Chapter 45: Aim

     Baekhyun awoke with a start to an empty bed, head spinning, heart racing, his shirt sweat-soaked and stuck to his back. It was deep night, not quite yet dawn. The mattress beside him was cool to the touch, and he wondered, disoriented, if he had been dreaming. In his other hand was his phone, clutched painfully tight. He released it and shook out his fingers with a groggy frown. The display told him it was 3:57am. Out of habit, he unlocked the screen and was faced with his last messages to Chanyeol - and the record of a dialed call that read 2:49. Had he accidentally called him in his sleep?

     His stomach twisted uncomfortably, and a beat later he was scrambling from the bed, throwing himself into the bathroom just in time to dry heave the nonexistent contents of his stomach. Between unforgiving pulses of his gut, he leaned against the side of the bathtub, breathing thinly and phasing in and out of sleep. His head swam with vertiginous thoughts, as they crowded and raced for attention. Chanyeol, Jaehee, Kris, Kai, Tena, Ga In. His parents. Face after face distored with anger and disappointment whirled through his head.

     He came to in the morning, sprawled on the bathroom floor with an awful crick in his neck and a dull ache in his head. Grabbing hold of the sink, he pulled himself up, and leaned heavily against the counter. He pushed himself through his morning routine and splashed frigid water on his face, gasping as his senses shocked to life. The cut on the back of his head throbbed, reminding him of the trip to the clinic he had yet to make. Pulling bottles from the vanity cabinet, he rifled through them, fishing out something something for his stomach, something for his head. With a handful of water the pills washed down his throat. 

     After a quick shower and a fresh change of clothes, Baekhyun felt the human he was finally start to emerge. A little hollow, not wholly present, but human. He combed his hair and headed down to the street to catch a cab.

     Work hit him like a briefcase to the chest, but he managed not to double over. His schedule was packed and it came as a welcome distraction from the worries that had him tied in knots. All the meetings and duties he'd put off over the past few days had avalanched into one busy morning which Jongdae had arranged. Just get it all out of the way in one shot, his associate had said with a meaningful look, and Baekhyun had not challenged him. He'd swallowed a few bites of a meager breakfast between calls. Going full steam through his day, when midday rolled around he was feeling unsteady. When Jongdae popped in to excuse himself to get lunch, Baekhyun asked him to bring back something for him, too, and handed over his company card. Treat yourself, too. Jongdae's bright smile surprised him. He had returned it, feeling a newfound kinship and appreciation for his associate. He made a mental note to actually eat whatever Jongdae brought back.

     He was halfway through his lunch when a knock came at his door. He lifted a brow. Food was not in his fate. "Come in," he called out.

     It was Executive Lee who darkened his doorway, fuming with frustration and fists on his hips. "Byun. We've got a problem."

     Baekhyun rose, half defensive, half polite. He gestured for the performance director to sit and kept his voice pleasant. "What's going on?"

     Lee ignored the invitation and instead paced the room like an agitated tiger. "It's Aimee. Her attitude is off the chain. She's being so uncooperative, it's like she doesn't think she's part of this group anymore." The man grumbled. "She's not the leader but you know her personality's stronger than the other girls. It's bleeding all over them, and they're making mistakes. Park's going to have all our heads on stakes."

     Baekhyun was quiet for a moment, sitting back in his chair and drumming his fingers on the desk, a short percussive sound. So Aimee was not reserving her attitude only for him. "Have you talked to her?"

     "Tried. Pep talks are no use. Works for about five minutes. I'm not going to play shrink to the kid."

     Baekhyun was no shrink himself. "I'll talk to her."

     Lee grunted. "Better you than me, you're the smooth talker."

     Baekhyun followed Lee down to the studio where the girls were in rehearsal. He watched Aimee go through the motions for a few minutes. Her moves were perfect by the books, but it was clear she was in another world where her bandmates couldn't reach. When the song ended, Lee called to the girls to take a break. Baekhyun beckoned Aimee over. She came with narrowed eyes.

     "Come with me," he said.

     "Come to scold me?" She said testily, flipping her red hair from her face.

     "No, not at all."

     He walked to the door without another word. She followed, somewhat to his surprise. Trailing one glowering stormcloud, he led them to the gym, which was blissfully empty.

     Aimee looked on suspiciously as she followed him in. He handed her a couple of boxing gloves that looked like they would fit.

     "What do you want," she asked flatly, facing him before the punching bag. Her posture screamed rebellion. Fight me, it said.  

     "For you to let it out," Baekhyun said.

     Aimee laughed, loud and bitter. "And you think this will help?" Her eyes were ablaze but beneath it, razor sharp, there was something else.

     "Maybe not help, but it's a good starting place. You're angry, I know."

     "You know nothing," she glared.

     "Actually, you're right. I know nothing. I'm going to ask you about it, and you can tell me. And if you don't want to answer, you can punch the bag instead."

     Aimee's fists clenched in the gloves. She rolled her eyes, but there was a tightness in her jaw as she considered the bag.

     "Are you angry at Executive Lee?"

     "No," came the recalcitrant answer as she rolled her eyes. She gave the bag a mild hit as if testing it out.

     "Are you angry at your bandmates that you're lashing out at them?"

     Her face twisted with annoyance. "No."

     "Are you angry at me?"

     Her eyes narrowed and she didn't answer.

     "This is me," he said patting the bag, and staring her squarely in the eye. "You're angry at me. Maybe even furious with me." He tapped the bag. "I'm not going to judge you, Aimee, I'd be mad at me too. Do your worst."

     The first hit was mild. The second was harder. He didn't watch where they landed, because it didn't matter.

     "What did I do?" Baekhyun said, his voice taking on an edge. "What did I do to you?"

     Aimee let out a frustrated scream as she hit the bag harder. Once, twice, then a kick.

     "Is it because of Tena?" He wasn't taunting her, but he knew she needed to get this out of her system or it would eat her up from the inside, swallowing her and her band. "Is it because Tena left you behind?"

     Aimee punched the bag so hard it rocked back and she let out a scream. "She didn't leave me, you left us!" She shouted. "I hate you!" A flurry of punches and kicks landed. "You left us to rot! I've been waiting for years! And it's all ing ruined!" Angry tears escaped red eyes.

     "And? What do you want to do?" Baekhyun persisted.

     She punched the bag, hard, at level with Baekhyun's face. 

     "That's it? Come on. Show me how angry you are!"

     She let out a strangled scream and launched herself at the bag, punching and kicking it til she sagged with sobs that heaved from her chest. "I hate you," she cried. "I hate this place. I hate you."

     Baekhyun stood still on the other side of the bag.

     "Did Tena tell you what happened?" He asked in a quieter voice.

     Aimee gave the bag a halfhearted punch in the side, setting her jaw. "She said she couldn't."

     "Do you want to know?"

     It took a moment, but eventually she nodded.

     "I'll tell you." And so he did, break