a/n: I wrote this a while ago when the show first ended. I was pretty upset at the time and wasn't planning on posting this, but I figured that since I took the time to write it, I should. I'm not entirely sure if I'll keep it up here or on tumblr, so we'll see. Also, I don't know why I wrote this in optional bias despite it being super obvious who it is, but yeah. I also want to give a bit of a warning that this story does have a bit of implied suicidal ideation. With that said, please do not interpret this as a romanticization of suicide or encouraging it. If you or anyone you know are suffering from thoughts of suicide, or are experiencing any of the themes portrayed in this fic, please seek help. Even if the thoughts/feelings are fleeting and eventually go away, I strongly encourage you to seek help. 

Oh, and just a side note, this fic was loosely inspired by the song "날개" by Kream. You don't have to listen to it, but it is a nice song that I highly recommend you check out (as well as his entire "Talking to the Moon" EP because it is amazing).

Perched on the roof’s ledge, he stares out at the city below him, listening to the quiet hum of traffic. He sits unfazed by the passing of time, not knowing how long he’s sat there for. Taking his eyes off the cars below, he glances at the entrance leading to the roof. He wonders if anyone has been looking for him, knowing that he’s most likely been missing for hours now. After the ceremony, he made quick work of bidding congratulations and goodbyes before managing to slip away. He wouldn’t have been able to bear sticking around for long, to receive those pitying looks and sympathetic words. The last thing he wanted was to hear about how “unfair” things ended, or how he “should have made it.”

In all honesty, hearing things like that made him sick.

He could still remember the whispers from the first day, the other trainees conversing in hushed tones about how regrettable it was that he and s had shown up. Some trainees had even claimed that his group’s appearance on the show was unfair, having the audacity to say he and s already had their chance. There was nothing he could do but hold his tongue and act as if he didn’t hear their insulting words. Those comments and the fleeting glares of disdain as he walked across the stage would forever be embedded in his mind. He had never felt more humiliated than he had at that moment.

Since the beginning, all anyone ever talked about was how unfortunate his group’s situation was, as if they themselves weren’t aware of it already. He had never come to hate a word so much. The word made it seem like that was all he and s were, failed idols that should be pitied. It was embarrassing enough that his group was forced to be demoted back to trainee status in a last-ditch effort to save themselves. He didn’t want to be seen as a mere pity case, but that was all anyone ever saw them as. Even after they started gaining popularity for their talents and personalities, that still wasn’t enough. With every article about their success, there was always someone—whether it was the article’s author or a person in the comments—bringing up how “unfortunate” his group initially was. They just couldn’t escape that label.

*bzzzt bzzzt*

He’s brought out of his thoughts at the feeling of his phone vibrating in his pocket. He hesitates for a moment, considering whether or not if he should even bother to check. It was most likely his manager, asking where he was and that he and the others would be leaving soon. More messages come in as he contemplates this, ultimately making him work up the motivation to finally see who is trying to get ahold of him. Taking out his phone, he checks the time before anything else. A little over two hours had passed since the broadcast ended, making him wonder why it had taken so long for anyone to try contacting him. Going to his messages, he saw that he had quite a few unread texts. The majority of them were from his manager and members, and one surprisingly from his mom. The broadcast had ended so late, he didn’t think that his parents would have stayed up long enough to watch the entire thing, let alone message him after it ended.

Leaving his mother’s message for last, he skims through the others first, all of their contents being virtually the same. The first message his manager sent had been from over two hours ago, informing him and s where to meet their manager once they were done with everything. The remaining messages were all the same, his manager and members asking him where he was, the tone of the messages becoming more worried and demanding as time passed. Not ready to face anyone just yet, he sends out a mass reply reassuring his manager and members that he was fine and would find his own way home. After hitting send, he turns off his phone, shutting out any possible further communication. This wasn’t like him, to suddenly disappear out of the blue with little to no regard for the consequences. But at the moment, he just couldn’t bring himself to be around others, he needed to be alone.

Lifting himself off the ledge, he staggers toward the middle of the rooftop on shaky legs. Once there, he lays himself out on the center, limbs spread as if he was making a snow angel. He lies ther