“I hope we can last until the end happily.”

Those words are but a ghost in his rearview mirror.

☽

They find out in the car on the way to rehearsal.

“He’s filing a lawsuit to nullify his contract.”

That’s the only sentence spoken during the entire journey. The noise that usually fills the car is uncomfortably absent as everyone looks out the window or at their hands. For once, the members succumb to their exhaustion and don’t try to laugh or joke on two hours of sleep.

When they pull into the venue, the members heave the door open and file out one by one. Sehun is the last one to get off the car, left far behind by the rest of the members. He runs to catch up with the rest of them inside and finds Lu Han waiting at the entrance of the venue. There’s a look in his eyes that Sehun can’t quite read as they fall into step with one another walk in silence.

Everyone is already changed and have their water bottles in hand, ready for practice when they arrive. As Sehun is pulling on his grey tank top, Chanyeol speaks.

“Why are we even rehearsing? All the choreo is stuffed up now anyway.”

He throws his bottle across the room and it hits the wall with a sickening crunch. When it lands on the ground, the plastic has cracked and a puddle of water starts pooling in the corner.

“You don’t know that,” Tao tries, but his voice is too tired and the air is too heavy.

The managers call for them to start the rehearsal, and they all sigh before they stand up slowly and make their way out of the dressing room to the stage. Today, the platform feels too big and, with a measly eleven people, impossible to fill. Sehun can’t tear his eyes away from the empty space where Kris used to always hang around Yixing, gaze focused on the choreographer and drinking every word in because dancing was his weak point.

He realises he’s not the only one when they’re left alone after running through Growl and Wolf. For the first time since the comeback stages for the songs, they miss their cues and stand in all the wrong places because the EXO-M leader isn’t there to guide them. Drenched in sweat and carrying empty plastic bottles, the members are too tired to begin to worry about how they will fix the choreography.

“He’s not really going to just leave us, is he?” Tao’s voice echoes through the dead silent arena.

No one answers him, and no one really has to. They've all seen first hand the conclusion of these cases.

Sehun can only pray.

Please don’t let this be the end.

They’re still rookies, really. They’re still trying to find a way out of the winding paths of the woods and into the clear where they can say that they’ve finally done it. They’re not kings yet. And they’re meant to have years to come before everything starts falling apart.

☽

It’s the start of nothing and everything.

☽

“He’s not coming back,” Junmyeon announces during dinner five days later.

It’s surprising that they even have time to squeeze in a proper meal together when all they have been doing is learning the new altered choreography. Every day, they practise for hours with no rest break, until every part of their body cramps and all their muscles have wrung out.

“We know,” murmurs Jongin.

They found it weird when he didn’t fly back to Seoul with them. Maybe somewhere in the darkness of their heavy hearts they had already known.

“Let’s move on,” Sehun clears his throat. The quiet is unnerving.

“No,” Chanyeol slams his metal chopsticks down on to the table. “This isn’t fair. Why does he just get to call it quits and make our lives harder.”

“Stop it Chanyeol,” Baekhyun sighs.

The rest of dinner passes uneventfully as everyone picks at their food silently. After, Kyungsoo and Jongdae decide to wash up while the others return to their rooms.

Sehun is lying on his bed, earphones plugged in, when the door creaks open and Lu Han sits down next to his feet. He sees Lu Han’s mouth move, and pauses his music.

“...how are you holding up?” is all Sehun catches.

He wonders for a second whether he should lie, but decides against it because Lu Han deserves the truth. Sehun sits up and admits, “In all honesty, I’m scared.”

Lu Han wraps his arm around Sehun and his head softly. It helps keep the tears away.

“We are one, hyung, aren’t we?”

“Yes, the eleven of us will always be one.” He doesn’t miss the way Lu Han’s voice shakes.

☽

None of them know when it begins, but they start becoming anxious.

After the stress of the concert preparations wash away, everyone is on their toes waiting for someone else to pack their bags and leave. If past lawsuits were any indication, the Korean members understand that trying to leave would be digging a grave for themselves, so all eyes point to the Chinese members, although they skip over Tao briefly after his outburst on Instagram.

“Which one?” they whisper at night.

“Yixing’s too quiet,” says Baekhyun.

A look of understanding and realisation dawns on them.

“Lu Han won’t leave,” Sehun defends with clenched fists. “He’s always dreamt of this.”

There are seven sad smiles staring back at him and Kyungsoo ruffles his head, “But didn’t we all?”

☽

And so the countdown begins.

But everyday, Sehun tries to push the date back one more day. It’s a naive and futile struggle because there comes an end for everything. And time will always be running from those who need it most, slipping through the gaps between fingers and landing shattered on the ground.

Some days, he fools himself into thinking that his efforts are working. When Lu Han flashes him a bright smile under the fluorescent lights, when he whispers in his ear amongst screaming crowds, when his fingers grip Sehun’s arm just the slightest bit harder.

Maybe it’s his way of saying goodbye, but Sehun pushes that thought out of his mind.

☽

He thinks it’s in the searing heat of July, when he catches Lu Han off guard, staring blankly into the sea of fans holding up light up boards that say ‘鹿.’ In that moment, there’s only him and Lu Han in the arena. All the screams and voices drown out and every step is heavy as he rushes up to the vocalist and grasps him by the shoulder.

Lu Han jerks away in surprise, and there’s a brief moment where Sehun can see the resignation in his eyes before he breaks into a laughter that Sehun knows is fake. Before he can say anything though, Lu Han bounces off and joins the rest of the members in the middle of the stage.

Later in the dressing room, Sehun catches up to him.

“Please don't leave,” he whispers.

There’s a painful smile twisted on Lu Han’s face, “I won’t.”

☽

Everyday, he can see Lu Han cracking apart. And every night, he prays that he will just stay one more day. He tosses and turns in his bed, sweat beading on his forehead. He’s so afraid of the sun rising each morning because he can never chase away that sinking fear and block out that clock ticking away in his brain, waiting for Lu Han to say the words.

And one day he does.

He makes rounds telling everyone individually. Some members are angry, and the others just give him a sad smile. They had known all along that he was going to leave. There was always a silent bomb with a lit fuse in the corner of the room and in a wave of health issues, it has exploded.  

That day, Sehun locks himself in his room and cries. He knows that the make up artists later will have a difficult time fixing up his swollen eyes but for once he doesn’t want to think about the make up artists or anyone else. He wants to be selfish and let out everything that he’s been holding in desperately, afraid to burden others. Because behind the layers of foundation and concealer, he’s just a boy. He’s still the confused fourteen year old boy he was when he sold himself to this life, eyes wide and captivated by the idea of being an idol, the idea of being adored by thousands, the idea of living a dream come true.

“Sehun,” Lu Han’s voice is soft when he raps on the door.

It takes five minutes for Sehun to gather up enough courage to open the door and face Lu Han. He doesn’t say anything special, just apologises.

“I'm sorry, Sehun-ah,” he avoids eye contact when he speaks. “I tried, I really did.”

Sehun knows it’s the truth. He saw the way Lu Han fought all the way until the end. Until he was lying on the ground covered in bruises, and his blood wasn’t a beautiful crimson but a dull shade of brick.

Even then, with shattered bones and eyes run dry from crying, he didn’t want to give up.

The least Sehun can do is be happy for Lu Han, to send him off with a smile, because he has a long journey in front of him. Even though Kris has already paved a path for him, the road is still dark. But Sehun’s heart has already burst and he can’t put on an act anymore.

“You promised,” his voice comes out more vicious than he wants it to.

In the grim days of training when his limbs threatened to bend in all the wrong ways and break from underneath him, he managed to convince himself that he would be okay so long as he had his friends – his brothers – by his side.

Now, each of them are leaving.

☽

2015 can’t possibly be an even worse year.

Despite all their words at the MAMAs that seemed to fool the crowd and their fans, they can’t seem to convince themselves that their past year won’t define their career and mar their future.

And maybe it’s between the fear of fading and the desperation to stay afloat that they drift away from another.

With every passing day, Sehun grows more worried.

What was once a tight brotherhood of friends who relied on each other for the journey of their career has dissolved into an acquaintance of stars who are pursuing their own solo activities. As Kyungsoo is offered more acting opportunities and the vocalists are accepting offers for OST recordings and various live performances, Sehun feels himself being left behind in the shadows. Now that EXO-M also ceases to exist, the two remaining Chinese members find themselves at loss for their roles within the group.

Sehun can’t shake away the dread that EXO is going to fall apart, if they haven’t already.

☽

He’s not wrong. He’s not right.

☽

Their new comeback excites them.

It’s been the only normal thing they’ve experienced since the whirlwind of controversies last year. They pray every day, through sweat and tears, that it will go well and they’ll find themselves back on track. They hope they can do it with ten members.

If the success of their concert doesn’t excite them, the first week of promotions does. The track shoots to the top of the music charts and their album sells better than they had ever hoped. However, their excitement plummets just as quickly as it rose when Tao’s ankle starts to hurt again.

The managers start off by cancelling his promotional activities so he can focus on healing his ankle, but the injury is worse than they expected and there’s a whole new plan entirely.

“I’m going to America,” Tao says passively in the dressing room. Make up half caked on, they all bid him farewell and hope for a quick recovery, patting him on the back with a smile.

But standing in the corner of the room, there’s something about Tao’s retreating back that makes Sehun feel like he’s never going to see the Chinese member again.

“It’s just a break,” Minseok catches him staring. “He’ll come back as soon as he’s ready.”

The words are nothing solid, but it calms Sehun enough to help him make it through their Call Me Baby and Exodus promotions as nine.

He lives precariously through Tao’s Weibo and Instagram updates of his life in America, and decides that the rapper looks happy enough to stay. When the interviews with his father start being released, he realises that he was wrong. Before he can even blink, Tao leaves them formally.

Sehun thought he could’ve stopped the next leave, but he learns that when you’re an ocean away, words mean very little.

☽

Amidst the falling red leaves and cooling weather of October, Sehun realises they’re all lonely.

☽

He doesn’t remember the last time he saw Yixing and it’s been weeks or even months since they last all sat down around the table and had a meal together.

There’s an automated system running through all of their bodies. Each morning they wake up and brush past each other awkwardly to shuffle into the bathroom. Car trips are quiet and rehearsals for shows are too rushed for there to be any conversation. By the time they make it back to their dorm in the wee hours of morning, no one is in the mood nor has the energy to stick around.

The only interaction they have with one another is on stage, and even those smiles and the fun they seem to be having is an exhausting act. In the space of a few months, they’ve completely fallen away from each other.

Sehun thinks he’s the only one who can see what’s happening, but when he catches Baekhyun crying on the bathroom floor, he understands that it’s not just him who’s felt it. All along, the people beside him have feared exactly what he has, but he was too caught up in pretending to be strong that he never noticed.

By the time the end of year music festivals roll around, lethargy has crippled Sehun’s legs and they buckle underneath him during rehearsal. Junmyeon extends a hand to help him up, but the maknae doesn’t take it.

“Why are we doing this anymore?” he breathes through the pain pulsing in his legs.

Junmyeon’s eyes are dark as they look down at him. “Don’t say that, Sehun.”

☽

Sehun learns the meaning of regret and trying to change the past. If he could rewind, he would be selfish.

Maybe he would go back to April of 2014 to convince Kris not to leave.

Maybe he would have to go back earlier because the leader’s mind was set in stone long before then.

Maybe–

Maybe he would have to go back to that tteokbokki stand from nine years ago and run faster than he did, harder than he did, until his lungs exploded and he couldn’t breathe. But it would’ve be worth it, because he would’ve saved himself from a future like this.

An ending like this.

☽

Somewhere in a hotel in a foreign country, they come together.

For years, Sehun’s been foolish enough to believe that if he avoided his problems, they would eventually go away. But he’s sick of the way s carry themselves with hunched shoulders and throw polite smiles at each other.

Gathered in their private lounge, they sit on the couches in silence, eyeing one another and urging for someone to break the uncomfortable silence. They’re so out of touch with each other, they don’t know how to start a conversation anymore.

Without realising, Sehun’s lips pull into a resigned smile. He doesn’t know these people, not really.

“Look at us. We’ve even forgotten how to talk to each other,” Sehun takes a deep breath. “What are we anymore?”

The moment the words slip out, he wants to take them back. He was wrong, he doesn’t want to face the storm. He wants to run. He will always want to run.

And he will never run fast enough.

“We’re just a couple of people living our dreams,” Junmyeon’s smile is laced with wrinkles that are not supposed to be there.

But then again, we never get the things we’re supposed to.

“Isn’t this what you dreamed of, Sehun?”

☽

(yes, it was.)

A/N: this is word vomit, written on a whim and unbetaed. it was also originally meant to be more hunhan???? idk what happened -- probably why the plot went haywire. but really, what plot? i think it got worse as i went on it honestly does not make sense (i also got lazy). i’ll probably end up deleting this one day

p.s. i hope this didn’t offend anyone. i am not saying that this is what happened because no one knows really. this is a canon!AU meaning that this is a product of my imagination that largely resembles and was inspired by events that happened in real life.