It's been a weird morning, for lack of better words. Mingyu curls up on the couch, knees kissing his chest, as he hears the distinct murmurs of Seungcheol and the manager's voice. He doesn't understand what's there to talk about because he's perfectly fine. The only thing that's not fine is the fact that a stranger has entered their dorm and everyone is acting as if everything's all right. Mingyu tries not to frown, not wanting the members to worry more than they should, but when he meets eyes with the upset man they keep calling 'Wonwoo' it's enough for Mingyu to go crazy. There's something about his face that causes his skin to crawl; his much too deep voice keeps haunting his brain. And why is Jun being so touchy with him—consoling him? Mingyu's the one who should be comforted. He 'hrmphs' again, wholly exaggerated, as he feels the couch dip down. Minghao leans into his space, eyes slitted and calculating as the Chinese male studies Mingyu's face. The rapper blinks, scooting his body until he reaches the end of the couch, and stops.

Hansol flanks his left side, crouching on the floor, as he stares at the rapper with intensity rivaling that of the Sun's. “Do you really, ya' know,” he tilts his head discreetly to the stranger. Mingyu sighs for the umpteenth time because this is the fiftieth time a member has asked him this question.

“No,” he whispers slowly, “I don't know him.”

“Remember him,” Minghao finally interrupts with a soft voice and tired smile, “you know him, you just can't remember.”

Mingyu whines and moves his legs a bit, hoping Minghao would take the hint and back away but either he doesn't get it or just likes to burst personal bubbles.

“What's the difference?”

Before Hansol or Minghao can supply an answer Seungcheol interrupts whatever small conversations were happening amongst the members with a firm, “Mingyu, we're leaving for the hospital.” Jihoon, who has remained stone-faced throughout the whole ordeal, looks like he wants to speak but the manager holds up a hand effectively silencing whatever the composer had to say. The air thickens and Jihoon's hair stands on end as if this were a Ghibli movie. Seungcheol, who is behind the manager, seems to communicate something. Mingyu wonders mildly what it feels like to have a bond so close to someone that words weren't needed to communicate. All the unit leaders could do it, it must be convenient.

“I'll go change,” Mingyu says unraveling his legs and hopping up. As he makes his way across the room, he avoids the stranger's piercing gaze.

Something heavy weighs down on Mingyu's shoulders when he adverts his eyes. He feels like he's missing something, something that may have been important but he cannot pinpoint the exact emotion for the life of him. The man people claim Mingyu to have known reaches out a pale hand and says, “Mingyu,” in a pleading tone, but all it does is serve to agitate the brunette.

Mingyu jerks away before contact can be made, almost stumbling into the wall, “Please don't touch me,” he whispers brusquely. As he continues to walk down the hallway, he doesn't have to look back to know that all the members are staring at him.

The pillows are still strewn across the bed and floor from this morning's events, but beside the lived-in look of the bottom bunk-bed, everything seems to be untouched. Mingyu opens the closet and tosses a white shirt, black cardigan, and dark blue jeans onto the bed unceremoniously. It's not like the outfit he wore mattered considering he's going to the hospital and not a fan-signing. If he were being honest, Mingyu isn't even sure why he hates the stranger. Maybe it's because of his snowy skin compared to his ugly tan one. Image has always been a problem, and even though Mingyu likes to think he's the number one visual he knows deep down that his dark skin is off-putting. It was during his childhood years, so why wold it be any different?

If this 'Wonwoo' guy really was in the group, wouldn't that mean his title of visual would be taken?

Mingyu steps back into the members' line of sight, but he hastily places himself at the manger's side, head bowed and eyes trained on the floor. Seungcheol casts him a look of concern before staring at Jihoon and tilting his head.

The manager places his hand on Mingyu's shoulder, gently squeezing, before staring at the leader, “Are you three ready?”

Wait, three?

Mingyu blinks as a pair of black shoes enter his sight. Following the shoes attached to the skinny legs, he meets Jihoon's warm gaze. 'Warm' and 'Jihoon' don't exactly belong in the same sentence, but for some reason knowing the smaller male would be there eases Mingyu's nerves. A mint breeze sweeps through his mind—refreshing and light.

“Be careful,” Seungkwan cries as the manager steers Mingyu out the door.

“Bring us some good news,” Soonyoung adds.

“And food!”

Upon hearing the last cry before the door shuts, Mingyu giggles. The heavy atmosphere lifts slightly as he listens to Seungcheol and Jihoon banter about what to eat for lunch. Mingyu knows it's really just for his benefit and that if he wasn't there they would no doubt talk about his sudden case of amnesia, but he relishes the humdrum moment for what it is; a trivial conversation. Mingyu slides into the back of the van as Seungcheol stays up front; Jihoon places himself right next to Mingyu.

Being inside the large van without the rest of the members is slightly unnerving. It's much too quiet for Mingyu's liking. The plethora of empty seats and actual leg room has him shifting in his seat every couple of minutes and it doesn't go unnoticed by Jihoon. As the van rolls to a stop at a red-light, Jihoon gently slaps Mingyu's thigh.

“Relax, you're making me nervous and I'm not even the one seeing the doctor.”

Mingyu blushes and immediately settles into a position. “Sorry,” he mumbles as he toys with the hem of his long sleeves, stretching the fabric and bunching it up in the palm of his large hands. The apology is so soft that Mingyu wonder's if Jihoon even heard him or if the words got lost amongst the sound of rumbling car engines and the steady music thrumming from the radio.

Hospitals have always fascinated Mingyu. Everything just seemed so clean and sparkling. When he enters through the automatic doors, he's immediately greeted with a breeze of chilled air. He imagines this would be the sensation he would feel if he was standing on Mt. Everest, but instead of snow it's white paint and marble. “Go take a seat,” the manager says in a hushed voice as he goes to the front desk. Doing as told, Mingyu lets his fingers graze the cold, polyester seats before taking up space in the front row. He looks around the large, open area. There are a few people waiting, an elderly couple, a lone man holding his stomach, and a few other groups. While Jihoon and Seungcheol occupy themselves with their phones, Mingyu takes this small repose to watch as nurses go around talking to patients. He watches as people in white coats holding clipboards rush down the hall, sometimes leading people in scrubs. There are so many things going on in a hospital that reminisces him of the hustle and bustle of idol life.

The manager places a clipboard in front of Mingyu's face. Blinking up, he carefully takes it and examines the papers.

“You need to complete that before the doctor comes, okay? Just do it to the best of your ability.”

Mingyu nods, clicking the pen absentmindedly before he starts writing out his name. He fills out the basic information with little problem: age, eye colour, height, . If anything, filling and ticking the endless boxes were a tedious task at best, but as he passes over the 'allergy' box and it's sub-listings, he pauses briefly over the sea-food box. He doesn't have any allergies but why does it feel like he knew someone who did? None of the members, as far as he knows, it allergic to food. He scrunches his face before moving onto the next page.

“Pssst, Jihoon-hyung,” Mingyu whispers as he gently tugs the honey-brunette's shirt, “what is my reason for visiting...?”

Jihoon looks up from his phone and sighs out, “Why are you whispering? You're not taking some sort of test.” Mingyu sticks his tongue out but let's the shorter singer take the clipboard and pen from his hands. Shrugging his shoulders, Mingyu turns to see what the leader is doing. Just as he expected, the rapper is busily texting a member but Mingyu's unable to read the name as Seungcheol quickly turns the phone off and frowns.

“It's not nice to look at other people's conversations, Gyu,” he chastises lightly.

Mingyu grins sheepishly, “Sorry, hyung.”

Before Seungcheol has time to turn back to his phone, a young woman in a light green lab-coat walks up to them with a charming smile. Jihoon hands over the clipboard and the nurse goes through the papers swiftly. “So, which one of you is Mingyu?” Upon raising his hand, the nurse let's out a hum of acknowledgment before setting the clipboard to her side. “Very well, if you could all follow me please.”

Going down a corridor, Mingyu walks into a rather small room with a gray check up table. The nurse immediately hands over the clipboard to the doctor, a rather handsome man who looks like he should be seen on the television instead. Mingyu feels just the tiniest bit jittery as he takes a seat.

“Well, Mingyu, it says here that you have memory problems,” the doctor says as he grabs a small flashlight and walks forward, “please follow the light.” Simple enough task, the doctor jots down notes. “So, can you tell me what problems you're experiencing?”

Mingyu shifts on the table, the thin paper crinkling with every move, as his eyes dart around the room for answers. “Umm, well, I'm not really sure...” he trails off before looking over to Seungcheol for help. The leader stands up and places a comforting hand on the younger's knee and squeezes.

“He woke up with no memories of one of our friends.”

As the doctor writes down something, Mingyu wants to argue the stranger isn't his friend but keeps his mouth shut.

“Ah, I see. It's okay, amnesia is a fairly normal occurrence.” A wave of ease washes over the unit leaders and manager. “Tell me, has Mingyu suffered form any head-trauma recently? Or passed out from exhaustion?”

Seungcheol and Jihoon exchange a glance.

“Not that we know of.”

“Wait, what about Minghao? He was out with Mingyu yesterday.”

“Don't you think he would have told us if anything happened?”

The doctor clears his throat and sends a pleasant smile Mingyu's way. He offers a shy smile of his own, chewing on the bottom of his lip. If he didn't suffer any trauma to the head, what else could cause amnesia?

“So, no physical trauma or illness, hmm,” the doctor muses as he continues to write on the clipboard. He sets the pen down on the table with a resounding 'thud' and turns in the chair, a serious gaze overtaking his friendly one as he stares at the manager. “I'm going to be frank, amnesia is usually caused by trauma to the brain or illness. I see that Mingyu has no record of any medical problems and that he is healthy for a young man his age. So, the other possible reasons require me to do a full check-up and MRI scan. Is this alright?”

The manager clenches his jaw and frowns, “Are you sure all of that is necessary?”

“Yeah,” Seungcheol interrupts, “can't amnesia just come on? Are there cases like that?”

“Well, from what it sounds like, he might have Dissociative amnesia, just blocking out one certain event from his memory, but I can't say that with one-hundred percent certainty. Tell me, what was the relationship between Mingyu and the one he forgot? Did something traumatic happen between them?”

Mingyu's ears perk up as he looks between his two hyungs, waiting for an answer. He is also curious what relationship he had with the stranger (or friend he had forgotten if Minghao were in his mind) but a look of reluctance flickers through their eyes. Yet again, a conversation carries through their eyes and Jihoon nods.

“They were friends, if anything traumatic happened we would know,” he finishes in a cool tone. The doctor just sighs and reaches for the clipboard. Nervous energy coming back in full force, Mingyu bounces his leg like a rabbit.

“If you three can wait back out front, I'll come get you when Mingyu's check up is done.”

Just as Jihoon passes by Mingyu, the rapper darts a hand out and his lips. “Hyung, I'm sorry,” he says softly as the doctor lingers at the back, organizing papers. Jihoon peers at the open door being held by their manager. He shakes his head, squeezing Mingyu's larger hand, before letting go.

“Just hurry up and get better, idiot.”

잘 알지도 못하면서

It takes an hour for Mingyu's checkup to be complete. He ambles out to the waiting room and lets out a sigh of exhaustion as he sits next to Jihoon.

“How did it go,” the singer questions as he puts his phone away.

The tall brunette rolls his head and let's out a small yawn before answering, “Tiring. Can I just go back and sleep after this?” At this, Seungcheol snorts but the corners of his lips quirk up in a smile of relief. “Doctor said he'd come back once the MRI scans were processed.” Pulling out his phone, Mingyu's eyes widen at the plethora of texts Minghao had sent him over the few hours he's been at the hospital. Fifty-one, from what the little icon said. Five were also sent by Hansol, and one or two from a couple of other members. He's much too tired to read through all of them; however, and rationalizes that he'll just apologize to the dancer once he gets back to the dorm. The waiting room is much fuller than before, at least two-thirds of the seats taken up by miserable looking people.

“So, do you really not remember Wonwoo...”

Mingyu stares down at his hands.

The manger stands up so that he's in front of Mingyu, exhaustion keen on his aged face, “but you have to remember something, right? I mean, you two used to be attached at the hip.” A low humming starts to ring in Mingyu's ears as he stares up at the older man. He swallows the lump in his throat and shakes his head. “Seriously, Mingyu, can't you just try and remember,” he pleads but this is enough for Mingyu to bristle and huff.

Dull pin-pricks emit from the left side of his head as he stands, vision greying slightly, but he ignores the weird occurrence and towers over the shorter man.

“It's not like I wanted this,” he defends with a desperate whine, “and why are you mad at me? Didn't you hear the doctor, that—that guy obviously did something to me.”

The manager doesn't back down; however, and instead continues despite the slight swaying on Mingyu's end.

“'That guy' is Wonwoo and he is your hyung. I'm not blaming you, Mingyu, but I'm just trying to understand.” The greying slowly starts to get worse and it feels like a jackhammer is going off inside of his head. “Can't you remember teasing him? Always holding hands during pre-debut?” Example after example of the relationship Mingyu can't remember berates him but he's unable to reply. Instead, a feeling of sudden exhaustion and vertigo take over. The room spins as black dots cloud the clearer part of his vision.

“Mingyu,” Seungcheol shouts as the taller boy drops to his knees.

“H-hyung,” Mingyu manages to mumble out but it's heavy and slurred. Unable to hold himself up anymore, his arm gives out and the rest of his body finally drops to the floor with rag-doll grace. He wants to tell them to make the buzzing noises stop, that his whole body feels like it fell asleep only for pin-pricks to tingle on his skin, but he's unable to do anything but succumb to the heavy pressure in his head and slip into unconsciousness. He vaguely hears the shouts of Jihoon as nurses rush to his side before passing out entirely.

다 알지도 못하면서

“He's stable for now. The MRI scans show that there is nothing wrong with his brain, but what he experienced sounds like a migraine due to the stress of the situation.” Leafing through various papers, the doctor clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You said this happened as you were talking about the one he forgot, yes?”

Seungcheol nods stiffly.

“Well, it is in my professional opinion that you wait for him to regain his memories naturally. Forcing the process could cause stress and result in him fainting.”

“And there's nothing more we can do,” Jihoon asks softly as he peers through the window where Mingyu is hooked up to an IV, sleeping peacefully, or at least what he hopes is a peaceful sleep.

The doctor sighs and stares as well, placing one hand in his pristine lab coat, “We're not quite sure what caused his memory loss since there are no signs of serious illness. And considering it's just the one person he forgot, I do believe it's some sort of form of Dissociative amnesia.” He turns back to the trio, a sullen expression on his sharp features and says slow and deliberately, “If this is a form of emotional trauma, he may react negatively around anything relating to the trauma. For now, keep him and his friend separated and make sure they are not alone together. He may react unpredictably.”

Seungcheol nods, soaking up the information, but there's still something gnawing at his head. “But wait,” he says before the doctor has a chance to leave, “if...if this is just Mingyu suppressing his own memories, wouldn't he not want to remember?”

The doctor hums thoughtfully. “That's very perceptive of you,” he praises, “memories are tricky things. If someone doesn't want to remember, they will set up blocks in their mind so they won't. And if they prod hard enough, they will cause a negative reaction that would make them not want to continue. Practically speaking, it may take some time for Mingyu to want to remember.”

Even though Jihoon knows the answer will do them no good, he asks, “How long do you think?”

A complimentary smile passes over the doctor's face, “Ballpark estimate, half a year to maybe a year is the average. I'm sorry.”

As the manager extends his gratitude to the doctor, Jihoon moves over to a spaced-out Seungcheol.

“What are we going to tell the others,” Seungcheol mutters as he buries his face in his hands, shaking his head in irritation. Jihoon doesn't need to be able to read minds to know that the leader is blaming himself even though there's no reason to. It might be what leaders do but Jihoon needs Seungcheol to be strong, not hold a pity party.

He looks over to Mingyu, letting his gaze soften and shoulders droop.

“What else? The truth.”

"Soonyoung isn't going to like this."

"We'll bring food."

A/N: And on this week of 'things couldn't possibly get any worse' it does. Don't be fooled it's all the dandelion's fault but Mingyu can't remember that so yeah. Mingyu will be rather OOC to Wonwoo and there will be hints of Jigyu and Gyuhao throughout the whole story but be prepared for major awkwardness and jealousy/sad Wonwoo.

PS: The lyrics are taken from Lim Kim's 'Like you know it all' a very good song I suggest highly