Her head ached as if a hammer had been smashed against it. Though the pain was a little excessive than what she was used to, she wasn’t weirded out by it. After all, power naps always left her like this, especially if they’ve had a tiring schedule beforehand.

She was all too hesitant to open her eyes, as they felt like lead. The lack of sleep was finally taking a toll on her, and she would soon be as grumpy as Nayeon on a bad day.

By the way, she didn’t feel she was in the car. No, there wasn’t any noise, not even the car engine purring, nor the small talks that some of the woken members would make sometimes. If she was to make a guess, she would say she was back at the dorm.

On the floor?

She wasn’t sure, as the floor felt cold and foreign, different from the feel the carpet and wood would feel when she sat there with everyone else as they saw a movie on one rare schedule-free day. It wasn’t urgent, though; she figured she’d go to sleep again, and probably she’d be woken up by their leader, or taken to her bed by Momo.

Her mind was getting foggy again, and she wiggled slightly, trying to get comfy, but before she could do that, memories of the past day came to her mind, an alarm resounded in her head.

They hadn’t been in the company van.

They had been in a plane, travelling to a concert in Bangkok.

What? She wanted to open her eyes then, her mind coming up with many memories of the ride while aboard.

She couldn’t. She was engulfed by darkness before she could.

--

“Chaeyoung. Chaeyoung.” The voice woke Chaeyoung from what felt like deep sleep.

“Chaeyoung, wake up.” Insistent, alarmed, and a little breathless, as if the person was fighting with herself.

Her eyes were welcomed with the sight of a blurry Park Jihyo shaking her arm in an irregular cadence, her expression evading Chaeyoung’s sight and comprehension.

“Jihyo… What… What’s going on?” she had the mind to ask, having a little of an idea, a foreign sense of discomfort, as if something was out of place. Jihyo, seeing her awake, didn’t answer. Instead, she held a water bottle to , from which Chaeyoung drank readily. Her stomach roared in pain as she did, but there was a relief in , which had unknowingly been parched. Perhaps that’s the reason her voice sounded grainy.

After she finished quenching her thirst, they stayed quiet, but not because Chaeyoung wanted. She looked at her leader for answers, but the girl fled her gaze, looking at everywhere else but her. It was strange to see Jihyo so evasive; she was used to the strong leader, imposing and authoritative, her sole presence commanding attention, even from strangers, her voice bellowing above the deafening music, often inquiring about anything she deemed less than ideal for her members.

“How do you feel?” Jihyo finally asked, her gaze now trained in Chaeyoung’s figure alone, as if analyzing her.

“Hungry. My but