“I thought we were over this?”

“Seul‒ I don’t know. I feel like I’m pulling the team down. I don’t know if I’m distracted. They reprimanded me today because it seemed like the comeback… isn’t doing very well… as usual,” his voice was exasperated, exhausted. Almost like he had given up. His shoulders slouched as he plunged on his bed, drawing his knees close to his chest.

He stared at the wall clock: 12:05 a.m. One more hour and he had to leave for his pre-recording.

There was a deep sigh on the other end. “I’ll leave you to think about what you just said.”

She ended the call and he could only stare her contact when he put his phone down.

He was guilty. With everything that was happening, the uncountable number of countries he had to tour since the beginning, this comeback that tried to hide the fact that it was clearly rushed, fighting for his and his group’s rights, he still wondered what else could he have done more for his group to finally climb out of the hole they were in and receive more recognition.

He was guilty. For going on secret dates when he could’ve used that time to create and compose better music. To improve what he’s lacking in as a leader. To liaise with the management on certain plans for the group.

He was stressing himself out. So much that he had a nosebleed while recording for a new song and experiencing sleep paralysis for the first time.

This conflicted and unsettling feeling in his heavy heart was something he had to battle with for a long time. When asked if he was happy on a vlive, he could only reply with “sometimes, not always.” He was guilty for not feeling happy when he had many reasons to, but yet he was not.

Running a hand through his hair, he tossed his phone on the bed when he stood up, getting ready for the long and tiring day.

His unusual (or bad) condition couldn’t be concealed no matter how hard he tried to. s noticed it, but gave him space to think by acting their usual selves, hoping that he would at least find some joy and laugh when he needed to. The fans noticed his quiet demeanour, unlike the conventional Jaebeom who would once in a while joke around with the fans and members.

It was worrying, but the members, especially clearly knew what he was going through. Especially when they don’t see their new song on the top 100 music chart. They wondered how else could they fix that.

Seulgi, on the other hand busied herself with the preparations for La Rouge and by the company of her members. Of course, she felt empty when she doesn’t receive “What are you doing?” texts from him but she too wanted to give him some space and didn’t want to burden him further. She was worried, afraid that their relationship was on the rocks and maybe, like how everyone else believed that it truly wasn’t the right time in their career to date. But how could she not? When someone clearly needed her so badly?

“Let’s run through the whole concert sequence in five!” One of the main dancers announced.

Seulgi broke out of her reverie and downed a bottle of cold water, tightening the rubber band on her hair. She made a mental note to herself to post on Instagram later, hoping he would bother to see it so he has nothing to worry about.

She stood up and began to stretch.

“Is your condition okay?” One of his concerned fans asked at a fansign.

“Yeah,” he nodded and gave a faint smile, lifelessly. He didn’t want others to worry about him.

He felt guilty when You Calling My Name won first place on music bank. Thought that they really didn’t deserve it, and he didn’t know if he should be genuinely elated about this.

He stared at the trophy in awe, quietly, a tad bit of his burdens being lifted off his shoulders. At least there was still some kind of result.

He did see her Instagram post, and he smiled a little. Just being able to see her made his day, but he still felt hesitant in wanting to text her after their little squabble that day. Maybe his ego was still too big.

He felt better by the time Saturday came. He had this pride in him that the song he’d written (with Seulgi in his mind) was selected as a track to perform after their title. She would be very proud of him.

And sure she was. She watched the clip of their Thursday stage on music bank that friday night, in her warm comforters and fluffy socks after a long day of practice. La Rouge was in less than 24 hours and she had to get up in 6 hours to start preparing for the concert. But she also had to make sure his condition was better (she could sense it from his stage aura since she’s also a performer herself) and was glad to see that his smile was a real one. The satisfaction from him when he’s performing was a trait Seulgi knew very well.

“Yo