"Call of the Void" / l'appel du vide (French)

— the sudden, strong urge to do something incredibly reckless or dangerous; that feeling when you suddenly think about steering into oncoming traffic or jumping off a high cliff for no reason, although you would never do it.

Soyeon is on the roof deck when it starts raining.

“You coming inside, unnie?” A deep female voice calls out from behind, sounding hesitant and rather unsure of herself.

It’s not often that Yuqi comes after her during times like this – when Soyeon considers doing things that make sense to her, but has everyone else deeply concerned. Usually, it’s Soojin; or these days, Miyeon, who follows the leader to where she’s idling at the moment. Shuhua, although dealing with her own mental debilities and relapses, still checks on her occasionally to see if she’s doing alright. So does Minnie. And while Yuqi doesn’t seem to know what she’s doing sometimes, Soyeon appreciates her trying anyway.

“Nope, I’m good.”

She tips her head back to allow the cool drops of rainwater to patter over her cheekbones and slide down her neck.

Despite the rainy weather, the roof deck is still her favorite place to retreat to. Her silver-dyed hair is soaked to the roots, plastering on her head and helping settle the dull throb in her temples with its cold pressure. Soyeon doesn’t care that she’s getting wet, though. This is the only time she’s felt calm all day.

“Do you need me to get Shuhua, or…?”

The older girl resists the urge to sigh.

Yuqi is only doing her best, Soyeon knows this, so she keeps her voice neutral and not annoyed when she replies.

“Thanks, but no. Contrary to popular belief, I can take care of myself just fine.” She shakes out some of the rain droplets from her hair and glances over her shoulder to gauge Yuqi’s apprehensive expression. “I’m okay, Wooks. Really.”

Yuqi doesn’t seem to believe it.

“If you’re sure…” She makes no move to leave her spot, and it takes a period of awkward silence to realize why Yuqi is actually there.

“You’re worried about me being on the roof, aren’t you?”

She doesn’t miss the flinch Yuqi makes at that – at how plainly Soyeon had said those words – like it’s something they’re not supposed to mention out loud.

You’re afraid that I’ll get hurt when you’re not looking.

It tastes sour in Soyeon’s mouth, the truth she doesn’t say because she doesn’t want to cause any more distress to her friend, and she swallows the lump of nauseating guilt down .

She never wanted any of this to happen. Never wanted her team to be in this constant state of worry and fear of what she might do if they turned away for just one moment, especially Yuqi. The happy vitamin and mood-maker of their group, who is still such a kid about some things.

Yuqi had never encountered a situation like this before, something like Soyeon on her worst days, and the leader never meant for her dongsaeng to find out the way she did… or even get involved, for that matter.

“I’m not going to jump, Yuqi. If that’s what you’re scared of.” Soyeon says this gently, and it feels kind of good to be the one who’s reassuring for once.

The Han girl looks conflicted. “But—”

“What you saw was an accident.”

Of course, it was an accident. If Soyeon wanted to, she wouldn’t have bothered coming up here. Why risk getting potential nerve damage and chronic pain from a failed suicide attempt when she could just lock herself inside of a bathroom, turn on those little gas stoves that they conveniently keep inside of their pantry for samgyupsal with a bottle of soju in hand, and just fall into an endless sleep she won’t ever wake up from? At least, in this way, it would appear as though she had finally gotten the peace of mind she’s been yearning for so long – and people’s last memory of her would be Soyeon wearing a genuine smile on her face for once; not a bloody, broken mess staining the cruddy pavement below.

“I’d be lying if I said that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind before. I just… gravitated to it, you know? But I wasn’t actually going to jump.”

Soyeon wasn’t even consciously aware of what she was doing at that time and only came to her senses when Yuqi shouted her name. It was then, she realized, that her foot had been stepping on the lower rung of the glass railing while her hands seemed to be pushing against it. Pushing her away from the edge as if telling the girl not to do it, that she would never actually do it because a part of her deep down is still acting on the desire to keep living; no matter how small of a desire this may be.

(There’s something so very human in making mistakes, especially ones that remind you of your own mortality. And isn’t the urge to sabotage ourselves human too?)

Even if it had been on purpose, there’s no way Soyeon would be standing here right now with the rain pouring down on her as she tries to remember what it’s like to really feel something. Instead of just the constant numbness that has left a hole in her chest, a void so empty yet aching to be filled and made whole again.

Yuqi could follow that logic, she knew, but that doesn’t mean Soyeon wanted to spell it out for her.

Some things are better left unsaid.

“I’m sorry for scaring you the way I did. I didn’t really know what I was doing.” She tries to sound ashamed of herself, but she can’t. It’s not her ing fault that the brain is her worst enemy. Why should Soyeon apologize for it? “I’m fine now, Yuqi. Really. You don’t have to worry so much. It’s not good for you either.”

“Unnie…” Yuqi goes to speak again, but seems to think better of it and stops herself.

Icy rain continues to trickle down the slope of Soyeon’s neck, slipping underneath the collar of her sweater and making her shiver from the cold as she patiently waits for Yuqi to gather her thoughts.

Maybe she’ll get Shuhua to talk to her. To explain the difference between passive and active, impulse and desire, self-harm and suicide, and how Soyeon’s thoughts betray her at times. How Soyeon doesn’t mean it, but it happens anyway. She worries a lot about Yuqi and how this might affect her and their friendship, even though nothing has really changed between them since that incident on the roof deck. But Soyeon would be remiss not to admit that Yuqi has been more vigilant of her, more guarded and alert as she skirts after the older girl like a shadow.

Yuqi, the girl who admires her so much and looks up to her, despite the leader’s shortcomings and flaws. The girl who is fiercely loyal to a fault, and loves unconditionally with all her heart.

Soyeon might feel undeserving of such a friend, especially one who is as irreplaceable as the Han girl. But for Yuqi and the rest of their members, Soyeon would walk through Hell just to keep on going. (G)I-DLE is her strength, her catalyst of hope through the dark periods of her life, the compass that guides her through choppy waters. She can’t just leave them, they’re too important to her. They’re the reason why she tries so hard to stay.

Right now, though, the two of them don’t really come into it. Right now, Soyeon just wants her friend to understand.

“Is it getting better, unnie? Your… condition?”

Yuqi approaches her so that they’re standing side-by-side, no longer caring about the weather and how the rain is soaking through her black shirt. She looks concerned when Soyeon gives her a sideways glance. Not about her, but rather for her. And the latter won’t admit to the lump that realization brings to .

However, Soyeon manages to surprise herself with the honesty of her answer.

“I don’t know… But I’m trying harder this time around.”

Yuqi nods.

“You tell me if you need time or anything, alright? I know I’m not the best at handling this type of stuff, but I’ll always back you up. JSYQ, remember? Partners in crime, partners for life.” The dancer offers her a warm smile, a ray of sunshine in an otherwise gloomy city. Still awkward and unsure of herself, but Yuqi is doing the best she can.

Soyeon smiles back and nods in return. What more can she ask for?

“I hope you find something that works for you, unnie. I’ll be there to support you every step of the way. Our friends too.”

“Thanks, Yuqi. I hope so as well.” Soyeon looks away then, tipping her head again to face the drizzle.

They’re silent again, but the tension isn’t there anymore. There’s just the downpour, the wind, and the traffic noise from the streets below. Yuqi leans on the railing, arms crossed over it, as she takes in the misty view of the urbanscape before them. The bangs of her chin-length hair are stuck to her forehead as the rain continues to fall on them.

“Mind if I hang with you for a bit? It’s kinda nice up here.”

The older one shrugs. “If you wanna get wet, sure.”

“Soojin-unnie is letting the girls help with dinner, so I think I’m better off out here. Having those other three in the kitchen altogether sounds like a disaster in the making.” Yuqi explains with a wince, and that’s that. Their serious discussion slips away with the rainwater as things go back to normal – or whatever passes as “normal” in their group, anyway.

Biting back a smirk, Soyeon leans over and puts a hand on Yuqi’s shoulder. She gives it an affectionate squeeze as her expression twists into something that resembles sincerity.

“It’s okay, Wooks. This is a safe space.”

It takes a second for Yuqi to realize Soyeon is just messing with her.

“Oh. Screw you, captain.” The Han girl retorts, but doesn’t suppress the grin that splits across her face as she playfully tugs her leader in for a headlock. Soyeon looks like a mess upon breaking free from her friend’s strong grip, silver hair drenched and strung all over her own face thanks to Yuqi’s hand mussing through the wet strands, and she’s laughing so boisterously that she almost chokes on the raindrops that fill .

Yet, she doesn’t care.

“Love you too, Yuqi.”

Soyeon isn’t sure if she’s actually getting better, or if she even can. But as long as there are moments like this from time to time, when she’s fooling around and smiling genuinely with her members, Soyeon thinks she’ll be okay.

She can handle taking the highs and the lows. So long as she keeps getting the in-between days, then that’s enough for her.

᠁

A/N: Been listening to D.O.'s That's Okay a lot recently, helps me relax and concentrate better. I still have plenty of other things to work on, but I think I'll just go on my own pace instead of constantly forcing myself to do them.

On a different note, I've been having... mixed feelings when it comes to Neverlands. But I don't want to generalize the entire fandom, since I'm mostly pertaining to the stuff I've seen on stan Twitter (and, unfortunately, the YouTube comments section). Hence, the reason why I try to distance myself and not be so actively involved with the online community. I don't want to feel more uncomfortable and disappointed than I currently am, so I think this is the safe option for me.

I have reasons as to why I feel the way I do about some people in the fandom right now. However, I won't let these affect my support and admiration for the group. Both as a whole, and individually. (G)I-DLE has been one of my main sources of happiness and inspiration for the past years, and I'd like to keep it that way. I haven't felt this kind of high just being a fan of something, and I want to enjoy the experience while it lasts.

Anyway, be kind. Love and peace.