If he could turn back time, press rewind, he would. It wasn’t that Himchan regretted his career with B.A.P. He didn’t. He just regretted getting hurt. His hands shook as he tried to forget the memories. He saw all his hard work go down the drain. He was human. He could read. He went online. He saw the things people wrote. And if they thought it wouldn’t hurt him, then they must be insensitive.

            His left hand shook and he used his right hand to pop the pills into the open palm. If only they could see him now. They wouldn’t think he was so much of a diva now. If only they could see him, then maybe they would realize that to be an idol was hard. It was hard not only because his expectations for himself were high but other people were counting on him.

            He knew when he was hurt that s were disappointed. But could their disappointment ever match up with his? His was a vast, poison filled hatred at himself, at his situation. He worked just as hard as they had and he wanted as badly as they did to perform together, as six.

            Himchan also knew that he had fans who were upset and who worried for him. But if only they knew that their worry didn’t make him feel more loved. It only added to his burden. Who wanted to be in charge of thousands of people’s happiness? Who wanted that responsibility?

            The people who had no problem seeing him hurt must be laughing. Kim Himchan was finally gone, no longer there to annoy. But what they didn’t know what that despite the happy face he tries to put all the time, he was hurting. The pain did not just end at his arm. It traveled up his shoulders, and buried itself into his heart, cutting shards of glass, and the fragments flowed in his blood. His head pounded as he imagined being away from doing what he loved, from who he loved, for the next few months.

            He couldn’t do it. Everything hurt too much. Himchan bit on his lip and the tears mixed with the still unconsumed pills. They were his lifeline. The only thing that kept him alive; the only thing that allowed him to keep going. By shutting him down. That was how he would survive.

            Everything was a lie. He didn’t know how to say how he got hurt. He could only bandage his wounds. He knew the members were burdened, and he didn’t want to be their burden, but he also didn’t want to carry the burden. He just wanted some peace.

            But peace wasn’t what idols were meant to have. People have said that they signed up for it. Yeah, maybe. But was this the price to pay to do what you loved? His fingers ran down a picture of all the members, without makeup, in their casual clothes, smiling at the camera. They had just came from recording. This was when they were truly happy. But when would people realize?

            He laughed bitterly. They called him useless. Maybe he was. What was he? The visual? They had Daehyun. If he had a deep voice, Yongguk’s was deeper. If he could sing, that was Daehyun and youngjae’s job. He couldn’t rap and maybe his dancing isn’t comparable to Jongup or Zelo. Maybe he was useless. He could be their voice, but all the members can talk, they know how to promote. Maybe he was useless.

            He spun the pill on his bed with his left hand. He glanced down at the cast and resented it. Hated it. He wanted to rip it off, show off the scar, show off the truth. But he couldn’t. He had to keep it in. Because it was a business that he was in and there was nothing he could do about it.

            Himchan’s phone lit up. It was Yongguk. He tossed the phone under his pillow and sat on the bed, watching his hand shake. He knew what he wanted. It was what they all wanted. To wish him well, to tell him to stay strong, as if he couldn’t hear them in their award speeches. The phone was finally silent. Only to ring again.

            There was a knock on his door and his mother poked her head in. “Himchan? Are you okay? There are people waiting for you downstairs.”

            He wiped at his eyes and coughed gruffly. “I’m kind of tired.”

            She hesitated. “Are you sure? They’re waiting.”

            “Don’t worry, we’re coming up!” Himchan’s heart leapt but he couldn’t say anything. It was Yongguk’s voice. He heard more footsteps and heard Daehyun’s laugh. His other side of the troublemaker duo. There were more voices. Youngjae, Jongup, Junhong! They all came!

            But when they walked into his room, Himchan turned to face the other side of the wall. He didn’t dare look. “Hyung,” Daehyun sang out and sat next to him. Himchan flinched. Here was the vocal. Here was the other visual. Youngjae sat on his other side. Another vocal. Zelo kneeled on the floor and stared up at him.

            A hand placed a hand on his shoulder. Himchan flinched. “Himchan.” He winced. This was his best friend. He no longer wanted to talk to him. All the words he’d read over the past year and all the self-doubt he’d had come bubbling forth.

            “I’m useless,” his voice cracked.

            There was the expected fountain of denial. They all told him that he was needed, that everyone missed him. But he was sick of it. Himchan stood up. He pointed at the door. “Can you please all leave? I’m tired of being looked down on! You all know what happened to my arm. How can I keep facing life like this?” He was embarrassed that there were tears. He didn’t want to cry.

            The other members left out of respect but Yongguk stayed. He was calm but there was a tightness around his mouth as he spoke. “Himchan, I know you’re hurting. But I’m here. And, believe or not, our true fans are waiting. We have our concert tomorrow. Remember what you need to do.”

            “Yeah, just keep smiling. Keep faking the smile. I think that would be my expertise by now.”

            A tear fell from Yongguk’s eyes. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, Himchan.”

            Himchan sat for a long time after they left. Then he the laptop and refreshed every fan page he had opened. There he was, on every header, and every fan had said, “Get well soon.” There was a picture of Himchan surrounded by B.A.P, with the caption of “B.A.P’s umma.”

            More tears dropped from his face. They dripped onto his cast and saturated into the band aids. But already, he was healing. Already he was calming. He finally smiled and his phone bleeped with a text from Yongguk. It wasn’t much. Just a selca, just a happy smile and Himchan mirrored his expression. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would meet his true Babys. 

I don't know the circumstances about this and I don't know what's happening with this all. It's just a mirror of how i feel and also just I guess Himchan appreciation