4.
The Head to Your Heart“YUNHO. HYUNG OH MY GOD, YUNHO! YUNHO, GET YOUR IN HERE RIGHT NOW!”
Yunho sits up in the bed, startled. He’s still half awake, but hearing Changmin yell pulls him from the clutches of sleep almost straight away. He’s never heard Changmin yell, so he’s instantly on high alert. His brain quickly flicks through a list of things that could be wrong, and none bode well in his stomach.
He rushes to push the covers off and crosses the short distance to the kitchen with wide strides. “What’s going—“
“STOP. OH MY GOD, DO NOT MOVE FROM THERE.” Changmin’s perched on the kitchen counter with no shoes on, and Yunho makes a face.
“What the hell?”
“Yunho, I’m serious, do not move.” Changmin’s eyes are so wide that it kind of scared Yunho a little. He points at a spot on the floor and says, “there.”
Lying on the floor innocently is a small cockroach who’s just minding its own business, occasionally twitching and rubbing it’s feet together. Yunho looks up at Changmin with exasperation.
“Really? You’re screaming because of a tiny bug?”
“A disgusting tiny bug!” Changmin yells back. “Kill it. Please. Do whatever you have to do, but get it out of this house.”
Yunho finds a shoe and kills it with no fuss. He scoops it into the bin with a tissues and he washes his hands in the sink next to where Changmin is perched.
“You have to wash that counter,” Yunho tells him.
Changmin looks at him with these sparkly eyes that only last a few seconds before he lets out a loud cough and crawls down from the counter. He shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks on the balls of his feet.
“Well. It’s gone now. That’s good.”
Yunho looks at Changmin. “It’s just a bug. Since when were you so scared of insects?”
Changmin’s brow twitches. “I’m not scared of bugs. And I’m not scared of cockroaches, either. They’re just gross and filthy and look disgusting.”
Yunho raises his pointer finger. “Did you know that cockroaches are one of the cleanest insects in the world?”
Changmin shoots him a glare and shuffles over to the bed, pulling out his book from under it. “Don’t care. Still gross.”
Changmin’s sunken in the bed, watching the T.V out of the corner of his eye. He’s more focusing on Yunho’s reaction, though. They’re watching a talk show, and the hosts brought up the question of homouality, and they’re debating whether or not it’s a sing, and whether gays should have the same rights at straights.
Yunho’s watching intently, like he always does when a debate comes on, and Changmin coughs when it flicks to an ad break.
“Hey, hyung?”
Yunho hums and looks at his fingernails, picking out the dirt from underneath them one by one.
“What do you think about being gay? Do you think it’s a sin?”
Yunho shrugs. “I mean, I don’t have a problemwith gays or anything. It’s not my business to be deciding if they can date each other or not, you know?”
Changmin sits up straighter. “Do you think they should get equal rights? Like married couples?”
“I mean,” Yunho says, scratching his nose. “It’s not really up to me to decide, is it? I’m a Christian, and God never really said anything against it, besides that one passage that no one really pays attention to, right? Because they also said it’s a sin to wear two different kinds of material, and we’re both doing that right now.”
“So you don’t think it’s a sin?”
“No, not really. Do you?”
Changmin shakes his head quickly. “Not at all.”
Yunho leans back and ruffles Changmin’s hair. “That’s very mature of you.”
Changmin bites the insides of his cheeks and pinches out a smile. “My parents were really against it, you know? And I just never understood why. It’s just love, but they kept saying that it was dirty and disgusting, all that kind of stuff. They said that those people should stop choosing to be gay.”
Yunho frowns and pouts up at Changmin. “I don’t think it’s a choice.”
“No,” Changmin says. The inside of his mouth is bleeding. “I don’t think so either.”
“I think my parents are okay with it? I don’t really know because we never really talked about it growing up, but I know one of my mum’s good friends has a girlfriend. But I think if Jihye, my sister, said she had a girlfriend or something, I don’t think they would be angry or anything. At least I don’t think so.”
Changmin holds in his tears. “That’s good. That’s really good of them.”
“It is, isn’t it? Most people aren’t ready to accept them.”
Changmin nods. “Yeah. Say, what would you do if like, one of your closest friends or something turned out to be gay?”
Yunho squints at him funny.
“It’s just, that it happened to someone I know. And all his friends ditched him and his family rejected him and everything.”
Yunho’s face crumbles. “God. That . That’s really horrible. Well, I don’t know, say, if you came out to me I’d just be like, ‘oh that’s cool’ and end it there you know? I don’t really think it changes anything to be honest. You’re still the same person, you just like . No big deal, right?”
Changmin wraps his arms around his legs. “Yeah. No big deal.”
Yunho cranes his head back and flashes him a big warm smile that’s got Changmin’s stomach fluttering. He reaches for Changmin’s hand, and he lets him take it with a bit of reluctance. He’s still not happy with being touched, but he likes to make an exception for Yunho.
“Still the same person,” he repeats, squeezing his hand.
Changmin looks away towards the wall, and he holds his tears in and breathes.
He squeezes Yunho’s hand back twice as tight.
The thing is, it isn’t like Changmin doesn’t want to debut. It’s been a year since he’s been training, but it all feels just too soon. Suddenly there are four other boys, including Yunho, all stuck in a room together with their parents and signing official documents and words about lawyers and contracts are being flung around and Changmin is just confused.
There’s also that awkward moment where he has to explain he has no parents, and the pitying looks he gives surges some kind of emotion in his chest he can’t place, but it hurts and makes him pissed at the same time. Yunho takes his hand and gives it a squeeze, and Changmin relaxes. He’s about to debut, but Yunho’s here with him, and it’s all going to be okay. Changmin isn’t even sure he would’ve taken the deal if Yunho wasn’t in the same group as him.
They introduce themselves to the other new members of their unnamed team.
Jaejoong’s too big eyes on his sharp gaunt face gives Changmin the feeling he would corner him in a dark alley and steal his money for kicks.
Yoochun is bright and smiles with his whole face, and handsome in a quiet way. Changmin thinks he will make a mother in law very happy one day.
Junsu is pouty and soft. He shows he’s nothing less than sure of himself by the way he stands, chest puffed out and shoulders high.
Yunho ruffles his hair later when they get home and laughs, whole face lit up like stars.
“Looks like you’re going to end up singing in front of the world, Changmin. What happened to your singing voice never leaving the train station?”
Changmin smiles crookedly. “I know, right?”
They share their first real hug that lasts more than a fleeting second, and Changmin melts.
He squeezes Yunho’s hand back twice as tight.
They’ve four months left until their official debut. They’re practiced the song, Hug, millions of times, switching up the dance and getting on each other’s nerves. They move into an apartment provided by free from the company, and as grateful as Changmin and Yunho are, they can’t bring themselves to like it. Being stuck in a small apartment with Super Junior, their managers, and the rest of their members isn’t as fun as it might’ve sounded at first. Changmin’s so glad to have a house to even sleep in, but within the week he’s climbing up the walls from stress. Yunho handles it as Yunho handles everything, but Changmin introverted nature can’t take the constant noise and the lack of alone time.
He takes to sitting on the roof at night, the stars his only company. It calms his heart enough to the point where he feels like he can breathe again the rush of company melting away in the darkness.
The day before their debut, Changmin sits upon the roof and takes in a deep breathe, but his whole body won’t stop shaking. He feels like he’s about to die, he’s so nervous. He’s never felt this amount of pressure before, because what if he stuffs up? What if he makes a terrible mistake even though he’s practiced the dance and song so many times that his throats almost bled and his heart has died from exhaustion. He can’t help but think it’ll be him that makes the mistake on the night and ruin everyone’s Christmas. The watch on his wrist blinks and tells him that it’s midnight, finally the day of Christmas, but Changmin can’t feel the joy. He only feels alone.
Before he can burst out into tears from the pressure of it all, The door behind him swings open and Changmin jumps, thinking it might be a resident of the building, but when he catches sight of Yunho, his lips spread into a smile, but then he quickly goes back to being glum, his brief moment of happiness taken away by the remembrance that he’ll have to stand on stage in only twenty-four hours. Really, Yunho should be sleeping, they both should, but here they are.
Yunho sits next to Changmin and hands him a cup of something. Changmin sniffs it and his eyes goes wide. “Yunho, we’re not supposed to have hot drinks like hot chocolate!” They couldn’t risk their voices being hurt, especially so close to their debut.
“That’s why it’s not hot—and kind of gross if I’m going to admit, but I wanted to you know, pay you back for last Christmas when you—yeah.” He rubs his nose and looks really embarrassed, and Changmin can’t help but feeling warm all over.
Yunho looks calm as he sips on his drink and Changmin’s heart plummets once again, his emotions going haywire. “How are you handling this so well?” Changmin asks. “I feel like I’m about to collapse, I’m so nervous.”
Yunho gives a patient smile. “I’m not handling it, I just look like I am.”
“Better than me,” Changmin grumbles, and Yunho laughs.
“I’ll let you in on a secret. This morning when I took a shower, I was so nervous my hands were shaking and I couldn’t grab a hold of the soap properly and now I stink.”
Changmin winkles his nose and gives Yunho a sour look, but before he can stop himself he’s laughing at Yunho’s troubles. “I hope you don’t stink for the performance. We have to at least make a good first impression, and I’m not having you smell like sweat when I have to sit next to you the whole time.”
Yunho ruffles his hair and then grabs Changmin’s head, pulling him closer to his armpit. Changmin bats his away and shrieks, “God, you are so gross.”
Yunho laughs and lets him go, his eyes curling like half-moons, and Changmin’s heart calms for the first time since the nerves had kicked in.
The go to bed that night together, and when they’re woken up to Jaejoong taking a picture, well, neither of them really mind.
“I’m going to die,” Changmin says. “I’m actually going to die. Yunho, please wear something nice to my funeral, I know you don’t like fancy suits but please—“
“Changmin,” Yunho sighs, giving him an admonishing look. He takes Changmin by the shoulders and look at him head on. “First of all, no funeral plans, you’re going to be fine out there. I’ve heard you sing a million times and trust me,” he leans in close so his lips are almost touching Changmin’s ear, and Changmin’s body starts freaking out and burning red and he’s not even sure why. “You’re better than the rest of them at singing, anyway.”
Changmin stutters when Yunho pulls back and then they’re being called on stage. The whole thing is a series of blurs, and Changmin feels so nervous on stage that he feels like the world is tilting before his eyes. He’s sure he forgets to smile at the right times, and then their first song with BoA is over, and then they’re finally singing Hug, and yes, Yunho lied, because Changmin thinks he really is going to die. When he has to get up from his chair, he wobbles, and his walk is unsteady and the more he thinks about it the more nervous he gets.
His voice wobbles and he almost misses a note, then suddenly they’re off stage and everyone’s celebrating and Changmin can’t believe that just happened. His face is blank, but then when he catches Yunho’s smiling face, he slowly turns it into a large grin then he’s being pulled in for a hug by all the members. They shout encouragements to each other and then share worries over what they did wrong, but most of all, they’re in good spirits, and they spend the rest of the night re-watching their performance, whining over mistakes and covering their faces in embarrassment. It’s one of the best nights of Changmin’s life.
People don’t like them. It’s a blow to Yunho he’s not really sure he’s able to take. On one side, people are saying the song is boring, and on the other, the rest are H.O.T fans cursing them out from making H.O.T disband, which couldn’t be further from the truth, but it doesn’t help the sting as Yunho scrolls through the comments. No matter that they’ve sold so many copies of their albums already, Yunho can’t help but focus on the negative comments. He hates that
Jaejoong comes in a huff to his room and plants himself on Yunho’s bed, expression sour. Yunho knows that Jaejoong’s been looking up the same things as him. “It’s not fair,” Jaejoong complains. “It’s not as if it’s our fault H.O.T broke up.”
Yunho just shrugs and sighs. “What can we do? They’re going to curse us out until they get over it. It , but…”
“Those ers have no decency,” Jaejoong spits, and Yunho frowns.
“Those ‘ers’ could be our future fans. We’ll never get anyone to like us if we’re not at least nice to them.”
Jaejoong rolls his eyes and mutters, “Whatever,” and while Yunho is annoyed by the attitude, he knows Jaejoong’s just venting, so he sits there and lets him complain while he scrolls through the computer, each comment hitting like a knife to his chest.
They’re mid practice, getting ready for their third album, when Yunho snatches up Changmin’s water bottle. He drinks from the bottle and freezes when he sees Changmin’s eyes laser into him.
“Hyung. Don’t put your lips on it—that’s disgusting.”
“Why is it disgusting?” Yunho argues. He knows of Changmin’s preferences, but he can’t bring himself to care at the moment. It’s been a long day, and Yunho’s defences are still down from reading all the horrible comments that people left. Their manager had said they’d done well and sold an amazing amount of copies, but Yunho can’t feel the happiness he should be. It puts him in a foul mood and he can’t help but take it out on Changmin.
“Because, I don’t like your saliva getting all over where I put my lips. It’s dirty.”
“You’re calling me dirty?” Yunho snaps, and Changmin narrows his eyes at him.
“Maybe I am. Just take it then. I don’t want it now you’ve put your lips on it.”
Yunho’s anger flares and he snips, “fine. Go get yourself a new one, then, and stop being such a brat. I thought people who lived on the streets weren’t supposed to be so prissy.” Yunho regrets it the moment he says it, and Changmin’s face falls. He looks like he might cry and Yunho wants to apologise, but his pride gets in the way, and he ignores the younger boy, drinking very deliberately from the bottle.
They’re still fighting when it happens.
The variety show is a total flop, and everyone in the studio knows it. The host is smiling so hard to try and brighten to mood that Yunho thinks he’s about to collapse from exhaustion and his lips will fall off. It’s really not funny. The script is bad, the setting is bad, the games are bad (Yunho swears if he has to pick another stupid dare from a hat telling him to make a rabbit pose he’s just going to lie on the floor and give up), and Yunho hates to admit it, but DBSK are bad, too.
They’re all so tired from their album preparations that even the lively Junsu that always makes the studio crack up in laughter is slumped in a corner, just focusing on keeping his eyes open. It doesn’t help that neither Yoochun nor Jaejoong could come, and Changmin’s as quiet as a mouse so it’s almost like he’s not ever there, anyway. Yunho does his best to talk for three, but his throat dries up and he’s so exhausted he’s missing all his cues.
A collective sigh of relief sounds when the PD calls for a thirty minute break. He’s a bit red in the face and looks like he’s about to give up and go home. The three of them shuffle off on the way to the change room, and a staff member hands Yunho a bottle of juice. Yunho smiles tiredly and forgets to thank her properly, feeling a bit bad about it as he walks off, but he really just needs to sit down and quench his dry throat and get a little sugar in his system. He takes a heavy seat on the couch and the other two flank him. The staff hand the other two their drinks, and Yunho starts gulping his down. It doesn’t taste great, but Yunho’s not in a position to complain right now. At least he has something.
Their manager lets them take a quick nap, and soon they’re all fast asleep on the couch. Yunho hears Yoochun snoring and Changmin breathing deeply just before he lets himself drop off.
Their manager pokes them up twenty minutes later. Yunho wakes up with a horrible stomach ache. Hot and cold flushes run up and down his body, and he sighs because this is probably the absolute worst time to come down with a fever. He groans and tries to sit up, but doubles over in pain as soon as he tries. He feels two hands on his back, and he wants to say ‘I’m fine’, but he’s in so much pain he can’t open his mouth to speak. Something is stabbing at his stomach, and the hot flushes and concentrated in his chest. He feels dizzy, and he puts his head between his knees, groaning. He hears Yoochun call for their manager and Changmin stays beside him, rubbing his back up and down.
Yunho’s hands are shaking. He tries to lift himself up a bit, trying to prove that he’s okay, but when he does he doubles back over and gags twice before vomiting. There are tears in his eyes and one of his contacts drops out, but when he opens them again he can clearly see that he didn’t just vomit.
He vomits blood.
He tries to keep himself calm, but his mind is running a mile a minute with all the possibilities of what could be wrong.
“Oh god, oh my god, hyung, are you okay? What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?” Changmin’s speaking so fast, and he can barely concentrate as it is. He grabs for Changmin’s hand and the younger boy grips on, still rubbing his back, now in panicked and quick circles. Yunho vomits up the orange juice again, and the blood comes up with it.
He can hear the staff in the background rushing and making calls, and their manager finally bursts into the room, gaping at the sight.
Yunho just grips Changmin’s hand through it all and keeps his head in his hands, trying to steady himself even to a degree. Everything’s fuzzy and blurry around him, and he’s struggling to stay awake. Changmin keeps him grounded by whispering things in his ear and making him squeeze his hand every now and then to make sure he’s still okay.
He’s not sure how it happens, but suddenly he’s being hauled out the back of an ambulance with his manager next to him, saying something about being able to sign on his behalf.
He feels sick, awful, and he lifts himself up to throw up over the side of the bed. He’s dizzy and can’t think to apologise, and someone holds his hair away from his face. They wheel him into a room and they keep asking where and if it hurts, and he does his best to try tell them through the pain. They ask if he knows what’s happened and he says no, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t even know why he’s here or what happened or why. He tries to think back through the fuzz in his brain to any symptoms he might have missed—maybe he was sick beforehand and just didn’t know it, and it had somehow escalated to this.
An IV is pushed into his arm and they administer something he doesn’t have time to ask what is, and he notices everyone is wearing masks and telling him to count down from ten, backwards.
Everything goes dark.
Changmin can’t stop his leg from bouncing. He’s chewing on his nails so much that they start bleeding, and Yoochun has to pry his hands away from his mouth.
“He’ll be fine,” Yoochun says.
Changmin’s leg bounces harder and faster. “You don’t know that. We don’t even know what’s wrong. Knowing Yunho, even if something was wrong he’d just pretend he was fine because of his ing pride. He wouldn’t let us know even if he was in pain. He’s such an idiot.”
Yoochun stays quiet then sighs. “He’ll be fine.” It sounds weak even to his own ears. He stands and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’m going to go see when the others are getting here.”
The manager and a few others he would probably recognise if he bothered to look hang around the waiting room. Some sit still, others pace, and Changmin just curls into himself in his chair, leg not stopping it’s bouncing. He knows it’s driving people crazy, but he can’t help it. How is he supposed to contain himself if he can’t let out just this little bit of steam?
The clock ticks and Changmin’s hands get sweatier as the moments go by. He hasn’t been told anything—none of them have yet, because nobody knows what’s wrong. The anxiety rots him from the inside out and he wants to scream. He wants to bash down the door and scream at the doctors to tell him if Yunho’s okay, if he will be okay, and to just tell him what’s happened.
When Junsu arrives he puts his arm around Changmin. Jaejoong fumes in a corner and cries. He keeps talking about how this is making him feel, and Changmin has the urge to hit him. He’s used to Jaejoong being more concerned with the way he’s feeling, how the situation is making him feel, then how the person who’s actually in trouble does, but right now he doesn’t want to hear it. He’s never quite wanted to punch the older male as much as he does right in that moment. He wants to scream in Jaejoong’s face that this isn’t about him, that he should be worrying about how Yunho’s feeling, but he doesn’t even have the energy. And he doesn’t want to open his mouth, because he’s scared that if he yells, he won’t stop. He knows there’s no point in yelling, because it will just makes things worse, but it doesn’t lessen the urge swirling in his gut.
A stout doctor with a squished face wobbles out from the room, pushing his round glasses up his nose and asks for their manager. He hops up and follows him out the door into the hallway, and everyone has their eyes trained on the door.
Their manager comes back with a grave expression, and Changmin’s stomach sinks to the floor.
He stands up before even realising he’s done it, and he asks, “what happened? Is he going to be okay?”
Their manager nods. “He’ll be fine. He just needs a few days rest to recover.”
He says such comforting words, but his expression is still dark, and Changmin can’t shake the itch that tickles at the back of his shoulders and neck.
“I think you boys should come with me.”
The four plus their manager shuffle out of the room and find a quiet spot. He tells them Yunho is fine and that he’s awake now and doing a lot better and everything has been checked up, but he’s going to stay the night anyway, and Changmin waits for the catch, because not once has their manager smiled.
He rubs his hands over his face and lets out a deep sigh. “Yunho drank something that was laced with superglue. Looking at the situation and who he is, well, it’s a high possibility that someone tried to poison him deliberately.”
Changmin feels his ears ring. Yunho’s fine. He’s fine but—someone tried to hurt him. They seriously tried to hurt him so badly that he ing vomited up blood. Changmin’s world turns through a series of red anger and white shock. He doesn’t feel like he’s breathing properly.
“Can I see him?” Changmin grits out.
“Not right now,” their manager says, and Changmin wants to argue but he can see their manager is almost as tired as the rest of them are. He drops the subject and holds his tongue.
Heechul calls Changmin and demands to know what’s going on. He says he’s seen the news that Yunho’s in hospital, but what happened, and why?
Changmin tries to keep himself under control and speaks through his tight throat, telling Heechul the details of what happened. It’s quiet for a moment between them before Heechul starts swearing up a storm, saying he’d kill the person who did this to him.
The girl turns herself in the next day, and Changmin is furious. He doesn’t yell or shout or even say anything that would give it away, but Yunho knows, because when Changmin is mad his eyes seem to burn. He sits by his bedside with his fists clenched so tight he’s marking up his palms with his nails. It’s scary, and Yunho’s just glad that it’s almost never aimed at him.
His manager tells him she is an anti-fan who wanted to hurt Yunho because she hated the way he danced and sang. She wanted to watch him hurt because he made her angry. Yunho feels his fingers shake under the cover as he’s told this, but he doesn’t let the fear show on his face. This fan… she is one in a million, but that one in a million seriously tried to kill him.
“Hyung, you’ve got to take legal action against her. No matter how I look at it, it’s just not right!”
They’ve been arguing for the better half of twenty minutes. He was told by the police that if he wished to press charges, he could do so and gave him time to think about it. Changmin obviously thought he should, but Yunho disagreed and said he didn’t want to.
“I just—Changmin, she’s born in in the same year as you. She’s the same age as my little sister. I can’t put her behind bars. And yeah, maybe I want to, but I just can’t find it in myself to do it,” he pleads, trying to make Changmin understand why he just can’t.
“Yeah, and me and Jihye would never poison someone in a million years. Just because she’s younger than you, does it make it okay? Is that what you think? Or are you just trying to make yourself look selfless? Yunho, I just don’t get it.”
Yunho shakes his head. “Changmin, I’m not. I’m not taking this moral high group that you seem to think I am. I’m not letting her go because I want to be the bigger person, or because what she did doesn’t scare me, or that I think it’s okay. But if I… If I know that a girl the same age as my sister has to rot in jail for years, how am I supposed to hold that in my conscience?”
Changmin throws his hands in the air. “It’s not like you forced her to poison your drink!” Yunho flinches and Changmin sighs. “She wouldn’t be going to jail because of you, she would be going because she tried to kill someone. How is any of that on you?”
“Because I get the decision,” Yunho says, running his hands through his hair in exasperation. “Because I’m the one who gets the say in this. I don’t want the responsibility. I don’t want it.Maybe she should go to jail—well there’s no maybe about it, but I can’t be the person to decide if she does or not. I won’t.”
Changmin groans and puts his head in his hands. “You care too much for your own good.”
“I’m just looking out for myself,” Yunho says.
Changmin gives a small scoff. “I think we both know that’s not true, hyung.”
Yunho can’t say a word back, because Changmin’s always known him best.
Yunho gives a small smile. “At least the show won’t air.”
Changmin huffs, “hyung!” but he laughs anyway.
The next few weeks after the incident are some of the hardest ones that Yunho has to endure in his life so far. He has to stand on stage just three days later and tell his fans that he loves them and puts on a smile. He does love his fans. He does. But when he says the words his throat feels tight and his hands shake in the slightest. He sees more than hears Changmin sigh besides him over the screaming.
He does his best to get over it on his own. He puts on his brave face and smiles for everyone, saying that it was a scary incident but he’s fine now. He walks around and never lets the smile leave his face. He talks about it like it’s on the same level as the weather, and he laughs about it too to try and break the tension.
He lets his smile fall when he goes to sleep at night.
When he eats food and drinks anything, he feels like his throat is closing up. He runs to the mirror every time after he eats and opens his mouth wide, shining his phone’s torch to the back and breaths, making sure it still opens properly. He looks at his watch and counts five minutes before deciding he’s fine, and he walks out with a grin painted on. He feels like a clown. He knows he’s not fine. It’s so obvious to him that he’s struggling with this, but he refuses to acknowledge it because he wants to get better, so he skitters around the issues and tries to live like normal. It works when he’s home. He feels safe when he’s there, but as soon as he walks outside and goes back to work he knows the problem is running deeper than he’d like to think.
When he speaks to the people around him, sans s, he can’t keep eye contact.
He loves people, but suddenly he’s afraid. He’s afraid, because he doesn’t know what they’re thinking. He doesn’t know their intentions, and when they give the slightest negative comment or facial expression, Yunho feels himself crumbling. He feels like he’s going insane from the stress and pressure, and he wants to cry. For the first time since his grandfather died, he really, really just wants to cry. But he doesn’t let himself. He holds it in.
He first gets an anxiety attack one week after the incident. There’s orange juice in the fridge, bottled like the one he drank that day. He stares at the bottle and feels silly for being so terrified of just a bottle of liquid. It’s stupid, and he hates all the anxiety that’s bubbling in him, so he pulls it out and takes a seat at the kitchen counter. He inspects the lid and hears the safety cap pop off when he opens it. It eases his heart, and he gulps a quarter of it down, forcing it through his throat as he winces. He feels awful for having done it, but he needs to get passed it. He feels okay for the first fifteen seconds, but then he’s twitching his fingers and his breath is speeding up.
He feels a tingling down his neck and in his stomach and he’s scared, he’s ing terrified because this was how it started last time, and there’s no-one home but him. The rest should be back within fifteen minutes or so, but Yunho’s scared that there won’t be enough time, and when s walk through the door he’s already going to be cold. He pulls out his phone and shoots a text to Changmin, because he doesn’t think he can speak right now because his throat is so tight. ‘Home now please need you.’
He stands up and the world tilts on an axis, and he feels like he’s dying. He lowers himself to the floor slowly and places his cheek on the hard tiled floor, trying to stun himself out of it to keep himself awake, but now all he can see is white, and he’s shaking like a leaf and can hardly breathe, and he wonders if this is what death feels like? His ears ring and pop, and he can’t stand even if he wants to. He knows he should get his phone out and call an ambulance, but he can’t find the co-ordination, and he can’t even see. The only thing that keeps him grounded is knowing that he at least got a text out to Changmin. He would take it seriously, especially considering what just happened.
Yunho tries to breathe slowly through the tightness in his chest, but it hurts. He still does his best, because he knows he needs to conserve his oxygen if he wants to survive. He feels crushed from every corner, and he’s just about to give up and cry when the whiteness in his vision fades to little dots and circles, and suddenly he can breathe again. Suddenly he can see. He breathes heavily and sits up, completely in a daze.
He doesn’t know what the hell just happened, but he feels okay besides the general shakiness.
Yunho gets up on shaky legs and shakes his body out. He feels okay, and he has no idea what the hell just happened. He goes to his laptop and opens an episode of the drama he and Changmin watch and waits for the younger to get here.
Changmin comes home in a rush, and he’s panting.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?!”
Yunho grins at him sheepishly from the couch. “The new episode of this drama came out and I really wanted to watch it with you.”
Changmin gapes at him. “Why didn’t you answer my texts? I texted you like ten times.”
He comes to sit beside Yunho on the couch, and Yunho shrugs. “Was busy looking for the episode online.” He pulls the laptop onto his lap and tilts the screen just right.
Changmin snuggles closer and Yunho tenses unintentionally. “Are you sure that’s all there is?” he asks suspiciously.
Yunho smiles and clicks play. “Certain.”
Yunho waits for it to get better, but it doesn’t. He’s tired of staying dehydrated during dance practice because he knows he can’t sneak away for too long to give himself five minutes to calm himself down. The members start getting suspicious, and he doesn’t want them to worry, doesn’t want them to know something’s wrong. So he just smiles and waves off any concern.
Most people buy it, but then, most people aren’t Changmin.
Changmin corners him after practice one afternoon, and Yunho gulps, feeling very boxed in.
“Hyung, what aren’t you telling me?”
Yunho darts his eyes everywhere but at Changmin, and he’s frustrated because he was fine with looking Changmin in the eye, but he’s feeling worse instead of better with every passing day. He trusts Changmin, he does, with his life in fact, and it hurts him to think he’s responding like this to the person he should care about the most.
“I’m not hiding anything from you, Changmin.”
Changmin gives him a very petulant expression. “Oh, really? So can you tell me why you haven’t drunk a single drop of water for the last six hours even though we’ve been working ourselves to death.
Yunho tries to think of something to say, like, oh, I drank when you weren’t looking, but he can’t force the words out. Truthfully, he’d tired, and his body and head are killing him from the dehydration. He just wants to lie down and rest, not argue with Changmin.
“Is this because of the…” he pauses and looks for the right words. “You know, incident.”
Yunho tries to stay neutral. “It’s fine.”
Changmin half growls in his throat from frustration. “No, hyung, it’s not. You can’t just not drink water because you’re scared of what happened. I’m not saying it’s bad to be scared, I’m just saying that you really, really need to drink water. Look,” he grabs Yunho’s arm and drags him until they’re in front of the practice room. Changmin tells him to wait for a moment, and he comes back with a bottle and walks back to their secluded spot.
“Look,” he says, and takes a large gulp of the water. “It tastes fine. It is fine. The safety cap was on.”
He hands the bottle to Yunho. “Just take a drink.”
Yunho wants to. He really does. But his fear rings louder in his head than the need for water.
Changmin stands with his arms crossed and stares. “I’ll wait until you drink it. All of it.”
Yunho keeps bringing the bottle almost to his lips, but then flashes of what happened rush through his mind and he’s putting his bottle down.
“What’s the time? Exactly.” Changmin checks his phone and tells him it’s two fifteen, which means Yunho has to wait until it’s two twenty until he feels safe to drink it.
“Why?” Changmin asks.
Yunho stares at the top of the bottle and frowns, gut churning. “I need to wait five minutes. That’s how long I took to feel it last time.”
They wait in mostly silence because Yunho’s too strung out to try and speak. He just holds the bottle and stares into the opening, wishing he had some kind of homemade poison tester. It would make the whole thing a lot less painful if he could just know. Changmin tells him the five minutes is up, and Yunho takes a long breath.
His arms and hands are shaking as he lifts it to his lips, and he almost spills it over the sides. He places his lips over the bottle and tips it upside down in a rush, gulping it down all in one go. He knows its irrational to think that someone’s poisoned this, as Changmin said he felt fine, so he just tries to get it over and done with in one fell swoop so not as to prolong the panic. He drinks the whole thing in under ten seconds and Changmin’s gaping at him.
“Um, wow, you must’ve been thirsty.”
Yunho would laugh, except he feels like he’s going to pass out again. He knows he’s falling into an anxiety attack, and he crouches down, trying to breathe himself through it. Changmin’s fussing around him and he manages to croak out through his thick throat that he’s having an anxiety attack and he’s fine, and all Changmin can do is pat his back while Yunho toughs it out. Within two minutes, he’s feeling better and he’s able to stand back up.
Changmin bites his lip. “So that’s why you can’t? Because you get anxiety?”
Yunho smiles wryly. “That would be a mild way of putting it, but yeah basically.”
He wipes his lips and Changmin’s just looking at him with those wide eyes of his, looking like he wants to fuss and check his vitals or something to really make sure he’s okay. Yunho just pats his shoulder and says, “let’s get back to practice I’m sure they’re waiting for us.”
It doesn’t get better, it just gets a whole hell of a lot worse. The more time he spends ignoring it, the more irrational his fear becomes.
What if there was a way to get passed the safety cap? What if someone close to him wanted to hurt him so badly that they knew all the little rituals he did before opening his juice and water? What if they wanted to hurt him so badly that they’d figure it out and make Yunho think there was nothing wrong until it was too late? The frustrating part is he knows how silly he’s being about it. Even if someone were to poison him, he’s sure they would pick an easier way then to fix a cap back on, but still.
He can’t help the way his heart thuds in his chest and the dizziness in his head every time he sees a bottle of something or sits in a waiting room. When waiting in his waiting room with the other boys before having to go on stage, his heart started pounding and the white spots danced in his vision—not quite as bad as when he drinks something, but still unpleasant enough that he feels the need to escape. He ends up spending the hours he should be sitting in the waiting rooms outside on the stairs. He closes his eyes when he gets his makeup done and tries to pretend he’s anywhere but where he is.
He wants to close his eyes and he wants the world around him to disappear. At night’s when he closes his eyes he feels strange in his own body, and he wants to go home even though he’s already there. He feels like he’s sinking, and the pumping in his chest beats faster and faster the more he tries to push it aside. He wants help. He wants Changmin.
He wants it to go away. The night’s that Changmin is so exhausted that he collapses into his own bed and ignores Yunho are the ones where he can’t sleep. He feels empty, alone, and scared. The darkness too much, too much like the darkness he felt when he closed his eyes that day. His chest turns to ice from the inside out, and he can’t feel anything else except for the cold fear that shivers through him whenever the thoughts run through his mind.
He wants it all to leave him alone. He wants to be fixed, he wants to go back to normal, but the longer he spends dreaming it will end, the further away it seems.
They’re handed snacks at their dance practice. Everyone collapses onto the floor, grabbing their stomachs and whining that they can’t get it open fast enough. Yunho stares at the package of cold pasta and sauce, and he clenches his fist. The food at home, he can deal with that. When he sees everyone else eating the same thing he does, and he waits his five minutes, he feels better. But this food, this is individual, and there’s no way to see if the others are okay after eating it. Changmin sits beside him and munches on his pasta so heartily that Yunho’s surprised he can even fit that much food into his mouth at once. After inhaling almost half in a worrying amount of time, he turns to Yunho’s unopened pasta and frowns.
“Are you not going to eat?”
Yunho opens the packet at his words and put his fork in. “I am.” He stirs the pasta dispassionately around, wondering if he’ll even be able to handle putting the tiniest amount in his mouth without passing out in front of everyone. He finds it embarrassing, and Changmin sighs at him.
Changmin dips his chopsticks into Yunho’s food and takes a generous bite, swallowing it down while staring very deliberately at Yunho. “See? It’s fine. Now eat.”
Yunho just looks down at his food, doesn’t even move a muscle.
“Do you… do you want me to count five minutes?” Changmin asks, concerned.
Yunho nods his head faster and more vigorously than he means to, and he turns a bit red. Changmin tells him when his five minutes are up, and as Yunho takes his first bite, Changmin puts his hand on Yunho’s knee and rubs it in comforting circles. It makes Yunho feel better, because he knows if Changmin is there, than at least he’ll take his safety seriously. He manages to eat the pasta without too many issues, but his head does feel light at funny for another ten minutes after he’s finished. His dancing is a bit sluggish, but he soon picks up and is back to normal.
Changmin smiles at him from across the room and he sends a strangled one back.
Yunho holds the bottle of orange juice with shaky hands. He knows that Yoochun and Jaejoong are in the studio room if he needs them, and there’s no lock on their door if he needs them. He puts in his headphones and plays his favourite song, holding the bottle. Once he’s absorbed in the song and his heart has stopped racing quite so fast, he unscrews the bottle of orange juice, listening to the pop of the safety cap, and he downs as much as he can handle in one go. He looks at his watch and sets the bottle down, counting ten seconds, then to twenty, he’s dizzy and his chest feels thigh, thirty, his heart feels like it will explode, forty and his stomach hurts. By fifty, he’s rushing to the bathroom.
He doesn’t lock the door, just in case.
Yunho bends over the toilet and sticks his finger down his throat and gags. Tears are b at his eyes from the effort, but still he can’t throw it up. He gets more panicked and shoves his finger further down his throat, pushing and prodding, but all he coughs up is spit mixed with blood, and Yunho’s panic hits the roof.
He grabs for his tooth brush and pulls it in and out the back of his throat until he manages to gag up a bit of food. He gulps down water and tries again, and the vomit slips out easier this time. He feels horrid. Everything hurts. His stomach hurts, his eyes, and his head is throbbing something fierce. He flushes the toilet and lays on the cool tiles until he feels a bit more human.
He feels stupid for having done it because now he realises the blood was most likely just from him scratching up the back of his throat. Now he’s forced himself to vomit, damaged and scratched his throat, and pushed his progress back again by letting his panic get the best of him.
He goes back to the table and tries to will himself to take another sip, but he fails at even getting the bottle to his lips before he feels like he’s going to die.
He feels like such a failure.
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