(( Sorry this is a day late! I thought I had updated before I headed off to work last night ;0;

86.
From: ZiTao-Hyung (12:47)

To: ZiTao-Hyung (12:55)

From: ZiTao-Hyung (12:56)

A smile ghosted Sehun’s lips at the offer; since when did ZiTao pay for someone other than himself? The though amused him and he picked up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder, starting for the door, sighing when he was called out to.

“Sehun-ssi?” He looked back at his teacher, any trace of a smile having disappeared from his face. “We need to talk again.” The blond let his bag slip from his shoulder to the floor with a thump, and he stepped over to her, lips forming a straight line. “I know last time we talked it was about how you were losing your passion and it was hurting your performance in class,” she started, Sehun nodding to get her to continue; he was tired of hearing these conversations with his teachers- his dance one seemed to be the only on inclined to press the matter.

“You’re one of my best students, and I really don’t want to do this… but if your performance doesn’t show signs of improving by the midterm at the end of next week…” She took a deep breath, worrying her lower lip with her teeth, and she shifted her weight to her other foot. “Then I’ll be forced to drop you from the dance program. If that happens and you choose to try and continue, you’ll have to take this entire year’s dance classes over again, and it’ll push your graduation back a year,” she finished, Sehun feeling his chest tighten. “I don’t want to have to do that, so please Sehun-ssi… Talk to someone about what’s going on. This campus offers free mental health services, I know that someone there will be able to understand what you’re going through and help you through things. If you go to them and bring back a note from one of the specialists there showing that you’re trying to get better then I won’t have to remove you…” Sehun’s gaze dropped to the floor, and he felt her hand on his shoulder, trying to offer some form of reassurance.

“This is the last thing I ever wanted to have to do, but-”

“There isn’t another class coming it, right?” His interruption caused his teacher to pause, and she nodded though he didn’t see.

“That’s correct, this room is open to any student wishing to practice until the afternoon classes start in three hours,” she said, Sehun nodding once.

“I’ll stay and practice until the next class comes in.”

“Sehun-ssi, I’m not sure if you understand me. You know the moves, it’s not that. I worry that there’s some kind of mental block that’s causing the problem,” she argued gently, Sehun shaking his head and pulling out his mobile, sending a text to ZiTao that he was canceling on him before he turned off his mobile.

“I know what I’m doing, it’ll be fine.” She frowned before shaking her head, pulling her hand back from his shoulder.

“Alright. I still think that you need to talk with someone, but I can’t force you,” she concluded, grabbing her own bag. She looked back at him once more before she closed the studio door behind herself. Sehun stepped up to the stereo, flipping through the tracks on the cd that his class used, starting at the beginning with the intention of dancing through all of the tracks on it without stopping.

Said plan didn’t go over so well when he made a mistake halfway through the first track that had him landing on the wrong foot for the next move and he almost knocked himself down. He huffed a sigh at himself, going back to the stereo to start the song over, only to make the exact same mistake, and he sat down with a huff, rubbing his face with both hands before he slid them into his hair, pushing the blond locks out of his face.

“Come on… Just forget about him, just think about the music and nothing else,” he muttered softly to himself, repeating it a few times almost like a mantra as he pushed himself onto his feet again, starting the song over once again. A deep breath in the waiting eight beats, he let it out slowly as he started to move, letting his mind go blank. Nothing mattered but the song, the steps that he finally started to hit the beats on, keeping control of his breaths as he was supposed to. The first track ended, the second starting up, ending minutes later; he didn’t allow himself to think anything, not even some shred of praise over the fact that he was getting through them without mistake, keeping up just as he was supposed to.

The third track to play picked up in tempo, Sehun falling behind for the first few bars only to speed through a couple to get back on track. He swung his left leg out, bending his knee to step directly behind his right, repeating the action with his right leg, then his left once more, stepping on the heel of his shoe rather than the wooden dance floor. He staggered, his right foot already ready and starting to follow into the next move and he reached out to catch himself to keep from hitting his head on the floor. However the sharp pain that shot up from his left knee caused his elbows to cave and he dropped himself onto the floor, a strangled cry leaving his lips.

His breathing turned into shallow pants as the pain seemed to increase, rather than dull like any other time that he had fallen; it was something to expect when dancing- hitting your knees or falling back and knocking your elbow against something. But with any of those the pain dulled after a few moments, while his knee seemed to only get worse as the moments passed and he curled in on himself, reaching out to hold onto his knee, whining as the pain brought tears to his eyes. His stomach churned from the pain, hand shaking as he reached out for his bag, far from his reach. It was in the corner where it belonged, out of the way so he wouldn’t trip over it, but it seemed like he didn’t need a bag to manage that. He tried to pull himself towards his bag, dropping himself back down when pushing himself up only added pressure over his knee. 

Several sways of his hips that made him hiccup on shocks of pain had him eventually rolling so he was laying on his back, panting and laying as still as he could, silently begging for all of this to be some kind of dream. Part of him knew it was all in vain; there was no way he could imagine a pain like this, right? LuHan’s face flashed through his mind, followed by the memory of opening the unlocked door… his sweater missing, the ring missing… His heart gave a painful throb that rivaled the pain in his knee, threatening to make tears spill over his eyelids. He took a few shaky breaths, tilting his head back and blinking away the tears the blurred his vision the best he could, eyes locking on his backpack.

Keeping his left leg straight he bent his right knee, using his right leg and both hands to push himself across the room, pausing after each as they caused sparks of pain. The pain had dulled a little by the time he got to his bag, most likely due to his body going into some kind of shock and he blindly dug around in his bag until he found the smoothness of his mobile, pulling it out and turning it on. The screen lit up white, then a black illuminated by the backlight of the device, eventually showing his home screen. The device started to vibrate as it listed several notifications, and he ignored the ones from ZiTao asking why he was canceling and why he wasn’t responding anymore, selecting Jongin’s contact and then hitting the green call button, holding the device to his ear as it began to ring.

“Hey, what’s up? I was about to call you, something didn’t feel right and-”

“I need help.” There was a small paused, and Jongin’s voice became laced with concern.

“Where are you? What happened?”

“The dance studio… I fell on my k-knee… I think it’s bad Jongin,” Sehun explained in a strained voice, shutting his eyes tightly when he felt another throb.

“I’m on my way, I’ll be there in five minutes, can you wait that long?”

“Y-yeah.”

“I’ll call an ambulance while I head over-”

“No, please-”

“Sehun, you’re going to have to go to the hospital.”

“I-I know, but… wait until you get here… Don’t hang up, please…” Sehun pleaded, hearing Jongin swallow hard on the other side of the line.

“Alright, I won’t hang up,” he replied. Neither said anything else, the air filled with Sehun’s attempt at controlling his breathing and the occasional hitch any time he shifted, and was followed by Jongin telling him not to move. What seemed like an eternity later the door to the studio opened and Jongin’s mobile clattered to the floor as he rushed across the room, dropping beside Sehun. Sehun offered his mobile to Jongin so the older could call an ambulance, and Sehun grit his teeth a little as Jongin lifted his head to place his bunched up sweater under it.

“What happened?” Jongin asked, Sehun sighing.

“My teacher talked to me again… She said that if I didn’t improve in a week she would drop me from the dance program. So I was going to spend the afternoon practicing… I made a mistake and the next thing I knew I had slammed my knee against the ground and suddenly all I felt was pain.” He explained. “Then I had tp drag myself all the way over here to get my mobile.”

“Sehun, you shouldn’t have moved, you could have hurt yourself more,” Jongin said, Sehun frowning up at him.

“What was I supposed to do? Just lay on the floor in pain until the next class came in?”

“I knew something was wrong, I could feel it-”

“Jongin, you didn’t know where I was. Even if you felt something, you wouldn’t have been able to find me if I hadn’t called you.”

“… This is the first place I would have looked for you, Sehun. I know you, and I know how you try to deal with things. Just forget about them, pretend that nothing’s bothering you, put on your poker face and throw yourself into the things that you know you enjoyed when you weren’t crumbling in on yourself from the weight of everything hanging on your mind.” Sehun stared at the older, swallowing hard, and Jongin let out a small, joyless laugh. “We’ve know each other our whole lives and you still forget just how well we know each other, don’t you?” he mused. 

The two sat in silence until the ambulance arrived, Jongin cringing at the noise that Sehun made as he was transferred from the floor onto the stretcher, then again when he was lifted onto the roller, following as he was wheeled out of the studio and out one of the doors. He shot a dark look at the paramedic when he was told that he couldn’t go into the ambulance, quick to fire off that he was Sehun’s cousin, the comment acting like a ticket to get him a front row seat beside the blond writing in pain from being jiggled around as the ambulance took off towards the nearest hospital.

“Well, there’s good news and there’s bad news.”

“Why do doctors always say that?” Sehun asked, the man who had slipped into his room chuckling.

“To offer some form of hope to their patients, and let them know that even the worst situation can have some good in it. Shall we start with the bad news?” he asked, looking back at the two as he opened the file in his hand. Sehun offered a shrug, earning a small smile before he pulled out a couple of x-rays, clipping them to an examination board, flipping on the light switch on the side. “The bad news is that your patella was fractured in your fall, that’s what this line here shows. It’s common for a three way fracture or break, but yours only seems to have split once.” He explained, setting the file folder on the counter, turning to look back at the two once again.

“Alright, so what’s the good news?”

“The good news is that it doesn’t appear that you’ll need surgery, just a brace for about four weeks, six at the most depending on your rate of recovery. Also, after the first week, you’ll need to start at least six weeks of physical therapy,” he said, sitting on the wheeled chair in front of the computer in the corner, clicking the mouse a few times here and there, typing a few times between. “The EMTs wrote that you mentioned you were in school for dance?” he prompted, Sehun swallowing hard and nodding. “Then you’ll need to make sure you keep up on your physical therapy if you don’t want to risk ruining your chances at continuing into that profession. Do you understand?” he asked, Sehun hesitating before nodding.

“Sehun, time to start on your physical therapy,” Jongin called from the kitchen, starting to wash dishes from breakfast. He didn’t hear a response he looked over to where Sehun was sitting, staring blankly at the television. Now that he thought about it, had Sehun moved at all this morning? Jongin dried his hands off, stepping around the island counter and into the living room, frowning at the plate he had set on the side table; it hadn’t been touched. “Sehun, come on, you need to eat something,” he said, nudging the younger’s shoulder. Sehun tried to move away from Jongin’s hand, the older’s eyebrows knitting together and he nudged him again.

“Stop,” the blond grumbled.

“No, you stop,” he replied, nudging Sehun’s shoulder once more.

“I’m not playing,” Sehun said, voice rising a little and Jongin plopped down beside him on the couch.

“Neither am I. What’s gotten into you? You heard the doctor, you have to start your physical therapy, or else you’re not going to get better. Our teacher wasn’t able to drop you from the program because of your injury, but that doesn’t mean you get to ignore what the doctor said,” he lectured. “If you don’t, it’s just going to get worse and you know that.”

“It doesn’t matter.” The statement stopped Jongin and he watched Sehun while the blond continued to stare blankly at the television.

“What?”

“I said it doesn’t matter.”

“What doesn’t matter?”

“If I get better or worse. It doesn’t matter; I was going to fail out of the program anyway. The only reason the teacher wasn’t able to drop me like she was going to is because of my injury. But even after it heals, I’m not going to get better. I’m going to continue to miss beats, to trip over myself. So what’s the point in doing the physical therapy when I’m done with dancing?” Jongin stared at him for a long moment before he shook his head.
 
“What?”
 
“You heard me. I quit.”
 
“What’s gotten into you? You love dancing, I don’t think you’ve loved anything more than dance!” Jongin exclaimed.
 
“...LuHan-Hyung.” Jongin’s eyebrows knit together.
 
“LuHan-Hyung? W-what about LuHan-Hyung?” the older asked, Sehun laying his head back against the back of the couch, looking at him from the corner of his eye.
 
“I loved LuHan-Hyung more than dance. And look what that did to me.”