SUMMARY. three times jiseok hides away to cry, and the one time he lets himself be vulnerable in front of others.
CONTENT WARNINGS. mentions of self harm, depression, throwing up, lots of cursing, past suicide attempt
WORD COUNT. 7071

NOTES. believe me i love him 🫶 i js love traumatizing my ocs. ALSO if anyone is confused as to who marshall is, he is rhyland. instead of rhyland marshall, he is now marshall rhyland.

and this is also very unedited and lowk shat buckets but i wrote too much to like not upload it yk

enjoy 7k+ words of jiseok being a lil sad

everyone and their mothers knew-moon jiseok didn't cry.

the group members, the artists under atlas entertainment, the fans. everyone. if asked, jiseok would only shrug and say, "i don't know." like it was some unsolvable mystery, something even he hadn't figured out yet.

but the truth was, it wasn't a mystery at all. people assumed just because they never saw it happen, it never did. but jiseok knew better. of course, he cried. he wasn't some emotionless machine, no matter how much people liked to paint him as one.

still, it felt ridiculous. he wasn't some tragic hero suppressing his emotions for dramatic effect. he just refused to do it in front of others. call him childish, call him ridiculous-he didn't care. he had made that decision a long time ago, and it stuck. maybe, if he tried hard enough, he could blame everything on his father leaving when he was young.

when he was a kid, he'd bang his knee into a table corner and insist that was why he was crying, even when it clearly wasn't. now, at almost twenty-one, he was too old to be sobbing over something as trivial as a paper cut-too old to let anyone see the cracks.

so, he made it routine. when the weight in his chest became unbearable, when his eyes burned with the threat of tears, he'd find the nearest closet, storage room, or bathroom stall and let it all out in solitude. no witnesses, no questions, no concerned glances. just him, the silence, and the weight of everything he refused to let spill anywhere else.

ONE. tw: throwing up
february 2025.

the first thing jiseok felt when he woke up was absolute dread.

it was a suffocating weight pressing against his chest, gnawing at the edges of his mind before he was even fully conscious. the feeling wasn't new-it had settled into his bones long ago, but today, it was worse. unbearable.

his wake-up call wasn't any gentler. sebastian had been the culprit, shaking the daylights out of him as if his life depended on it. jiseok barely had time to register what was happening before his head started pounding, the violent awakening only making it worse. the headache was so intense that he swore it was sebastian's fault, though deep down, he knew better.

once the younger had finally left his room, jiseok forced himself to start his daily routine. he took his medication, scrolled through his phone, and tried-tried-to ignore the sickening feeling swirling in his gut. it sat there like lead, heavy and unrelenting, twisting his insides until he could barely focus.

he stood up too fast. a mistake.

the world tilted, his vision blurred, and pain sliced through his skull like a knife. before he could stop himself, his legs buckled, and he dropped back onto the bed with a groan. he squeezed his eyes shut, gripping his temples as he waited for the dizziness to pass. each second stretched endlessly, his head throbbing with every heartbeat.

eventually, the worst of it dulled, and jiseok tried again. this time, he managed to stay upright, though the discomfort lingered like a ghost. he grabbed the hoodie draped over his desk chair, tugging it over his head as if it could shield him from the day ahead.

when he finally stepped out of his room, he was met with the usual chaos.

marshall, ever the night owl, was throwing a fit over being awake before noon, dramatically groaning into the kitchen counter like his life was ending. sebastian was at the stove, flipping eggs with practiced ease, while kenji was sprawled out on the couch, watching some english show with a bored expression.

unfortunately, being in a dorm where three out of four members are english speaking means there's a lot of english going on in the area.

jiseok barely paid any of them attention as he made his way to the bathroom. he needed to wash up, maybe throw some cold water on his face, and pretend he didn't feel like absolute shit.

but the moment he caught his reflection in the mirror, he knew pretending would be impossible.

he looked exactly how he felt-awful. his skin was pale, eyes dull and rimmed with exhaustion. his lips were chapped, his hair a mess, and there was a sickly sheen of sweat on his forehead. he sighed, gripping the edges of the sink to steady himself.

don't think about it. just keep moving.

he forced himself to go through the motions, avoiding his reflection as much as possible. once he was done, he stepped out of the bathroom, relieved to see that marshall had finally stopped whining and was now aggressively munching on buttered toast, still looking pissed at the world.

jiseok made his way to the counter, but the moment he got close, nausea rolled over him like a tidal wave. his stomach churned violently, and he had to grip the edge of the counter to keep himself steady.

"you okay, hyung?"

sebastian's voice cut through the haze, sharp with concern. jiseok internally cursed the younger's sharp eyes-of course he noticed.

he forced a nod. "yeah, just not feeling breakfast." his voice came out weaker than intended. before anyone could press further, he turned and walked away, putting as much distance between himself and the kitchen as possible. the last thing he needed was to throw up in front of marshall and make the already grumpy teen even more unbearable.

sebastian watched him go, concern flickering across his face before turning back to marshall, who was dangerously close to falling asleep mid-bite.

•••

as the hours dragged on, jiseok's condition only worsened.

their group had practice for their upcoming tour, and every movement felt like a battle. his limbs were heavy, his stomach twisted with nausea, and his head-god, his head. each sharp turn, each sudden movement sent sharp pain through his skull, leaving his vision momentarily black.

he was sure he looked like an idiot, standing still, waiting for his sight to return like a broken machine rebooting.

whenever the others asked if he was okay, he brushed them off, blaming it on his medication. it was a believable excuse-the meds he took for depression and anxiety had enough side effects to make anyone feel like shit. but even that excuse could only go so far.

by the time their half-hour break rolled around, jiseok had reached his limit.

the second their instructor dismissed them, he all but bolted out of the practice room, muttering a lame excuse about needing the bathroom.

his stomach twisted with shame as he speed-walked down the hallway. he had nearly broken down in the middle of practice, and for what? a sickness? he felt like a fucking child, like one of makato's infant nieces/nephews who couldn't handle being sick.

his body betrayed him before he could even reach the furthest bathroom. a choked sob slipped past his lips, completely unbidden.

oh fuck him.

jiseok barely made it inside before the tears started falling.

he stumbled into a stall, knees hitting the cold tile floor as his stomach lurched. his body ached like he had been replaced with something too heavy, too solid. every joint, every muscle felt wrong, as if he were made of metal rather than flesh and bone.

he was fucking pathetic. he was twenty years old, yet here he was, sobbing in a company restroom over what was probably just a fever. sunny had mentioned that he felt warm during the car ride here. maybe she was right.

before he could dwell on it further, another violent wave of nausea hit him, and he barely managed to lean over the toilet in time. his stomach emptied itself in painful heaves, each retch sending fresh agony through his already throbbing skull.

it didn't stop.

just when he thought he was done, his body betrayed him again, forcing up every last bit of whatever remained. it felt endless, like he was purging every meal he had eaten since the start of the new year. the sounds of his own misery echoed off the bathroom walls-his ragged breaths, the sickening retches, the occasional choked sob he couldn't swallow down.

by the time it was finally over, jiseok felt hollowed out.

his legs were weak, trembling as he forced himself to stand. his stomach was empty but still ached, and his head felt disconnected from the rest of him.

he gripped the stall door for support, taking slow, measured breaths.

jiseok wasn't sure how long he stood there, gripping the cold metal of the stall door, trying to collect himself. his body felt like it had been wrung out, every ounce of strength drained from his limbs. his breath was still uneven, his skin clammy with sweat, but the worst of it had passed-at least, he hoped so.

he fumbled for the latch and forced himself to step out, wincing as the fluorescent lights made his headache spike again. he made his way to the sink, gripping the edges of the counter as he stared at his reflection. he looked even worse than before. his skin was ghostly pale, his lips had lost all color, and his eyes were red-rimmed from the tears he hadn't meant to shed.

with shaking hands, he turned on the faucet and splashed cold water onto his face, hoping it would shock some life back into him. it didn't. the nausea still lurked in his stomach, his head still throbbed, and his limbs still felt unbearably heavy. but he couldn't stay in here forever. the others would come looking for him soon.

forcing a deep breath, jiseok straightened his hoodie, wiped his face with the sleeve, and willed himself to move. his legs still felt like jelly, but he pushed forward, leaving the bathroom with slow, careful steps. he didn't know how he was going to survive the rest of practice, but he'd have to figure it out-somehow.

TWO. tw: mentions of past attempt
september 2024.

sometimes, the tears came out of fucking nowhere. for instance, right now.

jiseok wasn't doing anything. he was literally doing nothing. just sitting in the living room, surrounded by his roommates and a few of the other members.

eli, marshall, and sebastian were screaming at the tv, completely immersed in whatever game they were playing. kiyoko and sunny sat at the kitchen counter, deep in conversation about some anime they had been watching. kenji and yoshiro were right next to him, talking about something he wasn't paying enough attention to understand.

it was normal. casual. the kind of scene he had witnessed countless times before.

but the longer he sat there, the more everything started to blur. the voices, the laughter, the background noise of the game-it all became distant, like he was watching it happen from the outside rather than sitting in the middle of it.

he had perfected the art of tuning things out after living with twelve other kids for ten years. it was a necessary skill, one that kept him sane in the midst of constant chaos.

but this-this was different.

his chest felt tight. his hands clenched and unclenched against his lap, the fabric of his hoodie bunching beneath his fingers. his throat ached, and before he could even process what was happening, his vision started to blur.

oh this has to be some sort of fucking joke.

his body had betrayed him again. no warning, no buildup-just an overwhelming wave of emotion crashing down on him like a tidal wave.

jiseok swallowed hard, blinking rapidly in hopes of pushing back the tears that threatened to spill. he wasn't even sad. at least, he didn't think he was. there was no real reason for this, no trigger, nothing. just a sudden, unbearable weight pressing against his chest, making it hard to breathe.

he forced himself to focus on something-anything. he watched as marshall shoved eli, nearly knocking the controller out of his hands. he listened to kiyoko laugh at something sunny said. kenji nudged yoshiro with his elbow, grinning at whatever inside joke they were sharing.

jiseok exhaled slowly, forcing himself to relax his shoulders. it was fine. this wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last. he just had to get through it.

his fingers twitched, itching to stand up, to leave before anyone noticed. but he hesitated. if he moved too suddenly, if he made a break for it, one of these stupid motherfuckers would definitely call him out on it. he needed to be subtle.

so, he shifted in his seat, stretching his arms above his head like he was just getting comfortable. then, as casually as he could, he stood up.

"gonna grab some water," he muttered, barely loud enough to be heard over the noise.

no one even looked up. perfect.

he walked to the kitchen, keeping his steps steady, purposeful. once he reached the fridge, he opened it-not because he actually wanted anything (obviously), but because he needed to look like he did.

the cold air hit his face, grounding him just a little. he took a slow breath, letting the coolness soothe his heated skin.

it was fine. he was fine. jiseok wasn't totally fucking fine.

but the ache in his chest didn't fade. the lump in his throat didn't go away.

jiseok closed the fridge, gripping the handle a little too tight. he could still hear the others laughing in the background.

he needed to leave. now.

so, instead of grabbing a glass, instead of playing it cool, he did what he always did. he walked out. slipped away from the noise, away from everything.

the bathroom door clicked shut behind him, and the moment he was alone, he let out a shaky breath.

his reflection stared back at him in the mirror, eyes already glassy, lips pressed into a tight line.

god, he hated this.

but he had made peace with it a long time ago. this was just how it was. he'd let the tears fall, wipe them away, and walk out like nothing happened. like he always did.

he gripped the counter for dear life, his knuckles white from the pressure, his breath coming out in short, shallow gasps. his whole body trembled, his chest heaving as he fought to keep himself together. but it was useless.

the first sob tore out of him violently, shaking his entire frame. then another. and another. before he knew it, he was sinking to the cold tile floor, curling in on himself as his body was wracked with uncontrollable sobs.

he pressed a hand over his mouth, trying to muffle the sounds, but it didn't do much. he couldn't stop. couldn't breathe. couldn't think.

and god, it felt just like before.

three years ago. seventeen. alone in his bedroom. the bottle of pills spilled out onto his desk, the weight of exhaustion crushing him so completely that he had convinced himself there was no other way out.

he had wanted nothing more than to sleep and never wake up. to just let everything fade into nothingness.

and right now, in this bathroom, he felt exactly like that scared seventeen-year-old boy again.

except this time, there was no reason for it. at least, not one he could understand.

he swore he was happy. he knew it.

his life had changed. he had people who cared about him, things to look forward to, dreams that were no longer out of reach. the darkness that had once consumed him had lessened. he had worked so damn hard to get better. the last time jiseok did anything to harm himself was three months ago and he did everything not to anymore.

so why did it still hurt so much?

why did it feel like something was sinking its claws into his chest, dragging him back down into that same pit of despair?

his sobs grew louder, more desperate, his whole body trembling from the force of it. his hands clutched at his hoodie, nails digging into the fabric like he was trying to hold himself together, but he was unraveling too fast.

his mind raced, grasping for answers, for something-anything-that could explain why he felt this way. but there was nothing.

no trigger. no reason. just an unbearable, suffocating pain that he didn't know how to escape.

he squeezed his eyes shut, his breathing ragged, his chest aching from the force of his cries. he wanted it to stop. wanted his body to stop shaking, wanted his head to stop spinning, wanted this overwhelming, crushing weight to just disappear.

but it didn't. it only got worse.

his vision blurred, black spots dancing at the edges of his sight. his lungs burned, each inhale shallow and unsteady. he felt lightheaded, like he was on the verge of collapsing in on himself entirely.

he was so, so tired.

and for a terrifying moment, he wished he could just close his eyes and never have to open them again.

but he wasn't seventeen anymore.

and he couldn't do that to the people who loved him.

so instead, he curled in tighter, pressing his forehead against his knees, and sobbed until he had nothing left in him.

THREE. tw: self harm, mentions of past attempt
june 2024.

jiseok hadn't felt this bad since that one day in december when he was seventeen. and everyone knew how that had turned out-an overdose, a half-year locked away in a psychiatric hospital, his mother's orders absolute and unquestionable.

it was suffocating. isolating. fucking awful. it made him want to kill himself all over again.

sorry. that wasn't a very funny joke.

the memory sat heavy in his chest, pressing against his ribs like a weight he couldn't shake off. his fingers twitched at his sides, his breathing uneven. he rubbed his face with one hand, dragging it through his hair in frustration.

"oh god," he muttered under his breath, swallowing hard.

the group had just wrapped up an exhausting day of filming, the kind that left them drained, both physically and mentally. now, they were finally free-free to head back home, free to rest.

jiseok lagged behind as they walked, his movements sluggish. some of the others were just as exhausted, trudging along with heavy limbs, while a few still had energy buzzing beneath their skin, laughing and chatting as if they hadn't just spent the entire day working.

minsol glanced back at him, offering a soft smile. his girlfriend paused so she could walk beside him, loosely intertwining their hands. she gave his hand a gentle squeeze, a quiet gesture of comfort. but the moment their skin touched, something inside him recoiled.

he pulled away.

it wasn't harsh, wasn't violent-just a simple separation, but the impact was immediate.

minsol blinked, her smile faltering for a split second. jiseok caught the flicker of hurt in minsol's eyes before she quickly masked it, slipping back into her usual calm expression like nothing had happened.

jiseok felt a pang in his chest. guilt, sharp and unforgiving.

but he couldn't help it.

his skin felt too tight, his head too heavy, his entire body screaming for distance, for space. he wasn't in the mood for closeness. not tonight.

"everyone's planning on getting some dinner before heading back to the dorms," minsol said after a moment, voice steady, casual, like she hadn't just been rejected. "you in?"

jiseok didn't answer right away. his gaze flickered to the others ahead of them, voices overlapping as they debated where to eat. he should go. he knew that. it was the normal thing to do-stick with the group, keep up appearances, pretend everything was fine.

but the thought of sitting in a crowded restaurant, of forcing a smile, of pretending to have an appetite when his stomach felt like a pit of lead-it made his skin crawl.

"nah," he muttered, barely loud enough to be heard. "i'm just gonna head back."

minsol frowned. "come on, you should eat something. you barely touched lunch today."

"i'm not hungry."

"you never are."

there was something in minsol's tone-something edged, almost accusatory. jiseok stiffened.

"what's that supposed to mean?" he asked, his voice sharper than intended.

minsol sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. "nothing. forget it."

but it wasn't nothing. jiseok could feel the tension thickening between them, pressing in on his already frayed nerves.

"no, say it," he pushed, knowing he shouldn't, knowing this was the last thing he had the energy for, but unable to stop himself.

minsol exhaled sharply. "jiseok, you've been acting weird all day. hell, all week. you're shutting everyone out again."

again.

that word dug deep, twisting something inside him. he clenched his jaw, looking away.

"i'm just tired," he muttered. "that's all."

"right." minsol's voice was flat, disbelieving.

jiseok's fingers curled into fists at his sides.

he hated this. hated the way minsol looked at him, like she could see right through him. like she knew exactly what was going on in jiseok's head before he even had the words for it himself.

"look, if you don't want to come, fine. but don't just-" minsol cut herself off, shaking her head. "never mind."

jiseok scoffed, an ugly, bitter sound. "just say it. since you seem to have so much to say about me."

minsol's eyes darkened. "fine. don't just shut down and expect everyone to be okay with it."

it shouldn't have hit him as hard as it did, but god, it did.

because that's exactly what he was doing. slipping. sinking. shutting down.

he had been here before, in this numb, hollow space, where the world around him felt distant and disconnected. where everything felt too heavy and unbearably empty all at once.

he thought he had gotten past this. he thought he had gotten better.

but right now, standing there, feeling minsol's frustration, his own exhaustion, the ache pressing against his ribs like something suffocating-he wasn't sure anymore.

"whatever," jiseok mumbled, turning on his heel.

he didn't wait for a response. didn't look back. just walked away, head down, hands shoved into his pockets, the weight of the conversation settling over him like an unbearable fog.

and with every step, he felt himself slipping further, further, further.

jiseok pulled out his phone with shaky hands, his fingers trembling slightly as he tapped out a message to kenji.

kenedick ♥️
gonna head back on my own. tell the others.

he hesitated for a moment before pressing send, knowing full well that kenji would question it. but he didn't care. he just needed to be alone.

the second the message was delivered, he shoved his phone back into his pocket and picked up his pace, desperate to put as much distance between himself and the others as possible.

his thoughts were already sinking their claws into him, dragging him down, deeper and deeper into the dark pit he was trying so damn hard to stay out of.

shutting everyone out again.

the words replayed in his head over and over, a sickening echo that made his stomach twist.

it wasn't fair. he wasn't doing it on purpose.

was he?

he didn't even know anymore.

all he knew was that his chest felt too tight, his throat felt like it was closing up, and his own thoughts were turning against him faster than he could stop them.

his brain was a mess of self-hatred and guilt, memories of minsol's disappointed face flashing behind his eyes like a cruel film reel.

your own girlfriend is tired of you.

they all are.

you're exhausting to be around. no wonder minsol snapped.

his breathing picked up, his hands clenched so tightly inside his pockets that his nails dug into his palms.

he didn't want to think anymore.

but how could he not, when everything felt like it was caving in around him?

the weight of it all-the exhaustion, the self-loathing, the fear of slipping back into that place-was unbearable.

and the worst part?

there was no reason for it. at least, not one he could understand.

he had been fine. hadn't he?

he swore he had been happy. he had worked so hard to get better, to be better.

so why did he feel like this? why did it feel like something was clawing at his insides, suffocating him, dragging him down?

his legs carried him forward on autopilot, his feet moving faster, like he could outrun whatever was creeping up on him.

but it was inside him. in his head. in his fucking bones.

by the time he reached the empty sidewalk leading back to the dorms, his vision had started to blur.

not from exhaustion.

but from the tears he refused to let fall.

god. he was so fucking pathetic.

his hands fumbled for his keys when he finally reached the front door, missing the lock twice before finally managing to shove it open.

the dorm was silent. dark. exactly what he needed.

he stepped inside and shut the door behind him, leaning against it for a long moment, trying to catch his breath.

his chest ached. his mind wouldn't stop.

he wanted to scream.

or cry.

or just disappear completely.

instead, he swallowed it all down, clenched his jaw, and forced himself to move.

one foot in front of the other.

just like he always did.

jiseok barely made it to his bedroom before his legs gave out. the second the door clicked shut behind him, his knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor, his hands trembling as they caught his weight.

his chest was heaving, breaths uneven and ragged, like he had just run a marathon when all he had done was walk home. but it wasn't the physical exhaustion that had him falling apart-it was everything else.

his eyes darted around the room, unfocused, his vision blurring at the edges. it felt like too much and nothing all at once. like he was drowning in something invisible, something suffocating, something that had no name but had always been there.

then he saw it.

a nail, small and rusted, lying near the base of his desk.

probably from one of his photo frames. it must've fallen out days ago. maybe even weeks.

but now, it was all he could see.

his stomach twisted violently, a cold, sinking feeling settling in his bones as his thoughts turned sharp, intrusive.

don't.

he tore his gaze away, forcing himself to look at anything else.

his hands clenched into fists against the floor. his whole body trembled, and he realized-he couldn't hold it in anymore.

the sobs came suddenly, bursting out of him in broken, gasping cries that echoed in the silent room.

he curled in on himself, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes as if that could stop the flood. but it was too late. he was unraveling completely.

thank god no one was home.

there was no way he could hide this. no way he could swallow it down and pretend he was fine like he always did. he was probably loud enough that everyone in the building could hear him.

his fingers found his hair, gripping tight, tugging hard, anything to pull himself out of this suffocating feeling. but it wasn't enough.

his clothes-god, his clothes felt like they were strangling him. his crew neck was suddenly too much, too heavy, pressing down on his chest like a weight he couldn't shake off.

he clawed at the fabric, yanking at the collar, trying to get air, but it didn't help.

his nails scraped against his skin-his arms, his face, anywhere his hands could reach. red, raw streaks bloomed across his flesh, the stinging sensation grounding him, but only barely.

it wasn't enough.

his eyes flickered back to the nail.

he knew he shouldn't. he knew it was a bad idea. he knew-

but before he could even stop himself, his fingers were wrapping around it.

it was small. harmless to anyone else. but in his hands, it felt like something dangerous. something he couldn't trust himself with.

his breath hitched as he pressed it against his skin, just lightly at first, testing.

then he pressed harder.

a sharp sting.

then warmth.

then red.

the blood welled up instantly, stark and bright against his pale skin.

his breathing turned ragged, but he barely noticed.

his body ached, his chest felt hollow, and his mind-his mind was in freefall.

he didn't even know how long he sat there, his hands shaking, his body curling tighter and tighter as if he could make himself small enough to disappear.

and through it all, a single, desperate thought looped in his head, over and over like a prayer:

i don't want to die. i don't want to die, please.

but god-he had no idea how to stop himself.

his breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps, his chest heaving with every sob that wracked his body. the sting from his arm wasn't enough, but it was something-something tangible, something real, something that gave the storm in his head a momentary pause.

his vision blurred as more tears fell, slipping down his cheeks and dripping onto his sleeve, mixing with the blood. it looked almost poetic, in a cruel, twisted way.

stop. just stop.

but his hand wouldn't listen.

the nail dragged across his skin again, his movements shaky, less precise, more desperate. his mind barely registered the sharp sting, the way the pain rippled through him like an aftershock.

but it still wasn't enough.

nothing ever was.

his head dropped forward, forehead pressing against his drawn-up knees as he let out another broken sob.

he was so fucking tired.

so tired of this feeling, of this cycle, of the way his own mind turned against him when he least expected it.

he thought he had been okay. he thought he had moved past this.

but right now, in this moment, he felt just like that terrified seventeen-year-old boy all over again.

the same boy who had swallowed a handful of pills and hoped he wouldn't wake up.

the same boy who had spent half a year locked away, under too-bright hospital lights, forced to confront the wreckage he had barely survived.

the same boy who swore he would never let himself get this bad again.

yet here he was.

his fingers trembled as he loosened his grip on the nail, letting it slip from his grasp and clatter onto the floor.

his hands curled into fists against his legs, his nails biting into his palms. his chest ached, his throat raw from crying, but the sobs were finally starting to slow.

his breath hitched. once. twice. then, gradually, it steadied.

the pain in his arm still burned, but the chaos in his head was beginning to dull, like a storm slowly passing.

his body slumped against the side of his bed, exhausted.

the tears still came, but now they were silent, slipping down his cheeks in slow, steady trails.

his head lolled to the side, his gaze falling to the ceiling as he forced himself to breathe.

in. hold. out.

again.

again.

his mind still felt heavy, his heart still felt sore, but for the first time in what felt like hours, the overwhelming suffocation was easing.

he wasn't okay.

not even close.

but at least, for now, he wasn't drowning.

FOUR.
february 2025.

everything was good. everything was just fine. everything was actually great.

they had been on a well-deserved break for the past week, finally given time to breathe after what felt like endless hours in the practice room and studio.

this also meant more time with minsol. more time to make up for all the moments they had missed, the stolen glances across crowded rooms, the quiet late-night calls that always ended too soon.

jiseok missed her. missed this.

right now, they were tangled up in minsol's bunk, lost in each other. her fingers were woven into his freshly dyed black hair, her nails scratching lightly against his scalp, sending shivers down his spine. she was on his lap, warm and solid, grounding him in a way only she could.

his lips moved against hers, slow and deep, like he was trying to memorize the way she tasted, the way she felt, the way she made everything else disappear.

and for a while, it worked.

but then, the thoughts came.

they always did.

jiseok doesn't deserve this. doesn't deserve her.

his grip on her waist tightened, as if holding onto her a little harder could make the thoughts go away.

minsol deserved someone better. someone who wasn't him.

someone who wasn't so broken, so fucked up, so weighed down by things he still couldn't talk about without feeling like he was suffocating.

his mind flickered back to last june, to the way minsol had found out about him hurting himself. how she had held him as he broke down, whispered apologies he hadn't even known he needed. she had done everything to make sure he was okay, when she shouldn't have had to.

she shouldn't have to deal with him.

his breath hitched, the kiss faltering.

minsol didn't notice at first. she just smiled against his lips, laughing softly when he shifted, flipping them so she was under him.

that sound-god, that sound-he loved it.

but he didn't deserve to hear it.

he wasn't supposed to have this, wasn't supposed to be with a girl like minsol.

his stomach twisted. his chest felt tight, his throat closing up around words he couldn't say.

minsol brushed a thumb against his cheek, searching his gaze. "hey," she murmured, voice gentle, so gentle. "you okay?"

jiseok forced a nod. he swallowed down the lump in his throat, trying to focus on the feeling of her beneath him, her warmth, the way she looked at him like he was worth something.

but the thoughts kept spiraling, pulling him under.

you're wasting her time.
you're dragging her down.
she's too good for you, and you know it.

his hands were shaking.

he had to get out of here.

jiseok sat up suddenly, moving to climb off the bed, but minsol caught his wrist before he could go anywhere.

"where are you going?" she asked, brows furrowing.

"i just-" he inhaled sharply, trying to steady himself. "i need to go."

"what? why?"

he didn't have an answer. not one that wouldn't make him sound like a complete mess.

he tried to pull away again, but minsol didn't let him. she sat up, tugging him back toward her with a quiet but firm, "jiseok."

his breathing was coming faster now, too fast, his head spinning.

please let me go.

but she didn't.

instead, she cupped his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones, her gaze searching, concerned.

"what's wrong?"

jiseok shook his head, his jaw clenched so tight it ached.

he couldn't do this. not in front of her.

but his body betrayed him.

his shoulders caved in. his face fell forward, pressing into minsol's shoulder, his hands gripping the fabric of her sweater like it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely.

"hey, hey-" her voice was soft but urgent, hands coming up to hold him. "what's wrong? talk to me."

he couldn't.

his breaths were uneven, shallow. his eyes burned, and before he could stop himself, a tear slipped free, soaking into the fabric beneath his cheek.

he felt minsol tense. she stilled, her hands on his back, as if she wasn't sure what to do.

because jiseok doesn't cry.

not in front of people. not ever.

but here he was.

and he couldn't stop.

he was unraveling.

jiseok felt it in the way his body trembled, in the way his breath hitched in his throat, in the way his hands clenched and unclenched like he didn't know what to do with them.

minsol was still holding him, still whispering his name, still trying to ground him, but it wasn't working.

it was too much.

too much noise in his head, too much pressure in his chest, too many thoughts clawing at him from the inside out.

he needed out.

his hands moved on their own, nails dragging over his skin, scratching, pressing hard enough to leave angry red marks in their wake.

it was the only thing that made sense.

"jiseok, stop," minsol said, her voice firm but gentle, her hands closing around his wrists before he could do more damage.

he tried to yank himself free, but minsol didn't let go.

"let me go," he choked out, struggling against her grip.

she didn't.

"let me go, minsol."

he struggled harder.

and then, before he even realized what he was doing, his hand lashed out.

the sound of his palm meeting her shoulder was sharp, cutting through the tense air like a blade.

minsol didn't flinch.

she didn't move.

she just held on tighter.

jiseok froze, horror flooding his veins as his eyes locked onto where he had hit her.

"no," he whispered, his voice cracking, his breath stuttering. "no, i-"

he hadn't meant to.

he would never hurt her.

but minsol wasn't looking at him with fear.

she wasn't pushing him away.

she just shifted her grip, pulling him against her, her arms locking around him as if she could physically hold him together.

"i'm not leaving," she murmured, voice steady despite everything. "i'm staying right here."

jiseok shook his head, more tears slipping down his face. "i don't- i don't deserve this," he gasped out, his body shaking violently. "i don't deserve you."

minsol didn't respond.

instead, she guided his hands away from his skin, stopping him from scratching himself raw. she rolled them back over so jiseok lay on the bed beneath her.

she rubbed gentle circles over the marks he had already made, her touch warm and patient, soothing the sting in a way he didn't know he needed.

then, without a word, she leaned down and pressed her lips to his wrist.

jiseok sucked in a sharp breath, his entire body going still.

minsol kissed the marks he had left behind, one by one, moving slowly, deliberately, as if she was trying to erase them with every touch.

she kissed his arms, the fresh scratches, the faded scars.

then lower, over the ones that lined his hips, the ones hidden beneath the snake tattoo that curled around his stomach.

jiseok let out a shaky breath, his muscles slowly unclenching, the chaos in his head quieting just a little.

he didn't deserve this.

he didn't deserve her.

but minsol was still here.

she wasn't leaving.

and for the first time in a long, long time, jiseok let himself believe that maybe-just maybe-he didn't have to do this alone.

jiseok felt himself sinking, but this time, it wasn't into that dark abyss he had been trapped in for so long.

it was into something warmer, something softer. something safe.

minsol didn't stop. she kissed every mark like she could take the pain away, her lips pressing over the fresh wounds, the older scars, the places he had spent years trying to erase.

he didn't even realize his breathing had started to slow.

his body still trembled, but not as violently. his hands still clenched, but not as tightly.

he was still crying. god, he was still crying.

but he wasn't choking on it anymore.

he wasn't drowning.

minsol pulled away just enough to look at him, her fingers brushing against his cheek, gentle, grounding.

"you're okay," she whispered, like she knew exactly what he needed to hear. "you're okay, jiseok. you're safe."

safe.

it was such a simple word.

but jiseok couldn't remember the last time he had actually felt it.

his lip wobbled. another sob slipped out, weaker this time, more exhausted than anything else.

minsol pulled him in, guiding his head to her shoulder.

"just breathe," she murmured, fingers threading through his hair, her other hand still rubbing over his arm where the scratches were.

jiseok squeezed his eyes shut, his breath hitching.

he still didn't understand how she could do this.

how she could hold him like this, touch him like this, love him like this.

didn't she see? didn't she know he was ruined?

that he was too much, too broken, too everything?

he had spent so much time convincing himself that he was better, that he was okay, that the boy who swallowed too many pills at seventeen was long gone.

but the truth was, that boy was still there.

he was still scared.

he was still lost.

and right now, he didn't know how to be anything else.

but minsol didn't let go.

she didn't pull away, didn't look at him with pity, didn't try to make him explain himself.

she just held him.

and for once, jiseok let himself be held.

minutes passed. maybe longer.

his body was still heavy, still exhausted, but the panic had ebbed away, leaving him drained and hollow but no longer on the verge of breaking apart completely.

he sniffled, shifting slightly, pressing his forehead into minsol's collarbone.

"...sorry," he mumbled, voice hoarse.

minsol exhaled softly, her fingers still carding through his hair.

"don't," she said simply. "you don't have to be."

jiseok swallowed, his throat raw.

"i hit you."

minsol sighed. "you were scared."

"that doesn't make it okay."

"i know."

jiseok shut his eyes.

she wasn't excusing it.

she wasn't making it not matter.

she was just... understanding.

and that somehow made it worse.

his fingers curled into the fabric of her shirt. "i don't know what's wrong with me."

minsol was quiet for a moment, her hand still tracing slow circles on his back.

"nothing's wrong with you," she said softly. "you're just hurting."

jiseok swallowed, his chest aching.

hurting.

yeah.

that was one way to put it.

he let out a shaky breath, his tears finally starting to slow.

his body still felt heavy, his limbs sore, his head pounding from crying so much.

but he was here.

and for now, that was enough.

OCS X VARIOUS
started: DECEMBER 31, 2023 | REWRITTEN: FEBRUARY 07, 2025 | finished: not available
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