You’d only meant to step out for a little while. Just to breathe.

The walls of the dorm had started to feel like they were closing in again — too many voices, too many schedules, too much noise in your head that wouldn’t stop. You didn’t want to bother anyone with it, not again. They already had enough to worry about: rehearsals, interviews, fan meetings, performances. Everyone was stretched thin. You could see it in their faces, the exhaustion tucked behind the smiles.

So you slipped out quietly. No note, no message, no explanation. Just your jacket, your phone, and the thought that maybe a short walk would make things easier to bear.

The park wasn’t far. You sat on a bench for a while, staring at the ground, breathing in the cold air that stung your lungs just enough to make you feel real again. You didn’t plan on being gone long — maybe an hour, maybe two. You just needed to exist somewhere that didn’t require you to smile.

But time passed differently when your thoughts got heavy. The minutes blurred, your phone buzzed, and you ignored it.

Your first mistake was leaving without telling anyone. Your second was ignoring Keeho’s calls.

You knew what it would do to him — to all of them — but you couldn’t bring yourself to answer. The sound of his name lighting up your screen made your chest tighten. You knew that if you picked up, the second you spoke, he’d hear it in your voice. The tremble. The strain. The exhaustion you’d been hiding for weeks.

You could imagine it already — his tone turning sharp with worry, Jiung trying to track your location, Theo pacing the dorm, Intak sending frantic texts, Soul and Jongseob hovering silently behind them, waiting for any sign that you were okay.

You didn’t want to cause that. Not again. Not because of you.

You’ve always had your share of… problems. The kind that never really go away — mental, physical, emotional. You’ve learned to live with them, to hide them behind practiced smiles and small reassurances. The group knows, of course. They’ve seen the bad days. They do their best to take care of you, to remind you that you’re not alone.

But sometimes, they forget. Not because they don’t care — but because life doesn’t slow down for any of you. When the schedules pile up, when the lights are blinding and the cheers are deafening, it’s easy for your pain to fade into the background.

And you never remind them. You never want to be a burden.

You always tell yourself it’s for them. That you stay quiet for them. That you hold yourself together for them.

But sitting there on that cold park bench, phone vibrating over and over in your hand, you start to wonder if maybe — just maybe — disappearing like this hurt them more than you ever meant to.

Your phone buzzes again.

And again.

And again.

You finally glance down, just to make sure nothing serious has happened back at the dorm — but it’s worse than that.

Keeho [7:42 PM]: Where are you?

Keeho [7:43 PM]: You didn’t say anything before you left.

Jiung [7:44 PM]: Hey, are you okay? We just got back and you’re not here.

Theo [7:44 PM]: Please text us when you see this. Just so we know you’re safe.

Keeho [7:46 PM]: You’re not answering your phone.

Keeho [7:48 PM]: I’m trying not to freak out, but you know I will.