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it had been a long nine months. victon had never been on hiatus for so long and no one had seen it coming. every day the silent question of why echoed through their group and with everything they did. they still woke up early, still practiced all hours of the day, but for what? why practice when they don’t know what comes next? they’d been given no explanation, and when they found enough courage to ask what was going on again they were quietly dismissed and told to wait for instructions, they’d have a comeback soon enough. after a while, the instructions stopped coming. no one told them to keep practicing, no one told them to interact with the fans on social media, and no one told them why they were still here. it was complete radio silence. the members felt like they were caught in a loop, repeating their actions mindlessly and hopelessly, thinking that at any moment now a comeback would be in the works and they’d have a reason to wake up in the mornings.
despite all this, seungwoo kept working the hardest out of all of them. sometimes it seemed like he was unaffected by the idleness of their life, but in reality he was just the most experienced at compartmentalizing and burying his emotions. he needed to keep a level head to carry the others through this difficult time, even though most days he doubted if they’d ever have a comeback at all. he toiled away at practicing his dancing, singing and rapping, and writing and composing enough songs to fill multiple albums. he didn’t know if they’d ever see the light of day but he needed to do something to keep busy and this at least made him feel like he was still an idol.
that’s why, when the company told them that some of the members would be joining produce x 101, he didn’t know what to feel. he felt numb and also terrified at the same time. instead of not knowing what to feel, it was more like not knowing how he even could feel. how would this affect victon? why some members and not all? if said members made it into the final lineup for the show, what would victon do for more than two years without some of their members? no matter the outcome, it felt like a death sentence. the only thing he could imagine possibly benefiting them is if the members were eliminated from the show, but he felt selfish for wishing for what others dreaded more than anything. for the young trainees on that show, winning was everything.
for seungwoo, debuting as a part of victon felt a win in itself. he had trained for years and worked so incredibly hard to prove himself to everyone, and finally managed to debut with six friends he would cherish for a lifetime. he was happy, then. and he stayed happy, making music with those incredible, talented people. he didn’t understand why it had to stop, and he never would. they were doing well, even, before the hiatuses. and now, he didn’t know if that happiness he felt would ever be possible again. maybe produce x 101 was their only chance at any of the members ever achieving fame.
in any case, he knew he had to go. when the company asked for volunteers, he volunteered himself immediately. he wouldn’t send two of his members by themselves with no leader. if he had to choose between supporting the member who went on the show and supporting the ones who stayed behind, it was no doubt the show. he knew what kind of hell trainees endured there, and byungchan would need him.
for weeks, they prepared for the show. he felt himself slip into a fixed state of mind: emotionally numb, focused, and determined on doing his best to stay afloat while also keeping an eye on byungchan. as the show went on, seungwoo was surprised to see that byungchan didn’t really need him. he made friends quickly, charismatic and beautiful as he was, and seungwoo was feeling unsettlingly alone. he hadn’t been truly alone in a long time. he wanted to make friends, but he couldn’t find it in himself to put in the effort. his focus was on the tasks at hand, 100%, and deviating even slightly felt like a betrayal. to whom, he didn’t know. but his rank slipped slightly per episode, and he needed to keep working. so he did, and he didn’t become close to many people. those who he felt closest to seemed like ghosts at times, figments or outlines of full people that he just couldn’t see as real. he didn’t know how to see them as real.
from time to time, byungchan checked in on him, but he managed to convince the other that he was doing well. he put on his best smile, made a few jokes, and they went on their ways. he couldn’t say if he faked them or not, because he couldn’t really distinguish a real emotion from a structured, practiced one anymore.
and then came the finals.
seungwoo was tired. he was emotionally and physically tired. the kind of tired that sinks deep into your bones and feels like it’ll never leave you. the kind that makes you want to gently disappear, to sink into a void of nothingness. the kind that makes you crave the silence and dread it all at once, because the silence gives you peace but leaves you with your thoughts. he didn’t know how to find the meaning in his work anymore. why did he keep waking up every day and practicing for hours and hours? what was the point? he didn’t see a way out except by elimination, yet he feared it on a primal level. elimination was nothing short of failure — just more proof that victon was destined to disband if their leader couldn’t even win a stupid survival show. he knew byungchan would win, though, as he’d stayed in the top 11 for almost the entire show, while seungwoo kept slipping, slowly, almost imperceptibly. every raw emotion felt like a battle within himself, because he didn’t know which version of himself was real. the bitter, jealous seungwoo that hated byungchan for winning over him, the proud leader that would support anything his members did, or the empty seungwoo that simply couldn’t find it in himself to care about the outcome of anything.
at the core of it all was the seungwoo that desperately wanted something familiar. he wanted the comforting routine of home. he wanted to wake up every day and see his members, he wanted to walk with them to the practice room and work hard together , because if they were together the work would have a purpose. if nothing came of it, at least they’d have each other, and they’d have their memories. but seungwoo hadn’t talked to anyone other than byungchan in months and anytime he thought about them he felt a strong, visceral pain in his chest. he just wanted home.
and home for him meant more than just the members, and the routine. it meant seungsik. the one person who could truly put him at ease and make him feel happiness no matter the circumstance, the one person that could make him feel truly loved. they hadn’t been apart in years, and now, here he was, wasting his life on a show he didn’t give a shit about, unable to do something as simple as talk to the love of his life.
when they were finally offered an opportunity to use a phone and call anyone they wanted, his thoughts immediately landed on seungsik. not his parents, or his friends, or any other member. just seungsik. he wanted desperately to hear his voice again, his pretty lilt and the way he always sounded like he was just happy to be alive, as if he couldn’t stop himself from adding a little bit of melody to every word.
and then the anxiety slipped in, fast and hard, reminding him that byungchan was probably gonna call the members too. what if they both tried to call at the same time? even worse, what if seungsik answered, and he didn’t want to talk? what if seungsik had grown tired of him, seeing his lifeless eyes on tv perform the same things over and over again and begging for validation from the public like a stray dog begging for scraps of food? he didn’t know if he could take the rejection.
seungsik picked up after two and half rings.
“seungwoo hyung? is that you?” the tears slipped out before he had even said the first word. seungwoo sat on his bed in the dark dorm room, alone, hunched over himself and quietly sobbing, wishing to be home instead of on the phone with it.
“i miss you.” he finally said, voice cracking and nasally, probably sounding disgusting, but he couldn’t care.
“i’m here.” seungsik said softly, and seungwoo could hear the sound of his heart breaking even through the phone.
“i- i don’t know- i can’t-,” seungwoo tried to form a sentence, tried to get his thoughts across, but all the feelings he’d bottled up since the hiatus was announced almost a year ago flooded him all at once, and trying to control it only made it worse.
“shh, it’s okay. i’m right here. we have time, just let it out. i’m right here with you.” the comforting words were what he needed, more than anything, and he finally let the sobs out at full force, letting them be heard. his sobs echoed through the silent room, as he listened to himself and the grounding silence through the phone.
“i want to come home.” his voice trembled, raw and open. only seungsik could hear him this way.
“and you will, soon. finals are coming up, right?”
“they are, but—,” he paused, heaving another sob before continuing, “i’m scared.”
“why are you scared?”
“i’m scared of- of failing everyone.” the hyperventilation kicked in again with his panic. he felt like a child. “i don’t want you to be d-disappointed in me.”
“seungwoo, i want you to know that no matter what happens, ever , i will never be disappointed in you. i love you, so much, and i will support you no matter what, okay?”
overwhelmed, seungwoo hunched over again, unable to contain a new wave of sobs, no matter how tightly he clamped his hand over his mouth to stifle them. he needed this.
“i-i love you. i love you. so much. i want to see you.”
“you’ll see me soon, i promise. after the finals, i’ll come pick you up. just me, no one else. okay?”
“okay.”
just as he said that, there was a loud knock on the dorm room’s door. “time’s almost up!” someone yelled. it was too muffled to tell who it was.
“shit, i have to go.” he couldn’t help the desperation he felt at having to hang up. he didn’t know how he was going to do it.
“everything’s gonna be okay, hyung. you’ll perform beautifully at the finals, and then it’ll all be over and you can come home. i promise.”
“okay.”
“i love you.”
“i love you too.”
“i’ll hang up, so you don’t have to. goodnight, angel.” that pet name always made his heart soar. seungsik was the angel, not him, but seungsik made him feel like he was worthy of the title.
“goodnight.”
and silence.
he expected to feel his heart break silently again, but he just felt nothing, and not in a bad way. he felt spent, like all of his emotions were exhausted from being expressed and not bottled. for once, he allowed himself to smile genuinely.
+
after the finals, seungsik came to pick him up just like he promised.
“hi,” seungwoo said to him after they met in the parking lot. for some reason, he felt shy. didn’t he even notice he was shaking until seungsik held his hands and their eyes met. seungsik was smiling that blinding smile he always does. seungwoo dropped his hands to throw his arms around him in a tight hug. he wrapped his arms around seungsik’s waist and buried his face into the crook of his neck. his heart felt calm, and finally, for the first time in months, he felt free.
“you made it.” seungsik said, and seungwoo smiled his second most genuine smile.
“i did.”
he was home.