a moment of vulnerability
SYNOPSIS ✶ "nothing haunts us like the things we don't say." –unknown
PAIRING ✶ ateez x 9th member! male! reader
GENRE ✶ ot9 au, angst to comfort
WARNINGS ✶ trauma, deadbeat father, death
YINGLES' NOTE ✶ guess who's back after almost half a year lamaoaooa
it's practice time once again. you've- well, all of ateez have been darting all over the place from the company to interviews to music shows, and you haven't been able to catch a break.
you desperately want to calm the raging sea in your heart, but the other members have it hard as well, so what benefit would it bring if you were to vent and rant to anyone of the members?
not to mention how composed hongjoong and seonghwa has been, you can't fall behind them, you just can't.
so what you plan to do is just get it over with, hurry up with practice and go back to the dorms to finally rest on your nice and fluffy pillows.
"... and three, four and five- wooyoung, you're supposed to be over here." you mark blankly as you point to the left side behind you where an empty space was.
"oh, crap- sorry noona, i can't seem to get these steps right..." wooyoung chuckles dryly, trying to lighten up the mood despite your stern and unmoving expression.
"no, i feel you. noona, don't you think you should slow down a bit...?" san offered, not wanting to touch a nerve. "i agree," seonghwa piqued, "maybe we should take a break first, i think you need one too m/n."
the man smiled gently as the members all went over to the water bottles and began to drink their beverages. you tapped your feet against the floorboard and bit your nails, they've already became rough and callous from how much your teeth has been abusing them over the weeks.
"hyung? i just wanna ask-" yeosang cuts himself off when he sees you sweating profusely and lips becoming paler, "h-hey, you okay?" his face contorts into one of worry.
you came back to your senses before clearing your throat, "sorry yeo, what's— what did you need?" you ask again. "as i was saying..." yeosang begins slowly, though his expression holds one of worry and suspicion.
practice, shows, recording.
that's all you had to get done under this month, it's only started but you can't seem to relax. it's only three simple words but somehow you found the actions more complex and annoying. you also can't seem to focus on yeosang's question.
you began to sweat again as your heart rate sped up, why were you feeling so stressed? why are they all lounging as if we're on vacation?
you couldn't wrap your head around it, and you couldn't calm your raging breaths either. as yeosang waited for a response, his tongue darts out to wet his lips before he asks once again, waving a hand in front of your face.
the action makes your head spin even more. you wanted him to stop, your mouth opening and closing but no words come out. you felt a migraine slowly come but you just weren't able to find your voice.
suddenly you slap his hand away, the loudness of the skin collision makes yeosang shocked, along with the other members who turned their head upon the sound.
and for a moment, it was silent. everyone had the same thought running through their heads, including yours. 'he has never raises his hand against any of us.'
"fuck- sorry yeo, are you okay...?" you ask nervously as you reached out, only for the man to pull further back, the action alone makes your heart break, but further when his soft eyes stare at you in fear.
hongjoong steps up and pats yeosang's shoulder as his stinging hand falls to his side awkwardly, "hey, what's going on?" the man asks, not really able to comprehend the situation as of now.
your mind drifts back to an instagram reel you saw a few nights ago. 'the abused becomes the abuser', 'the manipulated becomes the manipulator'.
was that possible? were you really evolving- no, devolving, into him? that wretched man who clung to your blood like a parasite, the man that made you worse and better than you ever were before.
your fa- "hey m/n!" hongjoong snaps a finger in your face, bringing you back to reality. "what's going on? you okay? do you need something?" the bombard of questions makes your head spin.
you stumble back and hold onto the rail, surprising all the members as you began to pant, hand going to hold your head from your swirling thoughts.
stress, anxie- wait, are you even breathing? could you breathe? god, the air in here is so stuffy — the practice room was smaller than you imagined now that you looked at it seriously.
ugh, your stomach was churning really badly. did you even eat enough this morning? no- i mean how could you? how could you possibly stomach food when you're having a panic attack?
you dry heaved before your hand comes up to cup over your mouth, eyes scanning the now blurry members who were slowly coming closer before you rushed out of the practice room and threw up in the middle of the hall by the wall.
you slid down on your knees your breakfast and all the bullshit you ate from yesterday hits the ground, leaving your stomach empty, just like your head now.
you wiped the spit from your lips and swallowed, the bitter taste of barf filling your tongue as your face cringes and mind swirling.
upon seeing the figures of your members rushing towards the hallway, your eyes gave out before you passed out onto the ground.
enveloped in darkness, you saw a silhouette of a woman, your mother. you could always recognise her from anywhere, not because of the pink she always adorned — well, maybe. but you could never perfectly describe the reason why.
everyone's always complimented how similar you two looked, and you always became happy when that comment came.
you wanted to be just like her — so you grew out your hair, changed your personality and acted in line. that wasn't the real reason, but it was what you told your members.
maybe it was because deep in the back of your mind, you knew the blood of your deadbeat father ran in your blood, and that there was a possibility- even if it was 1%, that you would end up like him.
you hated the revelation, so in your delusion, you changed yourself, not for the better, but not for the worse either. still, you didn't know.
blood determines nothing. that is a fact itself with the way your father acts and treats you. in his eyes, you are nothing but scum. despite holding the family name and are able to pass the bloodline, he hated you and you never knew why.
though as you grew older, the more he'd raise his hand at you and hold violence as a more superior solution than anything else, that was his way, and you hated it to the bone.
your position now as an idol determines nothing either, it's not guaranteed. no matter how good of a company you come from, a little slip up could let decades of hard work spill down the drain.
just like your little hoobae seunghan, poor boy. he had so much waiting for him just to get thrown out last minute, you weren't sure why but you felt it would happen to you eventually.
maybe because it has happened to you already — not in the exact same way, but gosh did it leave the same traumatic scar it probably left seunghan too.
you wanted to become a writer, a famous one at that. you found comfort in the little letters you'd write on your notebook, creating different stories and scenarios that filled your heart with ease.
your mother was supportive and loved to read some of the short fictions you'd let her read. always giving you that sweet pat on the head and telling you how proud she was.
you looked up to her, amazed at how perfectly she held herself, despite the familial environment your father put you guys through.
but you found out she wasn't as strong as you thought, when she killed herself in the summer of 2012, when you were only 13 year old.
after then, you stopped writing all together. her words suddenly becoming empty when you thought back to it; if she could lie about her feelings, she could lie about her words too.
you never realised, but the pent up hatred for your mother was never hatred in the first place. you only ever felt guilty for not being mature enough for her to express her deepest feelings to you, even if you were only 13.
suddenly, your eyes shot open as a tear rolled down your temple from where you laid. you glanced around the room and recognised it to be your own, with an iv drip connecting to your arm.
before long, jongho comes in with a glass of water and almost drops it when you wake up. he places the glass down gently before sitting at your side.
his eyes are full of worry as they dart all over you, thinking about what to do or say. "jjongie..." you started, though you let out a few coughs at how dry your throat have gotten.
jongho immediately helps you sit up and drink the water, downing the whole glass in one go, almost making the maknae crack a smile if not for your worrying condition.
as he placed the glass down, the man sighs. "...are you ever gonna tell us what happened back there?" he asks slowly, almost sounding ashamed that's the first thing he says to you since you woke up.
but you only blinked before turning to stare up at the ceiling, "eventually, yeah— but what day is it?" you ask instinctively, feeling as if along time had passed.
"it's been a day..." the man replied with a gulp, remembering how fearful all the members were when the doctor says you'll be resting for a while.
you hummed and opened your mouth to speak before your door practically breaks down with the way wooyoung rushed in with tears in his eyes.
"HYUNG!" the man-baby exclaims as he kneels by your bedside and wails on your lap, "oh my god, you're alive!" he cries like a baby as yunho flicks his head, "hey don't jinx it."
a tiny smile graces your lips as you gently ran your fingers through the man's hair, bringing him ever-lasting comfort, just like how your mother has always made you feel.
in just a second, all the members have successfully poured into your room like roaches. and as you caught yeosang, he comes closer at your silent gesture.
"are you still hurt?" you ask slowly as your free hand caressed the back of his hand, where you'd slap. you knew it didn't hurt, the man could carry two of you without breaking a sweat.
but you just felt like you should ask, you know you should — you knew mother would've asked if it was here, and the thought alone makes a small smile creep up your lips.
"i'm okay, but are you?" he asks as he takes your hand in his and squeezes it reassuringly, "i think so." you chuckle, suddenly feeling so warm just with the upbeat chattering of your members.
you sigh shakily before bringing yeosang close and hugging the man in your arms. you gently raked your fingers through his hair as your eyes watered.
"hyung's sorry, i never meant to hurt you..." you whispered shakily, the guilt of that painful face yeosang made a day ago making your chest tighten.
the man simply smiled shyly and hugs back, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as he replies in a muffled voice. "it's okay, noona. i know you didn't mean it..."
hearing the common nickname of 'noona' makes you release the breath you didn't know you were holding as you sniffled gently before kissing the man's temple.
mingi chuckles, "guys, look at yeosang blush." wooyoung raises his head from where his tears stained your lap before he snorted, "he's bright red!"
yeosang blushes harder and yanks himself away from you in embarrassment. "am not! your eyes are redder than mine, you're the one who's crying like a little kid."
you smile upon the familiar scene of the boys bickering and bantering amongst each other, it's refreshing, seeing your members so relaxed and happy.
hongjoong sitting at your side catches your attention before you turn back towards him with a kind smile and he smiles back, what a captain.
"you don't have to tell us what's going on, but just know that we're here for you if you ever need us." he marks before grasping your hand and intertwining your fingers without anyone noticing.
"even though i'd like it to be only me," the man jokes, making you snort softly, "everyone else here loves you just the same, so don't keep everything bottled up."
a sudden laugh leaves your lips as the members go silent, turning to watch you with curiosity as you laugh your heart out, warming their hearts as well.
'if only mother had been surrounded by this much love back then, maybe she would've been able to see me grow into the writer she hoped i'd become.'
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