Jaemin liked to eat a lot, and he liked to eat often.
Generally, if there was food in front of him, it wouldn’t be there for long. He would eat a snack when he woke up, a proper breakfast after his shower, another snack, lunch, a third snack, dinner, and a final snack before bed. His parents often worried about his habits but bought him plenty of food regardless, making sure that the pantry was always stocked.
His doctor always gave him a clean bill of health, saying that despite his food intake, he was still within the healthy weight (if not, even a bit under). “Teenagers eat a lot,” the doctor dismissed. “As long as his health is up to standard, keep doing what you’re doing.” That was just fine for the two parents. He had learned to accept his truth- he was a small boy with a big appetite and overzealous metabolism.
He just didn’t like the way hunger made him feel- shaky, confused, tired, nauseas...He’d just rather be walking around with a full belly and a pocket full of skittles.
His plan worked perfectly up until he joined SM. Almost immediately after moving into the dorms and changing schools, Jaemin realized that seven small meals throughout the day just would not happen.
Some mornings he got a granola bar before school. Lunch, thankfully, was a pretty regular event. The cafeteria served a generous portion; it was as if they knew that their idol students were craving the nutrients in their hectic lives.
Dinner was always takeout and always left Jaemin feeling gross during the following practice. He was too exhausted to properly fix himself a meal when he finally returned to the dorm, so most days ended with a dizzy, hunger-muddled flop into the bottom bunk. The weird part was that none of the other boys expressed the same feelings.
They were tired, yes, but none of them were constantly thinking about their next meal, trying to stand up straight just so that they could stuff somewhat nutritious food into their bodies. Even Chenle and Haechan, who were on forced diets, never looked as bad as Jaemin always felt.
“You’re losing weight, Jaemin,” Jeno worried, rubbing his friend’s shoulders and kneading the tense muscles. “You’re not on a diet.”
“Yeah,” Jaemin sighed, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm. He didn’t want or need to lose weight. He was already just so bony and gangly. “It’s my metabolism. It’s always been high.”
“I’ll say,” the other sighed, laying down in Jaemin’s lap so that they could look into each other's eyes. “You should start eating breakfast.”
“I don’t have time.”
“Nutrition always comes before a schedule, Nana. Even if you can’t eat a full meal, try to get something in your body to keep you going, alright? A little bit of sugar to keep your blood pumping, yeah?”
Jaemin nodded tiredly, playing with Jeno’s soft hair. He knew it wouldn’t remain so healthy once the boys made their debut. He shivered at the thought of all the bleach and dye that would stain his thick black hair. “Yeah. I’ll figure something out,” he answered plainly.
…
Candies were his solution- caramel, mostly, though fruity hard candy and small chocolates sometimes took their place. It made his mouth feel sticky and his breath smell weird, but the constant flow of chunks of processed sugar kept him alert and feeling much better than before.
Sugar, constantly, to the point that the members teased him and mentioned his candy addiction on variety shows once they had finally come out of the basement and made their appearance to the world- super rookies.
Jaemin was a super rookie, and his habits were working just fine for him. Sure, his tongue was stained, and his mouth was gross, but he was never dizzy and tired like before.
That was of course, until their regulated doctor appointment.
“Na Jaemin, your teeth are going to fall out of your head if you don’t cut that sugar addiction.”
Jaemin had laughed at the doctor, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “I...I’m not addicted. I just like the way it makes me feel, and-”
“You’re not going to like the way it makes you feel when you’re in late stage tooth decay. More than that, thirty pieces a day for any longer will cause incredible health problems in your future. Candy can’t taste that good, can it?”
The patient shook his head. “It’s...it makes me feel better. The sugar- it helps me focus, you know? Less jitters and nausea.”
The doctor laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Try a stress ball instead.”
Well, so much for that quick fix.
…
For about a week, Jaemin was fine. Idol life was slightly more manageable than trainee life- at least when it came to eating the right amount of food. Their days consisted of many different schedules piled on top of one another, lots of car rides, practice, and plenty of in between time to sneak snacks.
Then promotions ended, and it was back to the grind again, preparing for their next comeback. The memories of sleepless nights and hours upon hours in a practice room came back full force as they’re forced into that lifestyle again. Jaemin’s back had healed marginally, but it still required a level of care to keep it that way.
But as it always goes, one problem gets fixed, and another pops up.
Without the candy to keep him grounded, he felt just as bad as when he first arrived at the company. The boys were eating less regularly again, recording and choreography practice taking up any and all time for Jaemin’s snacks.
Instead of the constant fruit and crackers, Jaemin was left with only the three essential meals- breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They were rushed, sure, but he was thankful that he at least got that. Once again, Chenle and Haechan ate even less than the rest of them, trying to maintain their slim form.
If Chenle and Haechan were doing fine on even less food than him, why was Jaemin struggling so much?
He felt like shit.
He supposed that he shouldn’t have been surprised when it all came to a head one day in dance practice. Lunch that day had been a toasted turkey sandwich. Breakfast was leftover bulgogi. There was plenty of food. He was eating healthily, and he still felt so unwell.
The dance was horribly rigorous, lots of jumping and popping, and the temperature in the room wasn’t helping anything.
“Are you feeling alright?” Haechan asked, laying a hand on Jaemin’s sweaty back and kneading the muscles. “Is it your back?”
“My back hasn’t bothered me in nearly two months,” he panted, brushing him off. “I’m just...I’m- this dance. It’s hard.”
Haechan eyed him sceptically, and Jaemin immediately kicked himself for being an ass. Haechan, who was in both dream and 127, wasn’t complaining. No, he was checking on Jaemin, who was crying because...what, the dance was hard? God, it was so stupid.
“The dance is hard,” the other agreed. “But the rest of us don’t look like we’re going to keel over and puke.”
Jaemin shoved him off, immediately offended. “You know what, I’m allowed to be tired, Haechan! I’m fucking- I’m trying, okay. Shit, I’m just trying to learn this god forsaken dance, and-”
“I wasn't telling you that you were doing bad!” Haechan protested, holding out his hands to placate the angry member. He feared that Jaemin would fall over if he tried to do anything other than just breathe. “I was trying to say that you don’t look well, Nana. Why don’t you have a seat?”
“No,” Jaemin protested, taking a drink despite the way it felt so horrible, sloshing around in his empty stomach. “The choreographer told us to practice, and I’m not just going to sit around. Come on, let’s dance.”
Behind his back, the rest of the members exchanged worried glances. This anger was definitely out of character for him- exhaustion? He certainly had all of the signs and symptoms, but he slept every single night and ate at every single meal. He was taking care of himself; there was no reason for this outbreak.
What was wrong with Jaemin?
Wanting to fill up the awkward silence, Jisung turned the song back on, music pumping loudly enough through the speakers to rattle the mirrors. Their footsteps were perfectly in sync, both the practice and chemistry between the members allowing them flawless precision. There was a reason that they had once been super rookies.
It was incredibly noticeable when one of them was off.
It was Jaemin, dancing sloppily in the back, missing steps that they had learned and practiced for weeks. His movements were smaller, less powerful, until they stopped completely. Jeno just barely managed to get a hand clenched around Jaemin’s bicep when he went down.
The dead weight took them both down, Jeno stumbling in his effort to step over the sick member. After Jisung had paused the song, the room was dead silent, save for the harsh breathing, and after half a beat of nothing, they all sprung into action.
“Jaemin,” Jeno called gently, taking charge as one of the calmer members there. He snapped his fingers in front of his pale face, calling the other boy’s attention. “Are you sick?”
Jaemin hummed, head flopping back when Jeno adjusted his hold. Haechan quickly moved to help hold it up. “I- uhm, I...drink?”
“Jisung, get his water,” Jeno instructed, not looking away. “So you didn’t have enough to drink?”
“No?”
“Did he eat today?” Haechan asked, looking at Renjun. The Chinese member was always the best at keeping track of meals that the rest of them ate. He knew to let the dieting members do their thing and exactly when to step in if need be. Jaemin always, always ate well.
Renjun nodded. “He had plenty of food.”
Jaemin tensed in Jeno’s arms, wriggling around and trying to gain leverage to push himself up.
“Jaemin, stop moving. Keep still, just-”
He broke away with a final grunt, getting onto his hands and knees, promptly throwing up onto the wooden floor. Before any of them had a chance to react, he got into a standing position, quickly walking to the door. He only made it a few steps before he came down again- this time, nobody was there to catch him.
He let out a final groan. He stilled.
“Shit!”
“That’s it,” Haechan decided, marching forward. “Jeno, get him on your back. He’s going to a hospital.”
“Shouldn’t we call-”
“No time,” Jeno interrupted Jisung, easily looping Jaemin’s arms around his shoulders and standing. “Haechan’s right. We can’t wait.”
“And there’s a hospital a few blocks away anyways,” Renjun agreed. “I already called the manager.”
Chenle was holding the heavy practice room door open. “What’re you waiting for? Go!”
…
“Hypoglycemia.”
If the situation wasn’t so serious, the five boys could’ve flat out laughed at the doctor. Jaemin had fainted- hit the ground without any attempt to catch himself. He was unconscious. There Jaemin was, situated in a hospital bed with a needle in his veins, fluids flowing into his arm from a bag, and all the doctor had to say was “hypoglycemia”?
“He eats just as much as the rest of us,” Renjun spoke smoothly. “Is there any reason that he’d experience this?”
“Do these episodes happen often?” the doctor asked, turning to Jaemin. “Do you feel dizzy, nauseas, hungry...headaches, shakiness, confusion- any or all of that?”
Jaemin nodded. “All of that.”
“All the time?” Haechan asked, dumbfounded. “Jaemin, what- when?”
“I’m fine after I eat a meal,” Jaemin assured him, wringing his hands. Chenle noticed and took them into his own, holding tightly. “It’s just...after an hour or so, I start to get hungry again, and I don’t snack as often anymore, so I just have to wait until the next meal.”
And none of them noticed this? None of them?
“I just get all...bleh.”
“Yes, well that ‘bleh’ is called hypoglycemia,” the doctor spoke up. “Your body burns through sugars much quicker than the others. It’s why you can’t really put on fat, even if you eat a lot. Your metabolism is going overboard.”
“Okay…” Renjun drawled. “So how do we stop that? He can’t just...be hypoglycemic all the time. He dances on stage in thick clothes, you know. Hot lights, hours of sweating and performing. How do we keep his sugar up?”
“Jaemin, I have the cure for your ailment...Eat more.”
“That’s it?” Jisung asked. “What if he faints?”
“He won’t if he makes sure that his meals stay consistent. Snacks, fluids, everything. If the blood sugar drops, all that the rest of you need to do is get him to take a rest and keep a stash of juice, candy, and fresh fruit. Maybe some crackers.”
“But how will we be able to tell?”
“I’ll send you home with some basic symptoms of hypoglycemia. Jaemin, now that you know what’s been making you feel so bad, it’s your responsibility to recognize the signs and symptoms, alright? Low blood sugar is dangerous. Do you understand?”
“Keep snacking, get sugar if I feel bad,” Jaemin repeated.
“Alright, well it looks like you’re all set then. I’ll prepare the discharge papers.”
They waited for him to leave, white coat flying out behind him like he was some superhero. None of the members could fight the sense of dread in their chests. Jaemin was sick, and the doctor tells them to just feed him some sweets when it happened again?
“I can hear you guys thinking. Stop.”
That bought a humorless chuckle from the group.
Renjun decided that if nobody else was going to talk, it would have to be him. “Jaemin-ah...you know that you’re going to have to tell us when you’re feeling bad, right? We’ll do our best to look after you and help you if your blood sugar gets low again, but it’s dangerous. If you faint and we’re not there, or- god, I don’t even know what happens if the blood sugar falls even further than that, but-”
“I understand, Injunnie. I’ll start to eat more snacks, and I’ll make sure to keep tabs on myself...I don’t need anybody to baby me.”
“Right.”
And that was all that could be said, all that could be done. They just had to keep him snacking. That was a much simpler treatment than they could’ve hoped for.
…
Jaemin had things back under control. Unfortunately, he was far worse at recognizing his low blood sugar than the members were. It was an odd thing to do- check on yourself like that, trying to see if you felt poorly. Did he feel poorly or was that his mind convincing him that something was there when it wasn’t?
Were his hands really shaking from where they were bunched in his lap, or was it his eyeballs?
He looked back and forth, trying to see if anything changed. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard the interview going on around him, but he couldn’t think to pay much attention to it- not when his moving eyes made his vision swim so much.
Something nudged his knee. He hummed, looking to Chenle to see what he wanted before realizing that the interviewer was staring at him in silence. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that. Could you repeat yourself?”
“It’s no problem,” she reassured kindly. “I was just asking about your back injury. How is it returning to your group during this pivotal success point in your career?”
“I’m thankful for my health and my members help to get me through the harder days. Being back with the group is uhm...it’s- what’s the word? It’s uhm- It’s...”
“A relief?” Renjun suggested.
“Yeah,” he smiled, opening and closing his hands in his lap. He was starting to tingle. “It’s a great relief.”
They moved on to the next question, and before long, the members had called for a break. Thankfully, the staff agreed to let them go for a few minutes, casting worried glances at Jaemin. As soon as the cameras were cut, Renjun was standing behind Jaemin’s stool, chin on his shoulder. “Feelin’ alright, Jaemin? You’re shaky.”
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I’m...maybe a little- little low.”
Renjun hummed. “Jisung’s already in the dressing room getting peanut butter snacks and snapple.”
Jaemin groaned, throwing his head back on Renjun’s shoulder as the other wrapped his arms around his middle. It was an intimate moment between the two- normally one that they’d show off to fans, pulling apart awkwardly after. At that moment, they both had to admit...skinship had its benefits.
“I’m being treated like a toddler. Peanut butter crackers, seriously.”
“None of that,” Renjun scolded, pulling away to stare at him in the face. The staff were busy doing their own thing, and the remaining members were skillfully avoiding the minor crisis beside them, talking amongst themselves. It embarrassed Jaemin to be cared for. “You know that crackers are a good food for low blood sugar.”
“It’s not the food I’m embarrassed about.”
“Jaemin, none of us care that you get sick sometimes. It’s not a big deal for us to fetch you a snack every once and awhile. We don’t mind taking care of you.”
“But I mind it,” he protested.
“Then you’re stupid,” Renjun teased. “I get homesick sometimes. Should I be embarrassed that I need help with that?”
“If you’re trying to make me feel better, it’s not working,” Jaemin frowned.
“Of course it’s not. You haven’t eaten the magic crackers yet...Seriously, though, Nana, stop beating yourself up over this. You’ve had this problem since we’ve known you. I’m happy that you’re not dealing with it alone.”
Jisung strutted up, holding both the crackers and the sweet tea in one large hand. He bumped Renjun to the side with his hip to make room.
“I stole a cracker,” the youngest giggled through a mouthful of crumbs, handing off the rest of the package. Thankfully, the maknae moved to talk to the rest of the group after doing a quick once-over of his hyung. The teasing from Jisung, at least, was something that Jaemin was used to.
Renjun lounged casually, flipping through his phone and showing Jaemin things that he found interesting before going back to it. After a few minutes, the snapple was halfway gone, and the remaining crackers were sitting happily in Jaemin’s stomach.
“Feeling alright?”
“Much better,” he admitted, thanking a staff who took his garbage away.
“Great,” Renjun nodded. “See? No big deal.”
They settled back into their seats, smiling by the time the red light of the camera flicked on. The interview continued as normal, and Jaemin was able to contribute much more than he had. Maybe this whole ‘snack time’ thing wasn’t nearly as big of a deal as Jaemin made it out to be.
This was alright.
…
“You wanted to see me, hyung?”
Taeyong turned around, clicking off of the project he was working on and depositing his headphones on the computer desk. “Renjun-ah, how are you?”
“Good,” he responded suspiciously, closing the door behind him. “Am I in trouble?”
“No,” Taeyong chuckled. “Have a seat.” He waited for the younger to do so. “Mark told me what happened with Jaemin.”
“Ahh.” So that was what was bothering their unofficial leader. “He’s better now, hyung. If you wanted to talk to him, I’m sure he’d be happy to see you.”
“I will,” the elder promised. “I wanted to talk to you first, though. Ever since Mark graduated, I know that dream has been kind of leader-less, but...I’ve seen the way you especially care for the group.”
“Well we’re all the same age, except for Chenle and Jisung. I think it’s safe to say that all of the members look out for each other.”
“Right, and I know that. It’s just that...as a leader myself, I see all the qualities in you. I wanted to ask how Jaemin was doing.”
Renjun nodded, sinking into the studio sofa. “Better. The doctor told us to make sure that he gets around seven small meals a day instead of three big ones. We’re keeping snacks on us in case he gets low, so...he’s alright. You know, apparently he’d been dealing with this his whole life.”
“And he didn’t think to tell you?” Taeyong asked.
“That’s the weird thing- he didn’t even know. He just thought that was how everybody reacted to hunger.”
“Are you sure he’s not...diabetic, or something?”
“No, diabetes is underproducing insulin. He’d have high blood sugar, not low.”
“So it really just is his metabolism? He just burns through sugars quickly?”
“I guess so,” Renjun admitted, not knowing what else to say. There was nothing that he really could say to Taeyong, other than the truth. Jaemin fainted. He had hypoglycemia. They were dealing with it.
“And has he had any other episodes since he went to the hospital?”
“None as serious, no. He just gets confused and shaky sometimes, so we give him some snacks.”
“How are the rest of you dealing with it? Are you worried?”
“All the time.”
Taeyong nodded. It seemed that he understood all too well how it felt to try to take care of somebody in their busy lifestyle. He reached out, laying a hand on Renjun’s knee. “You’re a good brother to him. He’s lucky to have you.”
“He’s embarrassed about it,” Renjun confessed, spilling his frustration for the first time. “He doesn’t like to ask for snacks when he feels low- and that’s even if he notices it in the first place- and he gets so defensive when he needs help. It’s just...I don’t mind helping him at all, you know? He’s the one who minds it. I wish he would...grow up already.”
“Renjun-ah,” Taeyong scolded lightly. “It’s just as troubling for him as it is for you. When I talk to him, I’ll make sure to talk about that, okay? Try not to get too frustrated with him. He’ll get used to it all in due time.”
The younger sighed. “I hope so.”
Taeyong stood up, giving him a light hug and a pat on the shoulder. “Alright, then. I’d like you to text me all of his symptoms and snacks so if he’s with one of us hyungs, we’ll know how to help him. I’ll make sure everybody in 127 and WayV sees it. I’ll also tell them how to help him. I’m assuming that you’ve got snacks around the company building?”
“Yeah, there’s always a box of oreo packages in the dance room, and there should be more sweets in the dream recording studio.”
Taeyong laughed. “I’ll make sure to tell Jungwoo to stop munching on them, then.”
“Oh, that’s fine, hyung. We can always get more.”
“No, no, I’ll just make the brat buy his own...That’s all I wanted to talk to you about, Renjun-ah. Remember that you can always come to me to talk, or I can come slap some sense into any of your boys if need be. Don’t forget to text me.”
“I won’t. Thanks.” Just as he was about to leave, he turned back. “Oh, and Taeyong-hyung?”
“Yeah?”
“Go to your dorm. It’s nearly one in the morning.”
He rolled his eyes but took his headphones off once more. “I thought I’d escaped it when Doyoung went home,” he sighed. “Alright, wait while I grab my bag, and we’ll go home together.”
Renjun left the company feeling much better. He was convinced that Lee Taeyong was a wizard, sometimes.
…
Kun and Lucas were trying to cook in the kitchen, the elder of the two carrying most of the weight when it came to the chef team. They chatted happily with the other dream members, who had come home with rumbling stomachs, excited about the last-minute visit.
Renjun emerged from his bedroom, freshly showered and happy to smell the tantalizing aroma of real food.
“It’s been too long since you’ve had something other than delivery, Renjun-ah,” Kun scolded, stirring the contents of the pot while Lucas prepared the rice cooker. It was obvious which of the jobs was the easier one.
“Yeah, yeah,” was all that Renjun could say. He couldn’t really argue, could he? “How are the new guys? I hear you’ll debut soon.”
“In mid-January,” Lucas affirmed happily. “Our leader Kun’s gonna take over China with us.”
“Cut it out.” Kun gently elbowed Lucas, who’d thrown an arm over the leader as he was trying to cook. “They’re good, by the way. You’d like them.”
“Kun still won’t let us get a cat though,” Lucas frowned. “We’ve got seven members and plenty of space for a little kitty, and he keeps saying no.”
Renjun laughed at that, turning to the living room. “Jeno-yah! Give one of your cats to the WayV boys. They want one, and you’re allergic anyways!”
“Never,” the other hissed before going back to games with Chenle.
“Sorry, Lucas, I tried.”
The door opened so forcefully that it hit the wall, and Jaemin came storming in without even bothering to take off his shoes. He dropped his bag, pushing Renjun so hard that he fell off his stool, just barely managing to catch himself before hitting the ground. “Hey! What-”
“I can’t believe you’ve been talking about me behind my back,” Jaemin hissed, balling up Renjun’s shirt in his fist. “Now Taeyong thinks I’m some dumbass who can’t manage to take care of himself when that’s what I’ve been doing for months! For months I’ve been fine! My entire life!”
“Hey!” Renjun tried to defend himself from the taller boy. “He asked how you were, and all I said was that-”
“That I never tell you when I’m low, that I’m reluctant, that I’m embarrassed,” Jaemin finished for him. “I’m not your responsibility, Renjun!”
“You are!” Renjun roared back, still firmly within Jaemin’s hold. “You are my responsibility! You’re everybody’s because we care about you! So get over your embarrassment and just let us take care of you!”
“I can...I can take care of myself,” Jaemin muttered, eyes still fiery. He shook Renjun in his hold. “Okay? I’m...I’m good, okay? I’m good!”
“Jaemin…” Lucas trailed off, not knowing where he could step without turning the other boy’s rage toward himself.
Renjun didn’t stop. “I know that, Jaemin. I’m not oblivious! You’re a fantastic singer and dancer, and you keep up with us even when you don’t feel well. You’re not a liability, and you’re not an invalid. You’re allowed to get help sometimes!” He shoved the other back, halting when Jaemin tripped a bit, nearly crashing down. After a moment of stillness, Jaemin righted himself, swallowing thickly.
“I should...I should sit,” he grunted, swallowing again and grabbing the breakfast bar for support. Jeno, who’d entered the room as soon as the door crashed open, helped him into the chair.
“Maybe this isn’t the best show of how ‘good’ you are, huh, Jaemin?” Jeno asked, standing to the side to make sure that he didn’t fall over but not comforting him like he usually would. It was obvious how uncomfortable it made him. “Did you forget your snack?”
Jaemin sighed, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m so...f-frustrated and- and dizzy, and...tired.”
“That’s the blood sugar,” Renjun sighed, sliding over a cup of mandarin oranges from the fridge, one of Jaemin’s favorites. “Jeno, can you-”
“Yeah.” Jeno tore off the plastic film, helping to stabilize Jaemin’s shaky hands as he drank the juice first. He watched carefully as the shaking almost immediately began to decrease. Jaemin slowly ate the oranges, eyes glued to the counter.
Kun leaned over to Renjun. “So you just...give him a sugary snack?”
Renjun shook himself out of his daze, looking away from Jaemin. He registered that Kun was using Chinese and decided to reply back in the same language. Jaemin had already gotten mad at him for talking behind his back once. He didn’t need to know that he was doing it again. “Hmm? Oh, uh, yeah. But those only last a little while, so we get him to eat a longer-lasting food like bread, rice, fruit.”
Kun frowned in pity at the boy at the counter. “I guess I should finish up the meal, huh?”
Renjun gave him a shifty smile. “Yeah...the meal should hold him over for a while.”
Lucas came up behind Renjun. “And he’s...fine afterwards? Completely normal?”
Renjun nodded. “After a few minutes the food gets into his system. He feels fine and can go back to whatever he was doing before.”
“...Weird.”
“Hyung-”
“Not in a bad way! Just...weird.”
Renjun didn’t have anything to say. Even if he did, he wasn’t sure he could. He watched Jaemin as he retreated to his bedroom, eyes red and teary and so defeated. It hurt to look at.
“I’m not entirely convinced the frustration was all due to the blood sugar,” Jeno sighed, tossing the fruit cup away. “I hate it when he gets like this.”
“He’ll be fine,” Renjun assured the other, putting a smile on his face. He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince. “He’ll eat dinner and he’ll feel better. I’ll talk to him before bed....He’ll be fine.”
…
Jisung had experienced heartbreak two times in his life. He’d never had a girlfriend; without the time or interest, dating was a pointless endeavor. His idol life was much more important to him. So, it would make sense that the only two cases of heartbreak that Jisung had experienced would be related to his lifestyle.
Mark leaving left him with an incredible sense of loss.
Jaemin’s fainting episode left him feeling terrified that it would happen again.
Every single time that he was alone with his hyung, he found himself yearning to ask those three words that Jaemin despised- “Are you okay?”
And every time, Jaemin would respond with a “fine, Jisungie”, but the youngest could see the annoyance in his face. He could see that he hated being doted upon, especially by somebody a whole two years younger.
Jisung just never wanted to see him sprawled out on the floor again, feel his heart beat much too fast to be healthy, see his puke on the floor, apply cream to bruises caused by the dizziness of his condition.
Condition...if you could even call it that.
He’d done research after the hospital visit, and all that he’d seen was that it just “happened” sometimes. The first time he saw that, he’d thrown his phone to the floor in anger because “fainting doesn’t just happen, Chenle! He can’t be somebody this just happens to!”.
But he was. And Jisung had absolutely no idea how to cope.
The first nightmare had been the worst- screaming, thrashing, sweating, the whole thing. Chenle was crying too, trying to wake him up from whatever monster was attacking him in his sleep. Most, if not all (Jisung couldn’t remember), of the hyungs had burst into his room as well, only to see Jisung sobbing into Chenle’s chest.
Jisung never cried.
“It was a nightmare,” Chenle had said breathily. “It’s...it’s okay. It’s just a nightmare.”
“Well, do you need us to get something? Somebody?”
“Jisung?” Chenle asked, turning away when the youngest shook his head- a definite ‘no’. “No, just...go back to bed. I’ll stay with him.”
“Alright...Call us if you need anything, okay? We’ll help if we can.”
“Thanks hyung.”
And he’d told Chenle that it was some stupid...kidnapper that he’d dreamed of, with a knife as long as his forearm and a face just as scary. Even that wasn’t scarier than reliving the moment Jaemin fell to the floor and didn’t wake up again.
The nightmares persisted, but Jisung learned how to keep them silent, how to sneak into the bathroom and take a shower if they refused. Seeing Jaemin reminded him of the nightmares, so he chose not to see Jaemin at all, until one day, the elder had decided that enough was enough.
“Jisung.”
“Yes, hyung?”
“Turn off your game and look at me.”
Jisung’s immediate thought was that Jaemin was in trouble. He tossed his headphones, standing to catch him if he needed it but paused when he didn’t see a dazed, confused look on his face. He just looked...hurt. “Are you-”
“This isn’t about me, Jisung-ah. I want to know why you’ve been avoiding me.”
Oh. “I haven’t been.”
“Please don’t lie to me, okay? I’m not mad about it. It’s just that...ever since the hospital, you haven’t been able to look me in the eyes. You haven’t even tried since my argument with Renjun. Tell me why…Please.”
Jisung chewed on his bottom lip, not even knowing where to start. “You really want to know?”
“I really want to know.”
“Hyung, every time I see your face, I see the day that you collapsed during practice. And if I keep on looking, I see the list of symptoms that I looked up that day- fainting, seizures, coma, death...I know it’s not fair of me, and I know that you’re the one dealing with it, not me, so I’m sorry. I just...I can’t look at you.”
Jisung took a glimpse at Jaemin. For some reason, Jaemin’s stare made it impossible to look away. The elder grabbed Jisung’s large hand, pressing it against his chest. “Feel my heart beneath your hands, Jisung-ah, and tell me that’s not real.”
Jisung concentrated on the beating.
“I’m alive, and I’m dealing with my illness the best that I can, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”
“I don’t like to see you hurt,” Jisung admitted, wiping away the brimming tears with his free hand. “It- it sucks, hyung. I can’t see you hurt. I want to help you, but I know how much that hurts you too, so I just...I can’t, and I don’t know what to do.”
Jaemin felt a punch of guilt. He let Jisung’s hand go. “I suppose I’ve been a bit childish, Jisung-ah. Hyung is sorry for that.”
“W-what?”
“It’s okay that you want to help me,” Jaemin admitted, battling through the swirl of feelings in his chest. “It’s difficult to let people do that sometimes, but I think- I think that it’s time.”
“You’re going to let us help you more?”
“I’m going to let you help me as much as I need it,” Jaemin smiled, trying to reassure Jisung. “I’m sorry for keeping you away from that. I needed some time to come to terms with it myself.”
Jisung sighed, pulling him into a hug. “Renjun’s going to be happy to hear that.”
“Yeah...I’m sure he will, Jisung-ah.” (he’d slapped him. “About damn time, Jaemin!”)
If all that he needed to keep him going was a little bit of sugar and his members...well, then Jaemin had no reason to be sorry for himself. He was in safe, loving hands, and that was enough for him. He’d be alright. They all would.