Chapter 19: Improvement

The car ride back to the dorm was quiet.

Ni-ki sat beside Hayoon, his fingers lightly tapping against his knee. He had insisted on taking her back himself, not wanting her to go alone. The dorm building loomed closer, and he glanced at her, watching her expression.

She looked exhausted.

Not just physically, but in a way that ran deep, like her soul itself was tired. Her eyes, once filled with so much light and determination, were dull. Her skin was paler than before, lips dry, fingers nervously twisting the hem of her sleeve.

Ni-ki wanted to say something—anything—but he didn't know what.

So he just stayed beside her, offering quiet reassurance.

When they reached the dorm, Hayoon hesitated at the door. Her hand hovered over the handle, and for a moment, Ni-ki thought she might turn around and run.

"You don't have to go in alone," he said softly.

She swallowed, then nodded, taking a deep breath before finally opening the door.

The dorm was warm, dimly lit, and familiar.

And then—

"Hayoon?"

Minseo was the first to react.

The second she saw Hayoon, she dropped the book she had been holding and rushed toward her, pulling her into a tight hug.

Hayoon froze at first, unaccustomed to the sudden warmth, but Minseo didn't let go. She held her like she was afraid she'd disappear again.

"I was so worried," Minseo whispered.

Jiwon, Sojin, Yeseul, and Hayeon stood behind her, watching with careful eyes. None of them spoke immediately, as if unsure of what to say.

Then Jiwon, the leader, stepped forward.

"Are you okay?" she asked, voice gentle.

Hayoon wanted to say yes.

Wanted to reassure them.

But she couldn't lie.

So she just nodded slightly, looking down.

They let her settle in, not pressuring her to talk, not forcing her to explain. And Hayoon was grateful for that.

Ni-ki lingered near the door, watching.

She turned to him, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Thank you for walking me back."

His expression softened. "Of course. Call me if you need anything, okay?"

She nodded, and with one last glance, he left.

Weeks passed.

At first, Hayoon barely left her room.

She slept a lot, curled up in the blankets, facing the wall. The members took turns checking on her, leaving food outside her door, trying to talk to her when she was willing.

Minseo was the most persistent.

"You need to eat," she would say, pushing a bowl of rice toward her.

Hayoon would stare at it, her stomach churning with guilt.

She knew she needed food.

She just didn't feel like she deserved it.

But Minseo didn't let her slip.

She would sit beside her, patiently waiting, sometimes even feeding her small bites until Hayoon gave in.

Little by little, she started eating again.

Sojin tried to make her laugh, telling the dumbest jokes, making silly faces, doing anything to bring back even a tiny smile.

Sometimes, it worked.

Other times, Hayoon just stared at her, eyes empty.

But they never gave up on her.

And slowly, painfully, she started to move forward.

She left her room more often.

She sat in the living room while the others watched TV.

She even went on short walks outside, though she always kept her head down, fearing someone would recognize her.

It wasn't much.

But it was something.

Then, the company called.

And everything came crashing down again.

"You're improving," her manager said. "That's great to hear."

Hayoon sat stiffly in the company office, Jiwon and Minseo beside her.

She knew what was coming.

"We need you back for the next comeback," the CEO continued. "Promotions start in two months. That's enough time to regain your strength."

Two months.

Hayoon barely felt human, and they wanted her back in two months.

Jiwon's jaw tightened. "That's too fast."

"She's been on hiatus long enough," the CEO said, dismissively. "Fans are asking about her. We can't delay it any longer."

Minseo scoffed. "So you care more about the fans than her actual well-being?"

The CEO sighed. "I care about the group's success. Hayoon is part of this group. If she wants to keep her career, she needs to return."

The words felt like a punch.

If she wanted to keep her career.

As if she hadn't worked her entire life for this.

As if she hadn't already given everything.

Her hands clenched into fists.

She wanted to say no.

Wanted to fight back.

But what could she do?

This was her dream.

And yet, why did it feel like a nightmare?

That night, Ni-ki called her.

She stared at his name on the screen, debating whether to answer.

Eventually, she picked up.

"Hey," he said.

Silence.

"You okay?" he asked gently.

No.

Not even close.

But she didn't say that.

Instead—

"I have to go back."

A long pause.

Then a sigh.

"I figured they'd do this," Ni-ki murmured. "You're not ready, Hayoon."

She squeezed her eyes shut. "I don't have a choice."

"Yes, you do," he said firmly. "You can say no."

But could she?

She had fought so hard to debut.

She had sacrificed so much.

And if she refused now, what would happen to her?

She didn't know.

And that scared her.

Ni-ki sighed again. "I don't want you to do this if it's just gonna hurt you more."

His concern made her chest tighten.

He cared.

He had always cared.

But right now, she didn't know how to take that kindness.

"Goodnight, Ni-ki," she whispered.

She hung up before he could say anything else.

And that night, she barely slept.

The next day, she went back to practice.

It was awful.

Her body was weak.

She stumbled more than once, her legs shaking from the lack of nourishment.

Her breath came out in short gasps, her vision blurred.

She knew people were watching.

Knew the trainers were noticing how slow she was moving.

And when she sang—

Her voice cracked.

There was pain in it.

Raw, exposed pain.

And yet, no one said anything.

They just pushed her harder.

"Again," the dance coach ordered.

Hayoon swallowed, forced herself to move, forced herself to keep going even though every step felt like dragging a thousand pounds.

She barely made it through the day.

And when she collapsed onto the practice room floor after rehearsal, panting heavily, she felt completely empty.

Like she had given everything she had left.

And it still wasn't enough.

That night, Ni-ki texted her.

"Did you eat today?"

She stared at the message for a long time before replying.

"Yeah."

It was a lie.

She hadn't eaten at all.

And deep down, she knew Ni-ki probably knew that.

But he didn't push.

He just sent back:

"Please take care of yourself."

She put her phone down.

And she tried not to cry.