𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐃

ACT ONE FINALE.

PAST

(Survival Show)

"You know," Jun said absentmindedly, "you were drunk yesterday."

Y/n paused, the cup stopping before his mouth. He had a slight suspicion of that, seeing how much his head had hurt in the morning. But for Jun to blurt it out...

"There aren't any cameras here," Jun assured, " was just wondering if you remembered what had happened."

"Well, I didn't hear any complaints from you, so nothing much should have happened." Y/n shrugged, applying cream on his skin, "why? I don't really remember much. The alcohol must have been strong."

You drank so many bottles, Jun thought, of course you would forget.

"Then it's okay," Jun said dismissively, "but you aren't tired? We stayed up quite late."

"No, not really," Y/n answered truthfully, "I've quite a high tolerance to exhaustion. Were you not a student before? All that late-night revision paid off," Y/n washed his face, stretching his arms and glancing at Jun, "meanwhile, you look like you haven't slept a wink."

"I might perform badly today."

"You better not. It'll affect our group rankings," Y/n said immediately, whirling around, "I'll make you coffee. Don't you dare make us fail."

Jun couldn't help but laugh at the (h/c) haired male's adamant reply.

"You're pretty deep in this idol thing, huh?" He smiled, "you really want to debut?"

"Don't you want to debut?" Y/n flipped the question around, it would be weird if you didn't. It would be weird if not everyone here on this show didn't."

Plus, Y/n needed this. It was his gateway to freedom.

No matter what, he had to debut. There was no other possible explanation except that he needed it to survive.

Survival show, Y/n mused.

How fitting.

—

PRESENT

"Are you alright?" Y/n could hear a soft, concerned voice. It inched slowly into the recesses of his mind, filling up the broken crevices of his forgotten memories. He struggled to open his eyes.

Bile coated his throat.

"How—how long was I.." He rasped out, hands trembling as they reached out to grab the cup of water offered to him, "...out?"

The face came into view.

"For about fifteen minutes or so," Haneul informed him, frowning, "the fireworks went off, then you started getting all pale and dizzy—and before I knew it, you collapsed on the floor. Was it exhaustion? You looked like you were having nightmares."

"It's burning, Y/n!"

"The car—the car!"

Everything was so loud.

"Must have been," Y/n lied. He didn't wish to prolong this uncomfortable subject. He himself knew what had happened; the fireworks had caused some...trauma, for a lack of better words. And an ancient memory had been triggered.

An unpleasant one.

Y/n looked around. The set was bustling as few members continued to tweak lights and details, laying out various cables and equipment. Someone stood at the very top, filming the performance. It was all efficient and brisk; and at least, nothing much had been changed, or slowed.