#4town fandom

On at least some level, Jesse was aware that he had a problem. 

Last year, ‘97, Robaire had called him on it. Jesse had been sneaking out to practice after everyone else went to bed, running off at most three hours of sleep on most days. He had expectations to meet, things he couldn't fail, and to know that there was even a slight chance he could slip up was infectious.

This disease, this drive to be a walking example of perfection, was genetic. From the very moment he came into existence, it plagued him. 

What surprised him about Robaire's intervention wasn't that there was a problem, it was that he'd noticed the problem. He looked past the results, the good results, and saw what was happening on a much deeper level. Management didn't take too kindly to him putting in fewer hours, nor did they appreciate when he started making more mistakes, but for a little bit at least, he allowed himself to be satisfied with those imperfections.

But it was still genetic. When bad things happen, when he loses sight of how to manage his mind, he falls right back into his old habits.

It wasn't even like something that bad had happened. Jesse woke up after a particularly bad sleep, and when he'd gone to make himself toast, he dropped a plate. It didn't even break. He just dropped it. 

Instead of picking it up, he sat on the floor, trying to decide if he should cry or move on. 

It flipped a switch in him. His skin lit with the barest hint of energy, just noticeable enough to drive him nuts. He tried to shake it off in most cases, but today his attempt ended up with him accidently jamming his elbow into the cupboard behind him.

And that made the feeling so much worse.

When Taeyoung came into the kitchen, clad with messy hair and his oversized grey sleeping shirt, he took one sweeping look around to take everything in. Jesse waved meekly. 

Taeyoung walked right past him and hit something on the toaster. "What do you want on your toast?"

"My dignity."

He chuckled. "What happened?"

"I dropped a plate."

"I see." The toast popped, Taeyoung must have only intended to reheat it. "I don't think dignity spreads well."

"Surprise me then."

"Yes sir." 

The smell alone was enough to make him lightheaded. Maybe it was the lack of quality sleep, but whatever Taeyoung was spreading smelled delectable as it melted from the heat of the bread. He let himself get lost in the sound of the knife scraping.

Taeyoung eventually sat next to him, and handed him a new plate, adorned with two stunning pieces of jam-covered toast. 

"I thought you could use something sweet," he said. 

He took a bite. "Mm, you're something else."

"It tastes okay?"

"Tastes like dignity."

He broke into a grin. "It's just toast."

"Thanks, Tae."

"You okay?"

"Mhm."

"What's wrong?" 

Did he have a tell or something? How had Taeyoumg clocked him so fast?

"I need to do something."

That's how he ended up sitting on the black leather couch in the recording studio. Originally, it had been just the two of them, but one by one the other members showed up too. He thought that putting his energy into something would nullify the buzzing, but nothing he tried behind the booth seemed to cut it. The feeling was something akin to adrenaline, keeping him heightened and alert. 

Taeyoung was doing a horrible job at pretending he wasn't worried, but in all fairness, Jesse was doing a horrible job at pretending he didn't notice. They were locked in a stasis, neither moving to push either way. 

Seriously. The buzz, in all its frustrating glory, should not have been there. He slept badly, he dropped a plate, and he hit his elbow. That was not cause for such a strong reaction, and it was a strong reaction. That feeling was incredibly familiar, a symptom of his genetic predisposition to working himself into dust. 

Maybe he should be worried? 

Oh well. He didn't want to deal with whatever deeper implications came with that, so he wasn't going to. 

Luckily for him, Aaron T. was in the booth. If there was anything that was baffling enough to distract him, it was whatever he was planning to do.

"Okay, okay Tae, put on the beat."

Taeyoung saluted, his fingers dancing across the soundboard. Jesse had no clue how it worked, nor how Taeyoung learned to navigate it, but after a few clicks and messing with one of the many reel to reel cassette tapes, a slow, groovy hip hop track played. 

Aaron T. slipped the headphones up to his ears and stepped closer to the mic. As the intro played, he threw up two peace signs, letting his arms fall back to his sides. He nodded along to the counts, and then-

"When it comes to 4*Town, better ask Robaire. He sits in on more meetings than our manager, I swear."

Was he...? Was he freestyling? 

"Got an eye for design and a heart for a mind, the pitter patter patterns of rainfall are in his eyes."

Oh God. He was freestyling. This is what Jesse got for not paying attention. 

"He's a sensitive guy, but it's a weapon in disguise! You should see the 4*Townies falling for him when he cries."

He exchanged a glance with Robaire, whose entire face was alight with glee. Apparently, this was something to be delighted by. 

Never a dull moment with Aaron T., that's for sure.

"His French is captivating, he speaks it crystal clear. He makes his fans scream 'je veux te baiser.'"

"T.!" Robaire pressed the button that allowed him to speak into the booth. "That was foul!"

"Don't act scandalised, you taught me that!" Aaron T. pointed at him. His eyes briefly met Jesse's, and a playful smirk graced his lips.

Uh oh.

He waited for the next set of eight counts to start, pressing his hands together as though he was praying.

"Forgive me father, I think I might have sinned. Jesse just grounded me for bringing up his kids."

Jesse sank further into the couch. 

"Relax old man, it happens to the best of us, can't think of one guy who gets half as annoyed at us."

He was in between deciding if he was going to kill Aaron T. when he stepped out of the booth or not. For now, a middle finger would do.

"The resident pretty boy, I think I have a crush." He put his hand on his chin like he was genuinely thinking about it. "Got all of 4*Town on our knees and has the nerve to blush. When he's on stage he's magic, you'll see. Come to our next concert, cheer for him, Jesse!"

"Fuck you!" He called out. 

He laughed. "Love you, Jess!"

"Me next!" Taeyoung pretended to pound on the glass. "Me, me please! 

Aaron T. winked, and counted himself in. "If there's ever been an angel on earth, you'd find it's Tae-youngest off the group but think he's older any day-"

"Why is he doing this?" Jesse whispered to Aaron Z. 

"Beats me."

"-time you'll find him taking care of injured ani-mulls over every single reason he should leave us for the wolves."

"He's kinda clever," Aaron Z. added.

Jesse shook his head. "I will bet actual money he wrote these ahead of time."

"Be nice," Robaire teased, "he has a crush on you."

"Oh stop." He waved him away. 

"Did I call him an angel? I forgot, he's kinda not. Though we're both troublemakers, only I get caught."

Taeyoung made an innocent heart with his hands. 

"He's our baby brother, our muse, our inspiration, and his fans? There's enough to fill a whole nation."

"Baller!" Taeyoung cheered. 

"Ay-ron-zee, you're next!"

"Oh god," he mumbled.

"Our dance captain, that's my boy Aaron Z., he spits bars and riffs like it'll make him big green."

"He's coming for your gig." Robaire made a big show of sitting next to Aaron Z., putting his arm around him. 

Aaron Z. shoved him off. "Shut up."

"A little bit quiet but a softie at heart, unless you try to show him up, he'll tear your ass apart. 

He gave Robaire a foul glare. 

"Only ended up with us cause Robbie up and begged, left us spiralling and trying to get him in the bag."

"You love me." Robaire mouthed. Aaron Z. slapped his shoulder.

"Commodity and prodigy, everybody knows it's true. Catch Z! Coming to a big screen near you!"

Aaron T. slipped the headphones off, letting them rest on his shoulders. Taeyoung must have decided this was a personal attack, because he charged over to speak into the booth. 

"Put those back on, you're not done."

"Wha-"

"You didn't do yourself."

His nose scrunched. "Jeez, okay, if you're so excited."

"Yes I am," Taeyoung insisted, "Go go go!"

He put the headphones back on. "Last but not least, there's me, and that's T! There isn't much to say, but it's great being me."

Jesse found it hard to believe there could ever be few words to describe Aaron T.

"I'm with the best guys I ever could have known, the more I got to know them the more they really shown."

Oh. He was buttering them up. That made more sense.

"With all that said and all that done, I hope you got to see." Aaron T. bopped along with the words. "Robbie, Jesse, Taeyoung, Z., and maybe even me. 4*Town forever, our slogan reigns true. Immortalised in music and we do it all for you."

"Woo!" Robaire cheered. 

Aaron Z. flinched. "Do you have to yell in my ear?"

"You're grumpy today." Taeyoung giggled.

"'Am not," he grumbled.

Aaron T. left the recording booth and hit a button on the console to stop the tape. 

"T." Jesse nodded toward Aaron Z. "Make him happy."

He saluted. "Aye aye!"

"Don't-"

Aaron T. grabbed his wrist and gave him a little tug. He guided Aaron Z. to where there was a little more space, put his hands on his waist, and swayed like they were a high school couple at prom. 

"What's wrong?" He asked gently. 

Aaron Z., despite willingly participating in Aaron T.'s antics, did his best to look and sound annoyed. "Nothing."

"Nothing," he imitated, "okay big man, if you say so."

He shut his eyes. "'Gonna kill you, Jesse."

"Shh." Aaron T. stroked the side of his head. "Violence is not the answer."

"Aaron."

Jesse watched the mock gentleness become genuine as Aaron T.'s body language changed. "I've got you, you can relax."

And he did. Somehow, through the special Aaron bond or whatever, Aaron Z. completely melted, becoming putty for Aaron T. to mold. Jesse almost felt like he was intruding. 

Aaron Z. sighed. "Thanks."

"You wanna tell me what's wrong?"

He mumbled something, and Aaron T.'s cheeks flushed, his eyes widening with surprise. "If you say so."

Yup, now he really felt like he was intruding.

Taeyoung shuffled awkwardly past them to fill the now empty spot on the couch. 

"Are they staring?" Aaron Z. asked.

"Mhm."

He opened an eye. "Jealous?"

Maybe a little. Maybe a lot, but not for the reasons he was insinuating. Jesse would give just about anything to relax in that same way, to deflate, to stop being so itchy.

He squirmed a little, and Aaron Z.'s brow creased with worry. 

"Of course!" Taeyoung huffed. "But I can't decide who I'm more jealous of."

Aaron Z., gave Aaron T. a pat on the back. "Go give Tae some love."

They shared a look. 

"Okay." He eventually beamed. "If you say so."

Aaron Z. shuffled onto the couch, sitting on the arm. He nudged Jesse's shoulder. 

Taeyoung latched onto Aaron T. "With all that... what were the words?"

"Huh? Oh!" Aaron T. perked up. "With all that said and all that done I hope you got to see Robbie, Jesse, Taeyoung, Z., and maybe even me."

"I like the way that sounds." He hummed. "Robbie, Jesse, Taeyoung, Z., and maybe even me, it feels nice in the mouth."

Aaron Z. nudged his shoulder again, and Jesse realised he wanted his hand. He gave it to him. 

Taeyoung repeated it again. "With all that said and all that done, I hope you got to see Robbie, Jesse, Taeyoung, Z., and maybe even me."

Aaron T. gave his nose a tap. "You're cute."

"It's fun to say!" 

Jesse flashed Aaron Z. a brief smile, which only seemed to deepen the worry set in his bandmate's features. He really must've had a tell or something.

To his dismay, Taeyoung kept sparing tiny glances at them. The kid knew that Z. knew that something was up. Now pretending he wasn't on the verge of exploding from nervous energy would be even more of a challenge. 

"Jesse?" He startled when Aaron T. said his name.

"Hm?"

"You want a go?"

"I'm still recovering from..." Why was everyone staring at him? Was he supposed to do something? "whatever you just did."

He pouted. "You loved it."

Jesse blinked.

"C'mon," Aaron T. whined, "shake the house down. Start your stand-up career. Get in there and do something."

"I don't think I'd be doing anything entertaining in there."

"Why'd you want to come here anyway?" Taeyoung prodded with his words, sticking his nose into business it probably did belong in. 

"I've been working on something," he admitted, "and I'm not really happy with it yet."

"Oh!" Aaron T. straightened up. "You should've said something, I wouldn't have hogged the booth."

"No, no, it was funny."

He expected him to brighten, but instead, he could almost see the lightbulb flickering on above his head. 

Great. That just left-

Robaire chimed in, "You're acting strange."

Fantastic. 

"I didn't sleep very well, I'm just tired."

"Bull." Aaron T. crossed his arms. "What's going on?" 

"It's really-"

Taeyoung raised his hand. "Ask me! Ask me!"

Aaron Z. looked unimpressed. "What's going on, Tae?"

"He was on the kitchen floor this morning."

"Oh."

"Why were you on the kitchen floor, Jesse 4*Town?" Robaire spoke with humour, but none of it was present in the tension on his face. 

"Because I slept like shit, and I felt like shit? Really, it's fine."

There were other things he could have said, other hints, invitations he could let slip. He could tell them that he didn't want to talk about it, or try to look overly happy so they could tell something was really up, but while that itch danced across his skin he couldn't do anything to let them in.

It was his energy. Telling them about it and accepting help would only lessen the amount of work he had to do, and as much as he was already exhausted, he needed to pile as much as he could on his plate. On a level much finer than his awareness could reach, he knew he needed to be busy, to soothe his fired-up nervous system, to make something good of his limited time on this planet.

He had a song to work on. It was why he was there. As much as he loved breathing in the joy of his bandmates, that was for Jesse, not Jesse from 4*Town. 

And Jesse from 4*Town demanded his attention. 

"I dropped a plate." He turned up the dramatics, kicking his legs up onto Robaire and draping himself over Aaron Z.'s lap. "So I figured I'd drop myself too, you know, just to get even."

"How does 'I dropped a plate' become 'I need to go to the recording studio?'"

"It made a sound." He shrugged. 

Aaron Z. used his free hand to gently massage Jesse's scalp. "T.?"

"Yeah, love?"

"Don't call me that, I will leave." 

Aaron T. mimicked him, making a vaguely Z.-shaped hand puppet and having it mouth along. "I will leave."

"Is he lying?"

Jesse avoided eye contact with him. 

"Yeah, it's more than that."

For fucks sake.

"It's really nothi-"

Robaire cut in. "We're always here."

"I know!"

"Jesse-"

"I'm sorry for worrying you, it really is nothing."

He frowned. "It can be nothing. Whatever's going on doesn't have to be a big thing. You don't have to open up about it, it's just... You can tell us that there is something wrong, and leave it at that, and we'll leave it alone, but if you sit here and try to say there isn't anything wrong? That's-"

"Oh my god, let it go!" He snapped. Aaron T. flinched, and Jesse shut his eyes, taking a deep, calming breath. "Sorry, I'm sorry."

The air was taut.

Taeyoung tried, "Jesse-" 

He stood up, startling the four couch-sitters. "Let me get set up."

He turned his back to them, grabbing an acoustic guitar off the wall and slipping into the booth. It was already tuned, courtesy of Robaire and Aaron Z.'s dramatic rendition of Careless Whisper.

He pulled the stool up to the mic and put the headphones on. 

Robaire had migrated to the seat at the control panel. His voice came through the speakers. “Do you want us to record it?”

He shook his head. “Just messing around for now.”

He blinked, and leaned forward to talk into the booth again. “You sound good over the mic.”

The tiniest amount of tension evaporated, and he chuckled. 

Aaron T. scrambled over, nudging Robaire aside so he could speak. “You need to laugh like that at least once on every album, the 4*Townies would go nuts.”

“As if.” Jesse rolled his eyes. 

“I’m serious,” he insisted, “I got chills.”

Robaire nodded seriously. “It was a very good laugh.”

“Very fertile.”

Taeyoung keeled over, laughing so hard his face turned red.

“Fertile?” 

“Did I say that?” Aaron T. grew a cheeky smile.

Aaron Z. said something, and pulled him back to the couch. Aaron T. piled onto Taeyoung, laughing at least half as hard. 

“You guys are a headache.”

Robaire raised his hands in surrender, and went in to add, “You’re just as bad.”

“Oh really?”

“Mhm.”

He traced his fingers along the guitar strings, humming to himself. Robaire took the hint, and retreated back to the couch. 

The cool metal of the strings did nothing to quell the burn in his hands. A shudder ran through him.

He gave the guitar an experimental strum, and frowned. “Can someone grab me a capo?”

Taeyoung gave him a thumb’s up, grabbed the offending object, and popped his head in the booth. As soon as the door opened, a low rumble penetrated the soundproof walls.

“Here-”

Jesse only barely caught himself as the stool suddenly slipped out from under him. His arms flew up as he tried to steady himself, but his legs were shaking.

What the fuck? What the fuck? What was happening?

He made the briefest eye contact with Aaron Z. as the bandmate in question ducked beneath the couch. 

Holy shit, holy, was this an earthquake?

The mic fell into the glass, cracking it where they collided. 

Taeyoung clutched the doorframe, an arm over his head in a poor attempt to protect himself.

The cabinet swayed dangerously.

“Tae!” Robaire called. “Move!”

It tipped.

Jesse made a break for him.

His hand clamped around his wrist, and he tugged.

The cabinet crashed, cassette tapes flying as the world continued to shake. 

“Tae?” Jesse had both arms around him. 

He breathed, “Whoa.”

Jesse guided him down to the floor, using his body as a shield. “Cover your neck with your hands.”

“What?”

He took Taeyoung’s hands and put them behind his head. “Like this. You’re okay.”

“This is an earthquake?”

“It’s an earthquake,” he said with more confidence than he had. 

The mic stand shifted again, crashing into his back. Taeyoung flinched below him. 

“You’re okay,” he reassured, “It’ll be over soon.”

“Jess!” Someone, Robaire, called out. 

It was too late though. Something hit him.

One of his arm’s buckled, but the other was enough to keep him from crushing the boy beneath him. He tried to shake the weight off. 

“Tae?”

“Yeah?” 

“Crawl over to the wall, use your elbows, don’t take your hands away from your neck.”

“Wh-”

He fought to keep himself from slipping. What was so heavy? “Just do it.”

He did as he was told, inching his way to the wall.

Robaire called again, barely audible over the sound of the things falling in other rooms. “Are you two okay?”

“We’re fine!” 

“Are you sure?”

“Not much you could do if we weren’t.”

The shaking stopped.

As soon as Taeyoung was clear, Jesse let himself drop. 

“Holy shit.” Taeyoung breathed. “Jesse?”

“Keep still, it could start again.”

“Jesse, the roof-”

Oh. That’s what had him pinned. 

“I’m alright. We have to count to sixty, okay?”

“The roof, you’re under-”

“Tae.” Jesse reached forward. “Tae, it’s okay. Count with me, okay? We can’t do anything until we know it’s done, so we have to count.”

He swallowed. “Okay.”

“One.” He tried to sound as soothing as he could. “Two, three, four…”

Taeyoung joined in. “Five, six, seven, eight, nine…”

At twenty-four, the earth began its rampage again. 

The aftershock carried much less strength than the first round, but it was still enough to make the duo tense up. 

“You’re doing good,” Jesse said. 

Taeyoung laughed. “You sure? Cause everything about this feels wrong.”

“This is exactly what they teach kids to do here. We had drills in elementary school.”

“They do drills in Seoul sometimes, for first responders mostly.”

“In Seoul? What about Busan?”

He shook his head. “Not at my school.” 

“This must be pretty scary then.”

“Understatement.”

The shaking came to another standstill. Jesse breathed the tension out of his shoulders. “You ready to count again?”

“From one?”

“You got it.”

Taeyoung peeked up at him. “That’s annoying.”

He scoffed. “Tell that to the earth.”

“How many times is it gonna start shaking again?” 

“There’s no way to know. We just count.”

“And if we get to sixty and nothing happens?”

“We get the fuck out of here.”

“Right, okay, so, one, two, three…”

“...fifty-eight, fifty-nine, sixty.” They finished together.

For a moment, there was quiet.

“Are you guys okay?” Jesse called out.

“Everything’s good out here,” Aaron T. responded, “but uh…”

“What?”

“The cabinet is kinda… I don’t think you’re getting out anytime soon.”

Oh.

Taeyoung sat up, shuffling over to get the piece of the roof off Jesse’s back. “Oh! It’s not too heavy.”

He nodded. “I’m just at a bad angle, I think.”

“Hold on, let me-” The weight disappeared. “Okay! Move!”

Jesse scooted away, sitting with his back to the wall. With a huff, Taeyoung dropped the roof tile and sat back down next to him. 

Aaron Z. appeared in the window. “We could try to break you out?”

“Leave it to the professionals please.” Jesse's brows turned up. “You three should go.”

“We can’t.” Robaire joined him, pounding on the glass in slow motion. “The door is jammed.”

What a headache. 

“Now what?” He crossed his arms.

Aaron Z. shrugged. “We wait.”

“Can you call anyone?”

“I tried,” Robaire said, “lines are down.”

Taeyoung groaned. “That is so annoying.”

Jesse nodded his agreement. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

“Jeez, you two are sour.” Aaron T. propped himself on the soundboard. “It’s not that different from when they cut our power.”

Aaron Z. swatted at him. “Don’t bring that up.” 

“We just need to chat or something, no big deal.”

Maybe he was right. They were all okay, it was just a waiting game.

It would be easier if he didn’t still feel so damn itchy. Seriously, who survives an earthquake, and the first thing they want to do after is work? 

He really did have a problem.

“You know what?” Robaire pulled a chair over so he could sit. “We could make a pretty good song out of this. Shaking up my heart or something.”

“Stop that.” Taeyoung giggled. “You’re shaking up my heart, something, something, you make it stop and start.”

“Let’s get you a writing credit on the next album.” Aaron T. grinned. 

He continued, “When you walk in the room, it starts to shake. Baby, you’re my earthquake.”

Robaire grew a fond smile. “That’s the winner.” 

“We’ll do a whole album!”

“I don’t mean to impede on the fun.” Aaron Z. gave Jesse a pointed stare. “But I just want to make it clear that if any of you feel even the tiniest bit off, you need to tell me.”

Jesse tried to look relaxed. “This feels targeted.”

“The roof did fall on you,” Taeyoung pointed out.

“I feel fine.”

“You’ll let me know if that changes?”

Would he? “Of course.”

Aaron Z. looked sceptical, but didn’t push any further. 

“How bad do you reckon the earthquake was?” 

“Reckon?” Aaron T. gaped. “You wanna add a yeehaw next time? A giddy up? You mistake Cali for Nashville?”

“Hey, what if we did something cowboy themed for the next album?” Taeyoung suggested, “Right at home for you Jesse.”

He rolled his eyes. “I don't think you have much room to make fun of the way I talk.”

“I reckon y’all didn't take the chickens out the barnyard. Giddy up, let's get a move on!” Aaron T. used the world’s worst southern accent. It probably couldn't even be classified as southern, definitely not to a specific area.

“You know you just made no sense, right?”

He glanced at Robaire so briefly that Jesse almost missed it. “Sorry a-boot that, just caught a load of beaver over by the igloo. Had to haul it home by moose.”

“C’est quoi ce bordel?” Robaire mumbled, “You’ve been to Vancouver, you know Canada isn't like that.”

“Vancouver isn't real.”

… Yes it is?

“Okay Aaron, whatever you say.”

“You sure he didn't hit his head or something?” Jesse checked.

“Unfortunately not.”

“Shame.”

“Hey!” 

His earlier internal comment about headaches manifested into a real one. How convenient. 

“Seriously though.” Robaire refocused the conversation. “That wasn't a small earthquake.”

“How damaged are the cassettes?” Taeyoung, the poor kid, had gone back to looking like a nervous wreck. “Our demos are all on there.”

Aaron T. grimaced. “Some of them are toast, but some look okay.”

It would be a shame to lose their demos. Jesse always had it in the back of his mind that they might release a special album or something with those original versions of their songs. It was something the fans would enjoy.

Their old agency would have shot the idea down immediately. If it wasn't profitable to the average teenage girl, it wasn't going to happen, and an album curated to what existing fans wanted to hear wasn't the way to get new fans.

He hated thinking of the 4*Townies like that, like they were people to be enticed, to become trapped in the fear of missing out and race to be the “best fan.” He especially hated that they were being used for profit. It frustrated him to no end. Every 4*Townie he’d met was, at their core, someone with a life equally as complex as his, he didn't want to take advantage of them! 

It was a sure-fire way to make him think of his time at art school, specifically the professors he looked up to. There were some incredible artists there, people who cradled the emotions of the viewer and delicately reminded them that they are not alone. 

It was never about the money for Jesse.

Maybe throwing something on the wheel would get rid of that still present burn to be doing something. Back when ceramics was part of his curriculum, it would do the trick.

He hoped the earthquake didn't make a mess of his studio. That would suck.

It was kinda cold. He found himself staring at where the roof had given out, trying to decide whether there was a breeze or not. 

“Jesse?” Aaron Z. yanked him out of his thoughts.

“Hm?”

“You’re very spacey.”

Maybe he was. That wasn't uncommon after a horrible sleep. “Sorry.”

“No, no, you're good, just… making sure you're okay.”

“I'm okay.”

“You're a little pale,” Taeyoung fussed. 

“Seriously, I'm fine.”

He didn't appear to be convincing anyone. Why did nobody ever believe him when he said he was okay? What a headache.

Right. His head actually hurt. Maybe it was time to retire that figure of speech.

“Any changes?” Aaron Z. prompted.

“I don't know, my head hurts? It's just because I’m tired.”

“Did it hurt earlier?”

No. “I don't know, does it matter? The roof didn't hit my head.”

He didn’t respond. Guilt twisted in Jesse’s chest, thick enough to cause actual pain. Of course Aaron would be stressed, it’s not like he’d had the best experience with people close to him and health. He really should be more considerate.

“What should I be paying attention to?”

“Numbness, abdominal pain…”

Jesse blinked, and Aaron Z. was done talking, watching him expectantly.

Oh. That… that probably wasn’t good.

“Was having trouble focusing on that list? Cause…”

“Jesse.”

“I really did sleep like shit.”

…

Taeyoung raised a hand to his cheek. “You’re cold.”

“There’s a draft, isn’t there?”

“No?”

Oh.

…

“Show me your back.” Aaron Z. had none of his signature stoicism. 

“I don’t want to.”

Robaire and Aaron T. exchanged a glance that could only be described as frightened, but that was only barely visible. 

…

His vision swam, when did it start swimming?

…

“Jesse?” Taeyoung shook him lightly, sending specks of light dancing around the room. Each one hurt as he became aware of them. “Hey, are you listening?”

“What?” He had to fight to make his mouth move.

…

What was happening? Why was it happening so fast? Was it actually happening as quick as it felt, or was he losing time? How much had he lost?

…

He heard bits of sentences. 

“... internal bleeding.” That was Aaron Z.

And then Aaron T. “... be okay?”

Something crashed. He was lying on the floor. Taeyoung held him. 

“...nose is bleeding.”

“What?”

…

All at once, he became a passive observer. It wasn’t anything close to an out-of-body experience, he struggled to hold onto the little awareness he’d been left with, but he certainly wasn’t grounded in any way. 

He knew a lot of things. He knew Aaron Z. was giving instructions. He knew Taeyoung was following them. He knew Aaron T. had silently retreated, gripping himself so tightly Jesse worried his nails might break through his skin. 

He especially knew Robaire was trying to move the cabinet.

He didn’t know how he knew. He certainly didn’t have any memory of seeing it happen. He just knew. 

It happened so fast.

***

Turns out, his descent from perfectly aware to unconscious was a long and gruelling process for everybody except for Jesse. It was not fast at all.

He’d heard from his nurse that the boys reported the whole thing taking upwards of an hour. An hour.

That was a week ago though. He’d had plenty of time to process his injury, to recover from surgery, to find his footing back in his own brain in the comfort of his hospital room.

He wished he hadn’t done that last part.

Remember when he said that bad things happening sent him back to old habits? That fucking itch was worse than he’d felt in a long time. 

He’d been trying to fend it off, he really had. His nurse brought him some paper, and he’d made a fretboard to practice with, but that wasn’t anywhere close to good enough. He needed to hear what his song was sounding like, how the melody he’d been toying with would be impacted by the guitar chords, whether his lyrics complimented the sound, paper just wasn’t doing it.

He needed to get back to work, he had so much to do. The earthquake was a wake-up call, a sign that he needed to get off his ass and work on this song before another natural disaster came to take him out.

This song was important. 

It needed to be perfect.

He was going to be discharged in two days, but that wasn’t soon enough. The itch was stronger than any hunger or thirst. Satisfying it was more essential to him than breathing. 

He needed to leave.

He needed to leave right now.

He poked his head out the door to his room, taking a moment to note where everyone was. 

His room was close to the nurse’s station, where a surgeon and nurse he didn't recognize were chatting. Aside from them, the halls were eerily empty. One glance at the clock revealed it was a couple minutes after midnight. 

The surgeon left, taking off down the hall at a brisk pace as their pager sounded off. Jesse approached the nurse’s station.

“What can I do for you?” The nurse was clearly distracted, fumbling through a daunting pile of paperwork.

“I’m going home.”

He stopped. “When is your discharge date?” 

“The tenth.”

“That's not today.”

“I know.”

The nurse frowned, completely abandoning his task to give him his full attention. “Do your parents know you’re going home?”

“I'm twenty-two.”

“That wasn't what I asked.”

“No.” Why was this guy giving him a hard time? “I don't live with them though.”

“You got someone to pick you up?”

“I’m not asking for your permission, I just thought I should let someone know.”

The nurse gave him an unamused raise of the brows. “I'm not trying to stop you, kid. Just making sure you know what you're getting yourself into.”

He ran a hand through his hair. This was taking too long. 

“Leaving against medical advice puts you at increased risk for-”

“Save it, I've heard it before.”

“This a pastime of yours?” 

No, he just had a friend prone to injuries and spent too much time in a shitty company. “Just part of the industry.”

“Oh, an entertainer,” he said, “maybe I'll have heard of you by the next time you come in.”

Rude. 

“Bye.”

As he turned to walk away, the nurse laughed. “Goodbye bigshot.”

There was supposed to be more than that. There was much more paperwork last time. He couldn't find it in himself to be annoyed at the nurse though, not when they were both equally impatient. 

So what if it was negligence? It saved him time. 

Once he was in the lobby, he stopped to think for a moment. Where was he going? The recording studio, right? That meant getting a ride to the agency’s main building.

He could call Robaire. 

…But maybe calling a cab was the better idea. 

Calling Robaire would mean going back to their apartment. The members would fuss over him, keep him from working, maybe even try to get him to go back. He needed to do work. If he didn't, there was a strong possibility he might explode.

So when he fished his phone out of his purse (he was sure his dad would roll his eyes if he knew his son was carrying a purse), he dialled the number for a cab, and made a beeline for the pickup area. 

There were benches, but he didn't sit. 

His cab arrived after the longest seven minutes of his life.

The drive was mostly spent in silence. At one point, the driver tried to make small talk. 

“Nobody to bring you clothes?” He gave him a strange look. “Is that why you're still in the gown?”

Jesse just ignored him, watching the city pass by. 

He was surprised to see how much damage the earthquake had done. Even a week later, old buildings were still taped off. Half the streetlights were dim, or dark altogether. 

The most bizarre part was the contrast. By the time he got to the agency, he’d almost gotten used to seeing the burnt shell of a store next to the dusty, cracked rubble of a townhouse, and then turning the corner to see a row of newer builds that, thanks to their more stable base, looked untouched. 

It snapped him out of his trance long enough to give the cab driver a sizable tip. He had a feeling extra cash meant a lot to people right then. 

The agency was… well. 

The outside looked pretty okay. A few of the windows were cracked, but structurally? It was definitely still a building.

The door was taped off. When he tried to open it, he found it was locked.

Great. 

The sound of his phone ringing nearly sent his soul flying out of his body. He answered the call without thinking.

“Hello?”

“I'm going to give you ten seconds to tell me why you left the hospital.”

Ah. They must've called his emergency contacts. “I feel better.”

His sister sounded more entertained than anything. “Mom’s furious.”

“Tell her to call me herself next time.”

“She did one better,” his sister whispered, “called your home phone.”

He groaned. 

“You should thank me, you’ve got like, a minute to figure out what you’re gonna say.”

He shut his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Thanks.”

“Good luck, stay safe, love you.”

“Love you too.”

He loved his sister, he really did. He loved his mom too. He certainly loved her more when she didn't snitch on him. 

With his phone still in hand, he picked a new target, a smashed window on the second floor. Conveniently, there was already a ladder set up, one of the ones they stock around the building in case of a fire. 

He climbed each rung carefully. He wasn't trying to hurt himself, after all, just get to the studio, just get his hands on a guitar, sit in a place that was completely isolated so he could come back to the world being worth something.

It was never about money. It was never about fame. He was in the position to do something good, and if that meant leaving the hospital early to work on a song that one, just one person could relate to? 

His phone rang again. 

Using one hand to hold the ladder, he answered.

“Jesse.”

“Hi Ro.”

His voice was fiery “You left the hospital?”

Great. He was mad. “I'm okay.”

“Go back.”

He took a step up. “No.”

“No? Jesse, you had surgery.”

“I feel fine.”

“So go back and wait.”

“I'm not going back.”

“Where are you?”

“Somewhere.”

“Somewhere safe?”

He climbed another rung. “There’s no one here, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“It’s not.”

Jesse surrendered some of the tension from his shoulders. “I’m safe.”

He let out a frustrated sigh. “Just, come home.”

“Not yet.”

“Where could you possibly-” 

He took the phone away from his ear to pull himself in through the window. “Sorry, what was that?”

“Are you climbing?”

“No.”

“Yes, you are.

“Not anymore. I'm a little busy, I'll call you back later.”

“Don't-”

He hung up. It was cheeky, childish even, but the studio was on the second floor, so he only really had a little bit more to walk. 

His phone rang again. He ignored it. 

The hallways were clear for the most part. Somebody definitely came in to clear them out. 

He wasn't quite certain why the building was closed until he got to the entrance to the recording studio. The door was still blocked. Apparently, instead of clearing the pile of debris outside the door, the rescue team had opted to tear a hole through the wall. It had since been boarded up, but when he looked through the cracks, he found that even if he had a way in, there was no way anything productive was happening in that room. 

The guitar was long gone, impaled by the mic stand. The foam padding lay strewn about in the booth, but the roof tile was the main event, taking up a majority of the floor space in its almost apocalyptic glory.

Okay, maybe he understood a little bit of why the boys were so on him. He wasn't exactly the first to offer up information about his well-being. The roof falling on him might have been something to worry about. He certainly would worry if it fell on any of them.

The rest of the studio didn't fare any better, in fact, it was significantly worse. The cabinet was the most prominent feature. It hadn't moved, and still blocked the door between the booth and the rest of the studio. Cassette reels covered the entire floor. It would have been impossible to walk without crushing any. 

A shiver ran through him. That cabinet was definitely heavier than the roof tile. If it had hit Taeyoung…

He pushed away a wave of anxiety. It didn't hit him. They were all okay. 

… He wanted to go home.

But that wasn't happening, right? He had to get into the studio, he had to use the guitar, it was a need. 

He pulled at the boards. They didn't move.

The guitar was still very much smashed anyway. 

It was so frustrating that he could tear his hair out. He backed into the wall, sliding down it as a few, baffled laughs raked through his body. 

Of course. Of course he couldn't get in. What was he thinking?

What was he thinking? 

Seriously, what did he think was going to happen?

It was unbearable.

It was hysterical.

He couldn't stop laughing.

His phone rang again, and he laughed harder.

Of course the one day his disease was more than just an itch, more than something manageable, was also the one day he couldn't do anything about it. 

Why did he think any of this was a good idea anyway? For just a moment, he remembered why he called it a disease. This wasn't good for him. He had a problem.

It was a problem that he’d come here. It was a problem that he’d put work before his well-being. It was a problem that he didn't give himself the proper time to recover. 

It was a problem. He had a problem. 

He was imperfect. At his core, he was flawed. He was never going to live up to that God-forsaken itch, because the itch itself kept him from scratching it, and sitting, facing the remains of their recording studio, laughing harder than he’d laughed in years, he finally understood that. 

It was the rawest pain he’d ever felt.

His phone rang again. He ignored it. 

He couldn't breathe. Each laugh tore the oxygen from the deepest parts of his lungs.

His phone rang again. 

And it rang. 

And he picked it up.

“Jesse?” It was Taeyoung this time. “Where are you?” 

He held a hand over the mic to try and muffle his laughter.

“Are you okay? Jesse?”

“I'm, yeah.” 

“Where are you?”

No point in hiding it now. “The agency.”

Taeyoung suddenly sounded further away. “He’s at the agency.”

“Who’s with you?”

“T.”

He took a deep breath. “Hi, Aaron.”

“Jesse says hi.”

Very distantly, he heard. “Put him on speaker.”

“You’re on speaker now.”

“Hi Aaron,” Jesse repeated.

“Hi, Jesse.” Aaron T. responded with the tiniest hint of playfulness. “I'm gonna slap you for giving Robaire a reason to wake me up at twelve-thirty.”

He managed to get the laughter down to a chuckle. “Don't pretend you weren't still up.”

“I wasn't,” Taeyoung complained, “whatcha doing at the agency anyway?” 

He took a moment to formulate a response. “No comment.”

“He's worse than you.” Taeyoung groaned. “Wah wah, I'm Jesse, and I left the hospital early to go take care of unfinished business at the agency.” 

“Nobody is worse than Aaron.” Jesse crossed his arms. “He would've just left without telling anyone.”

“I'm right here. Hey fucker, signal when you change lanes next time!”

“You left without telling anyone.”

“I told a nurse.”

“A nurse? Not your nurse?”

“If you keep asking questions, I'll hang up and go somewhere else.”

Aaron T. gasped. “How’d you know we were on the way?”

“Because you’re swearing at other cars. They let you two go alone together?”

“You have Robaire so stressed he forgot to tell us not to.” 

Maybe he shouldn't have been so vague with Robaire. 

“I'm sorry-” he started. 

“It's just good to hear from you.”

“Yeah,” Taeyoung added, “I mean, we’ve all done this Jess, the breakdown thing, we’ve all gone and done stupid things and worried each other. The apology is nice, but I forgave you as soon as you picked up.”

“I second that,” Aaron T. said, “It would be very hypocritical for me to be mad anyway, I nearly fucked up an entire performance because of an injury.”

Taeyoung teased. “Didn’t you also freak him out that one time? On our first tour?”

Ah yes. The hitchhiking.

“Don't get me started on that, oh my fucking God it’s not your fucking right of way!”

“Jesse?” 

In all honesty, he was still processing what was just said to him. Everybody in the group had done this, sure, but it felt completely different when it was him. 

Taeyoung tried again. “You still there?”

“Yeah…” He trailed off. 

“We’re like, two blocks away, hang tight.”

“Hanging tight.”

“Are you inside?”

“I'm by the studio.”

“Oh.”

Yeah, that was about the reaction he was expecting. 

“Did you climb through the window?” Aaron T. asked. Jesse could practically see the surprise on his bandmate’s face. 

“Do you see another way in?”

“No?”

“I'll see you soon.”

“Wait-”

He put the phone down. What could he say? He had a flair for the dramatic after all. Really, it was just because he needed time to decide how honest he was going to be.

More laughter started to bubble. He’d much rather cry than laugh. At least when he was crying, his reaction was normal. The laughing was just weird.

He laughed anyway. He kept laughing as Taeyoung and Aaron T. appeared at the end of the hall.

“The wall come alive and tell a joke?” Aaron T. jogged over to sit in front of him, Taeyoung close behind. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s not,” he said as soon as he found the spare air, “it’s not funny.”

“Breathe,” Taeyoung soothed, “slow down, tell us what’s happening.”

“The guitar is smashed.” 

“Huh?”

“I came all this way, and the guitar is smashed.”

They exchanged a glance.

Aaron T. wrapped his cardigan around Jesse’s shoulders. “I’m not following.” 

“I’m just.” He focused on breathing. Then, with a smile, he said, “It’s nothing.”

Taeyoung’s expression grew firm. “I love you Jess, but you can’t seriously think we’re gonna believe you’re okay, right? Look at you.”

He was a mess, he knew that.

But he could pretend he wasn’t. He could live in that fantasy for just a little longer, right?

Everyone knew it was a lie, but that was a problem for later.

“I’m okay,” he insisted, “I left because I’m okay.”

“You haven’t been okay though, not since the plate.”

He scoffed, “No shit, there was an earthquake.”

Aaron T. huffed. “Don’t act like you don’t know what we’re talking about.”

“I…”

Who was he kidding? 

“Do you think things would be better if I wasn’t in the band?”

The question caught both Taeyoung and Aaron T. off guard, hell, it caught Jesse off guard too. 

Aaron T. answered fast, “No.”

“We’re not 4*Town without you.” Taeyoung agreed. 

“There’s something wrong with me, I can’t, there’s, it doesn’t go away, it, I don’t know, I can’t make it go away, and then I do this instead, and it’s not productive.”

“Hey, hey.” Taeyoung cupped his cheek. He leaned into it. “This isn’t about productive, okay? It never has been. You being in the band isn’t about what you can produce, it’s so much more than that.”

That wasn’t entirely true. He was a product. He always had been.

He was a product of his parents, a reflection of them that they worked so hard to curate. He was a product of their agency, and even though they pretended he wasn’t an object to toy with, everybody involved knew he was. 

His value came from the things he was able to do. 

He couldn’t say that though, because he knew it wasn’t a healthy thought pattern. The last thing he wanted to do was make the people closest to him feel even half as miserable as he felt right then.

“I’m sorry.”

Neither Aaron T. nor Taeyoung were happy with that.

“Can we go home? I think… I think I need to be away from here.”

“Of course.” Taeyoung helped him up. “Anything you need, we’re at your service.”

Aaron T. saluted. “To the car, Jesse sir!”

“Don’t call me sir.” They made their way down the hall.

“What would you prefer, sweetheart? Babygirl? Apple of my eye?”

He rolled his eyes. “None of those.”

“Go easy on him, he has a crush on you, remember?”

“Oh yes.” Aaron T. nodded. “I’m going to be very sad if you shut down my pet names.”

He was trying to fluster him, an adorable effort. “If this is you trying to make the first move, you’re gonna have to try harder than that.”

“I’d like to see you do better.”

“Oh really?” Jesse raised a brow. “Wasn’t it you who wrote a whole verse about how irresistible I am?”

He flushed. “I didn’t write that! It just happened.”

“You’re pretty when you blush.”

Aaron T. tripped over his feet. “What?”

“I think he just short-circuited.” Taeyoung giggled.

Jesse used the small triumph to ignore his problems. “Told you.”

“That's the real reason you’re in the band, to call me pretty.”

“Sure thing, lover boy.”

Taeyoung grew one of his signature devious smiles, and leaned closer to Aaron T. “You’ve always been beautiful, Aaron.”

“Whoa, okay, let's calm down.” 

Jesse fought back a smile as they climbed back down the ladder. 

“Uh, hey Tae, do you see the car?”

Taeyoung halted, and looked over his shoulder. “No, did we get rear-ended or something?”

“It's gone.”

Jesse couldn't decide if this was funny or not. “Did you park in a tow zone?” 

“Maybe..?”

The trio dismounted the ladder. 

“Did we even park?” Taeyoung ran a hand through his hair. “I genuinely can't remember parking.”

Aaron T. patted his pockets. “Ah.”

“What?”

“I, ha ha.”

Jesse blinked slowly. “Aaron.”

“I don't have the keys. I think I might have left them in the car.”

Which meant the car never got locked.

Which meant someone had definitely stolen it.

“Don't look at me like that!” He raised his hands. “I was worried about you!”

“Worry about yourself, you’re calling Ro.”

“Don't make me.”

“You got our car stolen.”

Taeyoung nodded. “You got our car stolen.”

“Unfair! You can't gang up on me like that!”

“Good luck.”

“What if we just call our manager, have them come pick us up.”

Jesse crossed his arms. “You don't think Robaire and Z. are gonna notice that the car is missing?”

“They took the one we usually use, they might not.”

“They will.”

He whined. “Do I have to?”

Taeyoung gave him a supportive rub on the shoulder. “Put it on speaker.”

“You're my hero.”

“I'm not defending you, I just want to hear everything.”

“Hey! You didn't lock the car either.”

“I wasn't driving.”

“Fine, fine fine fine.” He pulled his phone out and sighed. “Here goes nothing.”

It rang twice before Robaire picked up.

“Is he okay? Where are you?”

“Wow.” Aaron T. put a hand on his hip. “No hi? No hello for the man who just rescued Jesse 4*Town?”

“Rescued?”

“There was no rescuing.” Jesse corrected. “Hi Ro.”

He already sounded less tense. “Thank God.”

“Sorry for… that.”

“We’ll talk about it later, are you okay?”

“I'm fine.”

“You said that last time.”

Yikes. “I have witnesses.”

“He’s safe,” Taeyoung said, “fine is another story, but he’s not like, bleeding out or anything.”

“Okay, okay. We’ll see you at home then?”

Jesse joined Taeyoung in giving Aaron T. a pointed stare. 

“Actually, funny story.”

“What now?”

“We don't have a car.”

“...”

The silence was suffocating.

“What?”

“Ha ha?”

“What happened to the car, Aaron?” Aaron Z. must've taken the phone. 

“We think someone stole it.”

“How’d you manage that?”

“Take a guess.”

“We’ll come get you. Where are you?”

“The agency.”

“...”

Jesse was starting to really dislike silences. 

“Do I wanna know?”

“Yeah, you probably do,” Taeyoung said, “Hi Z., I miss you.”

“Hi Tae. We’ll be there in five.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” Jesse said. 

***

“You left the keys in the car?”

“Look.” Aaron T. avoided eye contact with the intimidating front seat duo by staring out the window. “...yeah I got nothing.”

Robaire made brief eye contact with Jesse through the rearview mirror. “It seriously baffles me that the three of you make such bad decisions. I can't decide who the dumbest is.” 

Aaron Z. didn't miss a beat. “It's Jesse.”

“No, yeah, it's Jesse.”

He sank further into the seat. “I'm sorry.”

“Tell me again why you left against medical advice?”

“Old habits die hard?”

Aaron T.’s eyes flicked over to him. 

“You chose to leave this time, that’s different,” Robaire said. 

“Don’t be too hard on him,” Aaron T. vouched.

He loosened a little. “I'm not trying to be hard, I'm not mad.”

From the way everyone was insisting they weren’t angry, he was starting to think maybe they should be.

“Can we go back to T. losing the car?” Taeyoung raised his hand. 

“You lost it too.”

“I wasn’t driving!”

“You were in the car.”

“I was distracted.”

“So was I!”

He let the bickering fade behind the whir of his own thoughts. As the city passed, he found himself trying to gauge where each member was at. To an outsider, the car would appear to hold three grumpy boy band members, and two that had a little too much energy, but he knew them better than that. 

Taeyoung was putting on the most convincing act, but behind the smiles and the giggling were the worried glances. Aaron T. was similar, but from the clasp of his hands to how straight he was sitting up, it was clear this whole situation was making him anxious. The stolen car probably only added to that.

Aaron Z. was the hardest to read. He carried himself with patience, turning every once and a while to signal to the T Line to keep it down, but that was almost too normal. 

Maybe he was overthinking it. He was probably overthinking it.

That left Robaire, who he also struggled to read. It wasn't until he got out of the car, put an arm around Jesse’s waist, and walked inside with him, that Jesse clued in.

Robaire had guessed.

He knew.

***

To place credit where it was due, Robaire didn't bring up the leaving early thing, nor the reason why he’d left the hospital early for the first couple of days after. 

Did it make him a little bit paranoid? Maybe, but there was better news! That stupid itch, the driving factor of this whole fiasco, had abandoned him until the next time he inevitably was mildly inconvenienced.

His actual discharge date passed, and with no complications, he found himself with a little bit too much free time. Earthquakes do that to a city. Everything was on pause while things got up and running again.

Apparently, he made the news. The public affairs team let him know that the fans were very worried about him, and sent him kind wishes, at least according to the massive influx of fan mail. The letters currently stood piled on their dining room table, all pre-read to make sure nothing disturbing got through. 

Things simmered down with the other members too. Since he was genuinely, actually feeling better, they stopped fussing. 

Well, okay. He was still technically recovering physically, so there was some fussing, but there were no more questions about why he’d been acting off. 

Somehow, he’d managed to have one of the worst days of his life, and come out of it perfectly fine. He hadn't even had to talk about it.

It was a little too good to be true.

He was never going to complain about things turning out better than expected though. Like most days off, he had ample time to sit behind a wheel, throw some clay, and let his fingers do the thinking.

His pottery studio was far enough from the epicentre of the earthquake to appear untouched, thank God. He couldn't imagine how much damage would have been caused if something had shattered the windows. He loved his studio. Stepping in, smelling the clean air, admiring how the sunlight hit the wheel, it was all a part of the magic.

The theme of the day was apparently bowls, because Jesse had already made three of them, only pausing to wedge more clay. 

He didn't look up when he heard the door open and shut.

“Hey.”

“You've been busy.” It was Robaire, to nobody's surprise.

“Want a bowl?”

He took a seat, just barely visible out of the corner of Jesse’s eye. “I've been thinking we need a new set.”

Jesse chuckled. “I wasn't actually gonna fire these up, but if you can think of anyone who needs one, I’ll happily get 'em some glaze.”

“Yeah? I’ll ask around.”

“I was thinking about making dishes to donate, since, y’know, earthquake, but I kinda just want to create.”

“You deserve time off to fuck around.” Robaire nodded. “It’s good to hear you're taking it.”

Satisfied with how incorporated his clay was, he made his way back over to the wheel. “You wanna throw something?”

“No thanks.” He smiled lopsidedly. “Clean hands.”

Jesse hummed. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

They sat in an easy silence together for a while. He started the next bowl, taking extra care to make sure his clay was completely centred before pulling the walls.

“You ever think about leaving to do art?” Robaire asked suddenly.

“You ever think about going solo?”

“Touché, guess not.”

“Mhm.” He dipped a hand in his trusty water bucket, and used the extra moisture to help shape the inside of the bowl. 

“Why’d you go to the agency?”

Ah yes. There was the Robaire he knew and loved.

“To work on a song.”

“After the earthquake?”

“Yup.”

Robaire pulled his stool closer. “That's…”

“Trust me, I know.” He pulled the edges higher, using one hand inside and bowl and the other on the out to maintain an even thickness. “I'm not proud of it.”

“I'm not gonna lie, I thought all of that was left at the old agency.”

“I was born with it.” He would’ve shrugged if he wasn't focused. “S’always gonna come back.”

Robaire went quiet for a moment. Jesse worked on the rim. 

“When it does come back, how can I help?”

That was… a good, surprising? A surprising question. “Uh…”

“You don't have to answer right now, just, you could have gotten really hurt, and nobody wants that.”

“No, I just, I’ve never really thought about that before.”

“Getting help?”

“How to help.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Most of the time, I can talk myself through it,” he admitted, “but this was one of the worst episodes I’ve ever had. When it's really bad, I get stubborn as fuck.”

“No kidding.” Robaire watched as Jesse went back in to adjust the shape. “That was what had everyone scared, you completely shut down.”

He nodded. “Still sorry by the way.”

“What exactly is it, if you don't mind sharing?”

Oh. Right. “Sometimes, I get stuck in this feeling, like, of needing to stop wasting time, get something done and do it well, y’know? But no amount of work makes it go away, it just… passes on its own.”

“Which is why you left the hospital early.”

“Exactly.”

“Wow.”

Jesse took his eyes off his project for a moment. “Usually it’s not that intense.”

“What about at the old agency? When you were sneaking out?” 

“It never went away,” he said, “I didn't want it to. It made me good.”

“It made you sick.”

A smile played at the corner of his lips. “I know that now.”

There was another break. Another easy silence. 

“Since you were a kid, huh?”

“Since I was a kid.”

“Is that why you took up ceramics?”

“Kinda.” He leaned back to get a better look at the shape. “I liked that there was no expectation. Pottery is so personal that way, you know? It’s crafted with the earth and your hands. Every piece I’ve seen that stuck with me has so much personality, and that’s celebrated. It doesn't matter if this bowl doesn't look exactly like the others I make, it doesn't matter if it’s flawed, because that’s part of the beauty.”

It was something he wanted to believe about himself too. He was working on it. Feeling that way about the bowl in his hands was only the first step.

Robaire just watched as he scooped some water onto the wheel, and used his wire to separate the bowl from the metal. Jesse placed it carefully on a wooden board, placed it aside, and grabbed another piece of freshly wedged clay. 

“I'll try to let you know next time,” Jesse decided, “Just in case. It always starts manageable.”

“I’d…” He paused. “Thanks.”

He raised a brow. “I should be thanking you.”

With a goofy grin, he said, “I'm all ears.”

“I don't want to anymore.” He rolled his eyes.

“You can thank me by not hanging up after I get a call that you left the hospital without telling anyone.”

“The hospital staff knew I left.”

“Please call me next time, or better yet, don't leave.”

“If I called you, you would’ve made me come home.”

He tilted his head a little. “Yeah?”

“I didn't leave the hospital because I wanted to go home. I left because I needed to work.”

“Oh.” It finally clicked for Robaire. “Wow.”

“But I'll try, I really will.”

“For the record, I'd much rather go with you when you make bad decisions than know absolutely nothing about where you are.”

“You’d do that?”

“Of course.”

“Hm.” The idea of having Robaire, or any of the boys with him at the agency made the memory of his… escapade a little less difficult to look back on. 

Taeyoung and Aaron T. showing up did take him out of the worst of it. 

“I think… I think I'll take you up on that. You might have to remind me why it’s a good idea though.”

He smiled. “Whatever you need.”

Jesse found himself smiling too. “You’re a good friend.”

He chuckled. “If only you knew how easy it is to care about you.”

He almost faltered. He had steady enough hands not to, but it was close.

“No sappy shit when I'm making bowls, you almost messed it up.”

“I almost messed it up?” Uh oh. “My hands are all the way over here.”

“You know.” 

Robaire dismounted the stool to stand behind him, resting his chin on the top of Jesse’s head. “I know.”

“You sure you don't want to give it a shot? I haven't really started this one yet.”

“What was all that up and down for then?”

“Centering the clay.”

He hesitated. “Okay.”

Jesse brightened. “Really?”

“But I have no clue what I'm doing so you’re really gonna have to help.”

“Of course.” He stepped away from the wheel, and let Robaire take his spot. “You’re gonna want a bit of water on your hands.”

They stayed at the studio until the natural light stopped hitting the pottery wheel. Evidently, Robaire’s bowl was the only one he planned to fire, in all its wonky, uneven, and charming glory. They joked about making it their dining table’s new centrepiece once Jesse made it through the fan mail. 

Part of him wondered if he would've been so receptive to Robaire’s questions and suggestions if he hadn't been in his pottery studio. It didn't really matter though, did it? They’d made headway, and they’d made it together.

It was almost overwhelming, having to lean on something that wasn't himself, but it was also connective. Whether he liked it or not, Jesse could no longer ignore that he needed his bandmates. They made him whole. They made him the best version of himself.

As scary as that was, he trusted that they weren't going anywhere. No matter how bad the day, nor how far the fall, he would always have them. 

As a kid, Aaron T. always felt a particular connection to the Polar Express. 

One year, in school, his teacher read it out loud the last day before winter break. He hated winter break back then. Even though it wasn't quite like being trapped at home with his parents, they still had work after all, it was still lonely. The snow meant he couldn't go anywhere. He didn't have warm enough clothes to be outside for that long.

He knew all of that was ahead. The cold, the alone, and the decoration-less home waiting to confine him for two weeks. 

His family celebrated Christmas. He knew some families didn't, but also knew those families still spent time together. His family did that too, he just wasn't a part of it. 

They were his family. He was not theirs. 

On that day, he sat on the storytime carpet in his second grade classroom, staring up at the book in his teacher's hands as she read it page by page, telling the story of a kid who got whisked away on a train to celebrate Christmas with other kids like him.

When he got back from the break, he snuck a copy out of the school library, and took it home. He would've signed it out, but he wanted to keep it, and for that to happen it couldn't be under his name. He'd made that mistake before. 

To him, the Polar Express was a lifeline. That book meant everything to him. It meant there was a chance he could have a winter break where he got taken on a magical train ride, to a place where he didn't have to care about school, or the snow, or the family he failed to be a part of.

***

The first December after 4*Town debuted, they had no time off. They were under their old management at the time, which meant work, work, work.

Aaron T. didn't even know the 25th had passed until the New Year.

***

For their second December as a band, they were dealing with lawsuits, public backlash, and threats from their old agency post a disastrous press conference. On Christmas Eve, they were signing papers to transfer to a new management team. 

There was no time for celebration. They had too much work to do. 

Aaron T. did have his first hot chocolate that year though. Robaire had decided it was blasphemous that he'd never had one. 

"Here," he'd said, handing him a mug and a plate with two cookies, "careful, it's hot."

He was curled under some blankets, sitting in front of their hotel TV. The channel was set to one of those videos of a fire being tended to. 

"Hot's in the name, I'd expect that much." He took a sip, only to get violently attacked by the hot liquid. "Ah! Ow!"

Instead of teasing, Robaire took a seat next to him. "Try dipping the cookies in until it cools a little."

He did as he was told. "Mm!"

"Right?" He smiled. 

"That's good!"

There was no "I can't believe you've never tried it" or "look at what you've missed out on," and that was one of the things he loved about Robaire. Aaron T. was never treated as though he was missing something, nor was it ever a big deal when he hadn't had an experience others would consider core memories. 

***

On his third December as a member of 4*Town, the group was granted Christmas Eve to New Year's day off for vacation. 

They'd debated setting up a tree. Aaron Z. lived nearby, and his family had a fake one unused in their garage (they'd bought a real one that year, so his family didn't need it). For the most part, they were all exhausted, and nobody wanted to go through the effort of putting up and decorating a tree, but privately, Aaron T. was a little disappointed.

It wasn't even gonna be a Christmas tree. They didn't all celebrate Christmas. 

Then, they reached an ultimatum. There wasn't time to go get the tree and set it up, and go gift shopping. It was either a gift exchange, or a tree. 

Nobody had any strong feelings either way. Nobody but Aaron T., at least. 

When nobody took the initiative to make a decision, he spoke up. "I'd rather set up a tree with you all and like, make some cards or something. Make some memories, you know?"

They gave each other things all the time, and the gift thing felt very Christmas. They didn't all celebrate Christmas, he didn't want this to be Christmas. 

But a tree? That was non-offensive. Aside from Jesse, he was pretty sure the members would keep a whole tree in their apartment regardless of the time of year, this was just an excuse to bring something green and vaguely alive-looking in. 

"Cool." Aaron Z. grabbed his keys. "Let's get that tree."

When they got back, the other three members were waltzing around each other in the kitchen. Robaire was putting groceries away, and there were a lot of groceries. 

Jesse had taken to baking... something. It certainly was something! 

Despite the questionable contents of the mixing bowl in his hands, he looked pretty at ease. There was a handprint of flour on his face, and his apron had even more of the offending powder. 

Taeyoung pulled a tray of cookies out of the oven, the smell wafting into the rest of the apartment. He put them down on the stovetop, leaned around Jesse, and stuck his fingers in the bowl. 

"Hey!" 

"I washed my hands," he said quickly, scurrying back, "let me taste!"

"You can taste when it's done."

Aaron Z. turned right back around, and started for the door. 

"Ah, ah, ah!" Aaron T. stopped him. "Hold on mister." 

"Oh!" Robaire waved past the bag of sugar he was carrying. "Hi!"

"You buy the whole grocery store?"

"We were low on everything."

Aaron Z. chuckled. "I see."

"Where's the tree?" Jesse fended off Taeyoung as he tried to stick his fingers in the bowl again.

"In the hall." 

"Cool! Why is it out there?"

Aaron T. shrugged. 

"Oh, okay."

"I was gonna go get it." Aaron Z. crossed his arms.

"Sorry for interrupting you, kind sir." 

“You wanted this tree, you better come help.”

Jesse watched them fondly. “Let me put the filling in the pie, and I'll help.”

Oh! Oh, it was pie! No wonder it was chunky! Crisis averted.

Taeyoung tried for a third time to get into the pie filling, and Jesse sighed, handing him the filling-coated spatula. He cheered, and propped himself on the only free counter space to taste his reward.

After the tree was dragged unceremoniously through their apartment, it came time to set it up. In all honesty, Aaron T. was much more giddy than he should have been, but he couldn’t help it. It was the time of year he usually felt the lowest, the time of year he usually spent alone, the time of year that was as bland and lifeless as the dry winter bushes he’d pass on the way to and from his elementary school, but this year? The apartment smelled of melted chocolate and baked goods and there was a tree in their goddamn living room! 

More importantly though, they were all standing around it, trying to figure out how the three pieces came together and where the lights were supposed to plug into each other. That was the best part. Plastic branches prodded every which way, hell, somebody complained about them nearly taking an eye out every couple of minutes, but once it was set up? 

Aaron T. took a few steps back, and took it in. 

“Well.” Jesse tilted his head, as though trying to see it from a different angle. “It sure is a tree.”

“A December 24th tree.” Robaire nodded.

Taeyoung glanced over at Aaron T. “What do you think?”

“How do we turn the lights on?”

Between the five of them, nobody had decorations to put on the tree, so when the lights were off, it looked like a completely ordinary, vaguely evergreen tree.

Robaire shuffled around, searching the couch. “I put the remote somewhere…” 

“I’ve got it.” Jesse held it up. “Does somebody want to hit the lights?”

Aaron Z. hit the switch. 

“Everyone ready?”

Only after a chorus of agreement, did the room light up again.

The lights, tiny and interspersed between the fake pine needles, gave off a warm light. It was almost orange, like the flicker of a campfire. Each individual light took turns catching his eyes, twinkling and shifting without actually moving. The tree was a completely different colour, the plastic sheen replaced by a warm, deep green. 

Everything was warm. From somewhere inside him, Aaron T. felt a part of himself thaw, something that he didn’t even know was frozen.

“Wow.” It slipped from his mouth involuntarily.

“Yeah.” Taeyoung was awestruck. “Wow.”

Aaron T. hugged Robaire from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder. He leaned into it, sighing a small, content sigh. 

“Better?” The light reflected in Jesse’s eyes, sparkling like dew at sunrise. 

“It’s…” It took his breath away. “Yeah. It’s beautiful.”

They were beautiful. All of them were. The moment was one of the most beautiful things he could ever hope to experience. 

His head was pounding. 

Aaron T. blinked his eyes open. He was in a hotel room, not his, but clearly part of the same hotel he was staying in. The amenities looked the same, but the layout was different. 

He was in the back corner, facing the door. From where he was, he couldn't see a bed. Was he in a suite of some kind? Maybe a private lounge?

The kitchen was to his left. It was small, the backsplash a crude shade of green that dated the room by at least twenty years. There was no dining space aside from two barstools at the island counter. Somebody's purse rested, knocked over, on the stool closest to him. 

The exit door was situated between the tiny kitchen and a couch. The more comfortable seating faced away from the kitchen, and toward a silent TV standing in solitude on the TV stand. Between the couch and the TV was a barely visible wooden coffee table.

Beside him was another door, most likely leading to the bedroom part of the suite. If this was a suite of course.

The ceiling fan was noisy, pattering along at the same pace as the fading drum of his headache. He tried to reach a hand to the back of his head, only to find that his wrists were tied to the arms of a chair. 

Okay. This was not normal.

Upon further inspection, he discovered that not only were his arms restrained, but his legs were as well.

He chuckled inwardly. Arms tied to the arms of a chair, and legs tied to the legs. Funny. 

He recognized the chair as matching the one at the desk in his hotel room, despite the fact there was no desk to be found in this room.

"What the..?" He mumbled, unsure what to think. His brain felt waterlogged, like a sponge someone had forgotten to wring out. 

A head of brown, shoulder-length hair popped up over the couch. She had glasses that made her eyes look huge, almost doe-like. 

"Oh! You're awake!"

"Where..?"

She climbed over the back of the couch and used one of the barstools to climb onto the counter and sit cross-legged. 

There was nothing threatening about her. Frankly, she kinda just looked nervous.

Tentatively, she said, "I'm sorry."

He blinked slowly. 

…

What?

"How's your head?" 

How was his head? Groggy. Pain. Slow. Was he on something? 

"What happened?" He sounded tired, like he'd woken up from a nap before he was ready to. 

She hesitated. "Please don't think I'm crazy."

His lips drew into a flat line. 

"I'm a big fan."

…

"I saw you in the hall."

…

She said the rest quickly, "And I freaked out and accidentally knocked you out, and I didn't want to leave you in case something happened, so I took you here."

Oh. That... wasn't so bad?

"Thanks? I think?"

She blew out a breath. "I really didn't mean to, it kinda just... happened."

"It's okay." He nodded slowly. Wow, he was fuzzy. "Thanks for the help. Mind uh... untying me?"

A brief look of concern sprouted on her face. "I don't think that's a good idea, you're still so out of it."

"I'm okay." Yeah Aaron, maybe start acting like it.

"No, you're not."

"It's okay, Z. will know what to do." Wait, shit. "How long was I out?"

"Oh, uh, twenty minutes maybe?"

Twenty minutes... was that a long time? Why did he leave his hotel room? 

"I should head back," he insisted, "I don't want to worry the guys."

She grew tense. "Worry them? Like, would they call the police?"

He raised a confused brow. "No? Not right away, but I don't want them thinking I wandered off somewhere."

"They can't call the police, I can't-"

"They won't," he interrupted, "the most they'll do is inform our security team, and-" 

"They can't do that either-"

"-once this gets sorted you'll be fine. You said it was a mistake, and I believe you. I'll vouch for you."

The poor girl looked like she was on the verge of tears. "You'd do that for me?"

"Trust me, I don't want this to turn into a big thing any more than you do."

The lock on the door clicked open, and two girls, each adorned with a shopping bag, filed into the room. 

The first girl was tall, her hair tied up in a sleek black ponytail. Her entire demeanour was dripping with young money, from the silver watch on her wrist to the sunglasses hanging from the collar of her bodycon v-line dress. 

The other girl was fashionable in a way that was much more similar to how Aaron T. dressed. She wore baggy, low-waisted jeans with a tight-fitted cropped polo shirt. 

Jeans girl was the first of the two to notice him. She stopped short, brows furrowing and mouth falling open slightly. 

He would've waved, but you know, hands tied. 

Ponytail walked right past him, groaning dramatically as she dropped her things on the island counter. 

"Kayla, you would not believe how busy the road was. It was unbelievable, there were so many people leaving the concert."

Glasses girl exchanged a glance with Jeans. "Uh?"

"I don't care how sick you feel next time, I am not buying you merch if you aren't gonna stand in line with me."

"Look-"

"No, because-"

"Hi?" Aaron T. made his presence known.

She glanced at him briefly, then did a double take. "Holy shit!" 

"Surprise?" Kayla laughed nervously. 

"Is he real? What did you do?"

He fought back a scoff. 

Jeans girl came closer, examining him. "You look different up close."

"Were merch lines really that bad?" He asked, "Cause I've been back at the hotel for at least an hour."

"Sing something," Jeans demanded. 

"...What?"

"So I know you're not a look alike."

"I'm gonna pass," he said, leaving small, hesitant pauses between each word. "I should be getting back."

"Why?"

Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it, don't say it, don't-

"I don't wanna worry the guys."

Shit.

Ponytail's face grew firm. She walked over to him and bent so she was at his level. Her eyes bore holes into his skin. 

"He's scared," she decided, "and that's dangerous."

He couldn't help but laugh. "This isn't a spy movie."

"He said he wouldn't get us in trouble." Kayla took an uneasy step toward them. 

"Do you really believe that?" 

His heart sank. 

Ponytail continued, backing away so she could pace. "There's no way we can know. We can't take that chance."

"Isn't that a little dramatic?" Kayla protested. 

"You did this," she snapped, "and you're my friend, so I'm gonna help you clean this up."

Kayla almost lit up. 

He wasn't getting out of this easily, was he?

"So what do we do?" Jeans tapped her foot twice. "I don't want to kill him."

"Kill him? No, it's easier to kidnap a celebrity than to hide their body."

"But if he gets out, we're toast."

"Counter idea," Aaron chimed in, "you let me go, no charges, no police, no bodies. You don't get fined and I don't do paperwork."

"Don't listen to him. He'll say anything to get out of here."

"I don't want to kill him either," Kayla added.

"We're not killing him. Nobody wants to kill him."

Jeans joined the pacing. "But wouldn't it be smarter to?"

"I don't really care if it's smart, he's nice."

"Oh my god, you can't trust that. He has to be nice to you, you took him captive."

"Actually-" he said.

"We could get him across state lines, right? To Nevada maybe?"

"That's too close, we've got to go farther."

"Okay, seriously, this is escalating too much," he tried, "it doesn't need to be this complicated."

"Pipe down." Ponytail hissed. 

They continued on, bickering between themselves about how they were going to smuggle him out. 

He found out pretty quickly that he wasn't very well tied. If he flipped his right palm up, he could slip it out with little trouble. 

He watched them carefully, his heart beating so loudly he thought it might give him away. He just needed to get off the chair without them noticing. He could take the girls in a fight if he needed to, but he didn't think it would come to that. 

Slowly, he untied his other hand, going entirely off of feel because there was no way in hell he was taking his eyes off those girls. The silk scarf restraint dropped, hitting the ground with a tiny smack. 

He sat up straight again, putting his arms back into the position they'd been tied in. Jeans walked past him, her eye catching the scarf on the floor. She picked it up.

She glanced at the other two girls. 

Then at his untied arms. 

Then at him. 

He shook his head just a tiny bit, trying to keep his breathing as natural as possible. 

It still caught in his throat when she draped the scarf back over his arm, but she didn't move to tie it further than that. Her face didn't betray anything, not even as she made her way into the kitchen. 

"Hey, Aaron," Ponytail suddenly called out. "What are the chances someone is looking for you right now?"

"I don't know, but the longer I'm not in my room, the more likely it is."

"Exactly." She went back to her conversation. "So-"

Careful not to disturb the arm that still appeared to be tied, he bent slowly, fingers locking on the fabric that held his ankle in place. Holding his breath, he tugged at the knot. 

It came undone easily. One pull at the right angle and it fell apart. 

He sat back up. 

"There's no point in talking about where we're keeping him if we can't get out of the hotel. We need a cover story or something."

This was it. He bent again, fingers grazing the soft fabric, the only thing keeping him from booking it out of there. 

"Hey!"

He tugged, and he was free. He kicked the chair back and made a break for the door. 

The girls erupted into chaos, all trying to stop him in different ways. They weaved around the furniture. 

But he was faster. 

His hand landed on the doorknob.

Fingers slithered into his hair, gripping it firmly and yanking him back. 

The doorknob slipped out of his reach.

Ponytail girl turned him around, keeping her grip on him tight. "What was that?"

He kept his mouth shut.

She tugged, and his eyes screwed shut, air involuntarily slipping through gritted teeth. 

"Does that hurt?"

"This, this isn't gonna fly." God, he sounded like an entitled kid. "If you don't let me go, I will keep trying to get out."

She pulled harder, forcing his head back. "Oh yeah?"

"But if you let me go now, nobody else has to know."

"Hannah-"

Ponytail silenced Kayla with a foul glare. "This is reasonable."

"I never said-"

She shoved him into the back of the couch. He tried to use the leverage to kick her back, but she caught one of his feet, hoisting it up and sending him sprawling onto the hard cushions. 

He reoriented himself quickly, scooting around the coffee table and making another break for the door. 

He didn't even make it close. 

Hannah kicked the back of his knees. 

Hard.

He fell. 

He caught himself with his arms, but his relief was only momentary. Kayla stood above him. 

"What now?" She asked.

"Make sure he doesn't scream."

One of his legs was pulled out from under him. Kayla got on her knees. 

She put one hand behind his head. 

The other hand covered his mouth. 

Crack.

It was a hollow sound. 

He couldn't hear himself scream, but he was certain he did. The pain in his ankle was searing, so all-consuming that it blotted out his vision. He couldn't pass out though. He didn't want to think about what could happen if he did. 

So he pulled every ounce of stubbornness he had, maybe even borrowing some from Jesse, and held onto any little bits of his consciousness he could. 

Kayla tilted his chin up. "I'm sorry." 

Hannah scoffed. She took her place, rubbing Aaron's cheek sweetly. 

"Try to escape again, and I'll break the other one."

He tried to say something. "You..." 

The words died on his tongue. He couldn't remember what he was trying to say. 

"Find something better to tie him with."

Jeans reappeared. Where had she gone? "Did you really have to do that?"

"We had no other choice. If he isn't afraid of us, he poses a bigger threat. We had to show him we are serious."

"This is not 'we.'"

"Don't give me a reason to doubt you."

"At least let me wrap his ankle."

"Why? So it's properly braced for the next time he tries to run away?"

"No-"

Hannah let go of him. His head lolled down, the cool wood floor pressed against his forehead. 

"You really think we could let him go now?"

"I think battery is a lesser sentence than attempted kidnapping."

Kayla corrected, "Not attempted anymore."

"If he gets out now, we get charged with both."

He tried, "No."

"He's still awake?"

He really had no intention of opening a case for either battery or kidnapping. He just wanted to get back to his room, to pass out on his bed instead of on a stranger's floor. 

Jeans moved to stand between him and Hannah. "If his ankle hurts too much, he becomes even more of a hassle. It's not like gauze is gonna make it so he can magically walk again. If anything, it would shut him up."

"Can we stop talking about him as if he's just some random guy?" Kayla protested, "This is Aaron T., doesn't that mean something?"

"Yeah, it means he has the money to sue the shit out of us for this."

"I just don't understand how we went from going to a 4*Town concert to keeping one of them captive in our hotel room."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before bringing him in here."

"Breaking his ankle was extreme." Jeans stated. "You messed this up for us, we could have been-"

"It's done now," Hannah snapped, "wrap his ankle, I don't care."

"Don't..." he mumbled.

"I'll be careful," Jeans promised, "trust me, it'll be better in the long run."

He wanted to trust her, but the slightest brush of her fingertips against his ankle was so vivid that he couldn't take in anything else. 

His entire world, all five of his senses, was dark. With nothing to perceive anymore, he stopped thinking entirely.

***

Aaron T. was very disappointed to find out that he hadn't been dreaming. 

He was back in the chair, bound in the same places with the addition of a chain of shirts holding his upper body against the back. 

His ankle throbbed, but it was at least tolerable now. There was a cool compress against it. It probably should've been elevated, or was that just sprains? He wasn't sure.

Hopefully, it would heal well. He hadn't broken an ankle since he was a kid, but that break didn't cause any long-term issues. Maybe he'd be lucky again. 

The lights had dimmed, a nice compromise for his still pounding headache. The only light source was a pocket-sized book light. 

Jeans girl was sitting on one of the stools, reading a book that was twice as long as any book should be. The only sounds in the room were the hum of the fridge, the rickety ceiling fan, and the occasional turn of a page.

Should he try to run away again? He was in a significantly worse state this time. Run was an optimistic term. His confidence had been nearly completely shattered. So much for being able to take those girls in a fight.

His bruised ego wasn't the only worry though, hell, it definitely shouldn't have been his first concern about a second escape attempt. His head and his leg were the real problems. If he couldn't take them before, he definitely couldn't take them now. There was a chance he wouldn't be able to make it to the door anyway. If stepping on his hurt foot caused half the pain he felt before, he'd probably just pass out again.

Fan-fucking-tastic. He sure loved being in a band. 

But maybe, just maybe, he could convince Jeans to help him out. Was it worth potentially missing out on a stealthier escape though? 

He feebly attempted to slip his arms free. They didn't budge. 

Yeah. He was going to need help.

He kept the volume down. "Whatcha reading?" 

She looked up, smiling a little. "Welcome back."

"Can't say I'm too thrilled."

"How's your ankle?"

"Better," he nodded, "thanks."

"Do you want to take something for the pain? I've got Tylenol, Advil, anything you could dream of."

Pain medication sounded like heaven, but he could already hear Aaron Z. chastising him. 

"You shouldn't take pain medication until a doctor tells you how bad it is. If you can't feel that something's wrong, you risk making it worse."

That advice might not have applied in this situation though. There would be no doctor's visit if he ended up on the other side of the country in a basement somewhere. 

Regardless, there was a chance she would give him something that wasn't pain medication, and he really, really wanted to avoid that.

"I shouldn't," he decided.

"Cautious," she observed, "not a trait I would've pinned on you."

Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it, don't say it, don't-

"They don't really cover what we're like in captive situations in magazines."

Huh! He could've said something much more abrasive! He should be proud of himself. 

"You really do think we're nuts, don't you?"

"Can't say I know what I'd do if I accidentally kidnapped someone, but it definitely wouldn't be to kidnap them even more."

"We're on the run," she admitted, "this concert was the first night we could really enjoy ourselves in months. I really don't blame Hannah for being so frantic, if the police get involved, it's over."

Oh. 

"I'm only telling you this because I know we messed up, I know we deserve the sentences you could charge us with, and I want to do the right thing, but I can't if the police are gonna get involved."

"I fell down the stairs."

"What?"

He nodded. "I fell down the stairs, and that's how I broke my ankle."

"Aren't you an acrobat?"

"Yeah, you'd think that acrobats would be pretty well-coordinated, but anybody who knows me would believe it. Who are you running from?"

"Parents. School. Life."

He could understand that.

"I get it."

"You're not gonna tell me to go back?"

"I don't have a right to. I know nothing about what you went through at home, but if it's bad enough to want to avoid it this badly, I'm not sending you back there."

She eyed him. "You're not what I expected."

"Just promise me you'll stay safe, yeah? Stay in safe places when you can, find work somewhere so you can afford to eat and all that."

"Right."

Part of him wanted to offer them money, something to help them afford the high cost of travelling across the country, but from how they were all dressed, he guessed money wasn't an object.

He would never operate under the assumption that these girls were spoiled rich kids who were running away from trivial things though, he had no right to. Money does not equal happiness, and money definitely doesn't mean loving parents.

He still wanted to help them though.

"You're right about avoiding the police, so you know not to steal, right? And you carry stuff in case you get attacked? How are you travelling?"

She started to look skeptical. "Why do you care so much?"

"Somebody has to, right?"

She turned away from him. "Fuck."

He had to remind himself that these girls weren't his responsibility. He couldn't take them in. He had enough self-respect for that. 

But he wouldn't doom them. 

"We don't have much time." Jeans girl twisted off the stool. "We're keeping watch in intervals, Hannah will be up in like, three minutes."

"I can't get out."

"Here." She slipped behind him, untying one of his wrists so he could work at the other. "Do you think you can walk?"

Yikes. "I don't know."

"You just have to make it to the elevator. Go to a random floor in case she follows you, maybe the first? The gym is still open, there could be people there, she won't-"

The restraint around his chest fell loose. He used the extra room to bend and start at his ankles. 

"-do anything rash if she thinks the public could call for help."

"Right." Elevator, first floor, gym. He was pretty sure there was a phone there he could use.

He wasn't sure who he was gonna call yet, maybe Z.? Probably Z., that made the best cover story. 

"Here, let me help you up."

He carefully tested his weight on his ankle. He shut his eyes, hissing out a breath as his leg seared from the inside out. 

"Yup, wow, that hurts." He forced out a laugh. 

Using Jeans girl as a crutch, he hobbled his way over to the door. 

"Good luck." She patted him on the back. 

He clicked the lock open, his hand firmly holding the doorknob.

This was it.

He opened the door.

"Aaron?" 

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

Standing a good seven feet down the hall, in all their angelic glory, were Jesse and Aaron Z. 

If he hadn't been clutching the slightly open door for dear life, his knees probably would have given out right then and there.

He couldn't form words. He had no clue what to say. 

An alarm clock sounded behind him. 

He stumbled forward, and his hotel roommates were at his side immediately. 

"You're hurt." Aaron Z. put a steadying hand behind Aaron T.'s back. 

"What did you do?" Hannah yelled behind him.

"We have to go." He whispered urgently. 

A hand grabbed his wrist, long fingernails digging into his skin.

"Baby," Hannah said, alight with urgency, "come back to bed."

His jaw nearly dropped. Aaron Z. shifted his hand so it gripped his shoulder. 

"You said you were done." She looked confused, how much practice had it taken to perfect that look? Innocent. "Why are they here?"

"Cut the bullshit." Jesse's voice was steady, smooth with quiet fury. 

Of course he wouldn't believe a word of what Hannah was saying. His boys knew him better than that. 

Hannah tugged at him, trying in vain to yank him away from Aaron Z. "He's done. He's leaving with me."

"Nobody's going anywhere."

"Jesse-"

He softened, just a little bit. "It's okay, we've got you."

Aaron Z. nodded. "Just say the word, and this is over. We'll call the police, or-"

"No!" Whoops, he hadn't meant to yell. "No police. I promised them no police."

He could practically see the thoughts going through Aaron Z.'s head, the doubt, the worry, the gears turning as he tried to work out what was happening. 

"Aaron, they hurt you." 

There was no way he was getting away with lying. It was just his luck that he ran into two of the best friends he could ask for. They were gonna pick him to pieces.

He could stall though, and create another opportunity for Hannah, Kayla, and Jeans to get out scot-free. 

"I fell down the stairs, sprained my ankle, they were just helping me." 

Hannah's nails dug deeper. 

He put on a smile. "Sorry for freaking you out. This is all a big misunderstanding."

"Why were you using the stairs?"

...what?

"Do you remember why you left?"

…

"I..."

"Shit." Aaron Z. muttered, "Jesse, call security."

"No!" He tried again. "Please, just, trust me. No security, no police."

"He hit his head," Hannah explained, "that's why he can't remember, we took him here because he was out of it."

Aaron Z. wasn't having any of it. "Who's we?" 

"My friends."

He gave Jesse a look. "Tell them to send a team."

"Aaron, please," he begged, "this doesn't need to be an issue."

"What's going on?" He gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 

"I can't, it's not my place to say, but I need you to listen. No police. I'll do whatever stupid doctor's visits and incident reports need to happen, but I tripped on the stairs and sprained my ankle. That is the only story you're getting out of me." He turned to Hannah. "And you need to trust that I'm not damning you. This isn't a ruse to try and get out of here, I don't want anything bad to happen to you. This is only gonna work if you don't provoke them any more."

She hesitated. 

There was nothing else he could do. Nothing else he could say. 

She pulled him hard, much harder than she had before.

The hand on his shoulder slipped away. 

No. No no no no no-!

Hannah tried to shut the door behind her, but Jesse and Aaron Z. were already inside. Jeans perked up, surprised, before trying to pry Hannah away. 

"Stop," she tried, "it's over."

"We'll adapt-"

"How? We can't smuggle three boy band members out of the state, fuck, it was bold of us to assume we could smuggle one."

Hannah shook. She closed her eyes. "That wasn't what anyone said was happening."

"Oh my God, Hannah-"

"Aaron." Aaron Z. said, his expression flat. "Tell me you didn't just defend people who tried to kidnap you."

"Ha ha?"

"This is not 'ha ha funny' joke time."

Jesse advanced, matching Hannah. He should have towered over her, but the confidence she seemed to gain from confrontation lifted her. He might have been a head taller, but it wasn't obvious.

"Did you hurt him?" he accused, "his ankle, did you do that?"

"Why?" She smirked. "What are you gonna do about it."

"Oh, you little-"

Hannah's arm disappeared from Aaron T.'s arm. She shoved him aside, and with nothing to hold on to he stepped hard on his broken ankle. 

"Jesus fucking-"

He teetered, and Aaron Z. caught him. "That is not a sprain."

"It is," he insisted, "it's fine."

"Aaron-"

His ears rang, coming in so strong it knocked him even more unsteady. He blinked a few times, trying to clear up his vision after yet another bout of blurriness.

"Aaron? T? Can you hear me?" Aaron Z. was shaking him.

"Huh?" 

"I swear to..." he mumbled, "Jesse, let's go!"

If Jesse heard him, he didn't react. 

Aaron T. had only seen him like this once before. The icy glare, the balled fists, the tight jaw, they were all signs that he was honed in, acting entirely off impulse.

Someone had tried to cut Taeyoung's hair. Not a stylist, not a 4*Townie, just some creep who wanted his hair. The three of them were at the mall, and Jesse wasted no time, absolutely rocked the guy's shit. 

This was exactly the same. 

"Jesse," Aaron Z. tried.

Hannah tilted her head a little bit. "Go on."

"Z." Jesse's voice was level. 

"Yeah?"

"Go."

Oh, fuck no. 

Aaron T., with help from the arm of the couch, slipped away from Aaron Z. There was no way in hell he was gonna let Z. take him out of that room, not with Jesse still there. "Don't you dare."

"Aaron-"

"Jesse, I swear to God if you try to play hero right now-"

Jesse took a step back. He didn't take his eyes off of her.

Aaron T. felt some of his growing tension give way. "Let's just all take a moment, and we'll talk about this."

"What is there to say?" Hannah asked. 

Now that he knew to look, he could see the exhaustion and fear deeply set in the bags under her eyes and the crease of her forehead.

She was wrong about fear though. Some people cower before it, sure, but some scared people act rashly, and running away from home, living with the persistent thought that it could all be over was a sure-fire way to scare someone into fighting.

Everyone in that room was scared, and as 4*Town's resident tension-breaker, it was his job to de-escalate. He'd already made it much worse by reacting instead of thinking. 

"We want the same thing." 

Her eyes flicked over to him. "You've been saying that."

"And I mean it. I know what you're going through." 

"You couldn't," she accused, "you couldn't know the half of it."

"I was twelve."

He could feel every single set of eyes in that room as the quality of their attention morphed. He tried to ignore the confusion and the thick haze of worry his bandmates dawned. He'd deal with that later.

Hannah abandoned her confrontation with Jesse, caught so off guard she almost forgot to keep up the tough girl act.

"I ran away when I was twelve," he admitted, "for seven months." 

She exchanged a look with Jeans. 

"So I get it. I completely understand why you're cautious, and protective of your friends, and hostile. You're a good friend." He nodded toward Jesse and Aaron Z. "These are the best friends I've got, and they just tried to help me in the same way you're trying to help your friends. I don't think you're a bad person, you were doing what you needed to do to survive."

"I broke your ankle."

Uh oh. He shut his eyes.

"Aaron." Aaron Z. pinched his brow. "Sprain?" 

"I take it back." He flashed Hannah a smile. "You're horrible, now he's gonna be on my ass about it all night."

She didn't bother to humour him.

"Point is, I would really, really like to avoid the police getting involved, and I know you do too."

"Right."

"So let's just go our separate ways, and pretend this didn't happen."

She considered it.

Jesse took a few more steps back, until he was just a few feet away from the slightly ajar bedroom door. That extra distance seemed to make all the difference to both him and Hannah. 

"Okay." Her shoulders lowered. "Okay."

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair in a vain attempt to stop his hands from shaking. 

"Jesse? Z.?" He looked between the two of them. "Is that cool?"

He could see their dissatisfaction, their hesitation to leave things the way they were. 

"What do we tell the team?" Jesse raised the question.

"I fell down the stairs."

"You know Robaire isn't gonna believe that."

"Maybe not." He shrugged. "But I'm not telling him anything else, and you aren't either."

There was a spark of defiance, small but bright. "Really?"

God Jesse, take a hint.

"Really. As soon as we're out of here, it's never coming up again."

"Jess." Aaron Z. put in. "We can handle this ourselves. We'll make sure he's okay."

That seemed to get through to him. "Right, yeah, okay."

It was not right, yeah, or okay. Aaron T. wasn't a fool. There was an earful waiting for him back in their hotel room, an earful that would involve trying to convince two more people that these girls deserved a second chance.

"Okay." Aaron T. confirmed. "It was nice meeting you. A little unconventional, but nice."

"Sorry about your ankle." Hannah grimaced. "And for not believing you."

He waved it off. "Water under the bridge. Take care, okay? And tell Kayla I said bye."

"I... will?"

"And Jeans?"

It took a moment for her to realize that "Jeans" was her. "Oh! Yeah?"

"Remember what I said, yeah? Be smart, and be safe."

"You too," she said, "and I'm sorry."

"You've been fine-"

"No! I mean, I'm sorry about all this, yeah, but I more meant..." She looked down, her bangs hiding her eyes. "I more meant that I'm sorry you understand. I hope things are better now."

He smiled.

"Yeah, they really are." He took Aaron Z.'s offer of an arm as he started toward the door. "It can get better. It takes time, but there's always the possibility."

Once the door shut behind them, all three members stood in silence. Aaron T. found himself looking anywhere except for the two people next to him.

"You left to get ice." Jesse wouldn't look at him either. "In case you were wondering. You left to get ice, and disappeared for two hours."

"Sorry."

"We looked everywhere."

"I'm sorry."

"And then you suddenly come flying out of some random person's hotel room?"

He bristled, fixing Jesse a tired glare. "I didn't ask to get kidnapped."

There wasn't any malice. If anything, Jesse looked just as tired as he felt. "You know that's not what I'm saying."

"Right. Whatever." He tried to walk away, only to be rudely reminded that one of his legs was out of commission. He grabbed hold of the wall and used it to put some distance between them.

"What are you doing?" Aaron Z. was unamused.

"Going back to our room."

"You don't have a key."

Fuck.

"Can I have the key?"

"No."

"Wh-"

"We're going to the other room."

"Oh hell no."

"I'm gonna let you tell the story," Aaron Z. said, "but if you lie I'm calling you on it."

He slumped against the wall. "Z., man, you're killing me. I just wanna sleep."

"You've got a broken ankle. Robaire and Tae have to know."

"And you were just taken hostage," Jesse added, not bothering to stop whatever clutsterfuck of emotions he was feeling from oozing into his words. "In case you forgot."

"Get off my ass, I was there."

"No, T., I need you to be honest with me."

He flinched, taken aback. "What?"

"No bullshiting, no jokes, no deflecting."

"Jesse-"

"What did they do to you?"

He shut his eyes, breathing out slowly through his nose. "I'll tell you, but I'm only saying it once so you're gonna have to wait."

"T."

"Let's just go."

"T."

He snapped, "What?"

"I'm sorry. I should have gone with you."

His frustration ebbed. "This isn't on you."

"I just." Jesse paused, and crossed his arms. It made him look smaller. "This isn't the first time you've disappeared and gotten into trouble."

"Is this about the hitchhiking?"

Aaron Z. raised a brow. "The what?"

"Don't worry about it."

"No, it's not that." Jesse took a few paces forward, replacing the wall as Aaron T.'s crutch. "It's always you. Something bad happens, and it always happens to you."

"I'm sor-"

"Don't apologize." Aaron Z. joined them, ruffling his hair lightly. His gaze lingered on his curls for a second, before dropping to meet Aaron T.'s eyes. "He's worried about you. We both are. He's just not articulate enough to explain why."

Jesse rolled his eyes. "And you are?"

"He's upset because he feels like he came close to losing to you."

"Awe, Jess."

"Shut up."

"You care so much."

"You make it sound like I never show you an ounce of affection."

He rested his head on Jesse's shoulder. "You're so easy to rile up, hot-head."

"That's not all of it though, Z."

"I know." The corner of his mouth turned up. 

Aaron T. frowned. "What?"

"Was that true?" Aaron Z. asked suddenly, "What you said about running away?"

Ah. Of course.

"Mhm."

"God," Jesse muttered.

"Don't tell me you're surprised."

"Not really," Aaron Z. admitted, "I hate that I'm not though."

"It happened." He shrugged. "It happens."

"This really isn't something you should just dismiss." 

"Oh, you have no room to talk." He jabbed at Jesse's side. "Mr. 'I almost died in a car accident and I don't care.'"

"I'm pretty sure I did care, it just took a second."

"So give me a second too. Let me pitch a fit or whatever." 

Understanding finally danced in Jesse's eyes. "Okay."

He turned to Aaron Z. "I just need to do the denial things, and then I can do the hard part."

He looked like he wanted to say something, but he held his tongue.

"What? What's that face for?"

"Nothing."

"No," he whined, "don't hold out on me Z."

"It just baffles me that you find the part where we argue easier than the part where you accept help."

Oh. Well fuck. 

"Whoops."

"But we have all the time in the world, so take it at whatever pace you need to."

"You've always been the smarter Aaron."

He directed them toward the Robaire/Taeyoung room. "Only in some areas."

"True." Jesse broke into a small grin. "Give yourself some credit T."

He raised a brow. "If you say so."

"You're doubtful."

"Remember when I dropped the knife, you know like, last week?"

"That was not last week."

"Capeesh capoosh."

Aaron Z. scrunched his nose. "Tomato tomato?"

"He speaks his own language," Jesse consoled, "yes, I remember."

"You're telling me any of that was smart?"

"I was alluding to how I've never beaten you at Monopoly."

"Or trivia," Aaron Z. added. 

"Okay jeez." Aaron T. chuckled. "I get it, I'm good at board games, that's totally practical in everyday life."

"Aaron-"

"No, wait, that one was a joke," he added quickly, "thanks guys, for uh, for helping."

"Hey." Jesse patted his shoulder. "Don't mention it."

"No, like, thank you. For this, and for with the girls."

"Seriously," Aaron Z. said, "if it keeps you safe, it's no problem."

There it was again, a feeling he'd grown quite accustomed to. 

Part of him was bitter that the boys' love for him was so unconditional. He loathed that every time he made it difficult for them, a persistent voice told him over and over they would be done with him soon. 

Good things don't happen to you Aaron, and when they do, they don't last. 

But they were six years into this shit, and that was nothing to scoff at. Over time, he'd learned to shut that voice down, to remind himself that his friends did love him unconditionally, the same way he loved them. Some nights, he had to repeat it to himself like a mantra. 

He could never shut it out completely, it always came back, but he was learning to stop trusting it. 

The part that he hated wasn't the affection though, it was what the affection meant. The way he'd shudder when Taeyoung wrapped his arms around his waist, the way his throat would tighten when Robaire kneeled to tie his shoes for him, the way he'd still get surprised when someone cooked enough food for him to eat, it was a cruel reminder that somehow, some time ago, he fucked up badly enough to lose out on a mother. 

It was a reminder that unconditional love existed, and could be given to him, just not by the person who'd raised him. Go figure. 

He didn't want to be thinking about his childhood though, not more than he had to. The running away was already fucking with his head, he sure as hell didn't want to make it worse.

When they reached their destination, Aaron Z. knocked twice. "It's Aaron."

After a couple seconds, the door opened. Taeyoung stood, squinting as the bright hall lights seeped into the dim room. He scanned the three of them. 

"The fuck-"

"Long story." Aaron T. grinned lazily. "Can we come in?"

"Ro?" Taeyoung didn't take his eyes off them. 

Robaire answered from somewhere in the depths of the room. "What's up?"

"T.'s hurt."

"What?" He appeared, nudging Taeyoung out of the way so the three of them could come in. "What happened?"

"It's not bad, just my ankle." 

"Z." Robaire tried. "How bad is it?"

"Broken."

Part of him expected a lecture, but Robaire must've seen something, some feature that was slightly off, something to clue him in that this wasn't their average rodeo.

"Come, sit."

They spread out across both beds, with Aaron T. laying with his back against the headboard. 

"Are you okay?" Robaire asked him directly. 

"I think, uh, I think I'm gonna withhold from answering that. Not because I'm not okay, but because if I say I am, those two are gonna run me through a paper shredder."

"There's a reason you're here and not with a doctor, I take it?"

"Yeah, uh, ha, okay, so, some things happened, things that you should probably, definitely know about, but I don't want the staff knowing about so we all have to agree on a cover story."

"For..?"

"For how I sprained-"

"Broke," Aaron Z. corrected.

"-broke my ankle."

"Okay." Robaire nodded slowly. "Tae, you good?"

Taeyoung adjusted, grabbing a pillow and sitting with it on his lap. "I'm good."

"Then we're all ears."

They all watched him, each expectant and worried. 

He caught Aaron Z.'s eye. "Do I just... say it? Or do I build up to it..?"

"Whatever you want."

He hesitated. How the fuck was he supposed to...?

...!

Aaron T. you creative genius. 

"Alright, everybody up."

"Huh?"

"I already lived through this once, if I'm gonna live through it again, I want it to be entertaining. Let me assign you some roles, you're gonna act it out."

"Good God," Jesse grumbled. 

"Okay whiny, you can be me. Go on, get up."

"I hate you for this." He pointed at him, but obeyed regardless.

"Tae, you're gonna be playing Kayla. Think 4*Townie, a little odd, maybe just a little bit of poor decision making."

He saluted. "Where do you want me, director?"

"Behind T."

"Yes sir!"

He got up, slipping past Jesse to stand behind him.

"Alright. Kayla, you have just seen the glorious, the magnificent, the stunning Aaron T. in person after he gave the performance of his life at 4*Town's 2001 winter extravaganza."

He nodded seriously. "Oh wow! It's Aaron T.! In... the hotel?"

"Yes, correct, current setting: the hotel hallway."

"Awesome," he continued, "wow! I'm such a big fan!"

"Great Kayla, now hit him really hard, right in the head."

"Um?"

Aaron T. pursed his lips. "Get ready for your big fall T."

"Um?" Taeyoung grew even more alarmed.

"I know," he said, "please just roll with it? Spoilers, I made it out alive."

"If you say so."

Taeyoung mimed hitting Jesse, who seemed to forget he was opposed to the whole acting thing, because put everything into his fall. It took Aaron's entire being to stop himself from bursting out laughing.

"Okay, now pretend to drag him."

Taeyoung gave him a look, but picked up one of Jesse's legs regardless. 

"Scene change, we're in Kayla's hotel room now. Kayla, you're now realizing what you've done. You're panicking, you didn't mean to do this, you tie him to a chair."

"Those don't match up-"

"Aaron T., you're still out cold."

Jesse reached for the desk chair and pulled it closer to him. He sat in it and slumped over, bringing himself back into character.

"Action!"

"Oh no!" Taeyoung grabbed his head. "What have I done?"

He fought back a smile. "Okay T.! Wake up."

Jesse lifted his head, his eyes narrow and mouth pursed slightly. He spoke in an absurdly low voice. "What the fuck?"

"Too real." He wheezed. "Kayla, tell him this was an accident."

"Hello world famous 4*Town member Aaron T., I accidentally knocked you out and took you to my room."

He ignored the way Robaire was staring at him. 

"Alright T., now you, being the super cool and understanding guy you are, are chilling. It's fine. She's cool, you ask to leave."

He spoke in that same, low voice. "Wanna let me go?"

Taeyoung looked to him for instruction.

"You don't want to. You're worried you gave him brain damage."

His mouth fell open into an "ah" shape. "Oh, but acclaimed performer Aaron T., what about your head? I hit you so hard, what if you never speak again?"

"I'm speaking right now, doll, I'll be fine." 

When had he ever called someone- 

"It's fine," Jesse continued, "hunkalicois Aaron Z. will fix me."

Occasionally, the members would do something that reminded Aaron T. that they do, in fact, know him. Whatever Jesse had just done was not one of those things.

"Kayla, you agree, but before you have the chance to untie him, the door opens."

He gasped. "Who is it?"

"Z., go walk into the room, you're Hannah."

He frowned. "Okay?"

"Ro, follow him in, you're Jeans. You're just getting back from the concert, you see T., you freak out. You start talking about how you're going to smuggle him out."

They exchanged a glance. 

"Go on!" Aaron T. waved. 

"Oh my God," Aaron Z. deadpanned, "Is that Aaron T.?"

"Enthusiasm Hannah!"

His glare shot daggers. "You're already pushing it."

"Yeesh."

"Oh no!" Robaire covered his mouth with a surprised hand. "Oh my! Kayla, why is Aaron T. here?"

"It was an accident!"

"Well." Aaron Z. crossed his arms. "Since we are perfectly logical people, let's smuggle him out of the hotel."

Aaron T. made an okay sign with his hand. "T., you slip out of the restraints and make a break for the door. Hannah, you'll catch him and hold him back."

Jesse booked it, only to get tackled by Aaron Z., who scooped him up bridal style as though it was nothing. He buried his head into Aaron Z.'s chest, shoulders shaking with hints of laughter.

"T., you break free and try again, but Hannah trips you. You stay down."

He could feel his heart rate start to pick up as Jesse laid on the floor. Everyone in the room waited for his next instructions. 

"Hannah, uh." He fumbled with his hands, his next words were barely audible. "Break his ankle."

"What?" Aaron Z.'s face froze over. 

"Stomp on it, and T., you pass out again."

Robaire was shell-shocked. "Aaron-"

"Kayla, Hannah, and Jeans, you put him back in the chair, and then leave Jeans to keep watch while you sleep."

Taeyoung had completely abandoned all acting-related efforts. "T."

"That's the worst of it, I promise. Let's keep going."

Nobody moved. 

"C'mon," he complained, "or I'm not telling you the rest."

"She broke your ankle?" Jesse said, sitting up.

"Why are you surprised? You were there when she admitted it."

"Excuse me for thinking 'sorry for breaking your ankle' was about pushing you over or something, you know, an accident? She attacked you."

"It's fine." He shrugged. "Done and dusted, can we please continue?"

Robaire's lips drew into a straight line. "That's not fine."

He groaned. "That's it, I'm going back to my room."

He started to get up, but Taeyoung stopped him, holding his hands out like a traffic conductor. 

"You still don't have a key." Aaron Z. pointed out.

"So give it to me, or I'll go down to the lobby and get one myself."

"Not alone you won't."

"Come with me, if you're so worried."

"Aaron." Taeyoung pulled out the watery eyes. He scanned his face, as though to take in every detail.

Aaron T. let something slip. "I'm used to it." 

Uh oh. Danger, danger, danger! His eyes were starting to tear up. He blew out a breath and picked at the cuff of his jeans. 

"Can we, uh, not do this? The thing where you all make me feel things? I just want to go to bed."

"We'll get you to bed," Robaire promised, "but we need to sort this out first. You can't sleep with a broken ankle, you're gonna need to see a doctor tonight."

"And in order to see a doctor, we all need to agree on a story," Aaron Z. added. 

"I'm a little confused." Taeyoung took a seat next to Aaron T. "Why are we coming up with a cover story?"

"I'm not sending those girls back home."

"Why?"

He bit the inside of his lip. He could have sworn a bunch of bees flew into the hotel room, swarming around his head. The buzz drowned out his thoughts, and their stingers killed the words on his tongue. The smell of honey was so strong, so potent, so thick that it bound him all over again. 

Not now. Please not now. 

"Hey." Jesse laid next to him, taking his hand and rubbing it gently. "I've got it, okay?" 

He nodded, swallowing hard.

"They're runaways. T. doesn't want the police involved because he doesn't want to send them home."

Robaire looked surprised. "Even though they hurt you?"

His words still weren't cooperating, so he just shrugged.

"That's... would you press charges if that wasn't the case?"

"Maybe," he mumbled.

"Why is this different?"

"Please stop asking me questions."

"I just want to understand."

"You don't need to understand." He shut his eyes. "I'm not doing that to them."

"Are you hearing yourself?" Robaire's voice had a nervous quality to it, like he was approaching a wild animal. "Aaron, what about what they did to you?"

"God! Who cares? I don't care, it doesn't matter, I'm not going to the police."

"You don't have to go to the police, but you do have to take yourself into account. Those girls kidnapped you and broke your ankle, and you don't want to press charges?"

"No-"

"That's where I have a problem." Robaire situated himself at the end of the bed. "To me, it sounds like you're valuing their well-being over yours. Were you scared?”

“Ro-”

“Were you?”

“Of course!”

“Why doesn’t that matter to you?" Even though the words were plush, soft with no hard edges, Aaron T. still felt something sharp in his chest.

“I don’t know.”

“What makes us different from you, Aaron? Why do you go out of your way to keep us happy, to keep us safe, but as soon as it's you it doesn't matter anymore?”

Aaron T. shook, a cyclone of emotions shattering the already fractured pieces of his mask. “Because I'm not you. I'm not you, and I will never be you.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don't-” His hands latched onto his hair. He pulled it away from his scalp, fighting both to relieve some of the pressure from his head and to replace the lingering feeling of Hannah’s hold. “I'm trying-”

“Breathe.” Taeyoung rubbed his back gently. 

“It's not the same when it’s me.” Aaron T. got his words back together. “I know that's wrong of me to say, but it's true. You four deserve the world. You deserve everything good, and then some, and me? I don't deserve shit, hell, I definitely don't deserve you.”

Jesse's jaw tightened. Robaire watched. 

"I just, it doesn't matter if I get hurt. I don't care. I can handle it."

"You know you can have nice things, right?" Aaron Z. said.

He blinked twice. "Such is the luxury of having money?"

"What? No, you're allowed to have good things come naturally."

"Well-"

"Let me finish." He joined the rest of the group on the bed. "Sometimes I think that you think you have to earn everything good that happens to you, and then you blame yourself when you end up in shitty situations. You're not responsible for this, Aaron. This isn't the default, it's just some shitty luck."

He laughed dryly. "Right."

"Any one of us could have left to get ice."

He dropped his head, landing in the tussled-up blankets. "Who accidentally kidnaps someone?"

"That's what I'm saying." Aaron Z. shrugged. 

"Y'all must think I'm nuts."

"Maybe a little," Taeyoung said.

"Glad to know it's still on the table."

He could sense the change of energy in the room.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I know you're worried, and I'm being difficult." He met Robaire's eyes. "I just, I can't send them back."

"Then it won't happen." He spoke kindly. "You're okay."

"Z., you were wrong, the arguing part is worse." Aaron T. slumped so he was flat on the bed.

Maybe... maybe it was time to explain. 

"Wasn't it you who said-"

Aaron T. shushed him. "Hold. I'm trying to work up the courage."

"Oh... okay?"

Time to do this. Time to say it. Just get it all out, Aaron. Rip it off like a bandaid. Let the cat out of the bag. Air out your trauma like dirty laundry, or at least, some of it. Let's go. You can do this. 

Why was it so much easier to say in that other hotel room? Even the hall was easier than this.

"You all know how I grew up, y'know, not so great?"

He was met with silence.

"Yeesh, tough crowd. Well, I wasn't exactly happy about it. Didn't really want to be a part of that anymore, so I left. Just me, the road, and the fifty bucks my mom kept under the shoebox in the closet.

"I got as far as I could. I was too young for a photo id, so that part was kind of easy. Turns out my mom not having photos of me was a blessing in disguise. Nobody knew who they were looking for. Not that I knew if anyone was looking.

"One day though, they found me. I was busking, and I didn't know the area I was in had a curfew for that, noise y'know? A police officer stopped by to let me know, and I just froze up, and they realized something was wrong. They took me in, and figured out who my parents were, still don't know how, and I begged them not to send me back.

"They just thought I was some bratty kid though, some horrible child who worried his parents over a stupid spat."

He could still hear that police officer. 

"I spoke to your mom, Aaron. She's on the way to come get you. She's happy to hear you're okay."

He knew it was a lie. He knew what was waiting for him at home. 

"Please," he'd begged, "please, she doesn't love me."

"You need to learn respect, young man. Did you even think once about how worried she must've been?"

"My mom, she, uh, she made it very clear that stealing money from her wasn't allowed."

"Shit," Aaron Z. breathed.

"I can't send those girls home, not if there is any chance of that happening to them." He put on a smile, even if it felt wrong on his lips. "So yeah! Onto the cover story."

Jesse, his now favourite member of 4*Town, clasped his hand a little harder. "You fell down the stairs."

"And sprained-"

"Broke."

"And broke my ankle. End of story."

"That must've hurt a lot," Taeyoung said. Aaron wasn't entirely sure if he was talking about the ankle. 

"It happens."

He opened his mouth to protest, but Jesse spoke up first. "Thank you for telling us, Aaron."

"Oh." He chuckled. "Sure, no problem."

Jesse looked skeptical.

"Okay, maybe yes problem, but..." What was he trying to say? "Can I, can I be honest?"

"Of course," Taeyoung said.

He nodded appreciatively. "I, sometimes I have a hard time, I don't know, uh, I have a hard time..." His eyes welled up again, and he groaned. "For fucks sake, I hate this."

He needed to get his thoughts together. What was he trying to say?

He wanted to let them into his mind, to share himself with them in a way that he'd tried over and over again to. He wanted to feel close to them, to feel far away from the hotel, from his inadequacies, from the rest of his life. 

But he was stuck. His mind was a small room, confining him in the same way those scarfs and shirts had held him in Kayla's room. There were no doors. There were no windows. If he wanted to let anybody in, he was going to have to claw at the walls, there were already marks there, it's not like he never tried. Those walls had once been adorned with beautiful wallpaper, playful and bright. Tearing it down had meant coming to terms with how bleak and suffocating that room really was. 

So what was he trying to say? 

Take a breath, Aaron. Console yourself a little. What do you want to say?

"I don't hate myself," he started, "I think I said some things that make it seem that way, but I don't, I promise. It's, sometimes I forget that this is okay. I'm usually better at reminding myself that... pain isn't the default? That being okay is an option for me?"

It's nice to not be alone. He should say that.

"It's nice to not be alone. I'm so used to doing it alone, I think it's hard to, I don't know, I've never really had to talk about anything before? Not all at once, definitely not like this. It was always 'hide,' you know? Go somewhere dark and quiet and pray nobody knows you're hurt because they will just make it worse.

"And I know that it's not the case with you! Like, seriously, most of the time, it's really fine. I've been working on it a lot, and I've come a really long way. Tonight just, it hit close to home, and brought up a lot of memories and shit, and it feels like I'm falling all over again."

He took a shaky breath, and continued, "This is really scary, even more than the kidnapping. Saying all of this, it, I know that healing isn't linear, and I know that if this is affecting me so much I wasn't done healing anyway, but it still feels like I'm back at square one. I still feel like everything I worked for was for nothing, it feels like, like I'm back home."

The internal version of him cracked his room's walls. His knuckles were bleeding, seeping through the crack and manifesting as the tears that finally breached his ducts. 

"I don't wanna go back there." He fought back a sob. "I don't, I wouldn't survive it."

"C'mere." Taeyoung rolled so he was closer, wiping a tear from Aaron T.'s cheek. "You never have to do it alone again, okay?"

"Tae, I think I'm in love with you."

He giggled, and tucked some of the hair out of his face. "Okay lover boy, take it easy."

He tried to laugh, but his tears made everything thick. "I just wanted to let you all know how I was feeling, I guess. Don't worry."

"Do you need anything?" Robaire crawled further up the bed, squashing an annoyed Jesse as he wiggled into place. 

"Just you guys, no words though, I don’t need to be comforted like that, not right now at least. I just want to be sad, and be around you, and maybe take some pain meds?"

"Oh shit, your ankle!" Taeyoung tensed up. 

Aaron Z. frowned. "You really should-"

"See a doctor first, I know. Always looking out for me, Zeezee."

"Zeezee?"

"I'm officially adding 'freedom to use any nicknames I want' to the list of things I need."

"Don't push it."

"Zeezee is cute," Robaire teased, "this may be your finest work yet, Teetee."

He nearly choked. "Tell you did not-"

Jesse grew terrified. "Oh god."

"Did you just call me 'Titty?'"

Robaire realized his mistake. "Oh no."

"You know what I want?" Aaron T. made grabby hands. "Some Ro-titties."

"I will get a restraining order."

"C'mon Ro-tits-erie chicken, gimme gimme."

He huffed, but shuffled even further up the bed regardless. Aaron T. grinned wide, shimmying his shoulders in anticipation. 

"Bring it in." Robaire sighed. 

"Yay!" He curled in close, resting his against Robaire's chest. "Home sweet home."

"Hardy har."

"You've given into my secret agenda." Aaron T. sniffled. "Now I get cuddles."

"You're still gonna have to go to the doctor tonight."

"I can't hear you, I'm too comfortable."

Taeyoung joined the pile, sighing contentedly as he sank into the space behind Aaron T. "This is nice."

"It would be nicer if Robaire wasn't sitting on me," Jesse grumbled. 

"Zeezee," Robaire called, "get in here."

"Call me that one more time, I dare you."

"Ooo." Taeyoung broke into a sneaky grin. "So much tension."

"Just kiss already." Aaron T. said, wiping the freshest onset of tears onto Robaire's shirt with zero remorse. 

"Why do you always make it weird?" Aaron Z. climbed so he was behind Taeyoung and slipped his arms around him. Taeyoung giggled, clasping his thumb and playing with his ring.

"You guys are my world." Aaron T. sighed. 

Robaire played with his hair. "We're lucky to have you."

The floodgates unleashed. 

"Stop," he sobbed, "You're the best."

A tiny part of him was a little concerned that he only seemed to be able to cry like this when he received affection, but he'd unpack that some other time. For now, he just wanted to float away in the arms of his friends.

"Thank you," he added.

"We're always with you." Aaron Z. smiled with his eyes. "Even if you drive me up the wall sometimes."

"You love me."

"I do." 

I do. He immortalized it. 

"This is very sweet," Jesse said, "but I can't breathe."

"Oh! Sorry!" Robaire got up, completely abandoning the bed. 

"No." Aaron T. whined. Jesse, now visible again, gave him a kind smile. 

Aaron T. reached forward, and pinched his nose. Jesse took in a deep breath, and tried to blow out of it, his cheeks puffing up. When it failed, Aaron let go, relishing the way Jesse seemed to light up.

"I should go see the doctor," he decided.

"Yeah? Want me to come?" Robaire returned to the bed, a box of tissues in hand. Aaron T. gratefully took one. 

"Yes please."

"Me too." Aaron Z. raised his hand.

His laugh was wet. "Field trip." 

The pair helped him up. He gave Jesse and Taeyoung a brief thumbs up. 

"We'll be here." Taeyoung gave him one back. 

As they made for the door to the hotel room, Aaron T. felt his legs grow heavy with nervous resistance. He was about to go back out there, tear-stained and imperfect, and sit in front of a doctor. 

He could get a cast. He could need crutches. 

It was... it really did hit close to home.

This time though, he had four amazing people to support him. Maybe, if they weren't too tired when all was said and done for the night, he would ask them to sign his cast.