Unnotice
It’s been weeks, yet the heaviness in your chest never fades.Tears fall quietly whenever you're alone.The meals in front of you remain untouched—either given away or thrown out.You try to fight whatever this feeling is, but your focus slips.Problems pile up.Until one argument breaks you completely.And the next thing you know… you’re in a hospital bed, barely holding on.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
It had been weeks since the fight.
And still, your heart felt like it was carrying bricks.
The kind of weight no one else could see.
Your days blurred into one another. You smiled at the right times, laughed when you were expected to, and nodded when spoken to. You played your part well. So well, in fact, that no one noticed.
No one noticed that your smiles no longer reached your eyes.That your laughter had a strange hollowness to it.That your voice—always so full of energy—was quieter now, duller. Slightly cracked at the edges.You still showed up. Still trained. Still talked.
But you didn’t eat.
Not really. You picked at food during meals. Passed your portions to others with a joke.You told them you “ate earlier,” or that you “weren’t hungry,” and they believed you.
Why wouldn’t they?
You were Y/N—strong, cheerful, unshakable.
But behind closed doors, you were slowly falling apart.You cried at night. Quietly, into your pillow.Your body ached from exhaustion.Your thoughts screamed constantly.
And you? You said nothing.
Because everyone was busy.Because there was a comeback coming.Because you didn’t want to be a burden.
The practice room was hot. Air thick with sweat, frustration, and exhaustion.Everyone had pushed beyond their limits, shirts soaked, knees weak, water bottles long emptied.
But still, they pushed on.
The music blasted again.Eight-counts. Sharp steps. Repeat. Again. Again. Again.Your body was slower today.
Sluggish. Limp.
The world was tilting slightly with every turn.Your limbs were like weights dragging you down, and your chest felt tight. But you danced anyway.
Because this was SEVENTEEN. Because no one had time for weakness.
From across the room, Hoshi scanned the group with critical eyes. He was tired too—his shirt clung to his back, and sweat dripped from his temples. Still, his voice remained focused, commanding.
“Y/N,” he said loudly, eyes narrowing on you. “More energy please. Everyone else is in sync—only you’re behind. Please, cooperate.”
You flinched.
You nodded quickly. “Yes, sorry.” The music started again. You pushed harder. Ignored the way your vision swam. The tightness in your chest. The pain in your stomach from not eating for two days.
But then—
A wrong step.
Another mistake.
Another one.
Another.
And then someone shouted.
“Y/N, seriously—what’s wrong with you?” one of them snapped, his voice sharp with frustration. “We’re all tired too! We want to go home! You keep messing up! It’s like you don’t even care!”
You stood there, stunned.
Every pair of eyes turned toward you, drenched in sweat and anger and fatigue.
You opened your mouth. Nothing came out. You bowed your head. “Sorry.” You took one step back. Then another. And then—
Darkness.
Your body collapsed onto the floor, limbs twisted beneath you, unmoving.
“Y/N?!”
“Y/N!”
“Someone call someone!”
“Get help—NOW!”
You woke up to the cold sterility of a hospital room. A monitor beeped softly beside your head. Your arms were hooked up to IV drips. Your lips were cracked. Your throat burned. You blinked—and were met with the quiet sound of someone breathing beside you.
Jeonghan was there, holding your hand gently. His eyes were red. “You’re awake,” he whispered. You looked around.
Seungcheol was pacing by the door, jaw tight, eyes dark with worry.
Joshua sat beside your bed, wiping your forehead with a damp towel.
Woozi stood silently near the corner, staring at the IV drip like he wanted to break something.
Mingyu was at your feet, gripping your blanket like a lifeline.
Hoshi sat on the floor, head buried in his arms.
Vernon stared at you like he didn’t believe you were real.
And the member who had yelled at you earlier?
He sat against the wall, face hidden in his hands, his voice a wreck as he whispered:
“I didn’t know. I thought you were just tired. I didn’t know it was like this…”
The room was silent.
Tense. Guilty.
Broken.
You tried to speak—but your voice cracked. “I didn’t want to be a burden,” you whispered. Seungcheol walked over. Sat beside you. Placed his hand gently on top of yours.
“You’re not a burden, Y/N. You’re our family.”
“You’re the reason we don’t fall apart on days like these.”
“And we… we didn’t see you falling.”
Joshua looked down. His voice was low. “You always made sure we ate… and we never asked if you had.”
Minghao finally spoke from the corner, voice flat and tight. “I swear, if anyone ever makes you feel like you have to hide your pain again… I’ll make sure they regret it.”
You laughed weakly—and the tears came fast after that.
Because for the first time in weeks,
You weren’t invisible. You weren’t alone.
They took turns staying with you. Feeding you. Brushing your hair. Rebraiding your bracelet.
Mingyu brought soup in a thermos with your name drawn on the lid.
Seungkwan made playlists to cheer you up.
Jun bought new pajamas because “the hospital gowns were ugly.”
Dokyeom held your hand through every blood test.
And Woozi sat beside you all night, quietly adjusting your IV drip even though he didn’t know how.
They didn’t treat you like glass.
They treated you like royalty.
Because to SEVENTEEN…
You weren’t just a trainee.
You weren’t just a teammate.
You were their little sister.
Their light.
The glue that held thirteen pieces together.
And they promised, in the silence of that hospital room,
To never let you break again without someone catching you.













