Still A_Stray: Living With Stray Kids (ot8 fanfic)

Chapter 29 ★

I can't sleep

Four hours.

That's how long Stray Kids had been learning their choreographies. There were four songs, Chan had told me. An hour for each, with ten-minute breaks in between.

And yet they showed no signs of stopping.

Changbin had assured me, during one of the breaks, that they'd eaten. I wasn't sure I believed him. To me, of course, the songs all looked perfect; after all, they'd been at them for hours—but after they ran through it, Chan would pause the music, and he and Minho would tell the group something they'd done wrong, or something new to work on, and they'd be at it again.

"Jeongin," Chan said after they finished the song for ... the sixth time? Seventh? I'd lost track. "You need to remember to jump earlier in the opening. It's on the beat right after."

Jeongin nodded, his face slick with sweat. After the first few hours, the members stopped falling to the floor to rest in between songs—it took too much energy to stand back up again.

Chan frowned. "If you want, we can practice just that part again. Or we can go over it together once we get back—"

"No," Jeongin said, cutting him off. "I can get it."

Chan's eyes lingered on Jeongin's face, but he nodded. "Minho?"

Minho shook his head. "We just need more coordination."

They'd been saying that for the past half hour. I bit my lip, wanting to speak up but knowing they wouldn't listen.

"We'll run through this one twice more, then move on to the last song," said Chan. He cracked his neck and turned to play the song again. "Ready?"

They all nodded, even though I could see their chests still heaving, hair matted to their faces as they took up the positions once more.

I watched as they ran through the song again, wishing I could offer more help than just sitting on the sidelines. Minho must have been able to see something I didn't, because they all looked perfect—flowing from one move to the next in complete unison.

The song ended, and the members all dropped their hands, panting breaths filling the silence.

I noticed it a second after Chan did.

Noticed the way Jeongin was shaking: his hands, his shoulders, his knees all trembling like willow saplings in the wind—he might have been the whole run-through. His eyes were glazed and unseeing, focusing on a point in the mirror, his body barely holding itself upright under the fluorescent lights.

I was out of my seat in a second, my heart lurching into my throat, but I was too late—he was already falling, crumpling like tissue paper without a sound—

And then Chan was there. Moving faster than I had, he grabbed Jeongin's arm to stop his fall. I was at his side the next moment; Minho was there the second after that, helping Chan lift Jeongin's weight over his shoulders. "What happened?" I demanded.

"Overexerted himself," Chan grunted. Minho held Jeongin's face gently, making sure his head didn't slide the wrong way as Chan lifted him. "He must have skipped breakfast again. Minho—"

"Got it," Minho said, his face drawn tight as he quickly turned headed for the door.

I took in the way Minho had known what to do, and the way the members stood silently watching as Chan and Seungmin moved him to a chair. "Wait—has this happened before?"

Chan's lips pursed, but he didn't reply.

"Yes," Seungmin told me, his voice grim, eyes focused on his only dongsaeng.