051721

"No, no, Jungkook," I continued, "what do you need?"

A few pairs of feet came running behind me. I turned and found another male staff member with an ice bag approaching. I stood slowly, watching as he put the bag of ice directly behind Jungkook's neck, holding my brother's head up for him as he did so. Jungkook's eyes never fluttered open.

The staff member held the ice closer to his skin, pushing his head forwards further. I took a swift seat next to him and grabbed his clammy hand. "Kookie- please say something. What happened?"

Another staff entered the room, finding the opportunity to help. He brought along a fan, one of the plastic picket ones with the member's faces on it. He handed it to the first staff, who started immediately to swat air into my brother's face.

Seeing Jungkook so lifeless, so exhausted to the point he couldn't take care of himself was more than concerning to me. Concerning was the word I would have used for any of the boys being a bit too exhausted, but for Jungkook, a stronger word was needed.

Jungkook never showed his weakness'. At least, he didn't like to, unless he was forced into it. Even if he pushed himself too much- which he often did- he'd be the one to take care of himself. He'd be the one to fix it.

But right then, he was too weak to do any of that. He seemed helpless.

"Are you okay?" the second staff asked him.

"Ahhheah," Jungkook groaned, barely audible.

Another staff approached, using a towel to rub the wetness behind his neck. A female one appeared too, using her towels to pat his face as the first continued to keep the ice on his neck and fan swating at his face.

"Here," I said softly, taking the towel from the staff and crouching down in front of my brother to pat his face dry. "Kookie-oppa, tell me what's happening."

He didn't stir, silent.

I turned to the staff members with tears starting to form in my eyes. "Do you know what happened?"

The second staff shook his head. "Someone told us to get Jungkook help, he headed in here and he's been trying to catch his breath for a while. Water didn't help."

I looked at my brother. "Kook, are you having trouble breathing?"

One of the staff jogged over with a drink, and I brought the bottle to my brother's lips. He took it from me and turned his head back, trying to let the liquid flow into his mouth itself.

"Two minutes thirty seconds to the next stage, Jungkook needs to change," one of the camera crew said as he ran into the room. Kook was finally holding himself up better, taking in large gulps of liquid.

I felt helpless. Time was ticking, and I didn't know what to do, or how to help. Jungkook wasn't talking, and so I didn't know what I could do.

The fans kept outside cheering, oblivious to what was going on below. Their roar shook the ground, making me wince. I wanted the world to quiet down for a moment so Jungkook could take a second to catch his breath.

He stood, handing me his water bottle, "Thank you, Sujin."

"Jungkook, are you okay?"

He scrunched his nose, sighing as if every step was too painful to handle. Seeing him in so much pain made the tears in my eyes threaten to collect some more.

Stylists came over, holding the white button down and red jacket that was his outfit for the next set of songs in front of him. Helping him get his previous logoed, red long sleeve off, they continued fanning him.

I helped pull his white dress shirt over his arms, and with my slightly shaking fingers, I fumbled with sliding together the buttons. "Jungkook, slow down if you need to, please. You don't have to go so hard on yourself, you're just performing things they've already seen. This doesn't have to be perfect. They know how tiring this must be, so don't do it, Jungkook. Don't overdo it."

He nodded, "Okay."

I continued, "You guys have the medley of 'oldies' next, those especially don't have to be all perfect. You've performed 'Boy In Luv' and 'Fire' enough to satisfy them already. When you're not doing choreography, just focus on meeting the fans with your eyes, okay? That means more to them than any choreography could, and if you were having trouble breathing, don't push that. It's dangerous."

He kept walking, throwing on his jacket with almost blinding sequins in patterns over the luxurious-looking velvet of the blood red color as staff members ushered him.

"I'm serious, Jungkook."

Cypher 4 was blasting above us with the fans screaming along to the lyrics. We had about another minute before he went up, and the next song would be 'Fire'. Not a chance to catch his breath, at all.

I barely blinked before he was rushed below the stage again, ready to finish Cypher 4 with the rap line. The vocalists always joined them at the end, since their line of group songs were right after.

I knew I'd be keeping my eyes on him for the rest of the night.

But as Jungkook got up there, singing along and moving with every beat along to the end of Cypher, I knew he'd be okay. He was so strong, and he was going to keep going for the fans. I just hoped it wouldn't kill him.

I tried to let my mind ease as the crowd sang along to 'Fire', 'N.O.', and especially 'No More Dream', and focus on the concert at hand.

I could feel it. Every fan there felt it. I knew the boys felt it more than anyone. Their hard work had carried them to this. Music that shook the stadium, crowded bodys singing the same lyrics, and the seven boys dancing on the stage until they would be ready to pass out that night. The boys had worked so incredibly hard to get here.

I remembered what they'd told me about their times as trainees. The years they had just started to be a band, when they debuted, and the time after that was hard. It's hard for all idols, but as a hip-hop band from BigHit, they had a hard time. As they sang 'No More Dream', it was as if they were singing to their younger selves. Not just that, they were bullying, chanting, teasing the part of themselves that wanted to give up. They were flaunting in front of everything that had kept them from succeeding in the first place, showing how they'd done it. They were on this massive tour, they were across the world thousands of miles away from home, and their fanbase was huge. Meeting the fans that made this real was incredible. I wanted to personally thank every single one, because the boy's happiness and success supported me. Their life was mine, and these fans were letting us sustain it.

Not only that, but what I experienced that night wasn't just a concert. They were spending quality time with ARMY, their family. The fact that we were all there, meeting family from across the world was breathtaking. Seeing the stories behind everyone's eyes took me by surprise every time I had the chance to go out near the stage or into the concert hall.

It's a lie, you such a liar

See me, see me ya, you're a hypocrite

Why are you telling me to go another way? Do well yourself!

Please don't force me

(La la la la la)

What's your dream? What's your dream?

(La la la la la)

Is that your dream? Is that your dream?

Seeing them do it with so much force, with so much passion, rapping to the song they'd practiced too many times because they knew it was their entrance to the world- seeing that in person, seeing the effort they put into it filled my heart. I wanted to scream along to the lyrics, feeling it. There was some anger, but it was happy. I wanted, more than anything, to ensure they'd be able to look back on this song and feel good for now on. To never, ever have to look back.

It was after 'No More Dream' was over, that they went through 'Danger'. 'Fire', 'Run', and had a short break while Hoseok did his 'Boy Meet Evil' solo, before 'Blood, Sweat, and Tears'.

I left where I'd been watching the concert from a crack in the curtains behind the stage, and got ready to assist the boys as they changed their clothes. It was also urgent to me to check on Jungkook again. I couldn't see how anything he'd done since he'd had his first issues would make his exhaustion better.

When I found him, he didn't look improved. He was sitting as a staff member put the jacket made for 'Blood, Sweat, and Tears', which was a cream color with white pearls rimming all the seams. They didn't have much time before Hoseok's solo was done and they'd all be going back up. One of the stylists had a flashlight going so she could apply more makeup touches.

"Jungkook, you're almost there. Just one more song and the encore. Can you do it?"

"I'm alright, Sujin," he said as staff patted the sweat off his face yet again.

"Ya! Are you okay?" I heard a familiar voice shout. Namjoon was coming up behind me, crouching down to check his bandmate. I stood and glanced at him, silently begging him to verify that Jungkook was good enough to keep going.

Kook kept his head down and didn't answer after Namjoon asked how he was feeling. That concerned the elder.

Namjoon, more concerned and eager for a response, tapped Jungkook's arm twice. "Jungkook," he leaned into the maknae's face, to be heard over the yelling fans, "slow down."

Kook took a drink of water, still not responding to his elder.

"Go easy, slow down," Namjoon repeated. "You'll pass out." He stood, looking around, his eyes wide. The look in his eyes hurt me, every part of my broken heart that had once been healed. It was desperate, helpless. Namjoon didn't know what to do and I knew he felt the responsibility hard on his shoulders. For once, our leader couldn't fix this, because Jungkook was noncommittal. And he wanted to warn the others not to make the same mistakes. "Don't overwork yourself!"

It was like that feeling when you're in a bad dream, and you want to run away. Away from the thing hurting you, or scaring you. But you can't. No matter how hard you try to move, you can't. There's no way out. Nothing you do will help. And I knew Namjoon's cries to keep his bandmates safe were the same way.

I gave him the same longing look. I felt helpless too.

The staff members were then onto him like bugs, ripping my brother away from me to fix him up for the fans. To not allow them to see a single speck of his suffering.

It was wrong.

Shouldn't the fans know what was happening? Shouldn't they know to stop their cheers, to stop celebrating Jugnkook's suffering for them? Shouldn't they not encourage him to keep going if it meant he was killing himself?

But then again, they didn't know. They didn't know their motivation to him was motivation to keep hurting himself.

"We have to go," Namjoon yelled, looking around to count the members dispersed among the countless staff around them. "We can do it, be careful though."

Jungkook stood, and off they went. The music was at a full stop, waiting for the boys to get in place onstage before 'Blood, Sweat, and Tears' started.

His performance was pristine, perfect, and if the fans couldn't cheer loud enough, it would be the last song of the night. It was the ending of the concert, and part of me wished they wouldn't be loud enough to call out an encore. The other part of me knew Chile wasn't going to let that happen.

The number ended, my breath being held the whole time. I listened to my earpiece to figure out where the boys were going to go while they prepped for the possibility of an encore when I heard the voice of the director. "Go on a respirator if it's too hard to breath, Jungkook."

That time I ran. I found him in a small chair surrounded by medical staff. His shirt was pulled off, his eyes once again shut and his breathing heavy. The last song had done nothing but hurt him further. A staff in a grey shirt and red cap was pulling his head to either side, stretching his neck. It was probably a move to get more air moving through his lungs. The ice bag crinkled as he placed it around his neck again.

"Jungkookie," I whispered, kneeling in front of him again. I gulped, turning around. Jimin was peeking in through the curtains, and Namjoon was making his way towards us. He already had his black t-shirt and pastel open button-down, his outfit for the encore.

I stood and turned to Namjoon. "Don't do it. An encore is optional. Don't let them do it. Don't let Jungkook go. The staff asked him if he needed a respirator-"

Namjoon made his way past me, getting closer to Jungkook. The same staff from earlier was back, fanning him, while another approached him with a respirator.

"Oh my gosh, don't tell me he needs it."

The staff sat in front of him, and got the plastic device ready to put up to his mouth.

"Hold his neck," he told Namjoon, but I did it instead. I watched as the plastic circle was pressed to Jungkook's face, around his lips. "And breath in," he told my brother. The air was audible as it passed through the container and into Kook's mouth. He sucked in the air, eyes closed and abdomen swelling as he did so. "Again, breath in. Okay." He stood as another staff member in the room announced, "One and a half minutes!"

"Jungkook, seriously. Slow down," Namjoon warned. His face was still stoic as he said so, concern welling in his eyes like tears.

"No, no," I said, turning to Namjoon. "Just don't let him go out there- don't let them continue with the encore, problem solved. Namjoon please, you guys don't have to do an encore, the fans can't expect you to-"

"Have we ever let the fans down?" Namjoon asked sharply, but not because he believed what he was saying. "When's the last time you saw us skip an encore?"

I was speechless. No, Namjoon didn't think that meant it was more important than Jungkook's health, but he was making a point. They were scheduled to keep going.

"Namjoon- that doesn't matter, look at Jungkook. He can't breath-"

"Are you okay?" Hoseok asked Kook above the bustle of the crowd outside and the staff in the room. I shook my head at him.

Jungkook's shirt was back on him, the black Wings tour one that matched mine. He was crouched over, letting a staff massage his neck continuously.

"If you're ready, go," the manager told the room, including the band members that were watching over Jungkook.

"We'll go first," Hoseok said, nodding to himself and turning to head back to the stage.

"Yeah, you go first."

"Jimin, let's go," his manager said.

"Hang in there a bit more," Hoseok told Jungkook before turning to head up the stage.

"One minute left!"

Before I could protest, Jungkook stood, walking as a stylist pulled his encore outfit jacket over his shoulders and escorted him down the stage. I wanted to tell him to stop. He shouldn't be doing it.

But he was. He was doing it for ARMY, even if it did, indeed, kill him.

I watched as Hoseok patted his back, walking out with him as they headed into the dark backstage. I heard the intro to 'You Never Walk Alone' start, and they were all gone. The crowd went wild above the stage again.

I turned away in tears, cupping my hand over my mouth. There he was, continuing on like nothing happened. A smile on his face, a hop in his step, his hands above his head, clapping along to the beat, and his eyes running across the rows of fans to greet them. And the worst part? They would never know the pain he was in. 

Hi lovely readers! I hope you're all doing well!

I lost my dear guinea pig this weekend but I'm doing alright!

Have a good week, see you next Monday!!

-Rose