Evaluation.

Another evaluation.

The news struck them like a tidal wave, leaving their hearts pounding with anxiety. It had barely been a fortnight since they first stepped foot in the recording studio, drunk on hopes and dreams. Yet here was their manager, shattering the idyll with word of an impending evaluation in just seven days' time.

Seven days. That was all they had to birth a song into the world. Seven sunrises and sunsets to distill the contents of their soul into musical form. The ticking of the clock echoed in their ears, each moment slipping through their fingers like grains of sand. They stared at one another, the weight of their task etched on furrowed brows. How were they to compose, write and produce a song worthy of their talent in such a short span? Their dreams hung in the balance. The future they imagined depended on the next week.

With trembling hands, they lifted their instruments. The time had come to pour the depths of their hearts into their craft. Seven days to prove themselves. Seven days to make magic.

Tears had streamed down the youngest trainee's cheeks as he buried his head in his hands. No one could blame him for crying - the poor boy was barely managing to juggle school and his intense trainee schedule. Each night, long after dance practice ended and homework was finished, he would lie awake, sobbing quietly into the early hours.

"How will I do this? How will I make it through?" he had whispered, voice cracking with despair. If only he had known the grueling demands of the survival show beforehand. Exhaustion and stress weighed heavily on his slender shoulders as he questioned his ability to continue. The heart-wrenching sobs of the young trainee echoed through the dorm, a poignant reminder of the immense pressure faced by those pursuing their dreams.

August 2020 shattered his dreams into dust. His passion was the lone ember burning within. After COVID stole precious family, his parents sent him away to find friends again.

They were right, for a moment.

Yet here he sat, scarcely two months into chasing his dream, tears streaming in the practice room once more.

"Daniel,"

Jaebom's honeyed tone called.

"It'll be okay."

Nothing had been okay since the survival show, a mistake. He was undeserving, the others brimming with talent - even Riki, a mere three months his senior.

Daniel's world lay in ruins, his passion the sole light piercing the darkness. COVID had stolen loved ones, exiling him in pursuit of new bonds. For a fleeting moment, it seemed right.

Yet dreams shattered mere months in, tears flowing freely in the practice room. Jaebom's syrupy voice offered hollow comfort. Nothing was okay - he didn't belong here. The others shone brilliant, outclassing him - even young Riki. Daniel's hopes collapsed, but his passion flickered on.

With a heavy sigh, Heeseung unfolded himself from the corner of the practice room and made his way over to the distraught boy. Settling down cross-legged beside Daniel, Heeseung watched as the younger trainee hastily wiped away tears with the backs of his hands, his sobs having dwindled down to the occasional hiccup. Though Heeseung knew Daniel was aware that he had caused yet another scene; he knew about the stringent terms and conditions laid out by the company, he could not help but feel a pang of sympathy for the boy. After all, Daniel was still so young, and the life of a trainee was nothing if not emotionally taxing.

Heeseung gently offered him a notebook, a place where they could bring their lyrics to life.

"Let's start jotting down our ideas instead of just sitting here and crying"

He suggested.

Though his words seemed a bit presumptuous, the trainees knew Heeseung only had their best interests at heart. As part of the Hyung Line, he felt responsible for guiding the younger members - making sure they completed their tasks, but also took time for themselves.

Right now, having personal time felt like a faraway dream.

The clock read 2:00pm. Only one verse lay scrawled on paper amidst the crumpled balls and scattered sheets that littered the practice room floor. Twenty-three boys huddled in tense silence, racking their brains for the lyrics that continued to elude them.

Koga surveyed the group, his chest tight. As the eldest, their struggle weighed heavily on him. He could feel the mounting frustration in the room, the creeping dread that they wouldn't have enough material for the performance. Time ticked on as pencils hovered over blank pages. The pressure built with each passing minute.

They were to work as a team to pass through the evaluation.

They couldn't argue like this.

Geonu felt the frustration rising in his chest as he yelled at Sungchul. The lyrics on the page were nothing but empty words, devoid of any real meaning or emotion. Sungchul just couldn't seem to tap into the heart and soul needed to bring their song to life.

Taki gripped Daniel's hand tightly, as if he could keep the youngest's anxieties at bay through touch alone. Daniel's breakdown still haunted him, and he was desperate to provide any comfort he could.

Koga's voice thundered through the room, silencing every chatter in an instant. All eyes turned to the furious boy, rage etched on his face.

"Everyone, quiet!"

Koga growled, his fiery gaze sweeping across each member.

"Every one of you will put pen to paper today. No exceptions."

Koga's words seethed with barely contained fury. His eyes blazed with determination as he met each person's stare, as if daring them to defy his command. The intensity of his emotion was palpable, charging the air with nervous tension. This was not a request, but an order that expected absolute obedience. He would tolerate no dissension. The time for writing had come, and he would have compliance at any cost.

"Can we take a small brea-"

Sunoo's words died in his throat as Koga's sharp "No" sliced through the air. He recoiled as if struck, eyes wide with shock and a hint of fear. This was not the Koga he knew.

Sunoo's gaze fell to the open notebook before him, where a haunting verse mocked his naive dreams:

I got pushed,
In front of the door of a dream I've been searching for, for a long time.
That little song inside me,
A little song brought me here.

His heart clenched as visions of the stage flashed before his eyes - the dream he had chased for so long now seemed to be crumbling around him. Nightmares stalked them all, sinking ruthless claws into their hopes. The darkness was suffocating.

He knew Koga didn't mean to hurt him, but the wounds bled all the same. Sunoo wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly feeling very small and very alone.

Koga's heart sank as he realized the damage he had done. Sunoo had always struggled to find his place among his peers. The cruel taunts and jeers had followed him for years, wearing down his spirit.

The tension in the room was palpable as twenty-two pairs of eyes bounced between them. Koga opened his mouth to speak, but the words died on his lips.

"Hyung, I'm feeling really tired right now," Sunoo said, his voice wavering with poorly concealed hurt. "I'm not sure I can keep going."

Koga knew it wasn't fatigue plaguing his friend, but homesickness. He could hear the quiver in Sunoo's voice, see the sheen of tears in his eyes.

Koga glanced at the clock. 3pm. They had less than a week left to create something extraordinary out of nothing.

The enormity of it all crashed down on him. He was only twenty-one. It was too much, too fast, too soon.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Koga longed to shelter his friend from the pressures and expectations weighing them both down. But the seconds continued to tick by, stealing their youth with each swing of the pendulum.

As Kyunmin trailed after the eldest, who had stormed from the room in stony silence, the others clustered around Sunoo in a gesture of solace.

"Let us simply strive to the utmost of our abilities," Jimin murmured in an attempt to raise Sunoo's spirits. "We have our producers to aid us."

Yet as Sunoo's's gaze fell upon the notebook, his mind rebelled, refusing to conjure any words. It was as if he had wandered into a desolate marshland, devoid of inhabitants, where even the wildlife seemed to mock his helplessness.

But he could not surrender.

He would not capitulate.

With trembling fingers, he grasped the pen and set it to paper.

Even if you're lonely, there's nowhere to lean on
Even though it's painful, without stopping
The meaning of just enduring the time
Now, after I met you
Only after holding hands did I realize the reason.

With a heavy heart, Hanbin carefully took the notebook from Sunoo's trembling hands. He looked down at the lyrics scrawled across the page, taking in each word as if it were a precious gem. Though the words were simple, they conveyed a profound sadness that resonated deep within Hanbin's soul. He slowly raised his eyes to meet Sunoo's expectant gaze. Unable to find the right words, Hanbin offered a bittersweet smile and a reassuring nod. The lyrics were perfect just as they were - a poignant outpouring of emotion from one hurting heart to another. Though the song was born of pain, Hanbin knew its melody would offer comfort and catharsis to many.

---♥---