The studio lights went out.
One by one, the staff left, carrying the thrill of a "historic broadcast." The host was still celebrating the exclusive interview. Fans were flooding social media with photos beside "Park Minsoo," and the livestream numbers were already exploding into millions.
To the world, it was perfection.
To Minsoo… it was a different kind of hell.
Inside his home, silence felt suffocating.
He staggered forward, drenched in cold sweat, his body trembling as if something inside him was breaking apart. His fingers clung to his phone, searching for a number he could barely see anymore—like it was the only thing keeping him from sinking.
His breathing was uneven. Shallow. Panicked.
"...Soohyun…"
His voice cracked.
On the other end, the reply came instantly—sharp with worry.
"Minsoo? Is it happening again?"
That single question was enough.
Minsoo shut his eyes tightly, but it didn't help. It never did.
"It won't go away…" he whispered. "Even when I close my eyes… it's still here. That blue bird… it's filling the room."
His voice rose suddenly, breaking.
"And that sound— I can't stand that music!"
A strangled breath escaped him.
"Why… why does it have teeth?!"
"Minsoo," Soohyun said firmly, grounding him. "Breathe. Just follow my voice. In… slow. Out… slow. I'm here. You're not alone."
But Minsoo was slipping.
"The smell…" he gasped. "Soohyun… I smell blood everywhere. Aren't you back yet? I'm I'm drowning in it."
Then
Warmth.
Arms wrapped around him from behind, pulling him into something real.
"Hemi…"
She held him tightly, steadying his shaking body like she could physically hold him together.
"You're safe," she whispered. "It's going to pass. It always does."
Minsoo's eyes trembled as he looked at her.
"It's getting worse…" he said hoarsely. "Every time it appears… it's closer. Taller."
Hemi cupped his face gently, forcing him to meet her gaze.
"Look at me," she said softly but firmly. "Only me. You're stronger than it. Don't listen to anything else."
Her voice lowered.
"This is not your fault, Minsoo. You hear me?"
For a moment… the chaos paused.
Not gone.
Just paused.
He eventually fell asleep—forced into it, as always.
Hemi stayed awake.
In the living room, she sat surrounded by pill bottles scattered across the table. Her hands trembled as she read the labels under the dim light.
Zolpidem. Olanzapine. Lorazepam.
Each name felt heavier than the last.
She pressed the phone to her ear.
"I gave him the dosage," she said quietly. "He's asleep now… but this is getting worse. You need to come back. Now."
Soohyun's voice was tired. Heavy.
"It's not just insomnia anymore," he said. "Minsoo has Complex PTSD. Dissociation. Psychotic episodes tied to childhood trauma… and with fame pressure on top of that, his mind is collapsing under everything."
Hemi closed her eyes.
"So what now?" she asked bitterly. "We just keep sedating him until he disappears completely?"
Silence.
Then
A low sound from the bedroom.
A groan.
Hemi stood up immediately.
The nightmare had returned.
She rushed to his room.
Minsoo was shaking violently in his sleep, trapped somewhere no one could reach. Hemi grabbed his hand, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, whispering his name again and again.
But his mind was already gone.
Inside his head
The film started again.
A child.
Too thin. Too small. Kneeling in filth.
Blood on his hands. Blood on his face. Hunger so deep it had erased everything human.
He was chewing something raw.
Something unrecognizable.
Tears mixed with dirt as his body trembled.
The image shifted.
Screams behind a locked door.
Heavy footsteps shaking the walls.
A blade catching the light.
Then
Red.
Too much red.
Minsoo jerked awake.
Gasping.
Choking on air that wouldn't come.
His chest rose and fell violently, like he had been running for hours.
He turned slowly toward Hemi.
"…How long was I asleep?" he asked in a hollow voice.
"It's dawn," she whispered.
A long silence.
Then he sat up, dragging in a shaky breath.
"I'm going for a run," he said. "By the Han River."
Hemi's eyes widened slightly.
He noticed.
And forced a weak smile.
"Don't worry," he added. "It doesn't come back that fast."
He left.
Cap low. Hoodie up.
The Han River was empty.
No voices. No crowds.
Just water… and silence.
But inside Minsoo's head, there was no silence.
Only noise.
Was he lucky?
That's what everyone believed.
Park Minsoo. Thirty years old. Famous. Rich. Loved. Surrounded by people who called themselves friends.
A perfect life.
Or
Was he just the most unfortunate man alive?
A prisoner of a childhood he could never remember clearly… and memories that refused to stay buried?
A lyric echoed inside him.
Not sung.
Suffered.
"The smell of blood fills the air… tightening around my throat… the world slipping through my fingers like a shadow that lost its owner…"
He stopped running.
Stared at the river.
His reflection wavered in the water.
Blue.
That same color.
His jaw tightened.
"I hate it," he whispered. "Blue…"
"It's not the sky anymore."
"It's a weight on my chest."
A feather.
A sound of wings.
A memory he couldn't hold—but couldn't escape either.
"I thought I found peace in your silence…" he murmured. "But I was wrong."
His hand trembled.
"You didn't save me…"
"You just made me believe I was safe… before I fell deeper."
He closed his eyes.
And for a moment
Even his breath didn't feel like his anymore.