Chapter Text
Tears.
Something Minho had always been told was a sign of weakness.
Crying meant you couldn't handle something, that you weren't strong enough to deal with it.
That's why he tried to keep other people from crying.
He hated seeing people be vulnerable and,"Weak."
That's why he never cried.
He broke his arm when he was 12, he bit his lip to hold back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He was not weak.
When he was told his grandmother had died while he was in Japan for the wings tour and feeling homesick, he refused to talk about it. He was not weak.
He might not have been weak but he wished he was empathetic.
During the show, there were many mental break downs, They hadn't even filmed the 3rd episode yet. Whenever his members cried, begging to be consoled, he couldn't help them.
All he could say was that they were weak.
But he knew it wasn't true, they were the strongest people he knew, going through traumas he couldn't have imagined.
And they all cried. At one point or another they cried.
Maybe he was weak.
That's what it was, he was weak and pathetic, and stupid. Stupid for believing the words that the world had driven into his head. For hiding his pain when he could've gotten help.
He didn't deserve to be there. A pathetic dancer who just made friends with the leader.
Those thoughts drove him through the episode at hand. Knowing that his stutter and the growing resentment of him by the CEO would be enough for JYP to give him what he wanted.
He kept a straight face as JYP said he was eliminated. It wasn't like he was trying to be eliminated, it was just fate telling him what he already knew.
He didn't deserve it.
Seeing the other members cry broke his heart, they shouldn't be crying over him.
"Don't cry". "Why are you crying". "Stop being upset" he would say repeatedly going to each member until their tears dried.
The ride back to the dorm was practically silent. They all knew this would be their last night together, and Minho would be left alone again.
He excused himself to the bathroom as soon as he stepped foot into their home.
Leaning against the locked door, finally, for the first time in his life.
He cried.
He cried for all the pain, the loss, missed chances, and anything else that had built up for the last 20 years of his life.
The hot tears seemed to never stop flowing from his eyes, but the realization that he had been sitting there for 20 minutes forced him to get up.
He looked awful, bloodshot eyes, smeared makeup, tears staining his white t-shirt, and his hair messed up from him gripping on it so hard.
Making himself look semi presentable he walked out of the bathroom and made a b-line for the room he shared with the 2 oldest.
The problem with that was the leader was already waiting for him.
"You look dead," Chan said looking at Minho worried.
"Might as well be," he scoffed.
"We will debut as 9," Chan said assuredly, holding his shoulders.
Minho shoved his arms away,"What if that's not what's best for you?"
"What makes you say that?" Chan tilted his head.
"I'm useless, you have 2 other dancers, and everyone can sing. I don't add very much," he said avoiding eye contact.
"If you didn't add very much I wouldn't have picked you. I don't know what made you think that but it's wrong."
"I'm so tired hyung," he said, tears threatening to spill again.
Chan hugged him,"think of this as some time for you to rest. Clear your head."
Minho nodded, maybe he just needed to sort himself out.
He had a lot more tears left to cry.