Archive of Our Own ^beta

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It wasn’t that Seungmin thought that nobody liked him; his sister would call on a Thursday sometimes and Chan and the other members always made sure that he was feeling positive about current and future plans. He knew that people cared about him, he just wasn’t sure that anybody loved him.

His older sister was always busy with her office job, the long hours expected of an intern meant that she was constantly run off her feet and didn’t have enough time to call or text her brother. Seungmin completely understood, having his own busy schedule to juggle but that was the only contact he had with his family, what with his parents being as uninterested in his idol career as they were in every other aspect of his life. They worked long hours too and it seemed as though, regardless of his extensive efforts, their son had never managed to do anything worth their time.

The company didn’t seem to be too invested in his future either, instead focussing on forging brand deals and relationships for the more popular members. It wasn’t like brands would be that interested in collaborating with Seungmin in the first place, his TikToks and fancams had the fewest views and only a small number of fans actually cared what he was up to. He knew he didn’t have the looks or the dancing ability of Hyunjin or Felix and could never even hope to be as charismatic as Chan or as funny as Minho or Changbin. He also didn’t have the cuteness factor that Han and Jeongin had so despite being younger than the former, he was never really seen as a proper maknae. He just didn’t have as much public appeal as the other members and he was okay with that, he just had to improve himself to make himself more marketable.

He knew he could sing, that’s why he joined the company in the first place, to become a singer of ballads and other epic genres. It was only down to convenience and perhaps his lack of individual appeal that he was put into a hip-hop group in the first place. The songs and fashion weren’t his style and this only made it harder to showcase and improve his natural talent. Even from the beginning, fans had said that Woojin was more talented, steadier, and even with Seungmin’s relentless work to refine his vocals, they never seemed to be a major talking point during comebacks. His voice was the only thing that he thought he could bring to the table, and it was rarely ever discussed anyway.

It was like he just stayed under everybody’s radar, inoffensive but dull and not worth any level of hype. Sometimes he envied Woojin, the boy had been through a lot while leaving the band which made Seungmin feel even guiltier for admitting to himself that he was jealous of how he was the talk of the fandom for so long and how people still seemed to remember him, an ex-member, more than Seungmin, who was still there. Seungmin who worked his vocal chords raw with practicing, who woke up exhausted everyday from trying to be there for the members. Always there, at every recording or photo session he was there, stood out of sight or crammed into the back of the picture unobtrusively.

People wouldn’t buy the posters if he was in the spotlight, wouldn’t watch music videos if he was the star, or enjoy behind the scenes if he talked too much. He wouldn’t be surprised if fans were disappointed to get his photo card; they spent hard-earned money on an album only to receive a photo of the ugliest member. He would be annoyed too.

As well as gushing fan letters, the other members always got excited phone calls or emails from their family, enthusiastically breaking down their favourite moments in MVs or stage performances. Seungmin’s sister on the other hand rarely called despite them hardly ever meeting up and when they did get a chance to speak, it was only ever about how his family were doing. The family that Seungmin hadn’t seen for years, other than during the odd holiday. His parents forbade him to discuss his work when at home, he supposed they were ashamed that he had tarnished the family reputation with his decided mediocrity and cheap career. They said that he was selling himself out, that he was in a classless and emasculating career meant to cater to children and obsessive creeps. Seungmin didn’t know why they were so worried, it wasn’t like he ever spoke to his extended family or family friends either so what could he possibly tell them. He wouldn’t get a chance to further humiliate them. Any relationship he had with his wider had been burnt after he started working with the company. He used to be close to one cousin in particular but had always been impossible to find any time to travel all those miles for a visit. He supposed that his cousin had forgotten about their childhood closeness but that friendship still meant a lot to the singer, especially now that he felt so isolated in his life choices.

He’d considered leaving like Woojin, finding his freedom alone, but knew that he lacked the panache and mental fortitude required to carve out one’s own path in the industry. He would likely flop within months and lay broken and defeated among the pile of every other failed artist, alone and forgotten. He couldn’t do that, couldn’t give up the way he felt when he saw how his group’s music had positively affected someone, when the hard work of months all came together into a polished song. Although he knew that he wasn’t deserving of these feelings, wasn’t good enough to share these moments with his members, he was still selfish and would hold onto them with both hands for as long as he could manage.

And that’s how he survived, he supposed, he clung onto people’s pity and kindness. Chan and Felix would usually be the only ones to invite him to days or evenings out and now that he looked at it, Seungmin could see that it was only out of their own selfless charity that he even got to be part of group activities. Any stricter leader would have kicked him out years ago, any less patient group would have stopped inviting him places when he almost exclusively answered that he was planning on saying a little longer to practice. He was surprised that his sister even still bothered to call occasionally, she had a proper, respectable career ahead of her. A bright future where she would shine and be admired for her talent and dedication, not left in the background and taken advantage of by her company.

He lived in the shadow of his group, moving silently in the background, cleaning up messes and picking unappealing chores in a desperate attempt to demonstrate his devotion. He was too quiet, too introverted to do anything flashy or make a declaration of his appreciation and commitment. To step up would be severely out of character and would likely result in humiliation and regret, so instead he follows behind them, envious of the casual affection and closeness held between all the other bandmates. He wasn’t special like them, wasn’t energetic and boisterous, he didn’t live every second to the max or collect admiring fans. He wasn’t destined for greatness. He wasn’t destined for anything, and they all knew it. They all danced around the truth, the fact that Seungmin wasn’t exciting or handsome or talented enough to make his mark and would inevitably end up in the group of industry rejects he dreaded so much. But he couldn’t change his future, he struggled and thrashed in the cold grips of fate but at the end of the day he was still just waiting to be forgotten.

Chapter Text

Jeongin knew that something wasn’t right, the spirited and passionate Hyung he’d once known had seemed to disappear behind a newer, colder Seungmin who didn’t dance with the same bounce in his step or hold the same precious light in his eyes when he smiled. Seungmin didn’t listen to his depressingly yearnful ballads in the dorms anymore or spend his evening scribbling down lyrics and concepts for slower paced love songs. He didn’t sit curled up in a blanket, disgustingly sappy face illuminated by the screen as he enjoyed yet another romantic drama. He still smiled, still laughed and most certainly still made fun of the members, he just seemed sharper, more cynical when doing so.

Jeongin had always found himself to be quite inciteful and as he and Seungmin were particularly close, he felt the need to bring up the change in the other maknae. If there even was a change, sometimes Jeongin managed to convince himself that he was imagining it and overthinking the situation just like every other aspect of his life. What if he brought it up to the others and Seungmin was really just fine? He’d waste everybody’s time when they were all so busy and Seungmin would be embarrassed, he just knew it. The boy loved affection and attention as much as the rest of them, it was part of why he was an idol, but it always seemed as though he was waiting for those watching to turn their backs on him and criticise him for making even the slightest mistake. If Jeongin brought up to everybody that Seungmin was different, they would inspect him even more closely and Seungmin would likely feel judged or overly babied.

He was a complicated man. He needed his space but simultaeneously needed reminders from the members that he was appreciated and cared for. He needed routine and structure but was often bored by the monotony of his day to day life. He yearned for attention but sometimes shied under the weight of it. Mostly the members found it adorable and Seungmin was incredibly proficient at recognising what he needed from the others and letting them know. But what if Seungmin didn’t reach out? Jeongin was pretty certain that the boy could conceal a murder from him if he wished, so how could he possibly identify if he needed something? And even then, how could he identify what specifically it was? Seungmin had always done right by him in his own way and Jeongin couldn’t stand the thought that the boy might be suffering alone and in silence.

With a new comeback in the works (wasn’t there always?), he decided to keep his concerns private and closely watch Seungmin in the subtlest way that he could manage.

Chan wanted to add a new song to the album and he wanted it to have a different vibe to the others in order to provide some variety and appeal to a wider audience of Stays. Normally Seungmin wouldn’t let the moment pass without taking a moment to slightly grouchily remind the group that he wanted to do a song with a little more melodrama. He would probably make a joke out of it, something about how he wasn’t sure whether he’d mentioned it before but that he might be interested in a more romantic piece. Chan would then, after chuckling, put it more seriously to the group. One way or another, whether it was because there wouldn’t be enough parts for all the members or because it didn’t really suit their production style, the idea would be shot down. Seungmin would be disappointed but understanding and the conversation would move on. That would usually happen.

Except Seungmin didn’t even look up from where he was fiddling with his fingers in his lap, he didn’t even hum a note of understanding with the others. Instead he fell into the silence of contemplation- whether he was considering the same matter as the group or something entirely different, Jeongin couldn’t sus, but surely this was a bad sign. He looked around and although Chan has glanced at Seungmin, perhaps anticipating his input, all the other members went about their pondering without any visible concern. Maybe it was fine and Seungmin was just a little drained or had realised that it was unlikely he would ever get his ballad.

The rest of the day passed and Jeongin observed the same apathy in his friend. He determined to raise his concerns to Seungmin later, when they were alone, so that he could avoid calling unwanted attention. He loved Seungmin and if it turned out that he was wrong, he would accept that but he deeply wished to cheer the other boy up.

He brought it up after dinner, Seungmin had spent the whole meal poking at the food with a vacant expression on his face, just as he had at lunch. He still wasn’t convinced that this was a good idea and was pretty hesitant when he slowly turned to the boy on the sofa next to him. “Seungmin hyung?”

“Hmm yeah?” he answered, roused from his thoughts at last. “Are you feeling okay? I thought that maybe you seemed a little bit down, has something happened?” Jeongin thought that perhaps he was being too bold and scratched his neck to try and ease the tension in the room. “No. Am I underperforming?”

“Not at all,” he rushed to say “you just haven’t spoken much.”

“I’ll try to be more outgoing, please stop worrying about it.”

And that was that, Jeongin had blown it, or had he? Seungmin had never lied about his emotional needs before and he was difficult to read afterall. He said that he was fine, Jeongin had not prrof for the contrary and he wanted to respect his friend’s wishes. So, he dropped it.

Seungmin hadn’t lied to Jeongin, he was fine, and nothing had happened. Maybe that was the problem, nothing had happened, his sister hadn’t called recently and had rejected the call when he had tried to call her.

It wasn’t a problem though, she was busy and had bigger priorities than listening to her little brother talk about his silly job. He was old enough to manage himself and didn’t need others checking up on him constantly. It was a useful chat though, he needed to work on his engagement. The group deserved somebody who would participate more, who was funnier in videos and more uplifting at practice. He could do that: he could be more entertaining.

It wasn’t enough though, he still read the comments under posts, still noticed the disappointment on fans’ faces, still saw the other members working tirelessly to pick up his slack.

‘Seeing Hyunjin and Seungmin next to each other is so jarring’

‘I know right, he’s such a visual whole it’s almost funny’

‘It’s not funny, Seungmin drags down the rest of Skz and ruins their reputation’

‘Not really imo, nobody even knows who he is enough to have him taint the others’ image’

He’d found his way deep into the comments of another old video, for some reason drawn to the chains which would hurt his feeling the most. It was ridiculous, if he didn’t want to hear what fans thought he should just avoid them but somehow, he couldn’t, he needed to know what they thought was bad. This tim it was his looks. He knew this already and had compiled a list of surgeries that would make him more attractive. He hadn’t gone through with it though, telling himself that he didn’t want to attract a plastic surgery scandal to the group. It was actually because he was scared; scared or changing the face that he poked and prodded in the mirror each night, photoshopped in secret to see how he might make himself more marketable. He was terrified that he wouldn’t be able to recognise himself, that his family’s facial features would be erased like chalk and then he would have no claim to them at all. No family that he was clearly part of, no history. He feared that it would make him lonelier, without the visual tether to his relatives, what did he actually have of them? Certainly not their affection or approval.

He was ugly and he knew that he should fix it, but he was too weak. The members and fans deserved better, somebody with dedication and fewer nonsensical sentimentalities.

He brought up surgery with management that evening.

He woke up the next morning with a pounding headache, management had told him that the schedule was too busy to accommodate a surgery right now, that it would be obvious and attract criticism.

They hadn’t said that he shouldn’t do it. They hadn’t said that his face was just fine as it is, that he shouldn’t try to fix what wasn’t broken.

He didn’t know why the slight hurt him so much, he knew they were right. But in some ways, he was angry that they thought him so pathetic; surely at least the company, the very people who had chosen him for this group, thought he wasn’t a complete waste of space. Else why would they have put him in the group? Had they set him up for failure on purpose? He chuckled lightly to himself as he considered the idea that he was some kind of sacrifice to the mediocrity gods, somebody to be denounced and vilified so that the others could go on shining without hate form the public. He was the plain background that made the main colours that much more vibrant.

He’d worked up all that will to ask to improve himself and still it seemed as though he would ever be able to do anything right, he had been shooed away and asked to think his ideas through more carefully in the future before wasting company time. Obviously, this was something that he would have to handle by himself.

Chapter Text

Felix just didn’t understand why Seungmin was being so stubborn, he would usually always sit and watch a film with him. Or he would observe Felix making brownies- he used to try and help but every time the two cooked together it was a disaster.
But now it seemed as though he couldn’t stand to be near the boy: he practically ignored him in group settings, instead sitting quietly in a corner. It was even worse in the dorms, any time Felix asked the maknae to hang out, he would politely but firmly decline and then march resolutely into a different room to be alone.
Felix was inclined to think that he had somehow upset the boy, except Seungmin was usually upfront about things that were bothering him. The only logical explanation seemed to be that Seungmin just wasn’t in the mood, and that was okay by Felix, everybody had their off days. But it was constant, every day he’d make some excuse for himself during their chill time and Felix would be left without him. Felix became afraid that he had said or done something wrong, but if Seungmin didn’t want to explain and make the effort, why should he be chased to? It wasn’t as if Felix was lonely, all the members were happy to spend time with him, it was just odd that the other wasn’t there when Felix wanted to gush about a show or ask for a sensitive but totally objective review of a new recipe. It hurt that the younger no longer wanted to spend time with him and it hurt that he didn’t even feel the need to explain why.

The others didn’t need to know though, as far as they were concerned, all was fine and dandy between the two and Felix didn’t feel particularly inclined to clarify the situation. Seungmin didn’t like being hassled and the group would definitely start asking questions if they knew that Felix had been hurt. Sometimes the maknae needed space and Felix would respect that even if he was a loss as to why. Even if it made him question the quality of his company and whether any of the members actually wanted to spend time around him or if it was all just sympathy.

Seungmin usually spent a significant portion of his evening with Felix, now that he’d withdrawn from that, he found himself with much more time.
He treasured the times where Felix would practically talk his ear of, naturally counteracting Seungmin’s more quiet nature. He missed talking about English shows that Felix introduced him to and practicing his language skills. He missed the companionable silence that they would fall into before Felix nodded off on the sofa.
But he needed the time.
He spent the first half an hour of his alone time searching out critical comments, mentally tallying what they thought he should improve so that he could prioritise effectively. Everybody knew that good idols listened not only to the positive feedback but the more constructive comments too.
He wasn’t searching out painful remarks, just surveying the public response. So far he’d discovered that people had quite a thing about his singing being nasally and subpar considering his position as main vocalist- he’d bring it up with his vocal coach.
They also thought he was lazy for not dying his hair more interestingly- he could change that next comeback.
Some people were saying that he was ugly- he already had plans for that.
What worried him more was that fans were calling him fat and Jeongin thought that he was boring- that was going to take a bit more work. He would have to cut out sugary foods, idols’ looks were their jobs and Seungmin was compromising that by polluting his body with junk food and sweets.
Maybe he should also reduce his portion sizes slightly, he was practically the only member that didn’t lift after all so he should really try to lean in to being the more slender, non-muscled one.
He spent the rest of his time making plans like these, he would research styles, diets and performance techniques that could improve his impression for STAYs. He did some more photoshopping of what he thought he should look like and made an action plan for getting there.
He didn’t know how to stop being boring, at the end of the day he had always just been himself and that obviously wasn’t cutting it. Hopefully if he optimised every other area of his performance, his lack of charisma would become insignificant. That meant that he couldn’t afford to be lack-lustre with anything else.

Felix didn’t seem to be happy with him about their missing quality time together but he didn’t know about the bigger plan. Once Seungmin’s hard work started paying off, Felix would be grateful that he no longer had such a massive let down in his group. If Seungmin mentioned his intentions, he would only look more pathetic if he failed. And so, the diet, increased exercise and extra practice began in secret.

The new sense of purpose invigorated him, he would wake up earl to go for a run, have a small, healthy breakfast and then begin his knew skincare routine during his shower. He had never had issues with his skin but that only meant that if he lost that merit, he would become even less appealing to fans.
He had to fight to keep whatever good features he had and longer days and less sleep meant that he would be more at risk of breakouts or dull skin. He would guasha his face to reduce the puffiness he’d seen pointers about. He’d go all out on his practices and write down his feedback from members and staff to work on at a later time. He would eat a lunch just big enough to maintain his peak performance and stay late to work out any kinks in his dancing or singing before fitting in a last cardio session in the studio and walking home. He couldn’t use the gym because some of the others were usually in there.
They couldn’t see him, he didn’t know why, he wasn’t doing anything wrong, but for some reason he felt guilty about it.

Back at the dorms, he’d take a quick nap before eating a small dinner with the members and the beginning his nightly ritual of surveying and planning. He’d spend his time preparing for bed, prodding and pulling at his body in the mirror, weighing himself and stretching, ready to do it all again the following day.

He slept fitfully, constantly overturning the comments he had read and the surgery timelines he was planning. It would have to be subtle, would he even have to tell the members?
Somehow, even acknowledging that he was a failure out loud went against all the prior years of pretence when nobody ever brought up his incompetence. His reflection of this stage in his group’s timeline would often become angry, what purpose did the others think they were serving by not even letting him know what an abject failure he was? What had he thought that he was doing before, simply wallowing in self pity and not taking any action to improve himself?
He felt better now, slightly less guilty and far more aware of everybody’s discontent with him. Who knew what the others were saying about him behind closed doors? It hardly mattered, soon there would be nothing negative they could possibly bring up, he would fix it all.

Chapter Text

What the hell did Seungmin think he was playing at?
Leaving Lix hurt without even a reason as to why. He had always been one of the less social members but this was getting ridiculous now. Nobody in their right mind would opt out of spending time with Felix; he was sunshine personified, so light and bouncy yet at once gentle and calm when required.
He was everything that Han strived to be on the days when he didn’t feel like curling into a ball and hiding under his duvet forever. He was an idol among idols and the idea that Seungmin thought that he could possibly be too good for him was ludicrous.
Maybe the others hadn’t noticed, but on the evenings when Felix asked Han to sit with him now, his usually radiant smile was cracked.
Something was wrong.
The shine in Felix’s eyes had become less bright and began to more closely resemble tears. Usually Felix would spend his more fragile moments with Minho or Seungmin, the quieter members who were more than happy to sit in silence or spend their time listening to or advising Felix rationally. Minho was still there, but every time somebody mentioned Seungmin’s absence, the sweet boy brushed it off and changed the subject.
Strange.
He never gave a reason why Seungmin didn’t do brownie nights or romcoms with him anymore, suggesting that Felix himself wasn’t aware of the reason.

And yet he let it go in typical Felix style, he let the younger boy get away with leaving him and hurting his feelings, likely because he didn’t want to cause him any trouble. Little did he know that Seungmin was practically asking for this trouble and that whatever reason he could have for abandoning Felix couldn’t possibly be good enough. Nobody should be able to walk over and abuse such a charitable soul.

Han barged into the younger’s room, ready to give him a piece of his mind confrontation style. He could do this for Felix, after seeing the boy curl into Minho’s side sadly, the rage coursing through Jisung’s veins had powered his muscles, almost without his mind’s input, and carried him all the way to Seungmin’s room.
He didn’t bother knocking this time, instead slamming open the door and opening his mouth before taking in the scene before him. The other boy was curled up on his side, scrolling mindlessly through his phone with a detached look on his face.
He didn’t even look up at the intrusion.
“Pathetic,” whispered Han before turning on his heel and slamming the door abruptly. He had half expected the boy to at least be doing something productive, but scrolling through social media? Pointless and a shameful way to replace Felix’s company.
He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t started a fight, perhaps he should have given the boy a right scolding and demanded that he apologise to Lix. But there was something in the back of his mind, easing the rage and telling him that sure, Felix was upset for now but he deserved more than this in the long run. He would heal and then he would be stronger and better supported without somebody as flimsy and flaky as Seungmin pretending to support him. It wasn’t even worth the fight- if Seungmin didn’t care to spend time with somebody as bright as Lix, that was fine by Han, he didn’t deserve to anyway. This didn’t prevent Han from being mildly hostile at every opportunity. He would slam doors, despite knowing Seungmin didn’t like it, and purposefully skip Seungmin when he did his good night and good morning rounds through the room. If Seungmin wanted to isolate himself from the members, Jisung would let him, and show him just how lonely it would be.

Seungmin knew that Han was angry at him, he couldn’t tell why, but then again it didn’t really matter: once he finished perfecting himself, there would be nothing to be angry about any more.
The plan was going well, if with a few modifications. He realised that he could cut his weight faster if he skipped breakfast all together and took macha tea as a snack instead of food. He would practice his dance in the mirror alone and keep drilling it until he perfected the move. He had been experimenting with new smiles so that he could appease the fans who thought his original grin was scary. However, after reviewing the comments of recent videos, it didn’t seem to be working.
The issue seemed, fundamentally, not to be with his method of smiling but more so his teeth and facial structure. He was inclined to agree but other than not smiling, there wasn’t much that he could do about that until his surgeries started to be approved.
Until then, he settled for brushing his teeth before and after every meal, as well as during the day if he began to feel unclean. He’d found some new comments in some of their older videos, complaining that his face was wonky. After some research he began to sleep on his back- it wasn’t comfortable, he had only ever been able to sleep in one position before, splayed out on his front, cheek smooshed against the pillow but it was supposed to even out the fat distribution on his face.
In the end it was always raw exhaustion that pushed him over the edge into sleep. He’d wake up early the next day and find himself back in his favourite sleeping pose, swearing to himself that he would push himself extra hard that day in order to make up for his failure.

That was the way it always seemed to go, he would push himself harder and harder in repentance of his constant disappointments.
It was paying off though. His weight was dropping rapidly due to his fast metabolism and hard work, and his performances were becoming cleaner. He felt lighter. He supposed that he was, but that wasn’t the point, he felt cleaner and unweighted down by his previous laziness. He felt as though he was cleansed and finally doing something right by himself and the world. He could drive his jumps higher and rap faster, a new pride that he hadn’t felt before powering him onwards.

Every day he had to do a little bit more to chase this high, eat a little less and push a little harder, but it was always worth it. If he passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow, he knew that he had done well and he was rewarded with an untroubled, albeit too short night of rest, where comments couldn’t haunt him due to sheer exhaustion.

Felix was upset so he worked harder, Han was angry so he stayed longer after practice. The negativity pouring off of his members was fuelling his motivation. It was still starting to fall short though. His face was leaner, his cheeks less chubby and his body slimmer. The scale told him that he was lighter. But so did his head. It started to become a little hazy, his memory declined and his balance was thrown off. He took longer to stand up each day, having to steady himself on something solid for the fear of toppling over. He wasn’t unhealthy though, he was just a little tired and it barely affected his performance.
Or so he thought.

Food started to become unappealing, not that he was complaining, it certainly made reducing his portion sizes easier. Unfortunately, it also made him queasy after eating and when he was with the members, he had to concentrate hard on not looking nauseous or, God forbid, throwing up. Everything either tasted of dust or the flavour was so overwhelming and gross that Seungmin felt inclined to spit it back out.
When the members went out for a meal together and he had to eat big portions to avoid looking like a picky brat, the food sat heavily in his stomach and all he could think about was how he would make it up with fasting and exercise in the following days. Luckily, nobody could see the regret and panic thrashing behind his eyes and he did as he usually did, flew under the radar, sat back and watched, let the others have the spotlight.
Soon he would be able to share that spotlight, that fame and adoration, and it would make up for all of the years when he had let them down, when he had hung back, an unloved backdrop on which his members and sister looked so much more impressive. Seungmin would deserve their fans love.
He would be able to run with them, not stumble behind, constantly apologising for is blunders and struggling to pick up whatever the other members dropped. Once he was a star, he could go back to living the life he enjoyed with his friends and his sister would finally call him back.

Chapter Text

Seungmin was letting himself go, Changbin could tell. He would spend a lot of time couped up in his room or waiting in the studio to leave with the others. He obviously wasn’t sleeping well because he looked tired every morning and chose to take naps during valuable daylight hours to replace that. He picked at the nutritious meals Minho prepared for them all so was obviously snacking on junk food and sweets behind closed doors. He wouldn’t even have the protein bars at practice, instead opting for teas. Changbin had been the same once, neglectful of his diet and unmotivated to work out.

Seungmin seemed glued to his phone and the older boy just knew that regular exercise would be able to trigger him into feeling more positively about life. Working out releases serotonin and would encourage him to eat more healthily.

Tiredness from hard work instead of late nights looking at his screen would improve his sleep schedule and also mean he spent more time with his members; he had been isolating himself quite a lot recently.

He had been thinking it for a while, but the boy’s health was definitely declining, he was more out of puff after dance practices and seemed almost dizzy after sudden movements. He was wearing baggier clothes than ever, even in performances and Changbin could imagine that he was feeling insecure about being so slender, just as he himself had around the time of their debut.

It would be almost therapeutic if he could be the one to guide Seungmin through his fitness journey, helping him on the journey to becoming more confidant that he himself had once undertaken.

He’d been waiting for months for Seungmin to ask- he didn’t want to push- but they boy’s habits just became worse and he somehow managed to become even skinnier.
But he realised that he really had to do something when Seungmin nearly collapsed.
The group had been given a shorter lunch break than usual but had decided to go out for a meal to keep people energised during their long day. Seungmin had gone to the toilet and Han, who for some reason seemed annoyed by the younger maknae, had decided that they ought to start walking towards the vans if they wanted to make it into town in time for a nice lunch.

Han, Felix, Minho and Jeongin went in the first van and Chan and Hyunjin were too busy talking to the driver of their van to notice Seungmin emerging from the building. He glanced around before spotting them and began jogging, evidently picking up on the urgency of leaving quickly. Changbin watched as he ran feebly towards the van, coming to a halt and swaying dangerously into the van.
He rushed forward to support the boy, gripping his bony shoulder and surprisingly slender waist in order to keep him from toppling. Seungmin smiled up at him gratefully from where he still hunched, trying and failing to catch his breath.

Sure, they had just had dance practice, but Seungmin was a young man in his prime, and a short jog like that should not have winded him and left him dizzy.

It was frankly concerning.

He brought it up later that evening as Seungmin finally emerged from the bathroom, “You should come to the gym with us some time,” he suggested.

“Why?”

“I don’t want to sound rude but you could hardly run 100m to the van today, you need to build up some proper muscle.”

Seungmin seemed to consider the offer but then said “I go to all the dance practices and I sometimes go for runs.”

“First of all, you obviously don’t run very often after your stunt today and secondly, your frame could so with some muscle, don’t you think? STAY would love it.”

Although reluctantly, Seungmin eventually took up the offer, the promise of a positive reaction from STAY was what he used to convince the boy but that wasn’t really why Changbin had brought it up, it was more out of concern for his friend’s mental and physical health.

God, Changbin was such a good idol. He was so considerate of STAY that he was even willing to help Seungmin if it meant that it would please their fans.

He was so selfless that way, in the way that Seungmin would never be, could never be.

But could Seungmin do this? He’d never really been super interested in building big muscles and he knew that weight lifting was hard work. He hardly had the energy for his current day, how would he manage another intense work out?

Changbin would also want him to start having the protein shakes and plain chicken breasts that the other gym-goers ate. He couldn’t see a way of getting out of that easily but it would disrupt his weight loss plans a lot and stop him from skipping any meals.

Also, he was trying to get thinner, how would putting on muscle help? Surely he would just look fatter, and then STAY would be mad. How could he win?

Apparently, some fans wanted him to be more muscular but he had seen loads of fans that called him chubby and fat. He would have to let someone down and he really didn’t see a way of saying no to Changbin now that he had agreed. But he also couldn’t stand to give up all of the hard work that he’d put in to becoming skinnier.

He felt trapped.

Changbin came into the boy’s dorm early the next day. Seungmin was already up and dressed after his morning run and was now sipping on his water and eating some ice.
Changbin gave him an odd look for that but chose to focus mainly on the fact that Seungmin hadn’t yet prepared a water bottle or anything for the gym session.

In all honesty, Seungmin hadn’t been aware that there as a gym session in the mornings, certainly none of the members in his dorm went to it. But here Changbin was, hurrying him through his packing and then ushering him out to the car.

The gym at the JYPE was pretty large, it was private and only idols were aloud to use it so it was almost empty. Seungmin silently thanked whatever higher power felt like listening.
He didn’t want any videos surfacing of his knobbly knees wobbling under heavy weights. On the other hand, maybe STAY would find it cute.

It would make him look dainty and willowy like they wanted.

The others began setting up equipment and told Seungmin that he could go easy on the weights today as he was new to it. Another small blessing, he supposed.

Still, he struggled through the work out.
He was out of breath almost instantly but pushed through until Chan decided that he should take a rest due to his sorry state.

He didn’t feel nearly as embarrassed as he thought he would as he took his break and sipped at his water, he had pushed himself and not stopped until forced to, he smiled, in fact, at his own dedication.

Perhaps this could be a good thing. He was certainly burning a lot of calories and if he could just avoid as much of their ‘health food’ as possible than maybe this would help his weight loss.

Changbin asked whether Seungmin would prefer to join their evening session but Seungmin felt more stable in the mornings before the hard work of dance practice and decided that he would stick with the am session because he was less likely to faint.

He hadn’t missed the look of concern that Chan and Chanbin shared when he could barely lift the warm up weight but he wasn’t too worried, that meant that his hard work was showing.

Due to his diet, he was beginning to lose some of what little muscle he had to begin with. Maybe he could build up a little bit of muscle as well, just so that he still looked manly enough for STAY and they didn’t have to see his knobbly bones.

The end of each gym session left him exhausted and with much less energy left for dance practice. He dodged the protein shakes and joint breakfasts whenever possible which only left him feeling worse.
Not only was he frail and spindly, he was avoiding spending time with his members, his only real friends in the world.

He felt just alone as he had when he started improving himself, if not more so, even now that he was approaching his newest goal weight. He still saw negative comments and his members still didn’t come and see him in his room. It was as though they were happy that he had withdrawn from social times, he knew that Han was at least.

He still had the surgery in the works and he had his first consultation coming up so the ball was finally rolling.

Days passed in a blur, his brain too exhausted and riddled with worries about public opinion on his recent projects to fully process what was happening.

Everything snapped into focus once more, however, when Minho pulled him aside angrily at the end of a dance rehearsal, face like thunder.

Chapter Text

Seungmin was a good dancer, Minho didn’t care what some hateful fans said; he had a clean style and a great bounce in his step that made him refreshing to watch.

Even if he wasn’t the strongest natural dancer in the group, his dedication to improvement and the hard work he put in during practice ensured that he kept up easily and usually perfected the choreo at the same time as, if not before, some of the better dancers.

Lately that had all stopped, the boy moved through each routine as if in a daze and grew frustrated with himself despite not ever working on what was going wrong.
He would repeat his mistakes, over and over, without any actual improvement and eventually give up, noting his failure in a notebook he kept to the side. Weak spots rarely saw improvement though, and his whole performance was sluggish and heavy.
He didn’t actually heed Minho’s advice, just wrote it down to make it look like he cared.

Something had gotten in to the boy, and although Minho had given him a few months to sort it out, his presentation was only becoming worse.

It was beginning to affect the formations and appearance of the whole group and even if Seungmin did just fine in actual performances, Minho couldn’t let the day to day laziness fly any longer.

It would catch up with the group eventually and it was Minho’s responsibility to keep things together on the dance front.

“Seungmin-ah,” he pulled him off to the side as the group trailed out towards their individual schedules.

He was resolute about this, with steel in his eyes and iron in his voice.
“I need you to be more focused at practice. Your effort has dropped and it’s affecting the whole group’s productivity.
“You can’t seem to keep up and I can’t help but think that it’s because you’re not pushing yourself each day as you should be.”

The body in front of him looked shell-shocked.

He shouldn’t have. Surely this couldn’t be a surprise to him.

“If you’re too tired for this than you should stop going to the gym with Changbin, but I can’t have this laziness in practice.”

Having said his piece, Minho waited for a reply from the boy. Looking into his eyes, he could see confusion sitting heavy as the primary emotion but hiding behind it was resignation- he knew deep down he was in the wrong.

Good.

More confusingly, Minho thought that he could read panic and indecision; he hadn’t intended to be mean but Seungmin needed to hear that he couldn’t continue with this subpar act any longer.

Still, seeing such emotions and knowing he was the cause pulled at a vulnerable heart string he thought had become tougher after years in the spotlight. He wasn’t cruel, he was honest and had a dry sense of humour. He knew that. He knew it to be the truth but the guilt and shame still gnawed at him and old insecurities bared the ire teeth.

Maybe he was too harsh, often branded as mean by antis and called bitchy by acquaintances.

He never meant to come across that way, he only wanted to be straight forward about the road to success from his perspective as a dancer.

But now he could detect hurt in the younger boy’s eyes, he was looking at him like he was confused and scared.
As if Minho was being cruel and he himself hadn’t just been butchering choreography for the past few months.

And then his expression shuttered, his apparent ‘hurt’ switching off as though a button had been pressed and he had stopped trying to make Minho feel guilty.

He had been trying to manipulate him, knowing how it would affect the elder.

And he had thought they were friends.

“Okay hyung.”

And then he walked off. No, they certainly didn’t seem to be friends any more.

How could Minho think that he was being lazy?

Sure, he was tired, but could the older boy not tell that he was throwing everything he had into his dancing? He didn’t want to disappoint anybody especially his first close friend in JYPE, but he couldn’t possibly see how he could quit a single thing in his schedule.

His workouts after practice and his morning runs were part of his routine now, he couldn’t let them go.

He needed his dance for his job, and Changbin would be so disappointed if he stopped going to the gym with him in the mornings. Maybe he just needed to sleep more…

A voice in the back of his mind was telling him that perhaps he also needed to eat more to improve his performance, but that too was part of his weight loss programme and everything else would be pointless if he let himself stuff his face with calories.

So, he would sleep more, he couldn’t keep letting everybody down and he was starting to feel exhausted; every day it took more and more willpower to get up in the mornings and not just lay rotting in bed for all eternity.

Every time he stood up quickly, he would have to fight harder to remain upright. His breathing always felt heavier and more intensive. Each time he fell down in practice or alone, he felt heavier and heavier to his deteriorating muscles despite the fact that he could see the numbers dropping on the scale.

Maybe he should stop trying to get up and instead wait to see how long it takes somebody to notice…

And then it hit him: perhaps instead of just doing cardio in the evening, he could do extra dance practice at the studio. That way he would be using his exercise to squeeze in even more extra work.

Two birds with one stone.

It was perfect and it gave him his first high in a while knowing that he wouldn’t have to disappoint anyone anymore.

That evening, after his last vocal practice in the schedule, he made his way back to the dance studio as per usual.

He had been thinking all day about this practice and how he would start improving his dance, how he would divide up his time before the members came to get him after coming back from the gym.

He worked through all the songs that they would be doing in their next performance, giving absolutely everything he could manage to each move so as not to appear lazy.

He tried to look objectively at his movements and criticise as a fan would.

His focus narrowed to a single point, his dancing, and time slipped away.
He stopped occasionally for water but made the most of the break times by thinking about his next run through or stretching to remain limber.

Before he knew it, the light that shone through the studio windows was gone, replaced by the deep blackness of night.

Caught up in some vortex of time, Seungmin continued dancing, his legs weak and lungs burning, he wouldn’t stop until the others made him or he reached perfection.

He knew which would come first.

Except neither happened.

Finally, his legs gave out and he sagged against a mirror, his water bottle was empty and he hadn’t brought any food.
Unable to get back to his feet he allowed the sound of the AC and the cool mirror against his back to lull him into unconsciousness.

He woke to the sound of voices outside the studio door, it was light outside and Seungmin was curled up on himself on the hardwood floor, his back aching and mouth dry from thirst.

After wading through the fog of disorientation and exhaustion in his mind, he concluded that that must be the trainees outside.

He climbed to his feet carefully, the floor seemed such a long way away and a terrible distance to fall.

His stomach rumbled loudly, he’d managed to miss dinner completely yesterday, at least. He must be super empty if his stomach was protesting- it seemed to have given up trying to let him know anymore, he’d only ignore it.

Every muscle in his body ached and his joints creaked as though he was a pensioner and not in his early twenties.

His head spun and his eyes and mouth felt dry. Ears ringing and balance thrown off, he somehow made his way through the corridors of the company without being noticed.

His phone was out of battery and he pondered half heartedly what time he had finally passed out, it must have been into the early hours of the morning because he couldn’t have gotten more than three hours sleep.

As he walked back to the dorms, Seungmin wondered whether the members had even noticed that he wasn’t there.

Had they not come to collect him from the studio?

Usually he would go to find them, but they all knew that he spent his time down there so surely, they would have come to let him know that they were leaving.

Was he not important enough to remember?

Did they miss him in the evening or even care that he hadn’t spoken to a single one of them, did they spare a thought that maybe that’s because he wasn’t there, that maybe he was passed out in the cold practice room, his aching muscles tensing and becoming sore and stiff? He guessed not.

The dorm was empty when he entered an he supposed that they had an early schedule somewhere.
Well tough luck, Seungmin could hardly move for his achiness and he felt gross and sticky, so he would be having a shower and turning up late whether they liked it or not.

They probably wouldn’t even notice that he wasn’t there- they certainly hadn’t last night so why should they now?

As much as he didn’t want to, he’d have to have something to eat.
Even though he’d skipped his morning run, he would likely faint without some kind of food. How odd that he should have chosen to push his body so close to the breaking point and the people that he had done it for didn’t even care to notice if he was there.

They were probably so used to having him floundering behind them, chasing after their success, that they took it for granted that that’s where he was and couldn’t be arsed to check over their shoulders anymore.

Well maybe they should learn to check. Maybe one day they would need him and finally glance back to see him tripped and fallen in the dirt behind them.

Who could say if they would even stop to pick him up or just run on without the hinderance.
Seungmin knew in his heart that he wouldn’t like the answer.

After picking at some fruit and yoghurt he looked at the schedule to check where he should be and saw that it was some important magazine shoot.

It was bizarre, usually he would be frantic to get there as soon as he could but now the mists of apathy and fatigue were clouding his judgement and the urgency of the situation didn’t appear so clear and sharp.

He just couldn’t bring himself to care.

Chapter Text

Where was Seungmin?
Hyunjin had just assumed that he’d left early to go somewhere before the interview and that he’d meet them there, but the start time was creeping ever closer and the boy was still to appear. Hair and makeup was well underway and they would run out of time if he didn’t show up soon.

Hyunjin had worked so hard to get this interview for all of them, the comeback was fast approaching and he had spent hours of his spare time working with management and PR, reaching out for a collaboration with this prestigious magazine.

Sometimes he hated doing projects alone, he felt as though he wasn’t doing enough for the team and that having his individual schedules made him selfish.

This magazine had been such an amazing opportunity for him in the past and he was desperate to do it again with the whole group.

Desperate to help uplift them in a way that they were always so willing to do for him.

And yet, where was Seungmin?

The other members had been excited and preparing for this interview for weeks, coming up with mock questions and thinking about stylistic choices, but Seungmin had always remained quiet, had always taken a back seat in the conversations.
As if he didn’t care.
As if he wasn’t even looking forward to it.

When Hyunjin really thought about it, Seungmin had been like that a lot recently, sporting a far away look and uninterested posture and only mumbling the odd contribution to group discussions.

Hyunjin wondered if something was going on, if his priorities were elsewhere.

The group worked so well together because they were all so committed to helping each other reach their goals. But Seungmin clearly had something that was distracting him and he wasn’t even privy to share it.

And now he was late, he was ruining this interview for the whole team, the whole company.

One didn’t need to be observant to notice the worried glances between staff members, the frustrated attitude of the director of the shoot.

They were being so unprofessional. Not only was a member late, but not a soul could verify where he actually was and whether he would deign to attend at all.

It was embarrassing.

Chan was pacing and Jeongin was desperately calling Seungmin to check if he was okay. Felix seemed betrayed and the others were angry.

Hyunjin almost felt bad for the boy, he was bound to get a talking down by Han later, and Changbin had the look of a disappointed father who had worked so hard to lead his child in the right direction, only for them to throw it back in their face.

And that’s what Seungmin had done, they had all done so much for him and he hadn’t even turned up for them.

Any of them.

Hyunjin didn’t know what to do, he was the only one who knew the staff of the magazine, and he felt responsible for the mess.
After all, he had been the one to recommend the group and to praise their professionalism and appeal for the magazine.

The director kept asking him for updates and some of the more gossipy photographers and stylists had started complaining about how they were waiting for one of the least important members of the group. That they thought the interview should just start- it wasn’t as though anybody would notice Seungmin’s absence.

That felt harsh. But Hyunjin understood the frustration, this was a big moment in their careers too, a chance to extend their craft to a new audience.

And Hyunjin had let them all down.

Not only that but he’d let Chan down- the poor boy was biting his fingernails to the quick and calling everybody at the company for information- he’d let JYP down too, no doubt he’d receive a lecture about being unable to fulfil his professional promises.

And he didn’t know what to do. He’d been working towards this collab for months, it was one of their main PR events before comeback, and he’d failed.

He’d failed and all he could do was sit there.

Did Seungmin find this funny, did he wish to throw them all under the bus, to burn professional bridges that wouldn’t be easily rebuilt?

Why would he do this?
It was as though he didn’t care for the members anymore, didn’t strive for the same excellence he had always chased.

Seungmin couldn’t be bothered to charge his phone, nobody ever called him and all that was waiting for him was disappointed comments from fans and negative feedback from his instructors.

All of that could wait until later, it was almost as if he didn’t want to see it. As though he didn’t care anymore.

He had always been borderline obsessive over improving himself and making the people around him happy but now he felt so detached. Like he couldn’t care less anymore. He already knew what was being said, why check?

He no longer needed to pinpoint areas for improvement, he now realised that nothing about him was good enough. That it would probably never be good enough.

He was in a world of his own as he walked towards the scene of the shoot. It was a huge magazine so their studio was in the centre of Seoul, not too far from the JYPE building.

It was walkable.

The streets blurred around him, his mind wasn’t really noticing anything, in fact it felt almost hollow. All he could perceive was his meagre breakfast sitting heavy in stomach and the goal of making it to the shoot.

He felt delicate, he felt like he was outside of the world, no longer entirely immersed and drowning under the weight of reality.

He felt almost like a ghost, half there, half not. Existing with no consequence or observation.

Everything was out of focus and confusing, his eyesight was fuzzy and he could vaguely feel the pain radiating from every part of his body, and yet that all felt so unimportant, so distant.

He hardly registered what was happening as a car suddenly pulled up to the curb, a man urgently calling out of the window.

It was a company car and the man seemed to want Seungmin to get in. That was enough information for him.

Carefully, so as not to fall to the ground, he climbed into the back of the car and allowed the man’s berating words to wash over him.

He wasn’t enough, he knew that so the precise details of his most recent failure didn’t really matter. He could just let them crash over him like waves on the rocks.

The car was moving and he was trying to focus on things outside of the window but it was all moving too fast for him to capture in his fatigue so he let it go.

The car was stationary and there was a large building outside of his open door. The man who was driving, now identifiable as a manager, was herding him towards the rotating door.

He was pushing against the door, trying to move it around, but his frail body and limp limbs couldn’t gather the strength. Finally, the manager helped him.

He was in a room, everybody was looking at him with an expression somewhere between confusion and anger.

Finally, they were looking at him.

That was he had ever wanted right? And now everybody in the room seemed to be taking notice. Maybe it was because his body was finally right or because his face didn’t have its unappealing puffiness anymore.

But that couldn’t be it, he could feel his breakfast weighing him down and he knew that he wasn’t perfect just yet so that couldn’t be why people were staring at him.

And then he locked eyes with Jeongin, the boy’s eyes, glossy with tears, searched Seungmin’s face, as though looking for some kind of explanation.

Right. He was late. Suddenly the scene seemed to come to life again and at least a dozen people were rushing towards him.

There were so many questions, all fighting for space in his brain. None of them won and he couldn’t answer a single one. There were hands on him, holding him, feeling him in all of his disgustingness. He didn’t like it and squirmed a little but he couldn’t come up with anything of substance to make it stop. The hands seemed to push and pull him in every direction, and he had a strange moment where he found it strangely poetic. The hands were a personification of all the contradicting needs of the fans and group members, forcing him to contort himself impossibly just to try to make them happy.

Finally he was pushed into a chair and the familiar process of his makeup began.

He usually hated looking at himself before they started, it made him think of the imperfections that they would have to cover up and provide distraction from.

It made him envy the visuals in the group for their perfect faces and undeniable good looks.

But this time he just had to look, he hadn’t looked at comments last night and it had been several hours since he took note of any of his failings. So he looked.

He saw puffy eyes, barely visible under layers of sleepiness, he saw messy hair and blotchy skin. His skin was still wet after his quick shower and his lipped were chapped and dehydrated. He looked awful.

Worse than usual.

He just didn’t understand, every step that he took towards becoming better and he only seemed to become more unattractive.

He couldn’t bring himself to smile once his makeup was done. The artist had done a surprisingly good job at hiding what a mess he was, she shouldn’t have had to work so hard, he was an idol after all.

Yet nothing could really disguise his hooked nose and weak facial structure, only surgery could fix that.

The hideousness gifted to him by his parents who then had the audacity to be disappointed in their child. Their child who resembled them, who worked throughout his schooling and afterwards to be what they wanted of him. He had worked so hard and it wasn’t enough, and now he saw it with horrifying clarity. He would never be good enough.

They weren’t just disappointed in him, they were disappointed in themselves. He was their failure and they wanted desperately to forget about it and move on.

He wasn’t suited for the job they wanted wanted for him, wouldn’t bring them the kind of daughter in law they wanted, couldn’t bolster their reputation the way they wanted or be part of or contribute to the perfect family they had envisioned when he was born.

He wouldn’t use the family name how they wanted him to or be the envy of other parents. Nothing could change that now. He would never please them.

But he could please the fans, he could please the management and other members and he could still try to make them proud.

Surely, they couldn’t deny love to a perfect son, even if he wasn’t their version of one.

He had to work harder, his goals were only further away after his revelation but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t achieve them. He wasn’t a quitter.

His hair was done next and was largely uneventful. His hair was boring, he knew that but dying it would have to wait a while, until the next comeback.

Lastly he was fitted for his outfit. He was pushed behind a screen and told to put on an outfit. It didn’t fit correctly.

The current measurements were wrong, they had changed due to his diet and additional exercise.

It was working, that at least was validating. The scale had told him as much but the clothes felt like a trophy, the way he could pull them tighter to his waist and see the difference in silhouette. It wasn’t enough yet but it was so much better.

The stylist was obviously fed up of Seungmin ignoring her as he drank in the outfit from all angles in the mirror and pulled at different areas, so she ducked round the screen.

“Oh God, it doesn’t fit!”

She was obviously panicking due to the very little time remaining before the shoot but rushed off to get a tape measure for new numbers.

Things like this happened all of the time but usually there was ample time to resolve any issues.

Seungmin’s heart went out to the poor woman, this was her job after all, but at the same time he couldn’t wipe a small smile off of his face.

He finally had a success.

All of his work had had no real reward, only negative feedback but this was giving him a high incomparable to anything he’d felt in recent weeks. It was a real emotion, a real feeling of pride and fulfilment. All of the nights with an empty stomach and the moments of dodging his members around meal times had paid off. He had a good result that fans would finally be able to see.

The lady barrelled back into their little secluded area and told him to strip to his underwear. Too preoccupied with his elation, Seungmin followed without thinking.

A quiet gasp brought him out of his thoughts and he looked down at the woman who was now kneeling on the floor, ready to begin with the measuring tape. She met his eyes and he realised with a gulp that she knew, she knew what he was doing, she knew his plan. Her eyes were full of realisation and perhaps a little bit of horror. She couldn’t be horrified at him or anything, it wasn’t as though he were sickly thin or anything like that.

She must have just realised that small adjustments to the clothing would no longer be an option.

And then she looked away, seeming to find something disturbing in his expression.

It was probably his smile, he knew that it was pretty grotesque and had done admirably in recent months to resist the urge to smile, and yet with the revelation of his success he had slipped. He couldn’t get ahead of himself.

Eventually the stylist settled on a baggy style shirt and a pair of leather pants which were clipped at the back to fit his waist. He supposed that she was unprepared for his dimensions or wanted to maintain a looser fit on the legs of the trousers.

And then it was the interview, they sat on stalls in front of the cameras and took turns reading and answering questions. Seungmin didn’t say much but it wasn’t as though he was asked much. He mainly sat there awkwardly, waiting for an opportunity to join in, his good mood gradually fading into frustration and rejection.

And then it was over.

The members were walking off again without even looking back at him. He was knocked out of his stupor and he saw it. They were upset with him.

His tardiness meant that the directors were on edge too, that’s why he hadn’t had any questions directed at him.

He had let them all down again.

He had done his best and had still fallen short as always. He left the set and rushed towards a bathroom in order to collect his thoughts. He had let the whole company down, he’d be lucky not to be fired. And in what sense had he possibly been doing his best?

Now that his sensibilities had come back to him, he realised how irresponsible and unprofessional he had been to meander toward to schedule. And then he’d had the audacity to be happy.
To be proud of himself.

And now his secret was out, he didn’t know why it was a secret that he was dieting a little, didn’t know why he felt panicky about the stylist knowing. He had to work harder now. Perhaps it didn’t really make sense but now that people knew that he was trying to lose a bit of weight and the cat was out of the bag, he had to work harder.

He had to somehow do more, but he was exhausted.

It was all to much, his guilt for doing this but also for not doing enough suddenly rushed up his throat and he threw up his measley breakfast into the toilet bowl.

It was gone.

His thoughts were sort of gone too in a way, this was the priority, he felt like crying but knew that he couldn’t; they still had photos to take for the cover and the physical article. Anyway, crying would mean that he had to explain this secret too, a newer more dangerous secret which scared him a little if he thought about it.

He had just been sick and was now empty of food again. If he didn’t think about it too deeply, he was working harder now, it had been a complete accident but it had quieted his other thoughts and taken away the guilt of his earlier meal.

The others were eating lunch when he managed to compose himself, flush the toilet and clean himself up too.

If they asked him to join them with food he would decline but he doubted that they would offer, they seemed to be giving him the silent treatment currently.

He was right. They didn’t even acknowledge him as he sat down with them, they would wait until they got home to scold him, try to salvage whatever reputation they could by avoiding an argument in public.

Knowing that he’d let them down so badly he wasn’t keen to sit next to them all but he could feel the stares of staff members pressing in from all directions and the group were his safe space.

He tried to avoid looking around too much in order to not attract any more attention but somehow, he met the stylist’s gaze.

Again, she had that knowing look. How could she possibly know what had just happened, he paled imagining it but decided that surely, he had invented that.

It was only once, she couldn’t possible have realised about the throwing up but then she pointedly looked in the direction of the bathroom and Seungmin felt as though he was going to spill the contents of his stomach for a second time and looked away in shame.

He can’t remember the actual photo shoots, maybe he blacked out from lack of food, maybe he was just too tired, maybe he was just sick with worry about the stylist telling people what he thought she must know.

And then they were in the vans on the way back to the dorms, no longer ‘home’, they didn’t feel safe anymore, not like they used too.

Seungmin was deep in regret and self-loathing all times of the day and the supposed security of the dorms didn’t help at all, in fact they seemed to make it worse. With so much time and so much space alone in his room.

He wasn’t in a van with Han or Changbin but they both tried to corner him as soon as they got back to the dorms. All he could think about was his bed which he hadn’t seen in more than 36 hours and he certainly couldn’t process whatever his hyungs were trying to tell him.

Changbin started gently, probably stopping Han from going all in but they both grew frustrated eventually when he didn’t respond and his eyes wouldn’t focus on them. All sound seemed fuzzy but occasional words made it through, “Unacceptable.” “Lazy”, “Frustrated”, “Disappointed”, “Hurt.”

And then he couldn’t take it anymore, he barged passed them into his room and threw himself onto his bed. Without brushing his teeth or changing clothes, he descended into quiet sobs and cried himself to sleep in a matter of minutes.

Chapter Text

It was all getting to be too much, the group was collapsing and Chan, try as he might, couldn’t seem to get a grasp on the problem. That being Seungmin.

Seungmin had always been unproblematic within the group dynamic, that wasn’t even really the issue, the issue was that he had completely withdrawn from the time spent together and he was falling behind with almost everything. He would disappear for long periods of time and if he was in the dorms, he would be in his room.

The issue with this was that Seungmin had always been pretty tricky to get a read on, his behaviour could often appear erratic and a lot of his feelings made sense only to himself. One thing, however, that had become apparent during their years as a group was that Seungmin’s sleeping space was his own, it was where he could gather his feelings and calm down when feeling overwhelmed or overstimulated.

His problems didn’t follow him into that room and he was only open to working things through when in communal spaces. But now Seungmin didn’t spend any time in the communal spaces and Chan didn’t want to corner him at practice. He practically fled at meal times if he even turned up and when he was with the others, be it at the gym or rehearsals, he was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that it was practically impossible to get his attention. When you did, he wasn’t conducive to any conversation let alone difficult ones about letting the group down.

At first, Chan had assumed that it was a short-term thing and that, if given space and time, Seungmin would work through alone. He didn’t. Instead his performance only got worse and he pulled away further.

Some members were sad, most at least a little angry. Chan didn’t know what to feel. From what he could tell, Jeongin, who had always shared a special connection with the other maknae was under the impression that something may be wrong, and Chan was inclined to agree. Seungmin had had similar times before, for a week or two he would withdraw or act strangely and then he would crack and find solace in another member. He would reveal his problem and proactively solve it.

Chan kept waiting for the storm to break, except it didn’t. The atmosphere of it raged around them, clouds pulling in close, amassing a storm of the likes they had never seen, and yet as tension continued to build and days and weeks passed, Seungmin didn’t break. The rain held and the air remained heavy. The sun didn’t shine from behind the clouds and nothing became easier. But how does one solve a thunderstorm? The only natural conclusion was for the rain to fall and for them to weather it and channel the feelings into something once again beautiful and peaceful.

Talking to Seungmin wasn’t working, he could be stubborn and wasn’t opening up at all. Maybe Chan could solve whatever was causing his strange mood, except he had no way of finding out what it was.

And yet Chan had reached his own braking point, JYP and all the managers were on his back about getting the group back on track and now Seungmin had made them look incredibly unprofessional in front of a very reputable and influential media company. It could be detrimental to their careers and all of the members seemed aware of this fact too. He had had to practically wrestle Han to stop him from going after Seungmin that evening, and what should have been an incredible opportunity for all of them became a tense and embarrassing day.

He had given Seungmin all of the space that he could afford to and now all he could think to do was to push the storm to breaking point just to have it over with. A lot of the others seemed to think Seungmin was simply losing motivation or not feeling up for it anymore. They saw him as lazy or distracted. He knew that Hyunjin was feeling particularly wounded after all of his hard work to prepare for today. Chan simply couldn’t allow this to continue any longer.

He hardly slept that night, not uncommon, but he simply rolled to and fro wracking his brain for a solution. And that’s why he heard somebody rising at 4:30 am. He got up too, not just to ask if they were okay but also just for something to do.

That’s when he saw him, Seungmin, frozen just before the door in shorts and a baggy T-shirt. He obviously wasn’t expecting to be seen and was shocked into stillness, as though he were trying to hide in plain sight.

“Seungmin-ah?”

“Oh, hyung. I was just going for a run before the gym. My fitness hasn’t been very good so I want to improve my stamina for performances.”

Chan smiled, Seungmin had obviously woken up to his shortcomings the day before and was now working to improve. Maybe the problem was starting to be fixed. “Very good, well take care and I’ll see you later. I’m really happy that you’re doing this Seungmin.”

Seungmin nodded and with a quick wave disappeared out of the door. Chan noted that he hadn’t brought a water bottle or anything but if it was Seungmin’s first time doing this then it made sense that he wasn’t completely prepared.

And so, he headed back to bed, happy in the knowledge that Seungmin wasn’t lazy, or unprofessional, and that he had found a constructive way to vent his emotions, just as Changbin had wished for. He was working to improve himself for the good of the team and Chan was proud.

Seungmin could tell that Chan was proud of him, he had smiled and let him go out without nagging or further comment. He also saw the surprise, which admittedly hurt a little, but mainly he saw the pride. Chan recognised what he was doing and supported it, he knew now that he was working to improve himself and the group. He hadn’t been late on purpose, he would never do that, but he also wouldn’t let himself slip like that again.

He pushed himself extra hard on that day’s run. Chan knew about it now and so would expect Seungmin to do his absolute best. Just as that stylist knew about his diet and he would now have to do even better than before. He was tired like normal that day but the early night and guilt about the previous day pushed him through practice with fewer mistakes. The members weren’t smiling at him necessarily, but their frowns became less noticeable throughout the day, they seemed to note and appreciate his improvement.

When they came back from the studio, Seungmin decided to push aside the exhaustion which threatened to topple him imminently. He was hungry, tired and lonely, and spending time with the members, people he once considered his friends helped to distract him from it all. They sat together and had a video games tournament, Seungmin couldn’t concentrate well enough to get past the first round but chalked it up to lack of practice.

Things were still tense, everybody waited with baited breath for him to mess up and let them down again, except he knew what to do now, Chan was proud of him, his hard work was paying off and he could allow himself this time to savour the lightness he felt around the group before getting back to his self-improvement regime.

And then it was food. And the weightless high that he’d felt since that morning evaporated as though it had never been there in the first place. Somebody must have ordered it whilst he was watching the others play because there were now three huge buckets of fried chicken sat on the coffee table.

And he was trapped. There was no possibility of him sneaking away now, they were all still suspicious after his failure yesterday and leaving now would come off as weird.

The conversations throughout the room hardly slowed as the members tucked in one by one, however there was an air of expectation and suspense, it felt as though all eyes were on him.

They were all going to watch him as he fed his body absolute garbage. He knew that they all thought that he needed to lose weight and yet they seemed to expect him to join them.

What could he do?

He could either disappoint them a little in the long run or make things really awkward now.

He needed to eat some of the food, he could always make up for it later with extra exercise.

So, he ate. He brought the chicken, practically dripping in calories, to his lips, barely managing to repress the shaking of his hands. And he bit and he chewed and he swallowed. And then he did it again and again. He placated himself by pretending he was only doing this to make the members happy, but even when they stopped watching he continued. The pressure seemed to push him on to eating far more than his shrunken stomach could manage. When he finally came fully back to himself, his hands and lips were greasy and his stomach sat churning heavily. He was going to throw up.

“I might head out for a shower now guys.” He had to fight to keep his voice from shaking. They all gave slight nods but only Jeongin glanced towards him to see if he was okay. He stood up hurriedly, taking only a short moment to regain his balance and clear his vision of the black spots invading it before practically sprinting away.

Then he was in the bathroom, shower running strongly behind him, the chicken before him in the toilet bowl, leaving his stomach blissfully empty and his throat burning. In the end it hadn’t taken much, it was like his body wanted to rid itself of the pollution. His eyes stung with tears and his hands were shaking but it was a victory. A whole new realm of possibility, he didn’t have to worry anybody anymore or avoid eating with the others.

He flushed the toilet and carefully made his way into the shower, the hot water cleansing him of all sins and disappointments. Water fell in turrets around him and through the steam he could see the future, the acceptance of the fans and the pride of his family, both biological and the members. He was doing everything he needed to and it wasn’t even that bad, why hadn’t he started sooner?

Chapter Text

The stylist didn’t know what to do, it wasn’t uncommon for people in the industry to be overly critical of their own bodies and commit to extreme and cruel diets, but this was bad.
Every time she closed her eyes she saw his body in front of her, wasting away and showing too many ribs. It was the figure of a man who was starving, not one who was at the peak of his career and surrounded by adoring fans and colleagues.
It was clear what was happening, the boy was clearly not doing well and yet nobody seemed to be concerned about him, only irritated. She had been busy since styling him but any time she took a second to relax, her thoughts were plagued by the eerily proud smile that he’d shown when seeing her horrified expression. The smile wasn’t filled with joy, only a grim determination and vindication that his suffering was paying off. She couldn’t believe that anybody could have seen that look and let him come to a schedule. It was obvious that he needed help which meant that nobody had properly noticed his state, maybe she was the first.

She hadn’t had any men’s clothes that would actually fit him and so she had had to settle with a simple shirt and jeans, clipped at the back to stop them from falling down his bony hips.

His disturbing glee had faded during the interview, it was obvious that he wasn’t being asked any questions and none of his members were making an effort to include him. He looked so lonely, sat at the side, obviously being punished for the consequences of an illness that none of them looked close enough to even notice. How they didn’t see the way that his eyes seemed to glaze over and he would subconsciously pinch at the fleshy parts of his body- if they could even be called that anymore- she would never understand.

The interview had ended and the pure melancholy gave way to a guilt that seemed to weigh so heavily that he swayed, before taking off toward the bathroom. When he came back the guilt remained but beside it, tilting the sides of his too pale lips upward horribly was pride. It was back. She realised then, looking into Seungmin’s eyes, how serious this really was. Her eyes darted to the bathroom in understanding and when she looked back at him, the boy’s eyes had widened in horror and flown to the floor. He avoided her for the rest of the shoot and seemed to be distracted.

What could she possibly do? She didn’t work for the company and didn’t know how much to trust them. What if they had already noticed and didn’t care? What if they’d pushed him towards it? They may very well punish him for being careless about image if she told his manager what she had noticed. And from the way that he was held at an uncomfortably cold distance from the others she wasn’t sure that they would give him the care that he so obviously needed, it was like they hated him.

And then he had gone, and she had missed her chance. And yet the sense of responsibility weighed heavily still. Imaginings of the future told her what would happen if nobody noticed in time, illnesses like this were serious and not only did he look far too frail but he looked exhausted. If he pushed himself this hard and denied himself sustenance in this way he would be lucky to keep his job, not to mention his sanity.

And so, she went to JYPE, late in the evening when the company was just about to close and her guilt and job had worn her down to desperation, she stood at the desk and introduced herself, asking for an appointment with one of Stray Kids’ managers.

It was a fine line, Seungmin had had found. A fine line between eating enough to sustain oneself during the day but not too much as to make oneself fat. That was a fine line too, what was slim and what was sickly, what was muscular and sexy, and what was fat. It was a fine line between dancing with enough energy to seem energetic but not so much as to appear rushed. It was a fine line between cute and annoying, between friendly and desperate, between fun and cringey. And yet all the other members seemed to walk it so easily, their bodies and personalities were all fine in his opinion and STAY agreed. Why couldn’t he get it right? Maybe its because he wasn’t born to be an idol like the others were, maybe its because he was just some imposter within the group needy for attention.

When all other aspects of his self-improvement seemed to be getting held up, Seungmin had taken to weighing himself daily, using the high of seeing the lowest number yet to balance the disappointment the curled around his heart every time he got a dance wrong, or sang a note a little off, or looked into a mirror for too long.

It seemed like the only thing that he could really succeed at, could really make noticeable improvements on. And it felt like enough. Sometimes. Other times it was inadequate at filling the hole in his heart, the hole in his stomach. He was fighting an uphill battle and the occasional glimpse of happiness from his rare successes couldn’t make up for it being a truly rotten experience. He was miserable, almost constantly. And he was starting to think that maybe he was wrong, maybe there was no perfect version of him that he was striving for, maybe he was just too broken and sad, and no amount of struggle could fix him.

But he had to try, anything less and he wouldn’t be worthy of his position in the group. So he went on as always, striving for an end goal that only seemed to get further away the harder he tried. His life started to be defined by ‘coulds’ and ‘couldn’ts’, his schedule prioritised over everything else. He would eat with the members only when he had to and spend the rest of that day emptying his stomach into the toilet and desperately nursing his throat back to health. It was all pretty pitiful and thinking about what ‘it’ actually was made him feel like being sick again so it sat as a dark shadow in the corner of his mind, a monster lurking under his bed that he refused to look at for fear of seeing it in perfect clarity. Yet he let it rule his thoughts any time his mind was stationary for too long. It was just an abstract, unknowable monster that sat heavily on his chest, stopping him from ever taking a proper breath.

But he just had to pretend to himself that he was fine, when he told the members and the staff that he didn’t need any help with things he was mostly trying to convince himself. He needed to be strong and deal with his own faults and putting the burden on somebody else was the weakest thing he could possibly do.

That’s why when one of the staff brought up something that a random stylist had claimed about him to reception, he denied it all.

They brought him into a meeting with one of he managers one of the company psychologists and grilled him about his weight and his mental health. It must have bee the stylist he had at the interview, the one who seemed to read the secrets written on his bones through the skin stretched across them. She must have told them what she suspected and a small but tempting part of him wanted to confess to it, to fall into somebody’s arms and confess to whatever ‘it’ was that he had been doing to himself for the past few months.

But he denied it all, he insisted that it was probably because she was paranoid about people like that in the industry, that he was sure the stylist had good intentions but that he was just naturally slender and was taking good care of himself. And they dropped it. Maybe it was because he had never lied to his superiors before or because he had been so emphatic about his point, but they let the matter go. He was dismissed with a simple “Thank you Seungmin or clearing this up for us.”