Work Text:
Lee Know didn't really know what he was doing.
He was supposed to be out on stage in another thirty minutes, yet here he stood in the changing room, staring at himself in the mirror.
His hair was dishevelled, his eyes were sunken in, his face was lifeless and dull.
His eyes ran over his naked body, frowning at every small flaw.
Minho looked at the scar on his torso, the jagged line which cut through his skin. His fingers ran over it as they had done so many times before... How better he would have looked if he didn't have this damn thing on his body.
His arms which were full of muscles now seemed like loose flesh hanging around his bones. Fat. All of it was fat, no muscle. Because that's how he was. Looking good on the outside, but a mess on the inside.
Minho turned to the side.
His stomach was further out than it should have been.
He cursed at himself.
He sucked in a breath and pulled in his stomach, watching himself become acceptable for just a second.
He exhaled.
He was so fat.
He had no muscle, not a lean body, nothing.
His thighs stuck together when he stood up straight.
They were so big. Why were they so big?
Why couldn't he be like Hyunjin? His height, stomach, muscles... Minho snapped out of it to look at his own body.
His eyes went up and down, hating the way he looked.
His face was the only good thing about him.
That too barely.
A pretty face without talent, that's who he was.
It's not like he could sing like Seungmin or Jeongin. And rap? That was a joke.
But dancing? He thought he was good at it, he really did.
But seeing the way Hyunjin and Felix maintained themselves and danced so effortlessly...
And Minho couldn't even control his own eating.
A failure.
That was the word his mind kept coming back to, no matter how hard he tried to push it away.
A man who couldn't even maintain his own diet. A man who was too lazy to go to the gym every day like Changbin.
He thought of Jisung, how sweet he was. Perfect. That's the only word that came to Minho's mind when he thought of Han Jisung.
And then he had looked at himself, reminded of who he was. Undeserving.
He didn't deserve food to eat, when he couldn't stop himself from eating it.
He didn't deserve the group he was in, when he was so imperfect.
So close to being perfect, yet so utterly miserable in his own body.
His eyes bore into themselves as he stared at the mirror, the image of his body threatening him, his head looping with thoughts.
He hated himself.
The way he looked.
The way he sounded.
Why?
Why couldn't he be better?
He just wanted to like who he was...
His head pounded with thoughts, getting louder and louder-
He jumped when someone knocked at the door.
"Hyung, all okay in there?" It was Felix.
Shit. How long had he spent in here?
He took one last look at his body, unable to tear his eyes away, as he frantically put on his clothes in a body which didn't belong to him.
Minho smiled at Felix as he stepped out, "Sorry, the shirt was inside out and messing with the coat, so it created a hassle."
"No worries," Felix smiled back at his hyung, "We're ready to perform now."
Yet Felix didn't mention the haunted look he had seen on Minho's face through the crack of the door.