Chapter Text
Minho was dancing in front of a white wall for the eleventh time this morning. His members had walked by several times, some stopping to talk or even dance their part, and some just walking by with a squeeze of Minho's shoulder or observant eyes, silent to avoid disturbing him. But Minho wished they did; someone, something to distract his nervous system from the impending doom that was his upcoming performance. Glow was his, Changbin's and Felix's mission, and as one of the members at risk for elimination, Minho felt the weight of his future, like Sisyphus’s boulder, in his shaking palms. Minho was also very well aware that out of the other members at risk, he was the most likely to not make it. He joined their team later than the rest; and although he was the second oldest and had years and years of dance experience, Minho couldn't help but feel behind. He couldn't just pass; he needed to be the example. He needed the younger ones to rely on him, and look up to him. He had no room to be inexperienced and new.
He had no room to be weak.
Minho confidently flowed through the choreography, but it was his mouth he was most worried about. Chan and Seungmin had spent hours with him, working on his tone and his voice for singing. Jisung and Changbin stayed late to practice rapping with Minho. Minho knew everyone was investing in him to succeed- and that's why his voice shook and cracked.
You're just nervous, Minho tried to reassure himself. A little anticipation is messing you up, that's all.
Minho’s self reassurance seemed to settle the fluttering in his chest a bit before a not-so-Chan voice squeaked in his direction. "Minho-yah!" Minho turned sharply to a snickering, fox-eyed boy. He was pale and skinny, and looked every second younger than the 16-year-old claimed to be. "We're touching up on makeup!"
Minho straightened his shoulders immediately before taking big steps, just barely catching Jeongin in his arms before Minho's youngest could slip away. "Aghhh!" Jeongin pathetically yelped, struggling in the older's secure hold. Minho teasingly bent down, puckering his lips for a threatening kiss nearing Jeongin's right dimple.
"Hyung!" Jeongin corrected himself desperately. "Minho-hyung! MINHO-HYUNG!"
Minho turned away at the last second, sparing the youngest the threat of affection for the correct honorific. "That's better." Minho teased, letting Jeongin go. Jeongin shook his head aggressively, his sweaty black hair following the movement before he swatted the longer strands from his eyes. "Weirdo." Jeongin retorted before sprinting back to the dressing room before Minho could capture him again.
Minho only noticed the smile that had etched his face from his interaction with Jeongin once he arrived at the door of the dressing room. His heart was no longer chained tight against his chest; the impending doom, temporarily forgotten. Minho rolled his shoulders back, taking a deep breath before opening the door to a chaotic, bright dressing room with 7 kids running around. Their sighing noonas chased the distracted boys like hens, trying to make them presentable for their next performances.
"Hyung." A deeper voice caught Minho 's attention as he sat down in his designated makeup chair. LEE KNOW was etched in black ink on a paper taped to the back of the peeling, simple chair. For some reason, seeing his stage name made Minho’s stomach squeeze. He turned to see Changbin's sharp, insightful eyes looking him over. "How are you feeling?"
And that's what brought it back. The heavy, empty ball in his chest that made him feel like he was seconds away from drowning. It was clawing at his throat, burning, but Minho smiled anyway. "Good." Minho’s voice squeaked. "Confident."
Changbin's eyes traced Minho's figure once more, his eyebrows scrunching slightly deeper than they already were, but after a moment of silence, he attempted a reassuring smile. "You've got this," Changbin offered. "You're okay."
Minho sharply turned away, huffing as he felt his ears warm. After a moment with his back turned to the rapper, he returned Changbin's gaze with a small smile. "Comforting your hyung?"
Changbin laughed softly, his gaze dropping. "What, I can't check on you?"
Minho felt the heat in his ears spike as he turned away again, failing to respond.
In truth, Minho hated to be babied. It was awkward. Embarrassing. More embarrassing that he was as behind as Stray Kids’ maknae, probably more. The younger ones shouldn't have to care for him. He should be the one guiding them.
Embarrassing.
Makeup went by fast. Too fast. Before Minho knew it, he was being ushered out by his managers. As he stood beside Changbin and Felix, he had to tip his head up to the ceiling just to take in deeper breaths. Every breath felt shorter and more desperate than the last. He's nervous, he knows it. Anxiety is normal, common, and he has it.
He watched Chan's group perform, but he barely registered it with the anticipation of his own performance blinding his senses. Next thing he knew, he was ushered on stage like a sheep before he was seated in his position in the dark, with just a large, blinding light shining on them. Thankfully, Minho didn't have to wait in agony much longer. The music started, and Minho immediately flowed into the beat, the pressure that seemed to paralyze his limbs uplifted.
It was going great. He was doing great. He barely registered the moves, letting muscle memory take over. He mostly focused on his enunciation, staying on beat without running out of breath. Any second his brain wondered, he tried to remind himself, keep going, you're doing well.
He barely even registered that he was saying the wrong lyrics until it was too late. The mistake had already left his mouth, wretched words flowing into the ear of his judge, the one who would decide his fate with the team. Park Jin-Young, the owner of their entertainment company, and the one directing the survival show. It was too dark for Minho to see his reaction, but Minho didn't bother looking too hard. He did what he knew best. Don't stop, act like nothing happened.
The song was over before Minho knew it. But the mistake felt like a dagger that was twisted into his chest, leaving Minho bleeding out empty in the dim yellow spotlight. JYP's remarks were highly praising Changbin and Felix, noting Felix's improvement as one of the members at risk for elimination. But on Minho's turn, the older man's expression faltered into a frown.
"You made a lyrical mistake when you were rapping." Jin-Young commented, raising his eyebrow in Minho's direction.
"Yes..." Minho faltered. Part of Minho hoped Jin-Young wouldn't notice, but Minho knew better. Even if he didn't, the staff would tell him. Anything for the theatrics of the show.
Before he could bow and apologize, Jin-Young continued. "You forgot it?" A little?"
"No," Minho corrected softly. "I mixed it up with Changbin's lyrics." Minho felt Changbin shift next to him. Minho wanted to turn, bow, tell him he was sorry for messing up, but he couldn’t. He knew he could have messed up Changbin or even Felix too with this mistake. He could have ruined it for them. He could get both himself and Felix eliminated. Minho swallowed the cold marble that seemed to be lodged into his throat.
JYP hummed sympathetically, looking down for a moment before continuing: "Your singing improved a little bit, but overall, as I compare to when I chose you as a member at risk for elimination, you didn't improve that much."
Fuck. Minho felt his chest cave in, his heart beat starting to pound in his ears. So even if he didnt make the mistake, he was fucked. "Yes," was all Minho could muster as a response. He felt his eyes linger to the floor. His shoulders suddenly felt heavy and uneven, like Minho could sway out of balance at any moment. He barely registered that he was way more likely to be eliminated now as he waited for Jin-Young’s condemnation.
But the older man didn't continue, instead looking down and fidgeting his papers, signaling to the camera team that he was done.
Minho could barely see Felix through the glassy edges of his eyesight as he followed him offstage. Taking his place beside Changbin, he ignored the younger's look as he pretended that his eyes weren't glistening, overflowing with pale orbs.
When Changbin nudged Minho, he refused to turn. "I'm just sweating," Minho murmured.
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Minho blinked, and he was onstage once again. This time, the 7 others were one each of his sides, the whole team awaiting Jin-Young's overall judgement of their performances. The air in the room was humid, like a held in breath. Minho's chest felt like it was slowly being crushed under the weight of it.
"I'm really sorry, but I hope you know that there's no choice but to eliminate him." Jin-Young started, refusing to look up from his papers. Minho somehow doubted his sincerity.
"The eliminated member is..." Suddenly, like the reality of his situation was occurring to him all at once, Minho felt his heart fly into his throat. He looked up, just once, meeting Jin-Young's eyes for a split second. He begged in his mind, please, please don't make me leave.
"Minho-yah."
Minho expected his body to have some obscene reaction, but instead he seemed to still. Like it already knew, and just had to accept it. And honestly, Minho did know. But it hurt too much to accept.
"It's not because you did badly", Jin-Young's eyes were soft, an apology weighing down his shoulders. "It's because your training period was too short."
He walked onto the stage, and took Minho's hand in his. It felt like Minho was shaking hands with Fate. A fate that would force him to live in the shadows. A fate that stripped him from the friends who he was just starting to call his brothers.
With a pat to the shoulder, and a "keep training," JYP left the stage, leaving the eight vulnerable in front of gaping cameras.
Jisung was the first to reach Minho. The boy immediately reached out, gathering Minho to his chest like he was a child. "You did well," Jisung murmured.
Minho stifled a laugh. "Don't lie."
Jisung pulled back as a flash of red crossed the younger's face, and Minho immediately cursed himself. Really, taking it out on your little brother trying to comfort you. Among other things he was failing at, being a good hyung just had to be added to the long list.
Before Minho could apologize, he was separated from Jisung by a sobbing Felix, and suddenly, Minho was surrounded by seven sniffling boys, all trying to grab him, hold him, speak to him all at once. The noise started to blur together, and Minho's chest trembled as he folded into himself.
"Hey," an authoritative voice called in the chaos. "Hey, give him some space." Minho had never been happier to hear his only hyung. He barely turned and, with the kids backing up, for just a moment, it was just him and Chan.
The elder gave him that look that Minho had gotten so accustomed to. Disappointed, but not angry. Sad, but not hopeless. "You should have just done it like we practiced." Chan hoarsely murmured. It should have been a scolding, but it was too soft. So soft that all there was was disappointment.
Minho's chest felt like it was crushing itself. He would have rather been hit than see Chan look so broken because of his mistake.
"I went crazy." Minho sheepishly responded. He didn't know what else to say. He didn't have a good reason, a good excuse for his mistake. It just happened. Like his body betrayed him and his future.
Chan opened his arms, and Minho didn't even remember choosing to run into him. In half a moment, Minho was wrapped in Chan's embrace, desperate for the warmth and comfort Chan so easily gave.
Minho would never admit it, but he didn't want to let go. He sucked in Chan's fuzzy warmth, his cheap pine perfume, the way his nose fit into the nook between Minho's shoulder and neck like it was the key to the greatest treasure in the world. He didn't want to ever let go. Why did he have to go?
And with hot, fat tears that Minho finally allowed to roll down his cheeks, Minho cried into the shoulder of his big brother. All because it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that they got to keep going, and Minho had to stay behind. That he was fated to become a distant memory, a friend that could have been, a lost member that would stay behind while the rest debuted and accomplished their dreams together.
Most of all, Minho was scared. He held onto Chan like Chan would protect him. Like Chan would hide Minho behind him and tell JYP to fuck off. He was so scared of being alone. Of not having Chan to defend him. Of not having Changbin to reassure him. Not having Jeongin to tease him. Not having Hyunjin and Seungmin to tease. Not having Felix and Jisung to protect. Losing it all at once in a perfect summer storm, leaving Chan holding Minho in the eye of the hurricane.
"Please," Minho whispered between hiccups, burying his head in Chan's shoulder. "I don't want to go."
"I know, aegi." Chan whispered, just quiet enough that only Minho could hear. "I'm so sorry."
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