Attention Seeker✔️

1

Minho was no stranger to long hours spent in the practice room to come up with new choreographies. He was used to frequently working with different choreographers their company employed and although he preferred working with Hyunjin and Felix, he usually got along well with whoever was he was assigned to work with that day. The dancer was always professional around the staff, so most appreciated working with him but for whatever reason, today was different. The choreographer Minho was working with today had already entered the practice room with some sort of prejudice, that idols couldn't come up with their own stuff but needed to have their songs and choreographies prepared for them, so they could just perform the like silly, little marionets. With a mindset like that, it wasn't surprising that the older man kept belittling Minho the entire time, treating him as if the only thing the dancer was capable of was to look pretty and do whatever he was told to do.

It was frustrating but Minho refused to show it, hoping the other would realize he was wrong if Minho just kept acting professionally. That got progressively more difficult, as the choreographer at times even raised his voice at him when he didn't instantly nail a specific move they considered including in the choreography. Being a secret little, there were things that Minho was especially sensitive about. One of them was being yelled at but he kept it together, apologizing for the inconvenience before trying again. He took every single scolding, well aware that he would make it worse if he fought back although it really hurt to not have his skills and ideas taken seriously. Minho usually didn't mind individual schedules all that much, as it helped them split the work and be more productive. Today though, he would've really loved to have at least one other member with him. On the other hand, if one of his caregivers were present, he would've long since broken down crying.

After all the hurtful comments about him being lazy and not putting enough effort into their work, Minho skipped his lunch break and continued practicing while the choreographer went out to eat. He had thought that maybe by the time the older would return, he would nail every move to perfection but he hadn't considered what would happen once he started to run low on energy. The other didn't even notice that Minho had skipped his meal in favor of his work and only got more upset when the dancer's moves grew sloppier due to his exhaustion, so the scolding for slacking off increased. With the pressure Minho found himself under, it wasn't too surprising that his headspace started to creep up on him. Getting emotional over the injustice, the dancer felt his eyes sting but knew he couldn't give in to his emotions now. He would upset the other even more if he broke down and delayed their work further, so he pulled himself together, pushing his emotions and little-side back down in favor of keeping up a professional appearance.

Minho knew that he would be doing far better if only he had granted himself a short break. Maybe if he had eaten a few bites to restore his energy, he wouldn't be so sloppy and out of it now but the choreographer didn't know that he had skipped his break. Minho doubted the other would care though. All the older cared about was a useless idol, who he didn't like to begin with, waste his time by messing up frequently. How could somebody like that be called the main-dancer of a group if working with him was so painfully slow and he couldn't even contribute any useful ideas for sections of the choreography?

Over the course of the afternoon, Minho had put up with the frequent comments, criticizing his dancing skill and work attitude. While the dancer was able to brush off the comments about himself, the comments about his group stung on a deeper level. It made his blood boil when the choreographer mused how bad the entire group must be at dancing of their main-dancer was already such a letdown and the others were most likely worse than him. Minho loved his members and hearing them insulted made him furious, so he had no idea how he managed to stay polite. Forcing himself to take deep breaths, the dancer dug his nails into his palm and reminded himself that it would only get worse if he didn't keep his calm but damn it was getting difficult. If this session wasn't over soon, someone would end up getting punched in the face. What a shame it would be if that someone ended up being that rude choreographer.

By the time their session was over, so was Minho's patience. He was hungry, had been for a while already. As soon as he was alone in the practice room, he dropped down next to his bag, leaning his back against the wall. The insults were still ringing in his ears as he chugged down the last few sips of his water. As they slowly started to creep into his mind, Minho shoved the empty bottle into his bag and bit his lip. What if he really wasn't as good of a dancer as he had thought he was? His eyes started to sting with unshed tears. Even if he was bad at dancing, his members weren't, so they didn't deserve to be dragged like that. Minho loved his members, his caregivers, they were so sweet and caring, always there for him when he needed someone and it also wasn't their fault that they couldn't have been there for him today but it was Minho's fault for ruining their reputation. He should've put in more of an effort, now his slacking off reflected badly on his group and there was nothing he could do to reverse it.

Minho felt weak from dancing for hours on end without a break and without a proper meal. The breakfast he had had before heading to the practice room had only consisted of a protein bar, that he had washed down with a cup of black coffee and caffeine only lasted for so long. It was his own fault that he had missed out on lunch but he wouldn't have skipped it had he not been convinced that he could make things right if he just worked a little harder, still, it was safe to say that Minho hadn't had such a bad day in a long time. Maybe he'd be able to escape all of this for a while by slipping into his headspace as soon as he had made it back to the dorm. His members probably already expected him to slip after he had taken one of the restroom-breaks to vent about their choreographer in their group chat. On the other hand, did he even deserve them taking care of him after he had ruined their reputation with his lack of skill and effort?

Though Minho didn't feel like he had the energy to, he packed up his belongings and forced himself to get up off the ground. Bracing himself against the wall, as his burning legs struggled to support him, the dancer checked his phone for any new messages. He had secretly hoped for a message from at least one of his friends, something to show him that he wasn't alone in this but he got disappointed. It had been hours since he had vented to his friends, yet there was not a single new message. Part of him had hoped, that at least one of them would check in on him, knowing that he was having a bad day but none of them did, despite so many hours having passed.

With a heavy heart, he shoved the phone into his pocket and pushed himself away from the wall. His members might not care enough to check on him but that didn't mean he didn't care about getting home to spend time with them, their presence usually enough to soothe him. Minho's muscles burned as he slung his bag over his shoulder and slowly made his way to the building's exit. His muscles were on fire and he knew he'd be sore for days after this but no matter how badly his body ached, he needed to clear his head, so he decided to walk back to the dorm building. He'd just have to bear with the pain in his legs a little longer. The thought of his stuffed cat and maybe even some affection from his caregivers was what eventually fueled Minho enough to make it home. He loved his caregivers and knew that they possessed the power to make everything okay, at least for his little-self they could make everything okay, so if he managed to slip once back at the dorm, there was nothing he had to worry about. Maybe he had to worry about his stuffed cat getting jealous if he showed his caregivers more affection than the plushie but that would be the worst of his concerns.