𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍│lee know centric

1.0: Under my skin

Exhaustion hovered over the room like a dark cloud, they were all tired and sore, which to no one's surprise— ended with most of the members slumped against each other on the painfully harsh wooden floors.

As the heavy music blared awkwardly throughout the humid room, no one bothered to make an attempt in turning off the antagonizing sound that they were all fond of on a normal day.

As the doors were pushed open, Minho barely registered the presence of another person in the room as he leaned against the wall stiffly, covered in a thick layer of sweat. His state wasn't that much different from that of his teammates, but considering the distraught looks on their faces, his condition was almost laughable compared to them.

Although he didn't feel that much different from the others on the inside, he wasn't unknown for his ability to mask his true feelings and put on a show, even though most of the time, when he didn't care, that was just him being unfiltered.

If they didn't know better, they'd think he was ready to go for another round of practice. He hid his exhaustion so well.

The long practice had weakened them, and even though they were blessed with an unusually high endurance for their often antagonizing practice sessions- they were not made of steel. So when their dance instructor walked into the room and made an attempt to persuade them into extending their dance practice— which had lasted for hours, the members were not happy, and that's if the heavy protests and glares of everyone in the room were anything to go by.

It wasn't an unfamiliar sight, but it was certainly one that Minho was glad he hadn't grown used to on a normal day.

"That's enough for today, great work everyone!" the dance instructor exclaimed with an embarrassed look on his face after realizing that his request had fallen on deaf ears.

His statement was followed by the heavy mumbles and hushed whispers of the members, which didn't go unnoticed by their manager as he slowly waltzed into the room as if he owned the place.

"The van's here! collect your things and come quickly." He said, his narrow eyes scanning throughout the room boredly, followed by all of the men rushing towards the door like cats at the sight of mice, as if they'd had some sort of invisible burst of energy.

As Minho lazily made his way towards the exit, a nervous voice pitched up from behind him "Minho! can I speak to you for a moment?" he nodded, and as the other members began to resurface in hopes of leaving together in one piece, he swiftly slammed the door in their faces.

A part of him felt bad. They had another photoshoot booked for that same evening and they all hoped that they'd make it there together.

He could tell that he'd cut off whatever protest was about to leave Chan's mouth, but he paid it no mind. When their dance instructor quickly walked up to him and gestured towards the door near his office, Minho took the hint immediately as he followed him to the dimly lit air conditioned room, followed by the other man's gestures for him to have a seat on the chair right in front of his wooden desk.

As the dance instructor walked over to his own seat, he sat on the chair behind the desk and looked up, and the moment that their eyes made contact, Minho noticed immediately that he was greeted by an unfamiliar disappointed gaze— similar to that of a teacher watching their students slowly evolve into the failures that would soon become a core part of society.

His heart began to jump only slightly, before he regained his sense of composure as he waited, almost anxiously, for what the instructor had to say to him.

Finally, the other man spoke up.

"You've been falling behind recently, Minho." He leaned into the chair before speaking up yet again. "We can't afford for this to happen. I need you to put more energy into this."