SEVENTEEN ONESHOTS [✓]

💌 : minghao x svt

Minghao feels like he's slowly losing touch with his cultural identity while trying to adapt to Korean culture and the group's lifestyle.

The disconnect between who he is and who he feels he has to be for the group grows, and he starts to feel like an outsider even among Seventeen.

During a group dinner, Minghao finally voices his struggle, revealing the internal conflict he's been hiding for months. The members are taken aback, realizing they've been unintentionally leaving him out.

How do they work together to embrace each other's differences without causing Minghao to feel further isolated?

It was a quiet evening, and the warm glow of the restaurant's dimmed lights cast a soft hue over the table, where all thirteen members of Seventeen sat, laughing, talking, and eating.

The tension in the air was almost invisible to the others, but to Minghao, it felt suffocating.

For months, he had felt like he was fading into the background, struggling with an internal conflict that seemed to grow deeper with every passing day.

It was a constant pull between who he was, the part of him deeply rooted in Chinese culture, and the expectations of being part of a Korean group.

Minghao had always been known for his quiet demeanor, his laid-back nature that kept him in the shadows, but tonight, it felt different.

Tonight, he couldn't escape the suffocating weight of the feeling that he was losing himself.

He had been suppressing it for so long, trying to push aside his discomfort and fit in, but the frustration had built up to the point where he couldn't take it any longer.

As the members continued their conversation, he stared down at his plate, picking at his food absentmindedly.

The others were oblivious to his struggle, wrapped up in their own conversations, but Minghao could feel the walls closing in.

He wasn't truly part of the group, not in the way they were.

He wasn't able to be fully himself around them, every time he tried, there was always that undercurrent of difference, that sense of not belonging.

His hand tightened around his chopsticks, and he took a deep breath. Maybe it was time to speak up.

The thought felt foreign, almost out of place, but something in him couldn't stay silent anymore.

He glanced up briefly, catching the eyes of a few members who were laughing with each other, completely unaware of his internal turmoil.

Finally, Minghao's voice broke the rhythm of the conversation.

"I need to say something."

He said, his voice barely above a whisper, but it cut through the chatter like a sharp breeze.