If you're into Chan and enjoy angst, then this story is definitely tailored for you!
Chan didn't want to do what his agency asked. They pushed him to create scandals for attention, promising it would help Stray Kids get famous. Reluctantly, he agre...
"Chan..." My voice was barely audible, just a broken whisper.
His lifeless body lay sprawled on the edge of the bed in the dark corner of the room. Trembling, I reached out to touch him, my hands shaking with fear. His body... it was ruined... it was instantly clear that this hadn't been his choice. He was forced into this...
A blindfold covered his eyes.... his hands tied behind his back, wrists bound together. The crop top he'd worn was nowhere to be seen, leaving him exposed and scattered with marks across his skin. red, angry blotches and bruises along his arms, his neck, his chest. Bite marks trailed across his skin. His jeans were barely hanging on, almost falling off.
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Even though soft whimpers escaped his lips, it seemed like he wasn't fully conscious.
"W-what did you do to him?" I managed to choke out, barely able to believe what I was seeing, my gaze fixed on the manager, who was clutching his head in distress.
"Minho... I'll explain, okay... Just don't panic."
"How can I not--"
"For now, let's get out of here, okay? If they find out what happened, things could get worse than we can imagine."
the manager said urgently.
"Who are 'they'? What are you talking about?"
Ignoring my questions, the manager moved toward Chan, reaching to untie his wrists.
With my trembling hands, I slowly removed the red bandage that had been covering his eyes. The fabric was wet. Wet with his tears. His eyes were closed, yet the tears kept coming.
"He wasn't always like this. He was always strong... Maybe it's because this hasn't happened in a long time. He's in shock."
The manager muttered to himself, but I heard it too.
What is he talking? Is he saying this isn't the first time this has happened?
"Open that cupboard." the manager said while fixing Chan's pants. "Yeah, that one-get that big bedsheet." he continued.
When I handed it to him, he carefully draped it over Chan, wrapping it around him.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Shh..." the manager silenced me. Then, without another word, he lifted Chan into his arms, holding him gently by his hands.
"Open the door." he instructed with urgency. I.N was still standing by the door, his eyes wide with terror.
"Minho, what's going on?" he asked the moment I opened it.
"Come with me". The manager hurried ahead, leading us through another door into a separate room.
