Stray Kids Oneshots & Sickfics

Minho: Behind the Spotlight

•Skz: Lee Know
•Angst
•CW: Mistreatment, verbal abuse, self doubt and isolation, emotional breakdown.
************************************

The bright lights of the stage reflected off the polished floors of the practice room, and the rhythmic beats of their latest song pulsed through the air. The members of K-pop group Stray Kids were fully immersed in rehearsal, their movements synchronized as they danced to the music. Among them was Minho, whose smile shone as brightly as the lights around him. To the world, he was a rising star, but beneath the surface, he was fighting a silent battle.

Since their latest comeback, Minho's manager, Mr. Kim, had grown increasingly demanding. At first, it seemed like just the pressures of the industry, but over time, Minho began to notice something darker. Mr. Kim's comments shifted from critiques about performances to personal jabs about his appearance and talent. "You need to look more appealing," he would sneer. "If you want to be a star, you can't afford to be average."

At first, Minho brushed it off, convincing himself it was just tough love. But as the days turned into weeks, the words dug deeper, eroding his confidence. He felt ashamed and isolated, convinced that if he spoke up, it would only be seen as weakness. His bandmates, who looked to him for strength and positivity, would never understand the struggle he faced.

As rehearsals progressed, Minho found it increasingly difficult to keep up with the energy of the group. His smile faded, and he often retreated to the corner, feeling the weight of expectation pressing down on him. When he was alone, the exhaustion and anxiety would overwhelm him. He didn't want to let anyone down, least of all his bandmates who were his closest friends.

One evening, after a particularly grueling rehearsal, the group gathered for a quick meeting before leaving the studio. Minho sat quietly, listening as his bandmates discussed plans for the upcoming showcase. They laughed and joked, the camaraderie palpable, but Minho felt a knot of fear tightening in his chest.

"Hey, Minho!" Chan, the group leader, called out. "You okay? You've been a bit quiet lately."

"Yeah, I'm fine," Minho replied quickly, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Just a little tired."

But as they prepared to leave, Minho's phone buzzed with a message from Mr. Kim. "Meet me in my office," it read. A cold chill ran down his spine. He knew it wouldn't be good.

The tension in his stomach only grew heavier as he walked to the office. He knocked and stepped inside, finding Mr. Kim waiting with a stern expression. "You've been slacking, Minho. If you want to be in this industry, you need to step it up," he snapped.

Minho nodded, feeling small. "I'll do better, I promise."

But the manager leaned in, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "You need to understand that you're not as talented as the others. If you don't want to be the weak link, you better start putting in more effort."

The words struck Minho like a physical blow. He wanted to fight back, to scream that he was doing his best, but he remained silent, nodding along instead. Shame flooded him, mixing with anger at his own weakness.

When he returned to the practice room, the laughter and energy of his bandmates felt like a distant memory. Minho forced himself to join in, but the disconnect grew wider. He felt like a ghost, floating through their rehearsals while hiding his pain behind a mask.

Days turned into a blur of practice, and each night, Minho lay awake, wrestling with his thoughts. The shame of his situation was suffocating, and he began to dread the thought of facing his friends. What would they think of him? They were all working so hard, and here he was, unable to keep up.