Minho wasn't the type to let comments get to him—at least, that's what he told himself. He was Lee Minho, the "mean" one, the savage hyung who never hesitated to roast the members or tease them on camera.
But when the SKZ Code Family episode aired, the comments started flooding in.
"Minho looks so fragile, like he's going to break if someone hugs him too tight."
"Why does he even need makeup? He already looks like a girl."
"He's so light, but no one could carry him? That must mean he's secretly heavy."
"A real man should be muscular, buff, and confident. Where are his abs?"
Minho scrolled through them, his chest tightening with every word. He never thought much about his scar before. It was just... a part of him. But now, all he could think about was how ugly and unmanly it must look.
That night, Minho curled up in his bed, his phone still clutched in his hand, and let silent tears fall.
Changbin wasn't trying to snoop when he walked into Minho's room later that night. He just noticed the lump under the blanket and thought Minho was sleeping.
But then he saw the tear stains on Minho's cheeks, and worry gripped him.
"Hyung?" Changbin whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Minho didn't respond.
That's when Changbin noticed Minho's phone, the screen still lit with a comment section. Curious—and concerned—Changbin picked it up and read the comments.
The more he read, the more his jaw clenched.
When Minho shifted slightly, eyes fluttering open, Changbin gently placed the phone on the nightstand.
"Hyung, what's this about?" Changbin asked softly, his tone free of judgment.
Minho sat up slowly, wiping his face. "It's nothing."
"It's not nothing," Changbin said firmly. "You've been crying."
Minho sighed, his shoulders slumping. "They're right, you know. I'm not manly enough. I'm too fragile, too—" He hesitated, his hand instinctively covering his stomach. "Too... this."
Changbin followed his gaze and realized what Minho meant. "You mean your scar?"
Minho nodded silently.
Changbin didn't waste a second. He grabbed Minho's hand, pulling it away from his stomach. "Hyung, listen to me."
Minho looked up, startled by the intensity in Changbin's voice.
"That scar?" Changbin said, pointing to it. "It's not something to be ashamed of. It's part of your story. It shows you've been through something and come out stronger. That's not weakness—that's strength."
Minho's eyes filled with tears again, but this time, they weren't from sadness.
"And who says you need to be buff or have abs to be manly?" Changbin continued. "Manliness isn't about muscles. It's about who you are. And you, Lee Minho, are one of the strongest, most hardworking, and most caring people I know."
Minho let out a shaky laugh, the corner of his lips tugging upward. "You're just saying that because I'm your hyung."
"No, I'm saying it because it's true," Changbin said firmly. "And besides, why would you need to be buff when you have your personal bodyguard right here?" He flexed dramatically, grinning.
Minho rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face was genuine this time. "You're so cheesy."
"Maybe," Changbin said with a shrug, "but it made you smile, didn't it?"
From that night on, whenever Minho felt insecure, Changbin was there to remind him of his worth. And slowly, Minho started to believe it himself.
The days that followed weren't easy, but Minho found comfort in knowing he wasn't alone. Changbin, true to his word, became his personal cheerleader—and occasional bodyguard.
Whenever Minho caught himself staring at his reflection too long, tugging at his shirt to hide the faint outline of his scar, Changbin would notice. Without fail, he'd swoop in with some over-the-top antics.
"Hyung, are you seriously worried about that?" Changbin would say, dramatically flexing his arms. "If anyone talks smack about you, just point them to these bad boys."
Minho would roll his eyes, but he couldn't help laughing every time.
One evening, during a dance practice break, Minho overheard a couple of trainees whispering.
"Isn't Minho-hyung too fragile-looking for a dancer? Like, he's great, but..."
Minho froze, the words stinging more than he wanted to admit.
But before he could process it, Changbin strode over, his face a mix of annoyance and protective big-brother energy.
"Fragile? Are you kidding me?" Changbin said loud enough for them to hear. "Do you know how hard he works? Hyung could dance circles around most of us. Fragile, my ass."
The trainees looked sheepish, muttering apologies before scurrying off.
Minho, who had been watching from the corner, shook his head with a smile. "You didn't have to do that, you know."
"Of course I did," Changbin said, sitting beside him. "No one gets to talk crap about my hyung."
Minho nudged him playfully. "My hero."
A few weeks later, Minho had a breakthrough moment.
The group was preparing for a photoshoot, and Minho caught himself hesitating in front of the mirror. He knew the stylist would ask him to lift his shirt for one of the concepts, and the thought made his stomach twist.
"Hyung, stop overthinking it," Changbin said, appearing beside him as if summoned by Minho's anxiety.
"It's just..." Minho trailed off, gesturing vaguely toward his stomach.
"Okay, first of all," Changbin said, standing behind Minho and resting his hands on his shoulders, "you look amazing. Second, if anyone has a problem with it, they're idiots. And third..." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "If you don't show off, how will you remind everyone that you were voted SKZ's best body in our fan polls?"
Minho turned bright red, smacking Changbin's arm. "Yah! Shut up!"
Changbin laughed, but his words had the intended effect. Minho lifted his chin, squared his shoulders, and stepped onto the set with confidence.
By the end of the shoot, Minho felt lighter.
When he looked at the photos later, he didn't just see his scar. He saw himself—strong, beautiful, and uniquely Lee Minho.
And if that wasn't enough, he had Changbin's voice in his head to remind him:
"You don't need to be anyone else. You're perfect just the way you are."
