Kpop Sickfics and Hurtfics Part 2

Set Design Gone Wrong (Han)

The bustling atmosphere of a music video shoot was electric as Stray Kids prepared for their latest comeback. The set was alive with the hum of conversations, the metallic clatter of equipment, and bursts of laughter from the group as they teased one another during breaks. This comeback was especially important—it was their first with a new creative director who promised a bold, cutting-edge concept.

Han Jisung stretched his arms above his head, his hoodie slipping slightly to reveal the faint lines of his jaw. He glanced around at the others—Bang Chan in a focused discussion with the director, Hyunjin practicing subtle movements for the choreography, and Seungmin scrolling through his phone, looking for the right playlist to keep the energy up.

"Jisung, you ready?" Changbin's voice called out, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Han nodded, his trademark grin spreading across his face. "Always."

They were about to film a key sequence for the title track, one that required intricate choreography and featured dramatic close-ups. The set was a masterpiece of design, filled with abstract shapes and textured props meant to represent the chaos of emotions their song conveyed.

"Alright, everyone on set!" the assistant director called.

The members filed in, their chatter fading as they slipped into professional mode. As they entered the shooting area, Jisung caught sight of the main centerpiece of the set—a large, circular structure covered in a pattern that instantly made his stomach turn.

The surface was dotted with countless clustered holes, irregular and deep, giving the illusion of organic growth. The sight of it sent a shiver down his spine. His throat tightened, and a wave of nausea churned in his stomach.

It's just a prop, he told himself, forcing his eyes away. Don't focus on it.

"Wow, this looks insane!" Hyunjin exclaimed, running a hand over the edge of the structure.

"Yeah," Jisung muttered, averting his gaze. His hands curled into fists, his nails pressing into his palms as he tried to ground himself.

The director stepped forward, explaining the next scene. "We'll be focusing on each member in turn. You'll interact with this centerpiece—touching it, leaning against it, using it as part of your movements. The texture is meant to symbolize vulnerability, breaking out of your comfort zone."

Jisung's chest tightened. His trypophobia—a deep-seated fear of clustered holes—was something he rarely spoke about. It wasn't something he could easily explain, and most people didn't understand how something as seemingly harmless as a pattern could trigger such intense discomfort.

He swallowed hard. I can do this. I have to.

As the shoot began, the members took turns filming their individual segments. Han watched from the sidelines, his gaze flickering toward the prop every now and then, only to quickly look away when the sight made his skin crawl. The room felt stifling, the air heavy with the scent of paint and artificial fog.

"Jisung, you're up!" the assistant director called.

He stepped forward, adjusting his jacket as he approached the set. His pulse quickened with each step closer to the prop. The closer he got, the more the holes seemed to multiply, each one a dark void that threatened to pull him in. His breathing grew shallow.

"Han, we need you to run your fingers along the edge and then lean against it for your verse," the director instructed. "Make it look natural."

He nodded stiffly, positioning himself in front of the camera. The lights bore down on him, hot and relentless, as the music cue played. Jisung started moving, his hand trembling slightly as he reached for the prop. The moment his fingers brushed against the textured surface, a jolt of revulsion shot through him.