ONESHOTS || MEANIE ● WONMIN

|actor|

Mingyu had finally had enough.

He knew what the job would entail even before he began training for it. Especially once he started gaining more and more attention from the public. He thought he could handle it with grace, that it would be easy to get used to.

But years later—many awards and a few scandals in—Mingyu is still struggling to live a life where he can flourish as an actor and still find peace as just Mingyu during his private time.

The number of times he had to move homes over the years was crazy, if you asked him. He had to leave multiple beautiful and meaningful places just because stalkers found out where he lived and started staking out his house day and night, just to catch a glimpse of the handsome actor.

Mingyu was kind enough not to throw a fit, but he stayed firm in never meeting them. He knew that if he gave them attention even once, they would become even more obsessive than they already were.

It had been another exhausting day. Packed with photoshoots, meetings, and even script readings. He even had to sprint away from paparazzi just to make it back to his new home and hopefully enjoy a peaceful night of rest.

The elevator doors opened. Mingyu glanced to the side, checking if anyone had followed him. Once he was sure it was safe, he stepped into the metal box and let out a sigh of relief as the doors began to close.

But just seconds later, a hand shot between the doors, stopping them from closing. The elevator doors slid open again, revealing a tall man in a black hoodie, the hood pulled low over his face.

Mingyu instantly became wary.

Was he really followed?

Did this person hide in some corner and run over at the last second just to be alone with him?

Was he another paparazzi?

A sasaeng?

Like an instinct, Mingyu began stepping back, retreating to the farthest corner of the elevator. His back was now pressed against the cold metal wall, eyes locked on the man who had just entered.

He watched him closely, like a hawk, waiting for him to press a floor number. But to his horror, the man remained still—saying nothing, doing nothing. The only button lit on the panel was Mingyu's floor.

Sweat began to form on Mingyu's forehead. He started cursing in his head, mentally noting the man's build and clothing. Details he could use later when filing for a restraining order.

The elevator ride felt unbearably long. Mingyu began biting his nails, anxiety creeping in as his mind spiraled into the possibility that he'd have to move yet again. He felt utterly wronged by the thought of packing up all his things one more time, searching for another place to live.

The hassle alone weighed him down, and just thinking about it drained him even more.

"Did you have a good night?" came the man's voice.

His voice was attractive—Mingyu wouldn't lie.

He quickly scanned the elevator, just to check if he had somehow missed another person inside. Was this man really talking to him? So casually, just like that?

Mingyu didn't say a word. Situations like this had happened to him far too many times before, and he knew from firsthand experience that even the smallest bit of engagement could make things spiral out of control.

"I had fun watching you, by the way," the man said. "I had to stand off to the side, though—I was a bit too shy to walk up to you."

The numbers above them seemed to slow down even more. Mingyu couldn't help but feel a surge of anger.