I Hold The 12 Flowers Tightly In My Hands (Seventeen Seungkwan fic)

Broken

It'd been one week, and Seungkwan had finally lost a bit of weight. The whole 'one meal a day' thing seemed to be working (except for the fact that he almost passed out during dance practice a couple times). Everything else was going well.

Seventeen had to be at some Gangnam convention center at 8:00am for a fan meeting/merch release event.

While everyone had their little eggs or cereal for breakfast, Seungkwan had a large cup of black coffee. Nobody said anything, of course they wouldn't. They don't care.

Once the guys arrived at the convention center, they were taken to a large conference hall with a long table up on the stage where they all sat to one side; similarly to how all of their fansigns go.

They must've seen several hundred fans that day. Mostly teenage girls, sometimes grown women, and occasionally men.
Seungkwan had done this a bunch of times before, it's nothing new to him.
He greets a fan, answers their question, gives a high five, and moves on to the next person.

He'd bent over to scratch his leg while the line moved.

"Hi, Seungkwan!" A voice rang out, catching his attention with the informal greeting, since he was usually called 'Oppa' by fans. He looked up at the fan in question, she appeared to be a good bit older than him.

"H-hello Noona," he greeted politely, shaking her hand.

The woman had a huge grin on her face, "I can't believe I'm actually meeting you, Kwannie!"

Seungkwan stopped in his tracks, his blood running cold. Anxiety shot through him, attempting to pull him away from reality.
He tried to act natural, plastering on a fake smile, "So..do you have a question for me?" He asked, almost through gritted teeth. Sweat threatened to fall from his forehead.

She nodded, "Oh yeah," -she began, sliding him a piece of paper, as well as reading the question out loud, "How do maintain such a perfect figure all the time, Kwannie?"

The words echoed in his head, he remained quiet for several seconds, keeping his head down. His heart was beating alarmingly fast; a lump formed in his throat, and he wasn't able to push it down this time. His vision became blurry and he felt his face getting hot. He remained quiet, taking a restrained breath.

The woman's tone was now filled with concern, "K-Kwannie? Are you ok? Kwannie?" -She reached out to gently tap on his arm to get his attention- "Kwannie?"

Seungkwan abruptly jerked his hand away, "Don't fucking call me that!" He boomed, his voice cracking. Tears started to spill from his eyes.

The room went deadly silent. Hundreds of eyes were on him, all hosting a rainbow of emotions. It felt like the room was spinning, Seungkwan couldn't take it.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry," he whimpered, standing up and backing away from the table before bolting out of the room. He ran down a long, empty hallway until he found a bathroom. Entering and barricading himself inside.

As soon as he knew he was alone, he let out a choked sob. He leaned against the back of the heavy, wooden door. Hot, salty tears poured down his face, dropping onto the tile floor beneath him. He put a shaky hand over his mouth, stifling another sob.

He slid down the door, sitting with his knees pulled to his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could disappear.

'You really fucked up now. They hate you, everyone hates you.'

His sobs refused to cease, he buried his head in his hands, uselessly wiping away the tears.