Chapter Text
practice is over. minho slumps down against the mirrored wall, his warm, sweaty body creating a slight fog on the reflective glass. he lets out a sigh, letting his head fall forward as multiple parts of his body ache, his joints throbbing beneath his skin in time with his heart beats. after a few moments or a few minutes — time tends to blur with a life like his — minho looks up, realizing that the practice room has emptied. it’s only him and a young manager-in-trainer sweeping the floor with a push broom.
minho stands up with a groan, letting his sweaty hair fall into his face. “have a good evening,” he says to the boy sweeping the floor, gathering his jacket and things to leave.
“g-good night, minho-ssi!” the boy calls after the idol, making minho chuckle. ten years in the industry and he still doesn’t fail to make both boys and girls alike flustered.
in the hallway, he pulls on his jacket, letting its warm, downy material swallow him until he’s barely recognizable. the black mask he dons aids in this, letting only his eyes be visible. it would be enough for a die-hard fan to recognize him, but hopefully he wouldn’t be seeing any of those as he steps out of the company building and onto the empty street. it was almost one in the morning, so the hagwons should have been out a few hours ago, and minho’s frequented convenience store should be clear of any students catching a late-night snack.
he makes his way down the street, his steps light like a cat’s, towards the beckoning neon lights of the 7-eleven. the convenience store was his favorite due to a few things: it was close enough to work that he didn’t need to take a taxi, but far enough that he wasn’t worried about any fans stumbling into him there, and, maybe the most important part: it was open 24/7. minho can go in the middle of the night, avoid the crowds, and get all of the yummy snacks he wants without worrying about his managers scolding him.
the door swings open, announcing minho’s arrival in the desolate shop with a chime of jingle bells that hang above the door. he immediately heads over to the grab-and-go section, looking for his favorite premade sandwich.
“we’re out of turkey,” the man working behind the counter says, startling minho. he looks up, meeting eyes with a man that looks to be college-aged, with sharp, siren eyes and a nicely shaped face. he makes minho flustered, so he looks back down at his shoes to avoid the man’s piercing gaze.
“thanks,” he mumbles, his hands starting to shake. he is tired, he doesn’t want to talk to anyone tonight. why did this man talk to him? does he want something from him? minho doesn’t know what he could want, and he’s definitely sure that whatever it is, minho cannot provide it to him.
“i didn’t mean to startle you,” the worker adds, walking away from his post behind the counter towards minho. minho freezes like a deer in headlights. this is so weird, does he know who minho is? is he gonna beg him for an autograph? “i noticed that–”
minho drops the sandwich he was looking at back onto the shelf and runs out of the store. he knows he was rude to the worker, but he doesn’t really care. he just needs to get as far away from the store and the talkative worker as quickly as possible.
his heart is pounding as he nearly runs down the sidewalk towards his apartment, his legs shaking so much that he feels as if he’s about to fall over. his ears feel as if they’re stuffed full of cotton, the pressure pushing onto his brain and giving him a headache.
by the time minho makes it to the safety of his apartment, the pressure in his ears still isn’t gone. his vision is fuzzy on the edges, and he feels exhausted. he manages to take his shoes off and drag himself to the couch, collapsing on top of hit and falling asleep nearly immediately.
ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ 🦊🐇་༘࿐
minho wakes up on the couch, sunlight filtering through the curtains and settling over him like a comforting blanket. he yawns, sitting up and grimacing when he feels a crick in his neck. he’s nearly thirty, he can’t be sleeping on the couch like this anymore.
he sighs, and goes about his morning routine:
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shower
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brush teeth
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make coffee
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drink coffee on the couch while staring at the wall and contemplating everything he has ever done in his life
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get picked up by his manager in their fancy company car
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have breakfast shoved down his throat…
…and then finally, he arrives at work for another bland, repetitive day.
today, his manager explains on the drive over, is full of meetings where minho is allowed to have a semblance of agency over his image while his division goes over their plans for his next comeback, and minho is expected to design a choreography that goes to the song demo he will be given. he’s tugged by the sleeve of his coat through the parking garage, his manager used to wrangling half-asleep idols.
minho can’t get the 7-eleven cashier’s eyes out of his head. they bore into his mind, flashing across the backs of his eyelids when he closes his eyes. remembering him makes minho’s heart race with guilt, shame, and anxiety. there’s a deep sickness in his core that he can’t seem to shake, making him feel nauseous. why can’t he just be normal?
the meeting goes by in a blur, and he holds back a yawn while some design executive is explaining the album photoshoot concept, and he nearly dozes off when they start talking about numbers and data and other boring shit that minho does not need to be listening to. he doesn’t care about his demographic or what his fans expect from him. sometimes, he wishes that they would just give him the words to sing and the dance moves to perform like they used to, treat him like the puppet he should be.
prior to his enlistment three years ago, minho was the perfect idol; he was excited to be growing in the industry and eager to prove that he could be what his company expected. he loved his fans and wanted to be the best he could, working on his voice and his dance until no one criticized him. he didn’t mind that he didn’t get to make decisions and that half of his pay was still going towards name-less trainee loans that were shoved onto him. he loved his job and everything that came with it.
when he joined the military, the navy specifically, he had his first taste of freedom in nearly a decade since he had gotten accepted into the company that runs him. he experienced true manhood, and friendships that he never got to even think about having before. he realized that being an idol, and despite it being his dream his whole life up until his enlistment, performing and being a star wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. being around men that were all working hard, not just to impress the people at home or the other sailors in their divisions, but for their country, made him see a whole new side of himself that was exciting. when he came back, he indulged in this new-found freedom. he stopped listening to his managers as much and he stopped being a little idol puppet, so that he could start being himself. he started doing things on his own, figuring out his hobbies and the things that he enjoys outside of singing and dancing.
at first, his managers and executives did not appreciate it, trying to belittle him and push him into submission, but minho held strong and refused. he wanted to be himself, and his career—which had started feeling less like a dream and more like a tedious way to pay the bills—wasn’t at the forefront anymore. after plenty of pushback, minho’s managers finally listened to him, and they accepted that this fight minho was making wouldn’t end easily. refusing to let minho pursue some of his personal interests was not something they wanted to lose one of their most popular and profitable idols over.
nowadays, minho has a lot more free time compared to the average idol. breaks typically happen after enlistment, but minho’s wasn’t exactly a break. after he came back from the military, his career seemed to become entirely reinvigorated and rebirthed into something new. with more mature music, his fans became more mature as well, but overall, there was a massive spike in listenership that surprised minho. it made him feel great, but at the same time, he felt extremely guilty. he wasn’t motivated to be a good idol anymore, he wasn’t someone he wanted people to look up to, because he felt as if he wasn’t being authentic and true to himself anymore. he couldn’t understand how his music, which held nothing that truly represented him, was affecting so many people and making them want to fill up stadiums just to see him.
that’s when he started going to the convenience store.
late at night, when he knew that he wouldn’t bump into anyone that would know him, he’d run into the 7-eleven and get a turkey sandwich and a drink of some sort that was typically zero sugar. sometimes, when he was feeling a little good about himself, he’d let himself get something sweet, like an ice cream, but that was fairly rare. at his age, and especially at this point in his career, everything minho did made him feel so fake and, quite frankly, ugly.
every evening he went to the 7-eleven, the college-aged boy would be working behind the counter, and the only conversation they ever had was the man telling him the total, and minho saying “thank you” before running out of the store with sweaty palms and a racing heart.
he didn’t think that he was awkward, until he was talking to a friend from the navy after going to the convenience store together, and he commented on how minho didn’t even try to look the cashier in the eyes. how could minho be awkward? he is literally an idol! it’s literally his job to look at people and be confident.
you’re pretending, a mean little voice that minho is always trying to ignore says in the back of his head.
minho originally brushed the comment off, but the thought stuck with him long past his evening out with his friends. he doesn’t feel like he’s awkward; honestly, he thinks that he’s pretty normal. sure, he doesn’t really go out that much, but who does nowadays? he doesn’t have a partner, he doesn’t have many real friends, and the only people he talks to on his phone are his parents. he assumes that everyone is like that, at least, everyone in his position. why be social when anyone can recognize you at any moment and get so infatuated that they start following him everywhere? it’s happened twice before, it’ll happen again, and minho doesn’t really care anymore.