𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ✓ Lee Minho Centric

13.0 idol

that he could stop now.

"minho?", the voice of his leader made minho freeze. his hands quickly let go of the door handle and he stumbled back a bit, accidentally hitting the shower door with his back.

it was quiet for a moment before the same voice was heard again, this time slightly softer. "are you in there?".

minho felt his heartbeat quicken and released a shaky breath. what if chan heard him throw up? what if he found out? shit, he was totally fucked.

"yeah?", minho simply managed to answer, still stuck in his tracks, his thoughts going haywire now. he knows. he found out, he knows and he is going to confront me about it.

"uhh, I really need to pee and you've been in there for a while so I wanted to ask how long it's gonna take", chan chuckled a little and minhos chest automatically stopped clenching together as if he couldn't breathe.

oh

chan didn't hear him.

thank god.

just as fast as his heart almost jumped out of his chest just a few seconds ago, minho quickly caught his breath again, swallowing down the last pieces of anxiety and finally answering with a hurried; "I'll be out in a second!".

back in his room, minho looked through his phone one last time. the comeback was tomorrow, just a few hours from now and minho had never felt worse about himself.

his thighs were uncomfortably big in his sweats and he was practically able to feel them rub together when he walked. how was he supposed to go on stage tomorrow? that was a one way ticket to become the embarrassment of the whole group.

"I don't want to", minho quietly whispered to himself and a single tear finally escaped his eyes. he roughly wiped his face with his fist but quickly stopped, too scared to activate redness or soreness and look even worse tomorrow.

minho inhaled and bit his lip, trying to hold back a sob that had been trying to escape for the longest now. "I don't want to", he repeated and his voice wobbled almost imperceptibly.

its good that chan didn't notice, he had told himself after coming out of the bathroom, but deep, deep inside him minho knew that he wished chan had noticed it.

—

minhos lip trembled a little as the makeup artist did the final touches on his face. for the past few hours in the dressing room he had been fighting down the urge to cry, trying to swallow down every last piece of fear and anxiety that tried to reach the top of his throat.

but now, 15 minutes before the comeback stage, it was like every single weight was on minhos shoulders. he recalled the last few weeks - the weight in, the trainer, the dance practice, the panic attacks, the vomiting... it all went through his head like a rush and didn't let him breathe regularly.

he just wanted to sink into the ground.

you big baby, minho scolded himself as he looked at himself in the mirror. his eyelids were covered in pretty, glittery eyeshadow and his lips had a faint red tint. you don't even look that bad today.