Skz oneshotes (Requests Open)

I Can't Do This Anymore

I Can't Do This Anymore

It started with the lights.

Too bright. Too hot. Too constant.

The stage lights used to feel like home — warmth, adrenaline, applause. But lately, all Seungmin felt under them was exposed.

Every flash of the camera, every fan chant, every beat of the song that once set his blood on fire... now pressed on his chest like weight.

He still smiled. He still hit every note. That was what he was known for — precision, control, calm. The "reliable one." The one who didn't falter.

But tonight, as the last note faded and the cheers swelled around him, something cracked.

It was small — just a flicker in his chest, a whisper he almost ignored. But it grew louder with every forced smile, every bow, every congratulatory pat on the back.

By the time the curtain fell, it wasn't a whisper anymore. It was a scream.

Backstage, the air was thick with noise — stylists rushing, managers calling out cues, other members laughing breathlessly as they collapsed onto the couch.

"Good job, everyone!" Bang Chan's voice rang out, bright, tired, proud.

Seungmin sat quietly in the corner, towel pressed to his neck, chest still heaving.

"Seungmin-ah," Hyunjin called, dropping beside him, still glowing with sweat. "You killed that bridge. The crowd went wild."

Seungmin forced a smile. "Thanks."

He meant it — or at least, he wanted to. But the compliment bounced off him like static.

Felix was already replaying clips on someone's phone, laughter spilling from the group as they teased each other.

Seungmin tried to join in. Tried to find the rhythm of their joy. But it felt like watching a movie with the sound turned off.

When their manager called for a quick debrief, everyone gathered in a circle. Chan talked about adjustments for tomorrow's set, Han joked about missed steps, and Minho gave quiet feedback with that sharp honesty Seungmin usually appreciated.

But tonight, the words blurred.

All he heard was the rush in his ears, the uneven beat of his own breath.

"You okay?" Felix's voice cut through, soft and concerned.

Seungmin blinked. Everyone was looking at him now.

"Yeah," he said automatically. "Just tired."

Chan nodded. "Go rest, then. You did great."

Seungmin smiled again — the practiced kind — and slipped away before anyone could stop him.

The dressing room was empty when he entered.

He closed the door, leaned against it, and finally let his body sag.

The silence hit harder than he expected.

He dropped his towel, stared at his reflection in the mirror. The person staring back looked fine — calm, composed, exactly like the Seungmin everyone expected.

But the mask was heavy.

He didn't know when it had started — this slow, quiet unraveling.

Maybe it was the pressure of always being "on." Maybe it was watching everyone else shine so easily while he felt like he was holding himself together with invisible thread.