Chapter Text
Doing your best isn’t good enough. You have to fight to be better. To constantly improve or you’ll be left behind. Outshone by whoever’s trying to take your spot as the next big thing. So Minho works hard. Really hard.
Today was no different.
He stays late to rehearse the choreography again and again until it’s perfect. It has to be perfect. By the time he was calling it quits, the others had already gone to bed.
The dorm is completely dark when he walks through the door, save for the faint glow of a little nightlight Felix had insisted on having in the bathroom illuminating the hall. His limbs feel like lead as he toes out of his sneakers, making the task seem ten times harder than it needed to be. The promise of his soft bed the only thing keeping him from just plopping down on the couch and continue trudging along down the hall to his room.
As soon as he shut the door behind him, he flops on the bed face down. It’s easy to sink into the plush blankets as his sore muscles relax for the first time all day. He ignores the grumble of his belly, exhaustion taking precedence over anything else with sleep quickly drawing him into a warm embrace.
There’s plenty of time for the mundane aspects of life once the comeback is over.
~*~
He gets a look of disgust from Hyunjin as soon as he walks into the practice room with the other three from his dorm. Minho fixes him with a glare in return, too tired to deal with his attitude this early in the morning.
“What,” he snaps.
“You look gross,” Hyunjin retorts with his nose scrunched. He couldn’t say he disagrees. He feels gross. But he didn’t have time to shower before they had to leave.
“Hyung overslept,” Felix chimes unhelpfully, skiddering away before Minho could get a hand on him.
“Traitor,” Minho mumbles as Chan comes up to slap a hand on his shoulder.
“You good?” He asks, honest concern written on his features.
Minho returns the gesture with a forced smirk and a pat on the older’s back. “Yeah, all good,” though he kept their eyes from holding contact for too long. He’d see past the lie otherwise.
If Chan saw through his words, he didn’t let it on since he offers a softer smile. “Glad to hear it. Make sure you get plenty of rest tonight. We need you in tip top shape for the performance this weekend.”
Minho nods in agreement, sighing to himself immediately when Chan walks away. He knows he doesn’t mean it but all Minho could hear was the pressure, pressure, pressure . There is no way he’ll let them down. Not again.
Not ever again.
~*~
Into the final verse, he’s exhausted. They all are. He can see it every time his eyes catch one of the others. They’re giving it their all. All the practice, all the blood, sweat, and tears, has led to this performance.
The entire group is prepared to leave everything on this stage for their fans.
They’re so close to the end of the song. He can feel it in the burn of his muscles, the ache in his feet. Each beat hitting harder than the last as they push towards the finish line.
“~bich-i beonjyeo deoug bichnaneun star ~” Felix closes, as practiced and poised as they planned.
Minho stood in position, desperately sucking air into his lungs. All of them shift in their places, bodies exhausted but jittering with adrenaline. He peels his eyes away from the dozen cameras as the crowd burst into a fit of cheers. He sees the smiles brightening the other’s faces, a contagious feeling that lifts his own cheeks.
His gaze catches when he looks to Han.
He was looking back at him…but wasn’t at the same time. His face pale through the sheen of sweat covering his skin. Minho’s smile drops. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
“Hannie?” He calls.
But he noticed too late.
It happened so fast. One second Han is standing upright (albeit stiffly, but upright nonetheless), the next he’s flat on the floor. Minho was the first at his side, eyes wide with panic as he carefully checks if he’s breathing. The rapid rise and fall of his chest gives the older very little relief, but at least he’s alive.
There’s a flurry of movement across the stage as people surround him, the members acting as a human shield to protect their brother from the view of the crowd and cameras. Minho stays crouched beside his head, Chan over his shoulder with eyes like a hawk. He doesn’t have to turn around to know the worry that’s wrinkles his brow.
Han is awake, which is good Minho thinks. His round doe eyes are full of fear when he looks up at him. “Hyung?” A confused, unfinished question that Minho already knows how to answer.
“You’re ok, Hannie. Just breathe,” he offers calmly. A false calm that he knows Han needs to avoid panicking. If only he knew the worry swirling in his chest. But instead he cards his fingers gently through the younger’s hair, a familiar soothing motion.
He’d sit there with Han as long as they’d let him. As long as Han wanted him to. All the members would. It’s the only thing they know to do. Stay together and hold each other up. If they didn’t, everything they worked so hard to build would come crashing down.
Stick together and avoid the collapse.