Work Text:
When he thought about it, really thought hard, Minghao could remember a younger version of himself showing the signs. He remembers getting an infection in his belly button from sticking sharp tools in it to “clean” it, and performing surgeries on his toes -which admittedly was stupid because that caused him to have ingrown toenails for years.
He remembers being fascinated in his arms and legs, pulling skin in all different directions in search for pimples and blackheads and really anything to pick at.
And the more he thinks about those times, a vivid memory of him going to the beach comes to mind. Minghao had gotten sand all in his hair and for the entire week following that trip his little chubby fingers would scour his scalp for the tiny grains, and once a single spec was found he would dig. The blunt nails he chewed on constantly would scratch and rip into flesh until blood came away on his hand. Minghao’s mama had thought he had some kind of disease, what with the way bald spots and big ugly scabs would appear seemingly out of nowhere on top of his head.
Looking back, Minghao supposes she wasn’t that far off. He did have a disease of sorts, just not the one she assumed.
Minghao was always a worrier, he was cautious and soft spoken, and when he moved to South Korea after being found dancing by a talent scout it had worsened. The stress of not understanding what people said, being away from his family and friends, it triggered something in his mind to crack. He became hyper aware of the other kids in the room, the sounds and sights relentlessly surrounding him… and the smells.
Smell became something akin to a nightmare for Minghao.
Pictures of germs floating in the air haunted his mind, threatening to infect him if he breathed in deeply enough. Anytime someone would sneeze or cough or give off rotten scents an image of those particles going into his body would cause his throat to instinctively close. It terrified him, how strong this fear was, especially when it evolved into his fear of bathrooms. What once was just holding his breath when someone farted became holding his breath as soon as he stepped into a bathroom.
Logically Minghao knew how stupid this all was. He knew that that’s not how germs and illness worked. He knew that breathing in air in a perfectly clean bathroom wouldn’t make him sick. He knew that. But those thoughts and pictures had wrapped around his mind like vines that no amount of weed killer could destroy.
It wasn’t until five months after he joined PLEDIS, when he was put into a group of twelve other boys, that he found a name for it.
All thirteen of them were lounging around in the living room one night after a particularly difficult dance practice when Seungcheol had decided to have one of their infamous “family chats”- something Minghao had only been a part of once before but was too anxious to participate in. It went on like it normally did, someone mentioning something they were bothered with and the others apologizing and making a compromise, with Junhui hyung quietly translating bits and pieces the Minghao when he didn’t understand, until eventually the dancer finally got the courage to step up.
“U-um. I would like to say something…” He shyly mumbled, everyone giving him encouraging smiles and nods. “Well...um. So recently I-um.. I’ve been…. I guess the word is scared? Did I say that right? Okay, so I’m been scared, um. Of germs...well not really, it’s just in the a-air...I-ugh.”
Minghao dropped his head in his hands. Korean was hard in the first place but his nerves were making it worse. He had wanted to finally get this off of his chest but now the boy was beginning to feel stupid, and if it weren’t for the boys still waiting patiently for him Minghao wouldn’t have pushed on. ‘It’s now or nothing’, he thought.
Straightening up and taking a deep breath, Minghao started again. “Okay….I guess I’ve just been anxious since I’ve come here- to Korea. Like, I get overwhelmed really easily. And um...I’m terrified of- god this is stupid but I’m scared of bad smells. Or breathing in germs from people in general. You know, like um...what’s the word hyung? Coughing? Yeah… Stuff like coughing, sneezing, farting, even scratching at dry skin makes me want to hold my breath until...the germs “settle” basically. And it’s worse in bathrooms, where I just hold my breath the whole time I’m in there because in my mind it’s just permanently contaminated. It’s um, it’s why I wear a face mask so much. So I don’t have to hold my breath so much. It acts kind of like a filter. Does that make- um, does that make sense?”
He could feel his heart beating out of his rib cage, if Minghao were to be honest right now. It was quite an amazing feeling to have gotten that out and that amazing feeling grew when the boys all spoke up, assuring him they understood. Jisoo had told him of an aunt of his who was the same way, only she was scared of getting sick from touching people, and Jeonghan and Seungcheol hyung offered to help him get help for it.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Later, one month after he was placed into Seventeen, Minghao was seated in his therapist’s office when she diagnosed him with mild OCD; and while he was scared for the future, Minghao knew he wasn’t alone.