Chapter Text
When Seungmin was a kid, with the scent of fresh-cut grass, mud, and sweaty baseball uniforms still fresh in his mind, he made a silent wish. Tucked away in the corner of an abandoned classroom, the sun casting a golden glow, he made a desperate wish.
‘I want to be anywhere but here.’
To the mind of a young teenager, bruises along his body, blood crusting along his nose, anywhere seemed better than where he’d been.
Seungmin’s hands shook as the people around him became a blur, his throat ached, a cold sensation blanketed his forehead, and a fan was placed in front of his face. Voices were speaking next to him, and he could barely parse through what they were saying, male and female, worried.
A moment, a breath, and he forced himself up, pushed the fan away, took off the towel along his forehead and grabbed the microphone already held out for him. Hands grasped his face, reapplying makeup he’d smudged in his panic, fingers trailing through his scalp, fixing the mess.
He wanted to throw up.
Another breath, he rolled his shoulders, heard the music queue and relaxed his expression.
He stepped back on stage.
The life of an idol really was hard, Seungmin thought. It’s funny, really, because he thinks that child, back then, bathed in a golden glow, body aching with years of misdirected anger, he would have made the same decision.
That memory of cackling laughter, snide mocking.
He holds it deep in his chest and lets it burn, lets it hurt, before loosening his grip and smiling brightly.
Hah.
This really was something he loved to do.
---
“Seungmin-ah!”
He doesn’t turn, sweat heavy on his brow and muscles sending spasms of pain throughout the rest of his body, too concentrated with getting the moves just right. The music cuts off, and he falls to the ground in a graceless heap, his chest rising and falling rapidly, the wooden floor a cool balm on his heated skin.
“Kim Seungmin, I told you to finish practising two hours ago!” The worried voice of his manager, Iseul, fills the now-silent studio. Seungmin hums, rubbing a hand over his face. Now that someone else has entered the room, he’s hyper aware of the tank top he’s wearing, the tanned skin with all its imperfections visible to the eyes of only two.
A hoodie to the face, and he almost wants to apologise for worrying her.
Almost.
“I need to get it right.” He groans into the hoodie before moving to sit up, ignoring his protesting body in the process and pulling it over his head to cover himself.
“You have got it right,” He looks up at her, tanned hand held down towards him, soft brown eyes filled with frustration, she really was pretty. Not in the conventional sense of the word, but he found her beautiful all the same. Her face was oval, dyed blue hair, lips thin, and shoulders hunched; she unerved most people with her flat face, but he found her entertaining.
“You should let me take more photos of you,” Seungmin mumbled. It dragged on enough to be considered a whine, but he refused to think on that. If it also moved the conversation away from practising, he would be grateful.
“No, and double no, we are not moving on!”
Damn.
“Kim Seungmin, there is such a thing as overworking yourself, as I’m sure you are more than aware.” She lightly smacks him on the head. He groans, clutching his head as if she’d hit him too hard, too used to his antics by now, she barely blinks. “Your debut is going great, the company is happy, the fans are happy, I’m happy, so why aren’t you?”
“It’s not perfect yet.” Seungmin looks at himself in the large dance studio mirrors, fringe held back with a flimsy headband, face flushed with exertion. He stares at himself in that mirror and can't stop the images from years ago resurfacing, of the studio filled with other trainees, friends, moving his body into correct positions, repeating something when he got stuck.
They disappear as mere ghosts of a memory.
“I’m back in Korea as an idol for the first time in five years.”
“Six.”
“Sorry, six.” He rolls his eyes and moves over to the corner of the studio, grabbing a bottle of water and taking careful sips to alleviate his thirst. Once satiated, he continues. “Fans are excited, I can’t let them down, not when they have such high expectations for me.”
“Seungmin-ah, your debut is breaking records, fastest grossing single in Korea for a solo debut, first Korean debut single to make its way onto Billboard, fastest solo debut album to reach 100,000 pre-orders!” She stares down at him, ever so slightly taller than him in her boots. “And this is all before your album has even been released. No one would blame you if you took it easy.” Her voice softens, turning from a crackling fire into a warm ocean.
Seungmin knows she’s right, knows that he chose this company specifically because of its more hands-off approach to his creative process, knows that the company is happy with his current trajectory, but-
Those ghosts floating in the corner of his eyes, warm eyes turned cold, filled his stomach with ice.
“Just give me half an hour, Noona, and I’ll be gone.”
She sighs.
“Okay, Seungmin-ah, I’ll see you in a few hours for that online interview.” She turns, he stares at her hunched shoulders, weighed down, and she pauses for a moment. “Please, try to get a few hours of sleep.” She leaves, the doors silent as they close.
It feels like victory.
His chest aches, glass shards pressing down around it.
Seungmin stares at the mirror, sees himself and no one else.
---
Kim Seungmin could say he’d felt his heart break three times in his short twenty-four years.
The first had been when he was ten, Eodum, his black pomeranian, had to be put down for a health condition he hadn’t known about. He and his sister had hugged and cried while his mother consoled them. He’d refused to get another dog until two years later. It was a taste of the “real world”, as his grandmother put it.
The second, at age seventeen, staring at the pitying face of a man who had just ruined everything for him. Cameras pointed, awaiting his reaction, the heartbroken faces of people he’d trained alongside for a measly year, faces he’d expected to see standing with him, debuting together. His reaction after everything was never aired. He could probably blame Bang Chan for that.
The third, missed calls, starry nights, empty rooms. It wasn’t worth mentioning.
This is to say that Seungmin held those moments inside himself, let them fester; he loved to do that, let things sit inside himself unaddressed until they boiled over. It wasn’t a problem until it was a problem.
“Don’t blink, please.” He stared straight forward, willing his eyes not to twitch as the makeup artist drew along his waterline, his eyes watered, and she dabbed it away with a cotton tip. His mind began wandering once again as she resumed applying…something, on his forehead.
This interview would be the first since putting his album out; he’d only gone to a handful so far, largely foreign media outlets, English, Japanese. He’d only gone to one short Korean Magazine interview; it had been 30 seconds posted online, and the fans were making edits already out of the very short clip.
He refrained, for the sake of the makeup artist, from rubbing at his face in frustration.
Seungmin couldn’t help the twinges of guilt. The fans were so excited for him to return. Those who had been fans of his back in the survival show were happy to see him making music again, but-
He wasn’t excited to be let back into the wolves’ den, as it were.
“All done!”
Just as the words exited her mouth, Iseul walked back in with two cups of coffee in her hand, texting away on her other. Her face looked paler than it had earlier, and her hair was pulled up and away from her face. A tell on her stress levels.
Guilt tugged at his heart. Iseul was doing much more than was necessarily in her job description. She was both his assistant and manager, all with the hours and pay of an intern needing to impress their boss.
While the company he joined had its advantages, it was no JYPE in terms of funding. Simply put, they could not afford to give him anything more than an underpaid, everything woman. It wasn’t fair to either of them; she had to be available practically 24/7 while he was dealing with a lot of the smaller issues usually dealt with by staff, but small enough to avoid dragging Iseul into it.
Seungmin truly thanks every god there is that they don't completely hate each other's guts.
“Thanks.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I talked with the host; she knows what to expect from you by now, having seen a few of your other appearances. I’ve already told you she doesn’t ask deep questions, but Stray Kids will probably be mentioned in passing.” Her hands move in the air while she talks.
He hated it.
Not the hand thing, but that everyone felt like they had to tiptoe around the topic.
He knew re-entering the idol industry would mean questions related to his training with Stray Kids, especially considering how big they had become in recent years. But he didn’t have to like it, and so situations like this arose.
Most hosts avoided it; everyone knew at least that neither Stray Kids themselves nor Seungmin were willing to talk. But idols, if nothing were terrible at gossip. It had gotten out last year in a leak from a disgraced member of staff on the survival show that the elimination scene had been filmed, just never released. For fear of legal repercussions, he’d not mentioned anything further, just that from that day on, he was under the impression they’d never spoken a word to each other.
That it was Seungmin who stopped talking to them and not the other way around, and that the others were still trying to reach out to this day.
He’d scoffed when he read that; his phone was void of any messages from his former friends (if they ever were), and had been since he left. Just as he liked it.
Seungmin didn’t like to think about it anymore, but now that he was back in Korea, it was becoming much harder to ignore. It was a tight-lipped secret; Seungmin was in one episode and not the next, no elimination, no tears, not even a mention of him past that point until several months later when JYPE released a statement citing creative differences as the reason for his departure.
He wanted to laugh at the time, but instead, he’d broken his phone by smashing it through his mirror.
“Seungmin-ah.” Seungmin turned to Iseul, who was standing at the entrance. “She’s about to start recording, let’s go.
He turned to look himself over once more.
His lip curled.
He turned away.
---
Seungmin walks into a fairly cosy, if large, room.
Staff mill about, politely nudging him out of the way as they set about their tasks for the day. It’s not hard to follow Iseul; her hair, though her dark roots are growing through, is still a glaring blue colour.
His gaze wanders the set out of curiosity. It looks like a cute cafe, with glazed windows to hide the view of the outside, and a few stock animal photos lining the wall. Despite the set-like design, they seem to have captured that warm feeling of sitting in a cafe with friends.
Iseul slows to a stop. Seungmin, not far behind, moves to stand alongside her, eyes staring at whom Seungmin assumes to be the interviewer. She’s quite tall, easily looming over Iseul and holding a few inches above Seungmin with long, wavy blonde hair and glowing golden skin.
It reminds him of Australia. Golden hair, tanned skin, tall build, but her eyes, there’s nothing warm about them, no lazy ocean or cloudless sky, only the icy gaze of a collapsing glacier. It burns his skin, the way only ice can.
“*Kim Seungmin, yes?*” Her English voice is harsher than he expected, having only heard her speak in lightly accented Korean; the words sound as if they could have been enunciated like a caress but instead come out as a bite, sharp teeth gnashing.
“*Yes.*” He tries for a smile, knows it’s painted onto his face perfectly. “*I didn’t know you could speak English, it’s very good.*”
“Thank you.” She doesn’t bow her head. “I’m Ana-”
“Ah shi-” Iseul stops mid curse, Seungmin’s eyes already staring at her phone clutched in her hand. He gets a slight glimpse a the name, not one he recognises, before it’s tilted out of view. “I’m so sorry, I need to take this.” Her eyes stare at Seungming with a mix of embarrassment and hope.
It was odd.
Iseul was very particular about her schedule, and it was very rare for any of her events to be interrupted like this.
Perhaps a family emergency?
“It’s fine, it’s only a short interview, I can handle it.” Seungmin assured, he got a hurried smile before Iseul disappeared into the humdrum of the crowd and presumably out of the studio.
A loud clap forced his eyes back towards the interviewer, Ana.
“Okay, let’s get started.”
---
Pulses of pain shoot through his skull, the scent of cheap packet spicy noodles fills the humid studio unpleasantly enough to only make the pulsing pain worse. He replays the same beat for what feels like the nth time, face screwing up in frustration. He drags his aching fingers through his hair, rubbing roughly along his cheeks.
Through his parted fingers, he stares at the camera recording him, recording his creative process to be uploaded online for thousands to see. His gaze flickers to the clock just behind it, reading: 04:33 AM.
He grasps the camera and points it at the time before moving it back to his face.
“I’ll probably need to sleep on the studio’s couch tonight, but I think we’re getting there with the beat.” He allows a smile to grace his face, but it pinches painfully. Another shot of pain hits his skull. “Goodnight, everyone, and don't be like me, go to sleep early!” He waves and then turns the camera off.
Hah.
“I’m tired.” Seungmin mumbles, placing an arm over his eyes for a second before sitting back up. His brain is fried for the night; he won’t be getting anything else remotely coherent out.
He stands, stretching, and hears his back crack as his bunched-up muscles stretch. His phone vibrates, scaring him with its volume. He ignores it at first, but after several other buzzes, he reluctantly picks it up.
Old lady manager :
‘Watch that interview. The fans are in an uproar. It’ll be taken down for sure, what an idiot.’
‘She forgot to edit out behind-the-scenes stuff, are they amateurs or what?’
‘It’s been taken down, but others have already reuploaded it. Here’s the link.’
Ah.
The interview.
Seungmin checks the time again, searching his tired brain for when Iseul said the video would be released before shrugging, plopping down on the sofa and clicking on the link. The screen buffers for a moment, and he glances at the title.
‘New Idol, Old Idol: Episode 10 ft Kim Hongjoong & Kim Seungmin. Reuplode.’
Scheduling conflicts prevented either of them from meeting face to face, which he was glad for; he didn’t think his heart could take meeting Hongjoong again anytime soon. They’d never been too close, but Seungmin recalls a few shared meals, in between tightly packed schedules. It felt too close to the past he was trying too hard to avoid.
The video starts.
“Hello, everyone and welcome to another episode of New Idol Old Idol!” The host's face burst into frame, her features alight with joy.
Cheers and claps burst from behind the camera; it had filled the studio, he recalled, a concentrated effort to make the show and presenter seem more energetic and attention-grabbing than she was.
The host, Ana, continues.
“This is the tenth and final episode of this season, but don’t worry, we will be coming back!” Her long, golden blonde hair is pushed forcefully behind her ear, as if an inconvenience. He’s pretty certain it’s a wig; it isn’t obvious on camera, but having taken as many photos of people wearing wigs as he has, the difference is stark.“This episode is going to be a bit different, sadly, due to some unplanned schedule changes-” That felt aimed. “We are unable to meet both idols at once.” She frowns, exaggerated, not dissimilar to a cartoon character, perfectly pink lips, almost pouting.
“I know it’s not as exciting, but I believe our fluffy friends today will carry us through!” Her eyes squint, a mimicry of true joy; the rest of her face remains still. Almost perfect. “Speaking of which, I’m sure you're sick of hearing me talk, so let’s bring in our fluffy friends!”
The door to the cafe opens, two dogs burst through, one a large golden retriever, happily, if sluggishly, tries jumping onto her chair, body wiggling side to side through pure excitement. Not far behind a smaller dog, a blur of black, comes in and instead of heading for the host, starts playing with the toys laid in the centre of the room.
“-and Chul, a lively pomeranian puppy! He works well with children but might get lonely without another animal friend to keep him company!”
Seungmin taps the screen, skipping past the introduction of the animals, the shelter they are from, all contact info, and the hair care sponsor of the video — ironic really. All that’s on his mind is the way her eyes had shifted behind the scenes, that innocent joy replaced by an uncanny disinterest with the animal she was holding. The cavalier way, she had thrust the dog back into the shelter worker's arms.
There is no evidence of it; the simple edit from one scene to the next erases all the evidence of her personality to maintain the image of a bright and friendly young woman.
The video resumes with her sitting down on a chair at the cafe-like set, its realistic-looking enough that he’d say if he watched it casually, he’d think it was a cafe. Everything about that show, the cast, the crew, even the set, was fake.
She begins reading from a cue card as if she is unaware of the idols appearing. It was the crux of the show that she wouldn’t know what idols were going to be on set with her until the day.
“Newly debuted, this idol has already broken more records than many groups do in their lifetime, all before his first album has even been released.” Her eyebrows rise upwards inch by inch.
“Wah, seriously?!” She’s seemingly asking those behind the camera, but Seungmin, who’d watched her go through each moment several times so her microexpressions were correct, didn’t blink. “He must be impressive.”
She continues.
“His debut song is already topping charts, and pre-orders for his album have already passed 100,000.” The octave of her tone increases with each word. “He’s fluent in English but born in Seoul, he’s worked as a photographer, producer and writer in London, England.” She stops reading for a second to stare at the camera with a shell-shocked expression, the edited images around her, and visual gags adding to the dumbfoundedness.
“You’re sure this is the new idol? Seriously, this is insane. This guy must be super talented!”
He just thought his intro was a bit over the top.
“He’s already reaching heights beyond the expectations of his small company, being the first idol to be managed by them. He writes, produces and sings all of his own songs, with only a small amount of creative input from others. His debut song has the energy of an angry storm. Yah, who is this?” Her eyebrows pinched, and if Seungmin hadn’t been there watching her stare behind the camera right next to him, he’d genuinely think she didn’t know he was there.
“He has a puppy-like appearance, with a soft soothing voice to boot, a budding worldstar. Who is he?” She finally places the cue card down and brings her hands up into her hair to violently drag through them, frustration bleeding from every pore. “How am I supposed to guess this?” She groans.
Seungmin skips forward again, uninterested in the deliberation she had with her staff as if he hadn't been looking right at her. He recalled watching her in almost the same way you watch a particularly dangerous animal; with rapt attention and a healthy amount of caution.
“-It’s Kim Seungmin!” The video resumes as Seungmin watches himself walk into frame, a practised, easy-going smile painfully carved into his skin. Applause erupts from behind the camera, and Ana’s face is a mask of shock as she hastily bows, grasping his hand in a firm shake.
Her palms, he could remember, had been warm, but her grip had been a bit too tight to be friendly.
Seungmin once again skips forward, knowing the section at the beginning of the interview wouldn’t be a problem; she’d been amiable, managing the first part in one take. It was near the middle of the interview where her questions shifted from practised curiosity, focused on his new album, to personal, bordering on rude.
His finger hovered over the screen as it resumed.
“It says here that before pursuing singing seriously, you were very talented at baseball? Why the change?” Through the screen, he could remember finding it almost funny the sheer incredulity on her face. His mirth was betrayed by a small smile on his face, easily misinterpreted as nostalgia for the sport he had loved.
“I wouldn’t say very talented, but I enjoyed it at the time. As for the change. I broke my leg, so I was forced to stay still more than ever.” He watched himself rub the back of his neck. “I guess it was a matter of circumstance.”
“My gosh, how’d you break it?”
“I-”
-his body was held down by his shoulders, another set of hands keeping his thin arms from wiggling free. Someone was sitting on his leg, the other being lightly, tauntingly, tapped by his favourite bat.
His chest rose and fell rapidly, eyes staring into bottomless brown.
The bat was swung up and down.
“It’s nothing interesting, it was a training accident, the field I was using was not well taken care of. I liked to go there to think, and my foot got stuck in a divot.” His face was neutral, carefully so; this was nothing, a little story to add to whatever wiki people had for him.
Her face scrunched up in what he could tell was the most honest expression she’d shown this entire video.
“Is it fine now? I’ve heard breaks can become big problems later on if they aren’t properly taken care of.” She leaned forward, her face twisted in faux concern.
“Yes! It’s all healed now, and I’m kind of glad in a way, without it I never would’ve begun seriously singing.”
Seungmin holds down the bar at the bottom, dragging it to the most viewed part of the video, uninterested in anything else in the video.
It was also making him sick, looking at her eyes.
The video resumes, and the change is immediate; it’s obvious this part is unedited, the lighting is off, and the angle is fixed, capturing both of them in a wide shot. It’s also caught them mid-conversation; he’s answering a question. But anyone could guess what the question was: Have you heard of Stray Kids since you left?
“Not really, perhaps in passing, but music from here is still growing in popularity in the UK.” He’d know then it wasn’t something he could brush past, forcing his face painfully into an expression of polite interest, as if these people meant nothing to him at all. “As you probably know, I was on the survival show years ago, just before I left Korea, but I never really kept up with it.”
Seungmin feels his stomach drop as several clips from the survival show are played in quick succession.
His introduction to the other members, cute moments between them, and him acing all the challenges, up until the end.
He watches the face of the young boy, a face he wore so long ago it feels foreign. The crying of his fellow trainees, not that it had anything to do with Seungmin’s departure.
There is bright text overlaying the clip, presumably to get past copyright.
The clips disappear, and he sees her bright, smiling face.
He hopes the video gets taken down.
“Are you still in contact with the others?” It was a stupid question; everyone knew the answer, she was just forcing him to confirm.
He watched his own face twist into something ambiguous enough that many would understand it to be awkwardness.
“Ah, I never kept in contact with the others after the show.” He can watch his face twisting, realising the question was too invasive, and he can tell the moment Iseul was alluding to is approaching.
“I’m really sorry if this is rude, but could we pivot the questioning? It’s just a bit awkward. I don’t really want to be talking about my past this entire time.” At the time, he could remember the ball of anxiety in his stomach, but also that the discomfort of speaking up was far less than the discomfort of answering these questions.
She sighed, and you could see the carefully placed mask slip away; it was uncanny.
“Yah, Seungmin,” He felt angrier watching the moment than he had when it was happening. “Everyone’s curious about what happened at the end of the show; there was no elimination scene for you. You were just gone, people want to know why. Don’t you think your fans deserve it?”
“I understand that, but people have been wondering for years; I’m sure they can survive without knowing.” This time, his tone was snappy instead of polite; she was crossing the boundary between polite interview questions and invasive digs into his life.
“So you don’t think your fans deserve to know why you were kicked out? Because you were kicked out, weren’t you, what was it again?” She looks down at her cue cards as if anything she’s saying is scripted. What a joke. “Creative differences, the go-to answer for we fucking hated each other, and I had to go.”
“I don't understand how my relationship with Stray Kids is releva-”
“Of course, it’s relevant! It’s the only reason youstill have fans anyway!”
“I-”
“What do you think you, you Mr I left the country the moment I completed my military service, somehow still had a fanbase?” Her hands flew up in the air. “I mean, even on the show, you weren’t a fan favourite! Like fuck me, your arrogance is almost astounding!”
There is a moment of silence; he watches his own face with rapt fascination. It’s funny, really, seeing his face stay so carefully blank; it’s as if he’s in perfect control of his emotions and not inwardly raging.
“So?” She urges, her manicured nails wrapped around the now crumbled cue cards, tapping on the table separating them. He could recall what it felt like in that moment, the stares of those behind the camera digging into him, the silence on set, not even a whisper.
“We both know none of what you just said is going to make it onto your channel; you have a carefully cultivated image to ruin it by yelling at me.” His response is calm, his legs cross over the only evidence of his anxiety. She goes to open her mouth again, but he continues. “I don’t know why you want to know personally, because I can tell this is personal, but quite frankly, it's none of your business.”
He stands up.
“And unless you are willing to change your questions, I’ll just leave. I make all my own decisions; the company offers me interviews, but I can always decline. I wanted to help those dogs get some attention to maybe get a better home while I’ve got a few eyes on me.”
Her eyes look especially dark without the lighting changes made in post editing. Her legs cross over each other.
“Oh, do you feel all big now that that’s off your chest?”
“Do you feel big talking down to me like that?”
They were at a standstill.
His hands were clenched, but he could just make out that they were shaking. Which means the fans definitely could too. Isn’t that just perfect?
“Fine, sit back down.” She unclenches her fist around the cue cards and leans back into the chair. “Cut everything related to Stray Kids, and we’ll continue.”
The video paused automatically as his screen shifted, displaying ‘Old Lady Manager’ as the caller ID.
He sighs and answers, putting the phone on speaker while he lies back down.
“Did you watch the video?”
“Yep.”
“An editor on her show has come out with a litany of allegations against her, and she left this bit in to shed light on how Ana acts behind the scenes. She’s also released a bunch of other behind-the-scenes clips, but they aren’t going anywhere near as viral as yours.”
“Hm.”
“You just got caught in the crossfire of a workplace dispute.”
“Great.”
“New Hope is releasing a statement, but they also think you should make a social media account to address this. I know you’ve been avoiding it, but you can’t anymore.”
“Really?”
“Really. You should’ve told me this is how she was speaking to you while I was gone-”
“Are you in trouble now?”
She sighs; it sounds so tired.
“A little bit, but nothing I can’t get out of, don’t worry. Luckily, you responded fine to her provocation, so the fans aren’t angry with you, but it has created a fresh debate about your relationship with Stray Kids.”
“Amazing.”
“Make the account, send it to me, release your statement, and our social media manager will repost it on the company account. Then, Seungmin?”
“Yeah.”
“Get some sleep, it’s starting to get light out.”
“Only if you do too.”
She laughs.
“We both know that’s not happening.”
“Bye.”
“Good night, Seungmin.”
---
@sleepiewizard
She can’t be serious, is she crazy?? Her careers ruined now and for what to talk shit about Seungmin?
@elder888thief
Atiny won’t stand for this disrespect to a new idol. Especially one so sweet!!
@loomin000
Poor Seungmin I hope he didn’t get upset at this:(((((
@annaheatlove2004
Stray Kids OT9
@namjoonsfaveourite
She’s just voicing what everyone wants to know, like what even happened between Seungmin and the others. I thought they were close on the show, but then he just disappears?? IDK he’s kinda shady.
---
@ana.m_안아
Page 16/16
So to summarise:
1. I am pursuing legal action against the editor who posted this video. Anyone who makes defamatory comments about me will also face legal consequences.
2. I asked such hard-hitting questions because many fans of Stray Kids want answers. What I was not expecting was such an aggressive response from him, and I got defensive. I am not one to take rudeness lying down.
3. I hope everyone remembers who Kim Seungmin is and the controversies surrounding him. Choose your idols well.
I’m truly sorry to anyone who was disappointed with my rudeness and thankful for the fans still defending me. Don’t worry, this will be dealt with swiftly, and videos will be back soon.
---
@miniseungkim
Hi, this is Kim Seungmin.
Please do not harass anyone under my name. I appreciate the worry you have for me and your protectiveness; however, I worry about any legal ramifications you may face.
I would also appreciate it if you did not direct your anger at my manager, as they were out of the room at the time this occurred, so they were unaware it was happening.
New Hope will pursue legal action from here on against Ana Melnyk and her company for defamation in response to several online comments she has made post-interview.
I’m sorry to any fans that were looking forward to a simple interview, but don’t worry, more content will be released soon!
Look after yourselves and get some good sleep!!
zᶻ ૮˶- ﻌ -˶ა⌒)ᦱ
---
Seungmin sighs, rolling his shoulders back as he punches in the code to his front door. He can hear some trainees in the building waking up for morning practice just as he’d headed to bed.
He clumsily pulls off his shoes, leaving them in a messy pile by his door, dropping his coat and mask on his almost unused couch as he walks past. The warm light of the sun rise illuminates his cold apartment.
It’s empty.
It almost looks like a showroom, the type of place you show a potential renter just before they buy, devoid of any personal belongings or mess, bar the ones he’d just created.
He sets about doing his nighttime routine, but just before climbing into bed, his phone vibrates. He debates ignoring it, but considering the recent drama that had unfolded, thinks better of it and opens his phone.
Old Lady Manager
‘Check your Instagram now.’
His eyebrows furrow.
Then rise, as he stares blankly down at his screen.
Among the thousands of new followers he’d accrued over the last hour since creating it, a few names stood out.
Seven more than any other.
i.2.n.8 started following you. 9m
gnabnahc started following you. 9m
hyunjinnnn started following you. 9m
yong.lixx started following you. 8m
t.leeknowsaurus started following you. 8m
_doolsetnet started following you. 8m
jutdwae started following you. 8m
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”