Kim Seungmin: Spotlight

A Seungmin Ff requested by: @lojihoo <3

~ Kim Seungmin ~

I adjusted the strap of my guitar for what felt like the hundredth time, even though it didn't need adjusting. It was a habit, something to do with my hands to occupy them when I'm nervous.

"Seungmin, you're up in thirty seconds," a staff member called, gesturing toward the stage lift.

I nodded, inhaling deeply. "Alright." My voice sounded steady, at least.

I walked further towards the stage lift.

The noise of the crowd was deafening, even through the in-ear monitors. My heart was racing—more than usual. "As We Are" was special, not just because it was my solo, but because it was my chance to be vulnerable, to connect with them without the chaos of choreography or flashing lights. Just me, my guitar, and them. That's how I always wanted it.

I glanced at the stage lift. The crew gave me the thumbs up, and I nodded back, though my palms were slick with sweat. I'd done this before, sure, but the rush and adrenaline always hits.

I stepped onto the stage lift and I felt as it began to rose. The platform shaking slightly beneath me. Normal. This was normal. It always wobbled a bit. The crowd roared louder as the lights dimmed, a single spotlight following me up. I couldn't see their faces, just the endless sea of glowing lightsticks waving back and forth that warmed my heart.

I sat down at the edge, adjusting the guitar on my lap. My legs dangled freely, and I took a deep breath before strumming the first chord, and the backing track began to play. The melody flowed through the arena, and the noise from the crowd softened. It was just me and the song now.

The lyrics came naturally, my voice carrying over the quiet.

"잘해 보려고 앞만 보고 달리다가넘어져 버렸고 결국엔 뒤처지고 말았지"

I closed my eyes, letting myself get lost in the music.

"왜 하필 나만 이래 눈물나기 직전에내 옆에서 넌 울고 있었어"

The stage lift swayed slightly beneath me, but it always did that. I ignored it, focusing instead on the chords, the words, the moment.

But then, it shook again—harder this time. My eyes snapped open, my fingers faltering on the strings. I glanced down instinctively, my stomach flipping as the platform wobbled beneath me. Not normal. Definitely not normal.

The crowd didn't seem to notice yet. They were still swaying, still singing along. My breath hitched, and I tried to keep going, forcing myself to strum the next chord. My voice wavered as I sang the next line, though my head was somewhere else entirely.

And then it happened.

The lift jerked violently, tilting to one side. My hands flew to the edge, the guitar sliding off my lap and crashing down somewhere below. My heart stopped as I felt myself lose balance, the world tilting around me.

The fall wasn't long—it couldn't have been more than a few meters—but it felt endless. The air was knocked out of me as I hit the stage, my head and back slamming against something hard. Pain exploded behind my eyes, sharp and blinding, and then everything blurred.

Voices. Shouting. Footsteps thundering around me. I couldn't make sense of it. My vision swam, the bright stage lights overhead piercing through the haze. I tried to move, but my body felt heavy, unresponsive.

"Seungmin! Seungmin, can you hear me?" Someone's voice cut through the chaos, frantic and shaky. It sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it. My head was pounding, each heartbeat sending waves of nausea through me.

I tried to say something, to let them know I was... I don't know, alive? But the words wouldn't come. But I felt myself slipping away.

And then...

black.

—

When I came to, the first thing I noticed was the smell. Clean. Sterile. Antiseptic. The kind of smell that made your stomach churn even if you weren't sick. My head throbbed, a dull, ache that made it hard to think.

I blinked a few times, the bright white ceiling above me coming into focus. Hospital. I was in a hospital. My mouth was dry, my throat scratchy, and when I tried to move, a sharp pain shot through my side, forcing a groan out of me.

"Seungmin?" A voice to my left. Soft, tentative. I turned my head—slowly, because apparently even that was a Herculean effort—and saw Chan sitting there, his face pale and drawn. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"Hyung," I croaked, my voice barely audible. It hurt to talk, but the relief on his face made it worth it.

"Oh, thank God," he breathed, leaning forward to rest his head in his hands. "You scared the hell out of us."

"What...happened?" I managed, though bits and pieces were already coming back. The lift. The fall. The blinding pain.

"You don't remember?" he asked, looking up at me. His eyes were red, like he'd been crying.

"I fell," I said, more to myself than to him. "The stage... lift."

"Yeah," Chan said, his voice tight. "It malfunctioned. The platform was unstable. You... you hit your head pretty hard when you fell. It's been a couple of days."

A couple of days? That explained the dry mouth and the heavy, disoriented feeling. My stomach twisted at the thought of everyone worrying, of the chaos it must've caused. I wish I didn't do that to them, to Stay. They didn't deserve to pay for a ruined concert.

"The others?" I asked, my voice cracking as I referred to the members.

"They're fine. They've been taking turns sitting with you," Chan said, his lips twitching into a small, tired smile. "Felix and your parents were here all night. I made them go get some rest."

I nodded. My mother must be terrified.

I tried to sit up, only to have pain shoot through my back and side, making me wince.

"Don't move too much!" Chan said quickly, his hand hovering like he wanted to help but didn't know how. "Seriously, Seungmin, just... take it easy, okay? I'll call your mom soon."

I swallowed, or tried to, but my throat was like sandpaper. "Water?" I rasped.

"Oh! Yeah, hold on." Chan jumped up, grabbing a plastic cup from the table beside me and pouring water from a pitcher. He held it out carefully, watching as I struggled to lift my arm. Eventually, he held it to my lips when it was clear I couldn't manage on my own.

"Thanks," I mumbled, my voice still hoarse but at least a bit stronger.

"Don't mention it," he said, setting the cup down and sitting back in the chair. He looked like he wanted to say something else but was holding back. His knee was bouncing, and he kept glancing at the door.

"What?" I asked, narrowing my eyes slightly despite the ache in my head. "You're being weird."

Chan sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "I didn't want to overwhelm you right away, but... I should get the doctor. They need to know you're awake."

I groan. "So does my mom. "Can you call her? Tell her I'm okay?"

Chan gave me a small smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, I'll let her know." I nodded faintly, feeling guilt creep in. I hated the thought of my mom losing sleep over me.

"Alright," Chan said softly, standing from the chair. "I'll be back soon. Don't try to get up, okay?"

"Not planning on it," I muttered, trying to ease the tension in the room with some sarcasm. Chan gave a weak chuckle before stepping out into the hallway.

The room fell silent once he left, I just stared at the ceiling, trying to piece together how everything had gone so wrong so fast.

It was supposed to be a moment between me and Stay—a moment to show them my heart, my music. And instead, it had turned into this. A disaster.

I closed my eyes, exhaling shakily. My body ached, my head throbbed, but the worst pain was the sinking feeling in my chest. I'd let everyone down—the members, the fans, my family. My solo performance wasn't supposed to end with me in a hospital bed.

I'm sure Chan must have had the staff involved fired, even if they didn't mean to mess up. I didn't blame them though. It was my solo performance.

The door finally clicked open. A man in a white coat walked in, clipboard in hand, followed by Chan, who lingered by the door.

"Good to see you awake, Seungmin," the doctor said warmly, stepping closer to my bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I fell off a stage," I replied dryly, earning a soft chuckle from the doctor.

"Well, you're not wrong. You took quite the fall," he said, flipping through his notes. "You have a mild concussion, bruised ribs, and some soft tissue damage in your back. Thankfully, there's no permanent damage, but you're going to need time to recover."

I nodded slowly, my throat tightening. Time to recover meant time away from working with the group. Time away from being with Stay. "How long?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor's expression turned serious. "At least a few weeks, maybe more, depending on how well your body heals. You'll need rest and physical therapy to ensure your back and ribs heal properly. No strenuous activity during that time."

I swallowed hard. A few weeks felt like an eternity. "And after that? Will I be... normal?"

"With proper care and rest, you should make a full recovery," the doctor assured me. "But it's crucial you don't push yourself too soon."

A full recovery was good news, but the idea of being sidelined, of watching from the sidelines while the others continued without me, was suffocating.

"I'll leave you to rest," the doctor said, giving me a reassuring smile. "But if you need anything, just let the nurses know."

"Thanks," I muttered, watching as he left the room.

Chan stepped closer to my bed, his hands shoved into his hoodie pockets. "You okay?"

"No," I admitted, not even trying to hide the frustration in my voice. "I'm going to be out for weeks, maybe longer. What about the tour?"

Chan sighed, pulling a chair closer to sit beside me. "We'll figure it out, Seungmin. The most important thing is you getting better. The tour, the performances... those can wait."

"But they shouldn't have to," I said, my voice cracking. "Stay doesn't deserve this. You guys don't deserve this."

"Hey," Chan said firmly, leaning forward. "You didn't plan this. It's not your fault. Accidents happen, and no one's blaming you. Not us, not Stay."

I didn't respond, my gaze dropping to the blanket draped over me. I knew he was right, but it didn't make the guilt any less suffocating. "Can you call my mom now?"

Chan smiled faintly. "Yeah, I'll call her."

—