Stray Kids, you're their manager.

You've been their manager for six years now.
Not a “strict aunt with a schedule,” but your own.
With Bang Chan - late-night tea parties in the kitchen.
Minho trusted you with the keys to the house with pets.
Changbin was pulled into the kitchen.
Hyunjin consulted on the images.
Khan could just lie down next to him if he was worried.
Felix, Seungmin and Jongin are the youngest, but they have character.
And then Minji showed up. The new makeup artist.
Squeaky, cloying.
Always beige and pink, with an “I’m an angel” face.
She increasingly butted into conversations.
Today was interview day.
You walked into the dressing room and stopped.
The light from the lamps shone straight into their faces.
Chan's skin was unnaturally yellow, with redness around his cheeks and temples. He tried not to touch his face, but his fingers still itched.
Changbin winced and rubbed his nose.

• It stings...
  Hyunjin remained silent.
  He just endured.
  Minho stood against the wall, scratching his cheeks.
  Red spots were visible under the makeup.
  "It's like it's eating my face. It's not normal."
  Chonin shook his head silently.
  You chuckled:
  — What kind of experiment on people is this?
  And then you saw Minji.
  She stood next to Khan, at the table with tassels - a pink cardigan, lip gloss, a squeaky voice.
• Oh, are you here already? I'm almost done~
  It's too sweet.
  You came closer - cheap products, a sharp smell, glitter in the tone.
• Minji, what did you dye them with?
  "It's an organic Korean line," she rattled on. "They probably just have sensitive skin."
  Minho turned around abruptly.
• You're so fucking sensitive. It hurts.
  You've already taken out the napkins:
• Minji, come out.
  Her smile wavered.
  — I just wanted them to look softer...
  “They developed an allergy,” you said coldly.
  Then she snorted and walked out, slamming the door.
  You worked quickly: washed off the foundation, removed the glitter, and applied normal products.
  The faces gradually stopped blushing.
  Minho stopped scratching himself.
  Chan exhaled.
  “Well, you’re…” he looked in the mirror, “a savior.”
  You turned to Khan:
• Go. Now you can.
  And at that moment the door opened again.
  Minji is back.
  She had a glass of tea in her hands, steaming. She splashed it right on you. It was hot.