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Summary
It wasn't like Seokmin wanted to turn into a rock. He did write it down on one of the stupid forms Dr. Woo made them fill, but because he had run out of all other interesting options five forms ago. Why does the doctor need such personal and often times, intrusive, information on them, anyways? Not that he was complaining. Dr. Woo was almost always right, except for the times he was horribly wrong.
Point? He didn't want to turn into a rock. He only wanted to deflate out of existence like a particularly unloved balloon, left alone to drift into the wind with no racket chasing after him.
He changes his mind soon after, because he didn't hate himself like that. He would've probably liked turning into a cat, so that Chan would have no choice but to acknowledge his incessant whining, but be accepting about it because he will be stabbed in his sleep otherwise. Terribly convenient for Seokmin.
Anything, but a rock. The lack of mouth and movement, he thinks, is his last straw. The universe hates him now. He's gotta die.
Seokmin's last (actual) straw is handpicked and added to the already growing list of multi-colored straws on his back, by his partner Chan.
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