It was that time of year again. The time where friends would spend time together and lovers would stay in bed. It was that time of year where Kim Jongdae was pushed further into the background. While some spent time fixing their hair and driving expensive cars, he would have his hands clutched tight around a cheap microphone.

"I'd rather be smart than handsome."

Those were the words he would always mutter under his breath. Jongdae knew he wasn't anything special. He knew that he would have to marry a simple girl while others married girls of high class.

Jongdae was as plain as a blank sheet of paper. Even if he had enough money for surgery, it wouldn't have been enough to hide who he was.

A boy who was plain but smart. A boy who was gentle but cold.

A boy whose voice was the only thing saving him.

The idea of falling in love with who a person was on the inside was something he had always held onto. Even when Jongdae was pushed around, that idea still stuck with him. He had high hopes of finding someone who would love him for who he was. Yet the years went by and not a single girl glanced at him. 

"According to astronomy, when you wish upon a star, you're actually a few million years late. That star is dead just like your dreams."

Those were the words that destroyed that idea. So while other boys were able to hold onto another person's hand, Jongdae held on tighter to his microphone. A microphone that was slowly starting to fall apart.

From when he was little, Jongdae was in the background. Even after his parents bought him nicer clothes, he was still in the background. 

Jongdae was alone in the world. He was ugly, poor and alone. What kind of girl would want to stay by his side? What kind of girl would hold his hand and walk with her? What kind of girl would spend her time in bed with him?

No one.

So Jongdae spent his time in the karaoke bar where he felt safe and warm. It had become a second home to him, a place where no one would be able to see his face. A place where he can explore and live in different worlds. A place where his life was happy. A place where he could run away from reality.

It was that time of year again. That time of year where lovers kissed and friends hugged. That time of year where plain Kim Jongdae wandered deeper into the row of rooms. Where he wandered deeper to escape.

"Jongdae-ssi?"

Jongdae looked up to see the familiar owner smiling at him through his old fashioned glasses. He quickly bowed before slipping his some bills onto the counter. The old man simply nodded and handed him a drink, knowing the boy would need it.

"When's the recording?" He smiled, "I heard you got a new song."

"Tomorrow," Jongdae answered, "He's filming the music video soon."

"Really? Are you going to be in it?"

Jongdae forced a smile, "Yeah."

Slipping the drink inside his bag he made his way to the room. He hesitated when his fingers grasped the door handle, his mind racing.

Should I just stay here? Jongdae wondered. Can't I just stay here?

Snapping himself back to reality, he made his way inside the room and grabbed the microphone nearby. His voice filled the room as he practiced, his voice shaking slightly as he read the sheet in his hands. After several attempts, he gave up once the machine shut off. 

"It's time to go home."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know I took so long."

"You can always come back tomorrow."

"I will."

Grabbing the sheets in front of him, Jongdae slung his bag over his shoulder. The cool summer breeze hit his face as he stepped out, his eyes avoiding the people walking by. He walked towards the subway station and heard laughter nearby. His heart raced as he watched a beautiful girl waving. Her eyes landed on his and angels sung as her lips spread into a wide smile. Jongdae felt his world ending as she brushed past him, making him drop his sheets.

"Watch where you're going," She rolled her eyes, "And take those dirty eyes off of me."

Jongdae picked his sheets up and flipped his hair to cover his face. People turned to stare at him and point, their snickering growing louder. He pushed past a group of people as he ran out of the station, hailing a cab instead. The streets were lit brightly before growing dark as the taxi turning into a small alley. The building in front was small with only four apartments. Jongdae slipped inside his apartment and threw himself onto his bed. 

He closed his eyes before opening them, the familiar moans and screams made by his neighbor. Sounds that were familiar and unfamilar to him, sounds that he only heard but never experienced. The wall shook as their moans grew louder. Jongdae forced his eyes shut and closed his eyes.

He hated this time of year. 

He hated every second of it.