“Do you think my voice can reach heaven?” 

The words echo from years ago, off the same worn, tiled floor, even though they were spoken so long ago. It has been seven years. The man is just a reflection of a boy inside, gazing with his chin titled towards the rolling clouds above...

The young boy turns around, startled by the sound of footsteps behind him, “ah, sorry, I was just looking for some fresh air,” Taemin says backing up, hesitant, for imposing where he should not be.

A shy, introverted smile peeks up on the boy’s lips, “ah, me too...”

Even now, in this moment, he feels a pull to his side... He shuffles forward, unacknowledged even as he reaches his side. Silence. It has been too quiet these past few weeks... He glances over the railing, “ah, it looks like it is going to rain...” Hands grip the railing tighter. It is already raining on that side...

“Mm, focus on controlling your diaphragm... and when you take a breath, that is also important...” 

Taemin nods diligently, opening his mouth while his first vocal coach watches, arms crossed in his school uniform. “Ah-ow!”

The boy jabs him in the side, “breath before beginning!” A quick nod and they begin again. And again. Day after day. 

There is the sadness, something that does not suit him very well.

“Hyung... why don’t you practice downstairs? I understand... if you can’t help me anymore... I hear they are choosing some trainees to debut soon.” Taemin looks down at his sneakers, afraid of been a burden any longer. He was going to work hard as he could to not be a burden...

“It’s ok,” is the immediate response. Which is a lie that he tries to argue, but is interrupted, “there are too many people there... I’m... not good at meeting new people. It is overwhelming. I feel misunderstood. I’m better off up here, alone.”

Taemin looks up at his clenched fist, “hyung...” That is not true.

“So, if you want to go downstairs, or stay here.... It’s ok.”

He clenches his fists, “I’ll be here. Everyday. Without fail.”

A startled laugh, a smile.

Even now it feels so impossible to touch him. He grips the railing himself, as the sky opens up its tears.

“Why become a singer, if you...,” Taemin begins as they sit, sipping water in a companionable silence in the summer heat.

“Mmm,” he tilts his head to the side, “because I love to sing... I do not feel like I am lacking when I sing... I am understood when I sing... I can play another character in a musical, or I sing to be happy. I guess, these reasons, are why?” He smiles and begins lunch because he loves food just as much.

Will the rain stop? Will it be alright when the rain stops? These are questions that have no answers. He lets go.

Taemin reaches over and touches his cheek, where the sky’s cold tears met warm, salty ones. He looks stunned, truly in his own world, alone again. He opens his mouth to say something, but is only reminded of the harsh reality.

“It’s ok.” He wipes away some of the tears, “it has been hard on you, hyung... But I still need to lean on you for a while more... So, don’t leave me alone.”

Onew, as in gentle... Gentle heart, gentle soul. Lonely soul. Without a voice, how can his words reach the heavens? How can his heart ever be understood? The tears flow.

Hands grip onto his, they’re warm. “I understand.... It’s ok.”

Perhaps it would be so.