As a child, he dreamed of being a singer.

 

He would dance in his small room, singing into an empty water bottle clutched in his hands, imagining himself on a big stage with sparkling lights. He could almost hear the screams of fans and the deep beats of the music as he performed.

 

Every day, he watched the celebrities on television, torn between admiration and envy, and his eyes sparkled with the kind of hope that only dreams can give. The kind of sparkle that only exists in children, because children believe that anything is possible. He wanted to be like those singers on television. Their lives looked so perfect and luxurious, and their music was acknowledged by thousands around the world.

 

As a middle schooler, he was often lost in his music. Earbuds were in his ears, whether he was at home, whether he was doing homework, whether he was in class. Music was his life, and he loved it more than ever. It became his best friend, making him smile during times of happiness and comforting his heart during times of hardship.

 

When he told his friends he wanted to be a singer, they encouraged him, but behind his back, they said that someone like him would never make it. That he was still holding onto childish dreams that would never see the light of reality. He didn’t care what they thought because he would prove them all wrong. He would keep the sparkle in his eyes, and he would succeed.

 

So he continued to sing. He sang at talent shows, at school, anywhere where he could pour his soul out. He wanted more people to hear him. He wanted to be able to share the color of his music, spread it as far as possible. Because when he raised the microphone to his lips, tilted his head back and let the shimmering notes escape, he knew that this was what he was born to do. This was what made him feel alive.

 

As a high schooler, he finally took a larger step toward his dream. After he sang at an event, a smiling man approached him and handed him a business card with a popular company’s name emblazoned across the top. He was ecstatic. The company signed him as a trainee, and he remembered the look of shock on his friends’ faces and the proud smiles of his parents. Suddenly, the stage that he had seen on television as a child, the stage that had seemed so far from his grasp, was so close that he ached for it.

 

For months, he trained. The entertainment industry was harsh and cruel, and the reality of it struck him. The other trainees stared at him on his first day, eyes evaluating him from head to toe, checking to see if he was a formidable rival. Everyone was rivals there. Behind friendly smiles was a burning competition, a need to be the best. It was an unspoken rule: fall behind, and you get trampled over. It was survival of the fittest.

 

Singing, dancing, acting, language. He’d train until late into the evening, his muscles aching and a headache from an all-nighter pounding in his temple. But he didn’t go home. He had to practice those dance moves he hadn’t been able to perfect. He needed to finish memorizing the lyrics of a song he was working on. He needed to improve.

 

He had come this far, and he refused to give up when he was so close. Because if he gave up now, it’d hurt the most. He knew that he could succeed, but he also knew that he could fail. And if he failed, he would have to live his whole life regretting what could have been. The closer the dream is, the more it hurts when it’s crushed. That’s why he gave it his all.

 

So even if he cried every night because it was so damn hard, he continued on.

 

He wasn’t alone though. He found friends in some of the trainees. Even if they were all rivals, they were in this together, and they supported each other and bonded through the hardships that greeted them. They shed blood, sweat, and tears together as they all headed toward the same goal. He was glad to know there were people he could count on.

 

And then it finally happened. He debuted in a boy group. He remembered the day so perfectly. Makeup was applied in thick layers on his face, his hair swept up into an updo. He was shoved into a pair of ridiculously tight skinny jeans that left nothing to imagination. When he looked into the mirror at the final result, he could hardly recognize himself. The man looking back at him was flawless, a celebrity. The person in the mirror had eyes that were wide with excitement and flushed cheeks, and he had a small smile on his face. His heart was pounding. His eyes still sparkled.

 

When he finally got up on that stage, he sang and danced his heart out. And when he finished, for the first time in months, he cried out of happiness, not sadness.

 

The applause was deafening.

 

His group became a sensation. He went from nobody to one of the most coveted faces in the country. He saw his face on billboards, in advertisements, on the internet. All everybody could talk about was the new boy group from the famous company.

 

He was happy at first. He could finally pay his parents back for everything they had done for him. He was doing what he loved for a living. He had succeeded.

 

But being a celebrity isn’t the glamorous and perfect life it is made out to be.

 

Each day, the sparkle in his eyes grows dimmer.

 

People follow him everywhere he goes, squealing and whipping out their cameras and phones at the sight of his face. It doesn’t matter even if he wears a mask or a hat or walks with his head down, they always recognize him. It was harmless recognition at first. A shy hello from a blushing fangirl, a request for a signature or a picture, but then it turned into mobs that suffocated him and hands that greedily grabbed at his clothes. He can’t step out of the dorm without being blinded by camera flashes.

 

His fans coo over his cute smile, his sweet laugh. They admire his perfect skin and face, his cool personality, and they always say that he is everything that a girl would ever want in a man. While those compliments make him flush and feel special, when the singer goes home at the end of a long schedule, he stands in front of the bathroom sink and wipes his face free of the mask he wears. The towel always comes away stained from layers of eyeshadow and eyeliner and foundation, and that's when he truly sees himself.

 

He looks back up at the mirror, face free of makeup, and the person that stares back at him is just another boy. The same boy that dreamed of notes and melodies. The same boy who dreamed of the future. The boy in the mirror is human. He is allowed to do what he wants to do, he is allowed to eat when he is hungry, he is allowed to act like the person he is inside.

 

He doesn’t have to have a smile frozen on his face, he doesn’t have to be perfect, he doesn’t have to act like someone he isn’t.

 

But that’s not what the world thinks. He is a celebrity, so he isn’t allowed to not be perfect. He is under constant scrutiny. Reporters pry into his private life, bothering his family members in an attempt to get a scoop. Antis comment on how he isn’t as good looking as the other members, and they mock him for all his flaws.

 

They assume that his voice cracks during performances because he doesn't have the skills. They assume that he has a pimple on his chin because he is lazy and doesn’t take care of his skin. They assume that he has a bad personality because he doesn’t smile during interviews sometimes. What they don’t know is that his voice cracks from exhaustion. They don’t realize that he tries so hard to take care of his face, but the makeup he wears every day ruins his skin. They don’t understand that he doesn’t smile during some interviews because he gets nervous in front of the camera.

 

He has feelings too. He feels hurt when he sees the comments online. There are times when he looks in the mirror and feels insecure because he’s not tall enough or he’s not as handsome as other top idols. There are times when he feels lonely even while he’s surrounded by stylists, makeup artists, managers, and fans. There are times when he wishes he could go out to grab a bite without having to hide like a criminal. What goes on behind the scenes doesn’t matter though.

 

Because all people see is that he’s famous. Thousands of girls all over the world would die to meet him. He has money and fame. He has the perfect life ahead of him. Everyone says that he is so blessed, and they feel like he’s not a part of their world. He’s like a mythical being that they can never touch; they can only admire him through the screens of their phones or their television. He’s just so far away.

 

But they forget.

Once long ago, he was just a little boy who sang to himself in his room.

He was someone who had dreams.

​He was someone with sparkling eyes.

They forget.

Before he was ever an idol,

He was a human.

 

He wishes people still treated him like one.

 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

​As a child, he dreamed of being a singer.

As a singer, he dreams of being a child.

​