Camera flashes blind Chaeyoung, turning her vision white as she gets ushered into a van. Reporters are ing microphones and recorders in her direction as they pitch countless of questions to her. The clicking of cameras and the voices of journalists all blur into monotonous static. By the time she gets into the van, her vision is dotted with white spots that remind her of stars.

They pound on the doors and tinted windows, demanding for Chaeyoung to make a statement. Everything is so noisy, her head throbs in pain. Even as the van speeds away, a few persistent ones give chase, only to give up after a while.

She runs a hand through her blonde hair, letting out a noise that sounds somewhere in between a sigh and a wry chuckle. It is an understatement to say that she is tired of this. She wonders when adoring gazes turned into scrutinizing, interrogative glares and when lips that sang of praises started to scream abuse.

Chaeyoung inhales sharply when she feels something wet on her cheeks, eyes snapping open, vision suddenly blurry and unclear. When she blinks, she feels tears escaping and coursing down. Her heart is suddenly clenching and she can only bite her lip to keep from sobbing out loud, the end of her shirt and leaving creases all over. Loneliness abruptly trespasses the recesses of her heart and she hurriedly wipes away her tears with her sleeve, the wetness staining it, making it a darker shade.

Quickly, she rolls down the windows and leans outward, allowing the wind to caress her cheeks and dry her tears. All she hears is the wind rushing past her. She breathes in the cool night air, wishing she could always do this so that she doesn’t feel too stifled. Her eyes snap shut and for a moment, she isn’t idol Chaeyoung, but Son Chaeyoung, the girl who loves music more than herself.

“What are you doing?” Nayeon asks, sounding slightly irritated, bursting the bubble Chaeyoung was in.

She opens her eyes, sitting herself down properly once more.

Chaeyoung chuckles bitterly, “Breathing.”

“Do you want the paparazzi to catch even more photos of you? After all that has happened already?” her manager warns.

It is not Nayeon who is brutal, but simply the hoi polloi. Every action of hers is documented and captured and she cannot for the life of her understand why people are so caught up with her every move. Even so, she cannot change reality, so she merely changes herself, hiding Son Chaeyoung away and letting idol Chaeyoung take over.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” Chaeyoung apologizes.

She simply rolls up the windows, feeling even further than the person she was yesterday.

///

+author's notes: this is me creating more commitments and problems for myself. please don't expect very frequent updates. i love michaeng a lot. pls give michaeng lots of love. i will sail the michaeng ship, since michaeng don't sail themselves and are currently very tragic. pls give this fic lots of love. pls give it lots of words too, since i am a human who loves comments as well c: can i just add that this fic was literally inspired by how i keep thinking mina is an angel? her beauty is ethereal TT <3

+ps: follow me on twitter @darthearts for any updates. hit me up if you want to start an in-depth discussion with me about how tragic michaeng is. or if you want to fangirl/boy about twice c: