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I look at myself in the mirror. Those tired eyes laced with makeup. Those hair ladled with spray. And those clothes, covering the weary body.

I hesitantly wiped away the layers of disguises piled on my face. Revealing the dark circles, revealing the imperfections. My fingers lingered longer on the small scar at the corner of my eyes, from when I fell during the dance practice two weeks ago. And I realized there were things others would never know about me – the pain, the tears and those sweat I shed.

I shrugged off the leather jacket and in an instant I seemed to have shrunk a size. My tired body found no energy to stand straight as I allow my shoulders to slump. I pulled off the white shirt and eyed my own body. And I wonder why it looked so different from the poster stuck on my wall. Why do I look so different. What happened to the strength, the spark and the confidence? And I wonder what would the world says if they see this. Will they still love me like they do now? Will they pity me or will they turn away?

I hear the door open, and feel a pair of familiar arms wrap around me.

“What are you looking at, my precious baby?” He muttered as he buried his head into the crook of my neck.

“Looking at the imperfections, hyung.” I answered, enjoying the intimate moment with him.

He turned me around, and poked my cheeks with his slender fingers, “What imperfections?”

I laughed lightly as I caught the mischievous spark in his eyes. I closed my own and sigh as he placed a kiss on my forehead.

“I love you, my perfect perfect baby.”

I smiled at the words. Maybe it doesn’t matter what the world thinks after all.

--

Because sometimes I wonder what's left when all else fades.

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