Kim Joonmyeon was a young man of pleasant and amiable decorum, smiling so perfectly like a porcelain doll whose lips painted with red ink curved upwards, never faltering. He possessed a charming aura that seemingly drew people to him – albeit, not always and not everyone, but he was a man that would swallow the complaints silently, wordlessly and retort with a bashful grin, always apologizing.

He was always silent, burying his pain deep inside his chest cavity where the raging beast lay imprisoned by his own inability to speak up, razor teeth shining like knives, deadly and laced with corroding poison gnawing sharply at his insides, tearing them apart until he slowly drowned himself in the thick blood seeping from his inner wounds.

It was past midnight, long past the normal hours and time grazing into the mid night when Joonmyeon finally realized he had been by far too hard pushing himself that day. He was a sole soul in that practice room, other trainees long gone to tend to their wounds and sore limbs at home whilst he firmly decided to push an hour or two more until he could no longer feel, anything.

He had collapsed against the rough wall lined with cloud wallpapers whose cold seeped through the damp clothes clinging to his alabaster skin like wretched sinners in hell to salvation, biting through his sweaty body and latching to his bones, making him cry out in irritation and shiver.

It was unavoidable to hear, even for his mind suffering form lassitude and fatigue, a soft padding noise drawing closer to him. It was tentative, bashful, and out of all – insecure.

-“Hyeong?” He heard a crisp and sharp voice call him, laden with so much care and adoration Joonmyeon felt like outright throwing up.

He was too tired to raise his head and crack his eyes open, full well knowing who it was.

He felt the presence kneel down next to him and a soft gush of wind brushing ghostly over his cheek announced the approach of other’s equally sweaty palm.

“You reek of fetid and foul stench.” Joonmyeon wished to say, but instead refrained from even using so much energy as to speak. A moist palm, so unusually cold and devoid of warmth pressed against his cheek tentatively, in an exploring manner, letting the coolth snuff the fire brewing in other’s body.

His fingers were long and thin, perfectly shaped with blunt fingernails that were kept orderly and the perfect length, never too long, never bitten. Jongdae oftenmuch liked to press his palm against his cheek as to see if he’s burning up – he never was, though.

Joonmyeon suddenly remembered the cursed moment he had first heard the boy. Oh, that sole, mellifluous, dulcet voice that echoed off the encasing walls of the practice room – it was so strong, so majestic and burning with such ungraspable desire to be heard and acknowledged, to burn even brighter. It yearned to glimmer in the sky with stars.

Boy had come into the company a few months back, just like that. Out of nowhere, all of a sudden a talent – a natural talent appeared. He was majestic, Joonmyeon regretfully thought, so brilliant, so incomparable to others. Nothing could possibly sully the rich and lush tone of that voice, not when it was so clear and strong, and albeit quivering at times, the heights it reached… Jongdae was a bird, a beautiful, godly bird whose wings spanned into infinity ungraspable by human mind, flying so high, above the very peaks of mountains and all that humans could identify as mundane. Jongdae was by far above him, by far better.

The first time he had heard the sheer talent the other possessed, Joonmyeon had been secretly gripping the doorway to the practice room, pulling on a smile intended to be vibrant and cheerful, lest the others see the pain carved on his countenance.

He, too, smelled foul. Foul from sweat trickling down his body in tear shaped pearls. But it was naught of that day’s sweat – it was a sweat of years he spent in the company, singing until his head hurt from exhaustion and his ear buzzed from strain, dancing until his limbs gave out and he collapsed on the floor. It was a hard earned sweat he prized himself for – he was stubborn, stubborn enough to hold out for so long.

And then, a bird flew in. And left him dazed. Bird he loathed so passionately, with so much vigor and disgust, yet at the same time, found its voice of such a mellow and ripe flavour, of such saccharine taste and thick texture he would forget to breathe when hearing it.

And that same bird called his name once again, shy and tired, yet willing enough to seek him out. The boy liked him, so much he knew. Jongdae often sought advices from him and Joonmyeon always offered them with a smile, hiding his own regret.

All that he prized himself for – his hardworking nature and stubbornness, it was all brought down to remnants upon witnessing the natural talent the other was.

-“I’ll leave you the juice here, don’t stay for too long.” Jongdae said, his silhouette straightening sharply when he saw no response from his future band mate.

Just as he was about to turn around and walk away, Joonmyeon’s arm reached out for him, his grip weak and delicate. Jongdae’s sharp features turned around to face the older boy, softening when he saw Joonmyeon’s handsome features sullied by sweat and exhaustion looking at him in resignation. Resignation he saw as mere tiredness, yet resignation of hatred and sheer jealousy Joonmyeon long harbored.

-“Sing for me, would you?” Joonmyeon’s sonorous voice barely escaped his lips.

And Jongdae had.