Day one.

I wasn't hungry. The papers remained littered around me, and KyuMin would knock them around with his paw for a while, but then quickly become bored. Eventually he gave up trying to make me laugh, just sitting next to me on the couch. 

More knocks on the door. I wasn't moving.

Jung Ah. 

"Minsung, do you want me to cancel your schedules? I can, but you have to say something. I have to know."

I curled myself into a ball, staring at the papers on the floor.

"Minsung, everyone's worried about you. Do you want to talk about it?"

Go away. Just leave me alone.

"I'll just cancel your schedules, then. Make sure you tell me... when you're feeling better."

My phone rang. I turned it off, hiding it under a pillow on the couch.

Day two.

I didn't go on the computer. I didn't read any books. I didn't attempt any math problems, or draw anything. Whatever I did, it only seemed to make it worse. The internet showed me e-mails that I didn't want to see. My favorite books reminded me that Zhou Mi still had my quote book, that he had attempted to read Emily Dickinson's poetry. All of my music just reminded me of the one thing I was supposed to be good at. My drawings just reminded me of the burning ache I had felt while in Chile.

The only reason I got up was to feed KyuMin. He didn't need to suffer because of whatever I was going through. And he had been a calm and patient companion all this time, not crying or meowing, not even rubbing against me, trying to get attention. He had simply sat right next to me on the couch the entire time, keeping a silent vigil.

I had no energy to eat, no desire to sleep. I stared at the empty notebook, waiting for my frozen heart to thaw.

Day three.

Another knock on the door.

"Mel? It's Henry. You'd open for your brother, right? We have to practice for the FASE versus Kyu-Line and Psycho Club concert, remember? Maybe you can use the competition to let out some frustration. I brought chocolate!"

Eventually even Henry gave up.

Later. "Minsung-ah, have you eaten anything? Are you hungry?"

Sweet Wookie. I hoped he was happy with his girlfriend.

Later still. "Hey, Queen Be, when I said we should lock you in a room for a few days to get your pale skin back, you know I was kidding, right? You're going to make yourself sick. Especially if you don't eat anything." Of course, Lela was worried if I got sick. It would make her job much harder.

"Mel? Meeeeeelllllllyyyyyyyyyyyyy... we can help, right? I brought some root beer from Wisconsin! Meeeellllll! Seriously! Root Beer! I'll tell you about We Got Married!" 

I could tell Eliz was trying to be funny. But I didn't feel like drinking root beer. 

Late at night, in pitch darkness, nothing to light the room but the dim light peeking through the curtains, reflecting off of KyuMin's wide-open green eyes.

What do you do, when you become so involved with a person that you lose sight of yourself?

I froze. There. There it was. That was all I needed.

I flicked on the lamp. I grabbed a pencil from somewhere on the floor and set it to the single blank sheet of paper left in the notebook.

Somewhere between finding my future
and loving you,
I forgot who I am.

At some point I lost sight of the road
I was trying to go down,
keeping you as the only thing in my vision.

I wanted to keep you to myself,
to cling to you with everything I had,
not knowing that I was letting some other things go.

I'm not the same person you first said you loved.
You knew me before I was this hideous, selfish thing.
You loved me when I followed me dream with fierce passion,
back when I fought to keep everything important
as close to me as I could,
back when my dream came first,
and everything else second,
back when every piece of me
was used to help people.
Back when I was beautiful.

What do you do
when your ideal future
becomes reality?

When everything seems like it could be perfect,
when your happiness overflows
and you're seeing the world in pink?

What do you do
when it's not the perfect world
you thought it would be?

I'm not the same girl you said you loved.
You knew me before the rest of the world.
You loved the beautiful face of kindness and honesty,
back before I put on the ugly mask of false smiles,
pretending everything was fine,
back when I held you at a distance,
afraid of when I would let you go,
back when every fabric of my being
was burning with kindness,
back when I was beautiful.

This face everyone admires,
is the ugliest I've ever worn.
I hate it, and I want to throw it away.
I can't ask you to love me now.

I wish I could remember what I was like back then,
so I could return to the way I was...
back when I was beautiful.

It wasn't until I put the pencil down that I realized I'd been holding my breath. I let it out, my lungs starting to ache. I breathed again, reaching down to run my hands through KyuMin's fur.

He purred, rubbing against my hand.

Still, I did not open the door.

"Mel? Mel, open this door or I'll break it open!"

I sat up, only then realizing that I'd fallen asleep. 

"Don't think I can't. Or won't. Because I can. And will. I'm armed with a bloody chair. I'll get charged with vandalism if I have to."

British. A British accent, sounding absolutely furious.

I got up, walking to the door hesitantly. My legs felt weak.

"I'm not just going to give up. I'm going to bloody wait out here. And starve myself. Just like you're doing. And it will be all your fault."

I opened the door a crack, but it was enough for Min Hee to yank it open and tackle me with a hug.

She didn't let go. "You look like Hell, you stupid girl."

"How did you know?"

"How did anyone bloody know?! You stopped talking to anyone. You shut off your bloody phone, you don't show up to any of your bloody events, and you completely forget to even go to bloody concert practice for the show that is in, incidentally, a little over the week."

I'd never heard Min Hee swear so much. I didn't know if I was shocked or amused. Somewhere in that zone.

She let go, then grabbed my arm and pushed me back onto the couch. She walked straight into the kitchen, and within a few moments I could hear the frying pan going, and cupboards open, and food being prepared. Suddenly I was aware of my roaring stomach, full of nothing but air.

She came out with a piece of toast and a fried egg, fried hard with extra salt, just the way I liked it.

She set it down in front of me, then sat down on the couch next to me.

"Alright, time to get out of the shame bubble. Spill."

She'd never been so demanding. I couldn't help it. I told her everything, from the plane ride to Chile, all through my nights looking at the stars, all the way to when I had shut the door behind the man I was so in love with that I'd lost sight of anything and everything else.

She was quiet the whole time, not saying a single word, just listening. When finally I was finished, she sat silently for a long time, then picked up the egg, grabbed my chin in one hand, and shoved a forkful of the stuff into my mouth.

"Eat."

It tasted like rubber, but that didn't matter. I chewed, afraid of what she'd do if I didn't. "You're not going to say anything?

She shook her head. "I don't write music. I can't help with what you're going through. I don't understand lack of inspiration, and I don't understand why it's so important to you. I'm not you. But I do know how important it is that you have a friend right now. You can't shut everyone out just because you feel worthless. Idol, remember? Everyone's looking up to you. What are you showing the little girls that say 'I want to be like Queen Be when I grow up?' Aren't you showing them that failure is okay, that you don't have the right to be happy?"

I took another bite of the tasteless egg, chewing mechanically. "Why do people still care about me, after everything I do? Why would someone still try to stay with me, after I cast them away?"

She raised an eyebrow. "It's just what people do." From her pocket, she pulled a small candy, holding it out to me and smiling. "Blue raspberry?"

I took it, laughing. It had only been days, but it felt like forever. 

"And, about you kicking poor Zhou Mi out..."

I braced myself. 

"Did it work?"

I looked up at her. Then I reached over onto the table and picked up the notebook paper, covered in words on both sides. I handed it to her, and she read it over, her lips moving as she mouthed the words to herself.

She put it down on the table. "It worked."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Do you feel good about it?"

I felt awful about it. "No."

"Then chances are, you have to figure out a way to find balance."

"How do I do that?"

"That's up to you. You're a smart kid. Figure it out. I guarantee he's taking this just as hard as you are."

I took the last bite of egg, swallowing it, then washing it down with the cup of tea she'd brought out.

KyuMin jumped onto her lap, and she smiled and petted him until he purred. Then finally, after a while, she sat up, brushing cat hair off of her beautiful hands. 

"Now, let's see if we can't get this place cleaned up. Then you can go and turn that lovely bit of work into your company. After that, what about you come join us for some music practice?"

I thought about it, then, finally, gathering my strength, nodded.

"Good. Now get up. You can go put the books away. I'll see what I can do about the paper all over the place."

I smiled, happy to know I had my friend with me again. Everything was far from okay. But at least I was reviving from my frozen state, returning to life.

"MEL!" I was tackled by hugs, surrounding me with so many pairs of arms that I couldn't determine whose were whose.

"Are you okay? God, Min Hee, what did you DO?!" Eliz asked.

"We tried root beer, chocolate, cheddar cheese, even Ryeowook's cooking! Nothing!" Henry lamented.

"I know. There was a massive pile of food outside my door. You would've thought a whole bunch of fangirls tracked me down."

"Good to know her sarcasm's back," Jessica retorted. 

"Does your manager know where you are?" asked Amber.

"Nope."

She laughed and high-fived me, and I smiled at her, turning to the whole group. "Alright, so we only have a week left to practice. You might have to help get me up to speed."

"Alright kiddos, Queen Be's back. First person to make her feel like a stupid idiot gets a break!" Min Hee yelled, and they all cheered, pulling me into the group.

"Why do you think you're here, Miss... Choi?"

I looked up at the therapist sitting across from me. Highly reccommended Psychological Therapist. Jung Ah had sent me to her as soon as she had found me at KBS's practice studio with the members.

"I'm here because I had a mental breakdown, broke up with my boyfriend for no reason people can understand, and then locked myself in my room, refusing to see even my best friends."

"Alright. Do you know why that is?"

"You're the expert. You tell me."

She leaned forward, putting on a friendly face. "Minsung, I hope you realize that I'm trying to help you. Not as Queen Be the idol, but as Choi Minsung, the person."

"Do you have any hobbies, Ahjumma?" I asked, leaning forward, like she was.

She leaned back, intrigued. "Yes, I do. In my spare time, I like to paint. Why?"

"I'm a songwriter."

"Well, yes, of course, but..."

"No. See, this is your job. And you paint on the side, correct? You paint because you enjoy it. Intrinsic motivation."

"Yes, that's true." She ran her finger over her bottom lip thoughtfully. I got the feeling most of the patients she received hadn't received much Psychology education.

"And you engage in psychology to pay the bills. True, you may enjoy psychology. Listening to famous people cry to you about their problems. But it's a job."

She nodded, waiting for me to go on.

"The job everyone knows me in is Queen Be, singer, actress. That's the job that pays the bills. But I came here to songwrite. It's more than my hobby. The one thing I can do better than anyone else. In teenage years we go through an identity crisis. We figure out who we are. What we want to do with our lives. Piaget's stages."

"You've been well-educated, Minsung-shi."

"A rare good American high school education. My point is, in my teenage years, my identity crisis was solved by writing. I wanted to do it. I wanted to make it into my profession. It was expression. It was my remarkable ability with words twisted into art. You're a painter. You understand art, right?"

"I'm hardly an expert, but... yes, I'd like to think I do."

"Now, since you're the expert, you tell me what happens when  your identity-providing occupation suddenly takes a backseat."

She smiled, happy to finally arrive at a spot she could help. "Love."

"I'm hardly experienced enough to know. But somehow I stopped writing. Lack of interest. It was more than writer's block. Literally, I was starting to find excuses to not write. The one thing I enjoy more than anything else. For six months. I came back to Korea and suddenly realized that it was a serious problem. There was pressure. Write songs. That's what you're good at. That's what people were saying."

She nodded, taking a breath and closing her eyes for a moment before smiling up at me. "I'm glad you're being cooperative. Admittedly, from your voice tone, I thought you'd be stubborn about this."

I shook my head. "I know it's a problem. That's the first step to solving it. I've done everything I can to try and figure out how I can still write, with all of those emotions I always used to have, and still be happy. I didn't want to let go. I've always done the exact opposite. I don't make a lot of intimate relationships. I hold onto the ones I have. But I would hate myself if I were to pull him down with me. And I know, if I were to do it, he wouldn't complain. He's like that. He'd just take it, smiling that beautiful smile and saying that it doesn't matter to him. Even though I know it does."

"Maybe you matter more to him."

"Just like my writing means more to me than acting. That doesn't mean I don't care about acting."

She nodded, shrugging. "True. Now, do you want to know what I think?"

"I'm all for it."

"I think you try to take too much responsibility onto yourself. You don't want to hurt other people, so you're constantly taking their well-being into account. You go out of your way to help people. You overwork yourself, trying to be a singer, an actress, and, of course, a songwriter. As an idol, you try to always put on a good face, to encourage your fans, in addition to get along with your friends and co-workers."

She leaned back, playing with her bottom lip again. Nervous gesture.

"I think you were handling too much stress at once, even though you may not have even noticed at the time, since you've gotten very good at dealing with this stress over the past few years. You do seem to have some confidence issues when it comes to people you're close to. As a result, you push people away when you think you might be burdening them. It's true, you didn't want to let go of your boyfriend. But in your personal experiences, you learned that much of your writing ability comes from your emotions. None of which, at the time, you were feeling, because you found yourself happy with him. You saw happiness as the source of the problem."

"Because it usually is."

She smiled, nodding. "Because it usually is."

All that talking, and we were right back to where I'd arrived when I'd first closed my door.

"But..." she said, jerking me back from my thoughts, "is it impossible to imagine that your mind was encountered with new emotions, and hadn't yet learned to adapt its skills to that? Perhaps the overwhelming stress you were putting on yourself in other categories was restricting your ability to cope."

I thought about it, then took a deep breath, then nodded. "What do you recommend, doctor?"

"Relax. I know that halting your activities is unlikely, but try to avoid filling it up completely. Leave plenty of time for your friends and family. For your significant other, however..." she paused, folding her hands neatly together. Another nervous gesture. "I think perhaps you should give yourself a little time. You're both hurt right now, and you're still recovering. Perhaps giving yourself a little space is the best thing to do. Especially because you're already questioning your ability to hold a relationship together."

I exhaled, smiling. "Thanks, Doc. I appreciate it."

I shook her hand, and walked out, feeling her eyes on my back.

"So how's he doing?" I asked Henry after FASE practice was over.

"How's who doing?"

"You know who."

He frowned. "Oh."

I could tell what the answer to my question was, just from that one word. Henry wasn't hard to read. 

"I need to know, Henry."

"You sure?"

"I didn't let go because he did anything wrong, or because of any lack of emotion for him."

He frowned again. "There's definitely something wrong. But if you didn't know him real well, you'd never know. He's really great at smiling and pretending everything's fine. He laughs really loud at my jokes. He comes up with excuses to miss practices. Very much not like him."

I felt the hole in my stomach. I wanted to talk to him, but I knew I shouldn't. Not yet. Not until I was ready.

I went back to my apartment, taking the extra time to clean KyuMin's litter box and give my loyal kitty a treat. I ate a small piece of toast for supper, then showered, letting the hot water soak in, trying to make myself relax. Schedules started again the next day.

I crawled into bed, under the covers, my room dark. 

And, no matter how much I shifted, moving the blankets around, I couldn't seem to get warm. Everything was much colder without a pair of arms to curl into.

A swirl of activity. My song was being given to Zhang Liyin, of all people, finally getting a comeback after all this time. The title was "Back When I Was Beautiful," and the number of girls who said they wanted to do it was remarkable. Still, I agreed with the staff's decision. I hadn't composed the music for it, but it was a powerful ballad, and Liyin-jiejie fit the bill.

"Minsung, you could keep that song in Korea! Come on! Help a sunbae out!" Taeyeon pleaded, shaking my arm. We were at an SMTown meeting, where the event directors were laying out the details for the concerts, but the meeting hadn't started yet.

"Come on, Sunbae, don't be selfish. Liyin-jiejie hasn't gotten a song all to herself in a while. Longer than it's been since I've written a song.

A tall figure in the corner of my vision. Don't look at him. Keep smiling at Taeyeon.

"Did you write anything else?"

I nodded. "Depressing stuff. But that's going to stay with me for a while, since I want to compose it myself. We'll see about that opener for the SMTown concert once the FASE/Psycho Club/Kyu-Line battle is over."

"Yes, and regarding that opening song..." the voice that interrupted our conversation was icy and cold, and all too familiar. Snow Leopard Lady. "If you can't have it for us within the next few weeks, I'm afraid we'll have to choose another opening. And that would be awfully inconvenient for everyone. 

I nodded. "I understand, ma'am. I'll work on it as soon as I can. Though, you know, my therapist said to take it easy for a while..."

"I'm aware. We've taken considerations into that with your schedules."

I nodded, turning back to Taeyeon, but then she added, "oh, and by the way, Minsung..." I looked back at her, to see her icy smile. "I am so glad you decided to put value on your career. It's good to know that you're able to see your responsibilities."

She nodded and walked away, and I hated her. I knew what she meant, even though she didn't come out and say it. Their plan to send me to Chile had worked, after all. Just not in the way they'd thought. And she was delighted.

"The mix is written, and sounds pretty awesome, but... we can't just get rid of the "I Kissed A Girl" part just because no one wants to do it..." Jessica pointed out. 

I raised my hand. "I'll sing it."

The other girls gave me surprised looks. "Are you serious?" Krystal asked.

Em shrugged. "Mel was going to be the president of GSA before she got recruited to SM."

"It's just a song. It's not like I'm saying I'm a lesbian just by singing a few lines. Besides, she even comes right out and says 'don't mean I'm in love tonight'. Not like there's anything wrong even if I was."

I looked around at the other girls, challenging anyone to say differently. They didn't.

"Alright, then, Minsung will sing it. So we can change the choreography there to put her in the middle..."

"Does that keep it at a balance?" Ali asked, looking at the sheet music in Tiffany's hands.

"I think so. The Rstory girls take most of the choruses, since you guys didn't want to dance..."

"Right," Eliz confirmed.

"Great."

"Practice time?"

"Practice time. We only have two nights before the concert. We have to show those other groups what FASE can do!" Amber cheered, and we all joined in. One team. It'd been a long time since I was a part of a team. Not since I'd been a trainee.

So many people. For a charity concert, the concert venue we'd rented was extremely full. Thanks to the cooperation of KBS, we'd been able to get one, and the usual Music Bank showtime was taken up by it, since our concert had gone from just a fun little competition to a televised event that practically everyone was watching. 

We were going to do fine. We had a nice blend of instrumentals and dance, so we could defnitely keep up... with... Kyu-Line...

"WHAT?! Oh god. Oh God, oh God. Cho AhRa?!" 

Min Hee looked up. "What? Who?"

"Kyuhyun's noona. Cho Ahra. The one who totally plays the violin, like, REALLY well. I did NOT account for her. I didn't even think about her at all..."

Min Hee rolled her eyes. "Mel, it's just for fun. Whether we win or lose, it doesn't really matter. We just did it for fun."

I looked up into her dark brown eyes, then nodded.

She continued looking at me, holding me by the shoulders, not letting my eyes turn away. "Are you okay, Queen Be?" she asked, suddenly serious.

"No," I answered, being honest.

"Do you think you can do this?"

"Yes."

She nodded. "Don't forget, things can get crappy, but you still have the right to be happy. You;re the one who taught me that, remember?"

"I don't remember that."

She rolled her eyes, then grabbed Henry's hand as he passed. She slapped our hands together, shaking them. "We're going to go out there, and Mel is going to be amazing, just like the rest of us. Is she not?"

Henry shrugged. "I think so." He looked at me, grinning. "What do you think, Queen Be? Think you can let out some of that frustration?"

I nodded, and he jumped, pumping a fist in the air, "then let's have ourselves a CONCERT!"