Now that I had an empty spot in my trainee schedule, I spent extra time going to the company to practice and rehearse on my own time. I went to the songwriters' building, getting help and advice from them, although in many ways they weren't too much help, because their English was terrible. But at least they helped me when it came to composition. I did some studying on famous Korean singers from the past, so I wouldn't be lost when my idols talked about their idols. 

Of course, I also spent some of the time doing personal things, such as making my jewelry, watching dramas, and drawing the members. Of all of the members, Sungmin was the hardest to draw, I realized with frustration. It was really hard to capture all of his Sungmin-ness.

But, more than anything, I tried to get a job. Starvation was starting to take its toll on me. I was starting to get light-headed during the days, and was tormented by frequent headaches that made it difficult for me to concentrate. I got rather irritable, snapping at the smallest bit of teasing, something I did my best to hide around the members. Fortunately, seeing them, and the members of FASE often included food, so I was usually able to keep it in check. FASE was my saving grace, in a way. Every time we would hang out, they'd pay for my meal, saying that they knew I wasn't eating well, so it was the least they could do for me. I always complained, saying that I shouldn't rely on them so much, but I was really extremely grateful. 

Wanting to maintain a good singing voice, I allowed myself to spend a little bit of extra money on tea, but it meant less money for food. I knew my family would kill me if they saw me living like that, but I just couldn't make myself ask them for help. I would always have to carry that debt on my shoulders, and I carried enough of that as it was.

Unfortunately, SM wasn't being very cooperative on the whole getting-a-job thing. They kept saying that a part-time job would distract us from our training, and we should just get financial help from our families. No matter how much Min Hee and I tried to explain that we couldn't, because our families were so far away, they never gave in, encouraging us to focus on our training, because the harder we trained, the sooner we'd debut, and the sooner we debuted, the sooner we could start making money as artist of SM, or some bulls*** like that. So we went jobless, stretching every check we got until they had only a few Won left. 

Instead, in one of my first weeks of freedom, SM decided to fill that empty space in my schedule for a certain day by having me translate for the investors again. The exhibition was smaller this time, just being a feature of the SuJu members, something I was okay with. Apparently they were trying to get a few clothing deals. At least, that's what Henry told me.

They seemed happy when I was the one who greeted them at the door again. "Ah, it's the lovely little Melissa! Are you still doing well at SM?"

"Yes, sir. I think my skills as an artist have improved a lot since we last met," I replied, putting on my most charming smile.

"Have you lost weight, Melissa? You've gotten very pretty."

"Why thank you, sir! Yes, I have. I'm delighted you noticed." I starved myself for months while continuing to work out so I could gain muscle while my ribs worked their way through my skin. Would you happen to have any food? I can't afford any.

"That's wonderful! It's incredible to see the diversity here at SM, with a trainee such as yourself. We watched your performance with the ukulele. Very lovely." 

If they kept going with the compliments, I would become self-centered. "Oh, well, it all comes with training. Now please, ladies and gentlemen, if you could just follow me this way..."

They chittered and chattered while they followed me, occasionally asking questions, and talking about how wonderful a place SM seemed. While my stomach growled, I tried to keep the smile on, just going along with their thoughts and trying not to let the truth show. This would all go down someday. All of this lying, all of this torture and pain...

Someday, when I had more power, and my place was less fragile, I would force SM to actually treat its artists and trainees as well as they pretended to. Somehow, I would crush the music factory of SM Entertainment until the wheels fell apart and they started to listen to the people, instead of turning them into exhausted machines. 

Someday.

Thy seemed interested in Henry this time, asking him a lot of questions, about how he was doing as a solo artist, if he planned on doing any promotions in the U.S, and even if he planned on endorsing any English-speaking companies. Wonderful for Henry.

While they conducted their interview with him, the rest of the Super Junior members were in the dressing room, getting ready for the photoshoot, now that the exhibition was over. My job was over for a few hours, so I wandered through the hallways, deciding to go to the vocal training room to try to compose my song again. I made my way up the stairs, running the lyrics I had already written through my head. 

As I reached the top of the stairs, I heard vicious yelling in Korean.

"Do you think you can get away with that kind of thing?! No mistakes, didn't I tell you that?! Or did your Chinese brain not understand simple Korean?!"

I eased closer, curious to see what was going on. But I didn't want to get caught spying on an argument. I might get in trouble. I hid behind a pillar, listening to the yelling where I couldn't be seen. He was shorter than the person he was screaming at by a few inches-- I'm sorry, about eight centimeters-- but I couldn't see the other person's face. He had his back to me.

"Do realize what that might have cost us?! Perfection is money! Money we're wasting on you!"

"Director-shi, I'm sorry. My voice broke, that's all. It won't happen again." He had a Chinese accent, I could tell, even though he was speaking Korean. And I knew that voice.

"You worthless piece of-- you don't even belong here! You're not even a Super Junior member!

You're just filler for a subgroup!" The yelling person grabbed his victim by the arms and shook him, red-faced.

I couldn't take it anymore. My feet moved on their own, pushing me forward through the group of men, my hands pushing the red-faced man away from his victim without any commands from my brain. I was tiny, I was a trainee, dependent on SM for everything. I didn't care. He was harassing Zhou Mi.

"Leave him alone!" I stepped in front of Zhou Mi, facing the man who I now recognized to be another one of SM's producers. "Don't you think he gets disrespected enough without the people from his own company harassing him?! Don't you think it feels terrible enough to be declared an only partial member of a group without having to be constantly reminded of it?! Do you want him to quit, is that it?! Do you want him to sue the company and leave, just like Han Geng did?! Is that what you want?!" The old grudges at SM that had been simmering at the back of my heart had just begun to boil over. I could sense all of their eyes on me; I could feel Zhou Mi staring at me wide-eyed, probably wondering what I was doing there, and why I was so infuriated by this. I didn't even have to turn around to see that. But the words continued to flood out, in a vicious torrent that would overrun the banks of the Mississippi River. Even if someone wanted to argue, I didn't give them the chance.

"Do you think you have the right to act superior, just because he's Chinese? You say that he's worthless?! Well, like it or not, he's a member of Super Junior, just like the rest of them are, and I think it's time he got treated like it! I'm sick of people treating him and Henry like they're half a person! They're not worthless; they're talented! They're not inferior, they're just different! And there are thousands of people behind me who would tell you the same thing! How many people do you have telling you to make Zhou Mi feel like crap?!"

My words ran out, and I glared at him fiercely, breathing hard from the boiling rage. My mind was screaming "I shouldn't be doing this! I should never have interfered; I'm going to get kicked out for this; what have I done?! Just get away! Run away before they recognize you! You're so stupid stupid stupid! You should just have left Zhou Mi to fend for himself; he would have been fine!" But the rest of me was frozen stubbornly in place, following nothing but my doctrine as an ELF.

I Promi15e to 13elieve, to 10ve and to prot3ct. Whether the numbers were fifteen, thirteen, ten, or three, I had promised to love and protect them. I'd thought that the anger against Henry and Zhou Mi had been solved when I started the new fanchant at the Super Junior-M concert. I guess that was a naive wish.

My mother always told me that I had the same eyes as my father: a unique green-gray that could hold the most powerful glare she'd ever seen. She said it was always funny to see my father and I glaring at each other with the exact same pairs of eyes, because I was the only one who could match him like that.

It was that glare I was using now. On an SM producer about a foot taller than me, who had every right and ability to throw me out of the company. I'm pretty sure it was the most stupid thing I've ever done. But at the time, i didn't care. If it meant that I was doing something for my Oppas, I would do anything. He just stared me down icily. If there was anyone there, no one said anything. I think everyone else was too busy dealing with their individual cases of shock. But I didn't see anyone or anything else. Finally, he spoke.

"Choi Minsung. That is your name, right?"

"Nae, Ahjusshi."

"You realize, trainee Minsung, that an act of disrespect like this one carries the most severe punishments. I can rescind your trainee status; get you removed from SM Entertainment and prevent you from ever entering again."

"Fine," I heard myself say, "You do that. It's not my problem; You'd be the one wasting money."

He raised his eyebrow. "How so?"

"If you kick me out now, SM will have wasted all of the money it spent on me. The payroll of Julia Mayfield to contact me in Wisconsin. The plane ticket from Wisconsin. My dorm in Korea. We're talking millions of Won. Kick me out now, and you lose any chance of me earning money to pay that back." I didn't know where the confidence was coming from, or the certainty. I'd always been afraid to talk back to anyone, because they could kick me out of the company. Yet here I was, absolutely certain that they wouldn't.

"We can get it out of you legally."

"No you can't. The pay for services was never in my contract."

"Are you sure it wasn't just in the Korean copy of the contract, since you could only read the English one?" He was trying to play on my illiteracy of Hangeul, but I wasn't going to fall for it.

"Both copies said the exact same things. I had someone help me read both of them." I'd have to thank James later, but that wouldn't cross my mind for a long time. "You payed for all of those things; you didn't have to. As far as the contract was concerned, you had every right to make me pay for all of those things myself. But you didn't. Why? Because it was easier and faster to have SM take care of it. So go ahead, punish me and get rid of me for refusing to become one of SM's perfect little robots. I can assure you, it's going to cost you a lot more than Zhou Mi's voice breaking in the middle of a performance for investors would."

My point made, I spun around to leave, only to find Zhou Mi looking down at me with an expression I couldn't identify. Behind him, I saw the faces of the SJM members standing just at the top of the steps. Henry, Sungmin, Eunhyuk, Donghae, Kyuhyun, Ryeowook, Siwon... all of them had seen everything.

I met Henry's eyes only for a second before I pushed past him and walked back down the steps. I knew if I lingered even a moment to consider what I had done, I would have to face them all. And I didn't have the courage to do that anymore.

I ran through the building, not thinking of where I was going, just escape, escape, escape. I ran down hallways, down stairs, bursting out of the building's doors, feeling the open air of Seoul hit my face. It wasn't clean, fresh air, like I had at home. It was rank city air in comparison. But anything was an improvement to being in there.

I wasn't thinking. My mind was empty. My heart was screaming. My eyes may have been closed, for all the good they were doing. I didn't know where I was going. Just away.

I found an empty side street and collapsed in a corner, finally letting the emotions stream through. I was the stupidest person in the world. I had ruined everything for myself. I had destroyed every hope I'd ever had to be a songwriter. I had showed the ugly, stubborn, vicious side of me to the people I cherished and idolized.

Zhou Mi wasn't worthless. I was.