They land in Beijing a few hours later, and if possible, Changmin’s mood is even worse than before. He has started talking, yes, but it really is mostly snapping and giving out sarcastic responses to anyone headed his way. He has made a child cry for standing in his way and has even managed to effectively scare the child’s angry parents into silence.

It is in moments like these that Yunho notices all the more that Changmin is but a child. Although Changmin tries hard to be the adult that he has to be, he knows that Changmin is still a kid; trapped in a world where he has had to grow up far too quickly to mature normally. Changmin’s moods are tantamount to a child’s tantrum at having his naptime taken away from him and sometimes the best way to deal with this is by treating him like a child as well.

Changmin is standing alone outside the checkpoint, refusing to take off his shades even then. It is Yunho’s turn to have his passport stamped and through the exit he can already spot the legion of fans and reporters waiting outside for them. He knows their presence will only further aggrevate a very volatile Changmin and he can only manage a sigh.

Changmin, physically, is an adult after all. Yunho can only do so much to help him.

He passes through checkpoint, knowing Changmin is only waiting for him and not anyone else, and breezes past him. He hears the quiet stamping of heavy boots as Changmin hurries to keep up with him, and he unthinkingly extends his hand to hold on to Changmin’s, pulling him along.

Yunho squeezes his hand, and Changmin squeezes back, before the two of them attempt their way through the massive crowd. It is a wild mix of screaming, jostling and camera flashes as everyone tries to take a glimpse of them, at the two stars of Korea and arguably Asia, who are currently hand in hand. Changmin’s face is practically hidden; he has his turtle neck rolled up to his nose, his shades still on and his hoodie up, while Yunho is all exposed emotion.

One can easily read the eyes and face of his, his natural protectiveness making way as he pushes past the crowd, slipping between people like a snake slipping through weeds. He pulls Changmin along, who is not fairing so well at avoiding the colliding of bodies.

Yunho loses him for a moment, his hand somehow letting go of Changmin’s, and the younger is left alone to face the army of fans and reporters. Someone knocks the shade out of his eyes, one can’t really tell whether it was accidental or not, and Changmin’s eyes are suddenly exposed to the camera.

Changmin flinches at the sudden influx of camera flashes, and feels his anger ignite.

He is tired. He just wants to be back home, sleeping, not preparing for a concert in front of several thousand people he does not know. He’d rather be home. He *wants* to be back home and Changmin falls into a moment of desolation as he realises he is stuck in the sea of people.

Changmin’s hands are curled into fists beneath his long sleeves and the emotion in his eyes is enough to make several people take a step back. He wants to scream. He *very* nearly screams, when a hand reaches out from the crowd to grab him, pulling him forward.

He loses it then, screaming his head off.

Changmin is known for his pitch, as well as volume of his screams and the sheer sounds breaks through the crowd, despite it being muffled by the thick turtle neck covering his mouth. The scream is overshadowed however, by the sheer intensity of voices surrounding him, all of them by screaming fan girls that seem to want to contest his screams and reporters that are shooting questions and camera flashes that blind and confuse him. He is sure his own scream will be assumed to be from an overzealous fangirl, and the fact that his mouth is being covered means that no one knows when it is open or closed.

So to hell with it, Changmin continues screaming.

How is it that he is the focus of attention and no one notices the hand that is pulling him forward?

Changmin is thrown into a van and he very nearly freaks and jumps right out, when Yunho literally pops out of nowhere (he will blame it on the darkness inside the vehicle), grabs him by wrapping an arm around his shoulder and uses his other arm to reach out and slam the door behind Changmin closed.

“Go, go!” Yunho yells at the driver, who floors it.

The two of them lurch forward from the speed the van is going at, Yunho saving them by bracing against the handhold above the window. He lets go of his protective one-armed hug around Changmin and the younger has to collect all his pointless pride to not jump right back into his arms and curl around his side.

“Changmin, are you okay?”

He is thankful for the darkness of the van, because he’d be dead of shame if Yunho saw the tears collecting in his eyes.

He’d come back for him.

Well, of course he’d come back for him, argues his narcisstic mind, they’re here for a concert. It’d be weird for Yunho to perform on his own when 99.95% of their performances are together as a duo.

The single thought derails Changmin’s mind into sheer pessimism, pushing Yunho away such so that the elder hits his head on the window behind him.

“Fine,” he seethes.

His voice sounds stuffy, and it breaks near the very edges of the word. Barely noticeable really, but Yunho does notice. He notices.

Changmin’s arms are once again crossed over his chest and he leans against the opposite window, looking out once more. Yunho very nearly reaches out. He wants to hug the baby, to comfort him, to ask him what’s wrong so he can make it better.

He’d drop the world for him, didn’t he know?

But once again, he reminds himself that Changmin was an adult. He couldn’t constantly keep babying him and he was sure Changmin didn’t want him constantly being so protective over him anyway.

So once again, Yunho let it be.

They reach the concert avenue and are immediately rushed backstage where they are slathered on with make-up, microphones fixed to their bodies and have their outfits sewn onto them. It is a tiring world-wind of fifteen minute activity as everyone rushes to prepare for the concert scheduled to start in half an hour.

Exactly twenty-three minutes later, the duo is ready. They are crouched right below the stage, sitting on a platform that will rise onstage to the audience. The space around them is painfully cramped, stuffed with way too many people. Yunho feels the tension radiating off Changmin and knows the younger one is fighting the urge to physically hit the stylist who seems to have a never ending string of comments for Changmin’s dull skin.

Changmin is making up the excuse that he forgot to take his make-up off before he went to sleep the night before but really though, Changmin’s lack of sleep the past month has done horrible things to his youthful skin and his eyebags are more pronounced than ever.

Yunho thinks to heck with it and holds Changmin’s hand in his, gripping it tightly. He tries to lend his strength to the younger, who makes no move to squeeze back. Changmin only stares at the director who has somehow managed to crawl into the already compact space, still shouting orders while the stylists are still fluttering around them, putting layer upon layer of make-up.

The countdown for the performance finally begins and everyone backs away from the duo. Yunho can hear the crowd counting down.

‘Ten!’

“Changmin?”

‘Nine!’

“Please talk to me. Are you seriously okay?”

‘Eight!’

...

‘Seven!’

...

‘Six!’

“Changmin.”

‘Five!’

“I’m fine.” Changmin’s voice is painfully cold as he looks to the front, but Yunho pushes forward.

‘Four!’

“No, you’re not. Something’s up.”

‘Three!’

“Please, won’t you talk to me?”

‘Two!’

“I said I’m fine.”

‘One!’ The coldness in Changmin’s tone throws Yunho completely off, but he can say no more, as his microphone has been and the platform has been activated, violently throwing them onstage to a screaming crowd of thirteen thousand fans.

They perform three songs, before they are backstage once more for a change of outfits.

Yunho has managed to steal glimpses of Changmin both on and off stage, and although his face still remained cold and stoic, his performance was expectedly flawless, pulling each and every move and high note perfectly. Yunho has almost lost his worry for the younger.

Almost.

It is their third time backstage when he finally notices it.

Changmin is slowing down.

His breathlessness is getting into his singing, his lethargy is putting him a beat off everyone else and his interaction with the crowd is near nada.

Yunho knows better than to criticize, because Changmin is still his Maknae. He can still get away with it.

Changmin stands amidst a crowd of stylist doing last minute changes to his hair. His sweat has been wiped away and make-up reapplied, and he almost looks flawless. But he is panting very heavily and Yunho catches his hands shake from complete lethargy.

Changmin’s moody anger is gone now. He is too tired to even express emotion. And so he stands completely still, eyes closed, breath heavy.

“Changmin?” Yunho tries to get to him once again. Because it is Changmin, a person has to work thrice as hard to get through to him. And Yunho is not anything if not persistent.

Finally, after nearly two days, Changmin looks up at him, straight into the eye.

And Yunho is thrown.

Changmin, his poor baby Changmin, has aged so quickly in a span of a day he looks forty. Or even older.

His eyes are painfully haunting and beneath them lay his eyebags, an obvious sign that he was nearly screaming for some sleep. Changmin was tired.

Yunho has finally noticed. The lifestyle, the schedule, the constant work was finally getting to the young one and he now looks like a corpse. Yunho wants to say something, but the words are all caught in his throat. They are heavy and Yunho feels his eyes tearing.

Changmin looks back at him, still attempting to be proud and mighty, though they look more desolate than nought.

“Changmin...” The word comes out in a painful whisper, as Yunho looks at his Maknae properly for the first time in nearly two days. He doesn’t like what he sees. It looks like all essence of life had been away from him, leaving but a shell. The healthy youngster full of youthful vigour was no more, left behind was but a barely alive adult trying his best to stand on his own two feet.

Why hadn’t he noticed this?

The tone of Yunho’s voice gets to him for some reason, and Changmin looks away. He feels like a child once more, a child who’d had a bad day, only to have his father greet him at the door with his arms out for a hug and a large smile waiting for him. He wants so badly to run into his arms that Changmin feels his knees shake.

Yunho was that figure. He was the father figure, the person he’d always run to for comfort and solace. Changmin had always been denying this because he’d seen himself as an independent adult, who didn’t need anyone to depend on. He was twenty four now. He didn’t need anyone to run to.

He could stand on his own two feet.

The countdown to get back onstage was beginning again, and everyone moves back, till it was only Yunho and Changmin standing backstage, waiting for the curtain to rise to signify the final stage.

‘Five.’ The automatic counter was starting.

Changmin wobbles, his vision suddenly blurring.

“Changmin?”

‘Four.’

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

‘Three.’

Changmin keeps quiet, ignoring him.

‘Two.’

He falls to the floor this time, landing painfully on his hip.

“Changmin!”

‘One.’

Changmin pushs himself up just as the curtain rises, breaking out into song. His hip throbs but he ignores it. His fans couldn’t see how weak he was.