Fanmeets. Autograph signings. Recording. Song composing. Dance rehearsal. Photo shoots. Interviews. It was never ending, and he knew he could never get a break. Not even when he was on a so-called vacation, because no matter where he went, there was paparazzi.

Hongki could definitely live without all of that. He hated being famous. The thing that he hated the most, actually, wasn’t being famous, it was the fact that if you were talented and pretty, you were instantly famous. There were plenty of other people who wanted to be famous, and they were talented, but of course, fate had chosen him to be the “lucky” one.

“Lee Hongki! Lee Hongki! Lee Hongki!” The fans outside the van were screaming and cheering, pounding their puny little fists on the side of the vehicle, running alongside the slow moving car. He wished they would just leave. He rolled his eyes, rolling down his window, and was instantly met with a crowd of hands grabbing at whatever they could reach.

“Hey,” He called, furrowing his brow slightly, his voice being drowned out by the screaming.

“Hey!” He tried again, this time getting their attention, but quickly losing it as they tried to grab at him again.

Then, with determination, he ordered the driver to stop the car. He did, and right after Hongki unbuckled himself and pulled a megaphone from the front seat; it was something his manager bought to calm the fans down, to get people’s attention, but now it was his turn to use it.

Turning it on, he stared at it for a moment, then pressed the button. A loud shriek came from the device, and with a newfound determination he opened the sunroof of the van and stood on the seat, yelling into the megaphone. “HEY!”

That got their attention.

The hoard of girls turned, going completely silent as they all stared up at the man they all worshipped. He stared at them, a glint in his eyes, and then he brought the megaphone back to his lips. “Can you all please move? I just want to go home.”

The thing about being famous, Hongki discovered, that at the mere sound of your voice, people went insane. And that, he experienced right then, all of the fans erupting into a screaming mass of girls. But then, something caught his attention. A man was making his way through the crowd,  parting the fans as if it were the red sea, and it seemed that as he made his way forward, a hush fell across the crowd.

“Let me in?” The man asked softly, pointing to the car. Hongki nodded, then slipped back into the car, shutting the sunroof and tossing the megaphone back into the passenger seat. He closed his window, opened the door, and then slid into the opposite seat, allowing the man to enter the car.

“Drive,” Hongki stated. The one good thing about being famous, he learned, was that people who depended on your talent listened to whatever you said. And so the driver began driving, pushing through the fans.

“Who are you?” Hongki turned in his seat, looking at the man who was in the van, the man he didn’t know at all but was so willing to allow him entrance. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, seeing how no one ever approached a famous person and simply asked to get in their car. Maybe it was the way he sounded as if he understood where Hongki was coming from, his voice being so gentle and smooth.

“Hyunwoo, Lee Hyunwoo,” The man said, flicking his bangs from his eyes. “You’re that Lee Hongki kid, right? The one who doesn’t like fame, but is stuck with it?”

Hongki just stared, his blonde hair falling over his eyes as he nodded slightly. “How did you know that?”

“I’m a fan. Well, sort of. You see, I can t4ell when people are hiding feelings they don’t want others to see. I did the same thing growing up, and I began to notice it in other people. I saw people hurting even though they had their fake smiles plastered to their faces, and you’re another one of those people. Hongki, sir, you seem to be hiding the fact that you hate everything about your life. I can see it. You hate it when people scream over you. I saw articles about it before, interviewers asking you what you thought about the limelight and you saying you hated it... But why do you?” Hyunwoo tilted his head slightly, watching Hongki closely as he thought for a minute.

Hongki sighed, pulling his knees u to his chin as he spoke. “You see, I don’t like the whole ‘I’m better than you’ thing that the world has going on. It’s a huge battle to get the spotlight shining on you, and sometimes, people just don’t want it. There are people who get famous, driven by that want, and then they realize ow much it and back out, slipping back into their old lives. But not me. My entire family’s famous, I’m known all around the world. And just because I have good looks and I can sing and plat a few instruments, it instantly puts my on a pedestal. I don’t want to be on that pedestal. I hate that pedestal.”

He paused, his eyes suddenly wet with unshed tears. “I’m sorry... I never usually cry.”

“It’s okay, you should let it out,” Hyunwoo said, watching as Hongki began to cry silently against his knees. “You know, it isn’t a bad thing to hate that kind of stuff. What’s important is that you live by your rules. Tell people you don’t like it. Maybe, even, you could just retire early. Tell people it’s putting too much pressure on your health, which I’m sure it actually is. You’ve got to be careful, Hongki, not to fall into the media’s grip.”

“What’re you saying, Hyunwoo-ssi?” Hongki asked, looking up and wiping the tears from his cheeks.

“I’m saying... Don’t conform to what everyone else wants. Be who you really are, and if the world doesn’t accept it, then screw them. You are your own person,” Hyunwoo said with a wide smile, nodding firmly. Then he turned and faced the driver, raising a finger. “I’ll get out here, thank you sir.”

The van stopped and Hyunwoo got out, now free of the fans that were previously surrounding the car. But before he could walk away successfully, Hongki rolled down his window and called out to him.

“Hyunwoo-ssi, don’t forget what you said. It’s okay to cry,” And then the window was shut, the van pulled away, and the boy was gone. But the words were stuck in his head, repeating over and over as he walked to his house. It’s okay to cry. Though he said it all the time, Hyunwoo hardly even believed it himself. Was it really okay to cry?

⎛ end ⎠