Geng is not entirely sure how he managed to be appointed the leader of Super Junior-M.

He assumes it’s because of the language thing; but if that’s what they were going by, then maybe Henry would be a better choice. His mutation means that his Korean is much more natural than Geng’s. Although, to be fair, his vocabulary is… well, let’s just stick with a little limited. Also he’s younger than literally everybody else in the band so that would be weird too. Okay, so Henry would be a bad choice. And Zhou Mi hasn’t got the same level of Korean. And none of the Korean members speak enough Chinese.

So that leaves Geng. He’s fluent enough in Korean now, and of course he speaks Chinese. And maybe he’s pretty suave sometimes too, and he thinks he’s pretty good looking, so that’s also a plus. So what, he turns into a pineapple sometimes when he’s stressed. It happens. It’s totally not super weird at all, right?

He’s totally cut out to be the leader of this group. Best man for the job. No doubt about it.

Geng sighs, looking at his face one last time in the dressing room mirror. He’s just gonna keep telling himself that until it comes true.

“Super Junior-M, you’re on in five minutes!” a voice calls, and Geng sighs again, and turns to his band mates to make sure everybody’s ready. They all seem to be, so Geng claims that small victory.

“Let’s go,” he tells them all, and they line up obediently at the door. A stagehand gives them a countdown, and then they’re walking onto the stage to the screaming of fangirls.

---

That could’ve gone worse Geng supposes as he collapses back onto his bed at the hotel. Nobody irreparably broke anything. He didn’t pineapple. They didn’t start any international incidents.

So what if Donghae accidentally turned his mike into a carrot – thank God they also made Kyuhyun a part of this group. So what if Zhou Mi changed his eyebrows so many times it made the host dizzy and he nearly passed out. Who cares if Siwon insisted that he had to change seats seven different times because the Angels told him to do it? And it totally was a non-issue that Henry’s Chinese was so flawless but so childish that the audience mostly just cooed or laughed every time he opened his mouth. And that said laughter made Henry throw a temper tantrum that would put a toddler to shame. No biggie right? These things happen.

Geng groans into his pillow, clenching his hands to tight that he’s pretty sure the nice red crescents his fingernails are pushing into his palms will take a couple of hours to fade.

There’s a tentative knock on the door. Geng steels himself.

“Come in,” he says into his pillow, refusing to look up. There’s the soft creak of the door opening, then shuffling footsteps in the entryway. Fierce whispering ensues from the doorway. Geng can’t be bothered to look to see what all the fuss is about. He decides to wait it out, breathing evenly, school his face into what he hopes is a patient expression in preparation. The whispering doesn’t stop though, and nobody comes in so he clears his throat pointedly. Everything goes dead-silent.

Somebody hisses, “go!” and then somebody else stumbles into the room. Several sets of footsteps follow. Wait, several sets? Geng turns his head a little, to see the entire rest of the band assembled in his doorway.

Oh.

He pushes himself up quickly, pushing his hair back out of his face.

Nobody says anything. They’re all looking very guiltily at the floor, avoiding his gaze. Geng is feeling very confused right now.

Finally, he gets tired of the silence.

“What’s up, guys?” he asks them. Zhou Mi’s eyes dart up to lock with his for a second, before he looks back down at the floor. “Guys?”

There’s more nudging, and then suddenly, Henry is forward from the group. Everybody takes a step back, leaving him standing by himself in the middle of the room. He turns around to glare furiously at the rest of them, before reluctantly turning back around to face Geng at their furious gesturing.

Geng raises an eyebrow at him. Henry shrinks under his gaze. He takes a deep breath.

“Geng-hyung, we’re really really sorry about today,” Henry half-mumbles, sounding extremely sorry for himself. “We were bad and we won’t do it again.” Geng glances at the rest of the sorry mob and they nod dejectedly.

“You came to apologise?” Geng clarifies. They all nod again. “Oh. Okay. Uh… That’s okay?”

Donghae looks up hopefully from under his bangs.

“I’m sorry I turned my mic into a carrot,” he says earnestly. He nudges Kyuhyun.

“I’m sorry I refused to turn it back for five minutes because it was hysterical,” Kyuhyun mumbles. He looks up at Geng for a second, an evil grin on his face, “It was hilarious though. Did you see Donghae’s face?” Geng glares at him, and Donghae elbows him in the side, and he falls silent, rubbing his ribs sulkily.

“I’m sorry I nearly made the host pass out,” Zhou Mi says.

“I’m sorry I didn’t do anything to make anybody mad or upset,” Ryeowook sniffles. Geng has no idea why he’s apologising but he guesses it’s the principle of the thing.

“I’m sorry the Angels demand so much of me,” Siwon says, his hand clutching at his shirt over his heart. “My mutation is a struggle for me. It’s not easy hearing the voices of the divine.” Zhou Mi and Kyuhyun shoot him doubtful looks but say nothing.

“And I’m sorry I was a bad boy, and made Geng-hyung mad,” Henry finishes, lower lip wobbling.

Geng surveys his pitiful looking band mates. He tries to summon any kind of rage or anger for them, but he finds he just can’t. He sighs in exasperation, looking at them all fondly.

“You’re all forgiven,” he tells them, and is rewarded with seven delighted beams. Donghae and Henry launch themselves at him with happy yells, and knock him back onto the bed. He’s soon being squashed by seven bodies, all wriggling around on top of him happily. Somebody’s elbow smacks into his head and he feels funny for a second before a familiar tingle starts to rumble through him.

“!”

He disappears in a poof of yellow smoke. His band mates roll off of him quickly. They look down at the ripe pineapple sitting where Geng was seconds before. Henry pouts.

“Oops?”