As they grew up, those moments grew fewer in numbers. Not only was there less time for meaningless tears between all their schedules, they were starting to grow used to all these hardship they were being put through. Taemin grew stronger, grew colder, not knowing how much it was affecting the leader. The days went by, weeks went by, months passed them by, yet it was almost as if no one saw how much the leader was hitting a dead end in his life. More than just a dead end, it was like going down a path that only went straight, no excitements, no choices he could take. It just led straight forth and there was no end, no destination. It was tiring to keeping going forth to somewhere that was really nowhere for him. It was tiring to keep pretending to smile, to keep forcing himself to think that he was really smiling, only to return home to realize they were all faked. He wanted to stop. He wanted to stop and declare this as his destination. There wouldn’t be a destination until he determined where it was after all; and this was it. This is where he wants to be. He doesn’t want to take another step forth.

There were thousands of fans listening to him sing, but at the same time, no one was listening to him really sing. Constrained by set songs, set routines, set schedules, he sang, he danced, but not to his heart’s content. It was hard to breathe. He was suffocating while he was breathing. Singing was all he wanted. This career was all he aimed for. Now that he is here, what does he want? He doesn’t know. It wasn’t right, and he felt like no one understood. No, he knew no one understood – because even he didn’t understand the reason of his misery. He was just tired; tired of heading down this boring straight path that led to nowhere. He felt the obligation towards the team, he felt the obligation to the teacher who encouraged him, he felt the obligation to his parents, he felt the obligation to the company who worked so hard for them to succeed, and he felt obligated to the fans who gave their all to support the team. But the worst part was that he felt an obligation to everyone except to himself. Was this how it was meant to be? That he would live a life serving everyone, making everyone happy when he was not happy himself? How could he make others happy if he didn’t know how to make himself happy? How was he to lead a bunch of teenagers when he didn’t know the way either?

Taemin was supposed to be the one with the questions, not he. He is supposed to the one with the answers. If he doesn’t have the answers, who would be the one to guide the members through their tears? So he pushed on. He tried for all their sakes. For the team, for the fans, for the company, for his parents, for everyone but himself. He could rot away and it didn't matter as long as everyone else was happy. He could die from exhaustion and it wouldn't matter as long as everyone else was happy. He wanted to run away; but for everyone else's happiness, he stayed and drove himself further down misery lane. But it was soon evident that he was not needed around anymore. No one came to him for help. No one wanted to listen to him sing anymore. No one needed him around anymore. That was when he finally felt that he has reached his destination. He had accomplished everything that was required of him. Everyone was happy. Everyone is happy but himself. And everyone would be happy even if he was out of the picture. Now, he could end his journey. Now, he could leave and be happy himself. Now, he could venture the back lanes and alleys instead of going down the main street. Now, he could do what he wants. Now, he could sing to his heart’s content to anyone who would spare a moment to listen. Now, he could finally be free of obligations. Now, he could leave this straight path called life.

He can stop heading down this endless road; stop walking forth aimlessly. He can take a rest now; just lie down and rest.

"Hyung!" Jonghyun's face appeared before his eyes, alarmed and scared. The bottle was snatched away from his fingers but it didn't matter anymore. Jonghyun stares into the nearly empty bottle of what used to be filled with pills. "How many did you take, hyung?!" Jonghyun was shaking his shoulders violently. Jonghyun is crying. Why is Jonghyun crying?

"Hey, Jjong. What's up?" Jinki whispers casually, straining a weak smile - except, maybe this one might actually be genuine. His chapped lips cracked and his dark circles showed. But it doesn't matter anymore. It doesn't matter anymore.

"I'm calling the ambulance." Jonghyun fumbled with his phone, shouting over the dorms to get the other members in. It was then that Jinki realized that he never truly wanted to leave. If he had, he would have thought this out better, take the pills when the members had other schedules or something. This was just Jinki looking to see whether he was as invisible in the presence of his team as he really thought he was. This was Jinki seeking to be saved. This was Jinki's cry for help. This was Jinki telling s that something was wrong. The members were flooding in his room, and with his thoughts reveling themselves in his mind, he plasters on a smile again. They have passed the test. The team has passed the test Jinki didn't even realize he had set.

"I really love you guys," Jinki whispers and all the panicked murmurs and cries in the room simmered down. "I love all of you so much. Thank you so much," Jinki repeats. Someone is holding his hand. Someone is hugging his calves. Someone has his arm wrapped around his waist. They are crying, begging, "please, please, please."

Jinki wants to ask them, "please what?" even when he knows the answer to that. He wants to ask "why?" – why were they begging for him; why would they want him to stay on this straight path of his. But he was contented. He was contented just feeling their warm arms around him, just knowing he was something even if it were a tiny bit to someone else. He was contented that he had once made his dongseangs happy. Leaning into their support, Jinki drifts off into a comfortable silence.

And at this point I realized my initial plan of making this a fluff story is not gonna work. Like my brain literally went: You want fluff? How about killing your bias for a try at fluff? Brilliant idea, brain