His breaths came in short, ragged intervals. His vision was solely focused on the never-ending road ahead of him; the grey tar like a narrow tunnel growing wider and wider into seamless eternity as he continued above the speed limit. His foot was pressed down on the accelerator with visible force; his phone blaring a string of incoherent blabbering on loud speaker that; thanks to his adrenalin; he was barely conscious of until the incoming words drove into his ears like needles.

‘For God’s sake, Minseok, I’m hanging up!’ he shouted for the umpteenth time.

‘You are seriously out of your freaking mind Lu, you know that?’

His friend managed to articulate again with clarity; the exasperated tone he used giving the younger man the image of him running a hand through his copper hair tiredly.

‘You know, the last time you didn’t even get anywhere near that last building down the street. Hell, for all I know you’re probably still parked outside. I swear you’re gonna get hanged for this kiddy stunt, darn it.’

‘Wow, hand me a trophy for being the only one with guts,’ Luhan snorted bitterly; his eyes focused intently on the road ahead that expanded and expanded endlessly as he progressed.

‘You can’t tell me I’m not the only one willing to get on the news in a high speed car chase to save myself from death by exhaustion. I can’t do this anymore, Minseok. I gave it another chance like you said, but I just… can’t anymore.’

The older boy groaned loudly; the sound a fitting audio for him pulling on his hair at this point. He had an awful habit – Luhan noted – of often plunking himself into the nearest chair, and spreading his knees like a detective whenever faced with tiresome tasks, however, it was an action he left off-camera. Something only the members knew about him.

‘… Does this have anything to do with M?’

Luhan gulped dryly at the mention of the name. Even though he was focused dead ahead of him at the oncoming road that now carried with it a heavy white wind of sleet, his mind had taken a lurch into the paranoia of the subject.

And it didn’t take Minseok long to realise just what effects the mention of the letter had on the younger boy. His paranoia was something the members picked up quickly – their leader, Kris, being the first – however, neither of them dwelled on the issue for long because it was a common hand they each held with stardom. Being a world-renown star was something that apart from the obvious positives, came a dreary blow to the gut with exhaustion and incredible vigilance. In fact, every one of the members of Exo were so used to playacting thanks to the cameras practically documenting their every move, every conversation, and every damned breath.

Minseok imagined Luhan was the best at what they did because he seemingly enjoyed the limelight… or at least that was until M happened. It was a truly bizarre thing the eldest found silly, and yet to Luhan, it was a worrisome matter. That matter being a fan by the supposed name of M, who attended every show in the country, snagged every front seat, appeared at every fan meeting, and had been the eyes watching him at every second of every day, that is.

‘Did you take that number from Baek? Because if you did, now’s the perfect time to put it to use.’

The boy on the other end groaned; a droning static in the background that cut into his ear painfully for a brief moment until he spoke again.

‘I’m not a nutcase, dude. I know what I’m feeling, and… and this isn’t only about that. This is about what I want too. I’m done with Exo. I just—for crying out loud, I need a break. And you guys do too.’

‘But you don’t see any of us running away,’ Minseok scoffed. ‘Anyway, those murders I was telling you about—there was a documentary on it last night on CI, and…’

‘Hm? Who is that, hyung?’

‘Oh, Yixing,’ he acknowledged; the phone tilting to the back of his head as he craned his neck to take in the young Chinese approaching him with a bag of crisps in his hands.

‘It’s Luhan. He’s having a BF.’

Lay gasped dramatically; potato crumbs decorating his open mouth. ‘A BF…?’

Minseok rolled his eyes. ‘A bi—’

Luhan hung up almost immediately at the conversation spiraling out of control with the click of his tongue. The last thing he needed was to be distracted by unnecessary conversation… yet it was also the one thing that kept him hanging on by a thread. His mind was in turmoil. His nerves were shot. He couldn’t even remember a time when he was in the least stable with how restless his schedule was, how restless production was, how restless his entire bloody life was.

‘Shut up,’ he unconsciously breathed out to the incessant buzzing in his mind. ‘I’m tired. Shut up.’

The product of his paranoia and restlessness was something that physically manifested: the buzzing. Perhaps it was the only thing he hadn’t disclosed with the other members because he at first dismissed it as something nonexistent. Maybe even something he could fix… but it only worsened.

Is she there? The buzzing. Is she watching? The buzzing. I don’t want to go on stage. The buzzing. She’s there. The damn buzzing.

Luhan squeezed his eyes shut. ‘Shut up, shut up, shut up…!’

The car suddenly swerved and instinctively, Luhan’s mind went into panic. He pulled the steering wheel in the opposite direction; the car struggling to correct itself, and issuing a string of hysteric curses at the vehicle, he managed to straighten back out onto the road within a matter of minute-long seconds. He breathed out a sigh of relief. The buzzing faded; perhaps thanks to the startling interruption.

Luhan’s hands trembled on the wheel, yet he couldn’t stop driving no matter what. It was a close encounter in the building blizzard. A reminder that he ought to have been rehearsing for one of Exo’s promotional events within the next week. Yet here he was escaping the one thing he was known for, loved for, adored and treasured for, because he was simply sick of it. Idol? The title irked him to the core.

He was no idol. He was a man. A human being; something made of flesh and blood, and most importantly, a soul. He was nothing close to an idol. He was a living, breathing person… although it seemed to him as if he were the only one who believed this. Because the people around him were blinded by what they liked to call the magnificence he exuded. He often took the otherwise flattering compliment with a smile and words of gratitude, but deep down, he viewed his admirers as nothing short of animals.

I’m not magnificent. I’m not your idol. I’m not a wonderful person—

Stop smiling at me.

He glanced in his side mirror warily only to be greeted by a thick sheet of white wind that tailed a few feet behind the car. Like a breathing cloud of air, it stuck to him ev