“Okay, so, when Yixing gives you the queue, you'll move across to left stage and start the performance for 'If I Had A Heart'. Got it?”

“Of course.”

“Jongin...at least look at me while you pretend to give a damn about what I'm saying.” Jongin's manager, Minseok, is standing with his hands on his hips as he goes over last minute stage direction. Jongin considers it entertainment rather than information because of how short Minseok actually is. Though two muscly arms are poking out of Minseok's very unprofessional sleeveless shirt, the fact that Minseok stands about shoulder height to Jongin and looks to be ten years younger than him is funny in any circumstance. Minseok is a 28 year old man with a mop of pastel pink hair (his only contribution to a mediocre sense of fashion) and an affinity for clothing that showed just how much he actually worked out (a useless hobby for someone with a nanny job).

It's not that Jongin didn't respect Minseok, he just wasn't interested in Minseok's limited expertise. Jongin's mother always told him that people who worked hard reaped great rewards. Minseok tirelessly practiced himself into a managerial position for a kid who was born able to do what he worked his whole life to try to accomplish.

Jongin had already reaped the rewards of his lifetime and several more with minimal effort; proving that his mother didn't know what the hell she was talking about.

A lifetime of being called a prodigy and inspiration had given Jongin quite a large ego, but that was fine by him; he had a rocking body to keep his ego from falling. Sure, you could say that fame is in the hands of the fans, but is it really? Jongin was born with a prophecy. The prophecy of being ing awesome.

Anyone who was anyone knew Jongin's name, and Jongin was better than everyone; so, he would know.

“Also, don't forget you have that luncheon tomorrow. We're trying to save your repu