It was the last project I participated in 2012. Furthermore, it’s already December and another project awaited me on New Year’s Eve. Girl’s Generation had been promoting so much lately, it’s wearing me off. 

            Damn, I need a sick leave for a week. This was by far the hardest concept to work with. And on top of that, this group has a very tight schedule. It’s tiring me out too much. Sometimes I wondered how idols could endure this kind of lifestyle. 

            “Hello…,” I greeted the managers tiredly as I entered the room to retrieve my makeup box. My ears perked at the mention of a familiar name. While grabbing my brushes and palettes, I listened to the managers’ conversation. Half of me was asleep while another half was awake. 

            “Have you seen Baekhyun?” 

            “He’s been inside the practice room since morning. Why, do you need something?” 

            When I finished packing my box, I left quickly. I didn’t want to eavesdrop on a conversation I was not supposed to hear. The thought of getting fired for being a nosy subordinate didn’t sound good to my ears. 

            I was about to leave after retrieving my makeup box when I heard footsteps behind me. “Mami-ssi!” I turned around to see Baekhyun catching his breath. “Are you going out for coffee?” he asked me in between short pants. Actually I was supposed to go home and get some rest but then I remembered. Before we went for a broadcast earlier, around nine in the morning, I saw Baekhyun entering the building. 

            And I also accidentally heard the managers talking about how he’s been inside the practice room for hours. And he locked himself inside. So I assumed he hasn’t eaten yet. “Oh, I’m going out for barbecue in the corner restaurant,” I said, pointing to a certain direction. 

            His eyes glimmered when he said, “Can I come?” I knew just as much. This kid hasn’t eaten yet. I nodded at him with a smile. My heart sank when hesitation was evident in his eyes. “Oh, I don’t like beef. I’ll just get beer…” What the hell was this kid talking about? Who doesn’t like beef? And you’ll drink beer with an empty stomach? I won’t allow that. 

            It may have been his stupid idol diet restricting him. So I asked him to break the rules sometimes but he just smiled at me. So it wasn’t his idol diet holding him back. “I’ll pay for it. So come along,” I told him, already walking. 

            “Really?” he asked, cheerfully, it echoed across the streets. We walked beside each other. He then grabbed my makeup box from me. “It’s the least I could do, right?” And he flashed me one of his charming smiles. We walked in silence together until we reached the nearest restaurant. The city was always awake at night so restaurants were always open 24/7. 

            We sat down and ordered two servings of beef. He snapped his chopsticks as soon as the beef was served. Sympathy was growing inside of me when I saw his face in bright light. He looked horrible. Like he hadn’t showered for days and he hadn’t been taking care of himself. I was worried about this kid. But there was nothing I could do. 

            He swallowed a large mouthful of beef and lettuce leaves. I felt extreme sadness seeping through my heart. He looked really pitiful eating. Has this kid been feeding himself? “Are you okay?” Finally, I asked. Although I knew he’d dodge my question, I had to ask him to see his reaction. 

            I couldn’t have been more wrong. “Where is this coming from? Of course, I’m fine!” he giddily said after swallowing his food. I knew just as much. He would avoid my question. While chewing the food inside my mouth, I was battling with myself. Should I insist and get involved? Or should I shut up and not know anything at all? 

            The thought of being personally involved with an idol didn’t appeal to me. Being involved with someone was troublesome. However, I remembered when he insisted for me to line his waterline during a previous recording. So I did just the same. I insisted. “No, you’re not fine at all,” I said, with a rather concerned tone.

            Under the bright light of the store, I saw tears gleaming under his eyes. “You’re right, I’m not fine at all,” he said with a forced smile, a smile too painful for me to see. I felt like crying. But I couldn’t. My eyes were turning watery but I couldn’t cry. I didn’t want to. 

            My voice was slightly shaking when I said, “Tell me about it, then.” 

            “I miss my family. I asked the manager if I could go visit them this Christmas but he said I can’t, just yet,” he narrated as the tears flowed down his cheeks. He continued, although we both knew it was hard for him. “I was so upset all I could do was lock myself for ours. Nobody would hear me out. It felt terrible.” He clutched his chopsticks tightly like he was releasing his anger.

            “You’re a big moron. Of course the company wouldn’t allow that. It’s not your vacation. And aren’t you preparing for something? They don’t like you anywhere you’re not supposed to be. It’s homesickness. It’s normal,” I simply told him what I see was the truth. But only when I saw his reaction did I realize that I said some really harsh words. 

            But then, his question caught me off-guard. “Have you experienced it, too? Homesickness, I mean.” And I started to wonder myself, have I ever felt sad being away from my family? Actually, I was more of happy that I left home. Noticing I was quiet for a while, he continued, “I think you don’t know how it feels like. But it hurts like hell.” 

            He was right. I didn’t how it felt like. My advice was harsh and unpleasant because I simply didn’t know how to answer. There was nothing I could relate to or understand. We weren’t in the same situation. So it was impossible for me to be someone he could talked to. “I’ve never felt it before. But the way you describe it, I guess it’s really painful.” 

            “You’ve never experienced it since you never left your home. You’re really lucky living with your parents,” he commented as I noticed the dried trail of his tears. I couldn’t shake off how wrong he was. I wanted to lash at his wrong assumptions. But I decided to keep my cool. 

            “Alright, I’ll ask the manager. I’ll see what I can do.”