That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no, I've said too much
I haven't said enough

Losing My Religion - R.E.M.

Breathing wasn’t needed. In his line of work, it was bam, bam, bam-never a day off just to be, or an extra couple of hours sleep. It sometimes felt like SM were deliberately trying to kill him, or something stupid, but then he always remembered that was a silly thought. He made them a fair amount of money, and his father would probably sue them if they worked his son to death. And his dad was fairly influential. It could work.

Sometimes he was so morbid.

But then, when he couldn’t sleep and had only hours until morning, when he’d be working again, there wasn’t much else to think about. He didn’t have a girlfriend at the moment. It probably wasn’t a good idea, because not only did he not have time, but she’d probably be hounded by fan girls, whoever the poor soul ended up being. Look at what had happened with a simple tweet of Stella’s bedsheets, which happened to be the same as his. If he had been going out with her again, he would have been so ashamed he couldn’t protect his girlfriend from his own fans.

As it was, he felt guilty enough for the pain it had caused her to have those sorts of messages. It was ridiculous. He wasn’t really their property-he was himself, Choi Siwon, an entertainer. They had the smile and the goofy antics, but they didn’t really have him. Which was why it was so odd to go on forums and see them talking about him and the rest of the guys as if they knew him personally. They’d even argue about him, and he would sit there, sleepless and exhausted, marvelling at the world he’d brought himself into.

Should he have listened when his father banned him from auditioning for SM? But he had been young and defiant, lost in his privileged life. He wanted out, and acting had always been appealing. He hadn’t quite expected to be put in such a large boyband and get quite so popular, but he’d never been one of the favourites, so it was…okay. He was just Siwon, the muscly one, the religious one.  The others might be more popular, more talented, but he was Mr Perfect.

He didn’t feel perfect. He felt tired and worn out, and as if nothing he did was good enough anymore. He was tired of lying to his mother when she called and asked if he ate and slept enough because he was looking a little skinny. He wanted to break down and tell her that no, no he wasn’t sleeping and he never got chance to eat much. But she’d only cry and tell him to stop worrying her, and that was no help at all.

Maybe when filming stopped, he’d feel better. But he already felt bad for leaving his bandmates to do all the promoting themselves. Not that he’d had a huge part in the song. He might be the visual, but he certainly wasn’t the best dancer and he could sing, but it wasn’t like he was Kyuhyun or Ryeowook.

He was mediocre, at best, and if he was honest, the acting jobs he had were more to do with his idol status than his actual acting ability. That stung his pride, but he it up, because at least it was a job. The hours might be slowly killing him, but you never got anywhere without hard work, and if he stopped now, his father would be the first to tell him that he’d been right, and that being an idol would get him nowhere.

It had gotten him places, though. He had fans all around the world, and that counted for something. It might not be missionary work or something ‘worthwhile’, but it was still better than being nothing.

It all made him question God. That small part of him that had always questioned his blind faith had been speaking up lately, and he didn’t like it. Being unsure was unnerving, and it wasn’t something he’d ever truly experienced.

He’d always known God had his best interests in mind…right?

But lately, when he was tired and alone and desperate for some kind of reassurance that it was all okay, God didn’t seem like the benevolent man-in-the-sky of his childhood. He seemed absent and uncaring. And sometimes, very, very late at night, he considered the idea that God didn’t exist, and that was so very frightening, he had to press his face into the pillow for a moment to force the thoughts away. He was not Heechul; he did not take comfort in being an individual who didn’t need the idea of a God constantly watching over him.

God had been too huge a part of his life for him to doubt Him now, yes?

He didn’t know anymore.