park jimin knows how it feels to be overworked. 

he's fainted, 

been dehydrated,

had aching limbs all before, 

and that made him try harder. 

dance was expected to be good, he knew that more than anything, 

but with everyone explaining his skills weren't good enough, 

things became clear his efforts weren't appreciated. 

to make them appreciated, 

he suffered physically with things his frail body couldn't take, 

but dealed with anyways. 

the way he fell and got back up surprised him;

his motivation to do anything was very little, 

yet he managed with this. 

he wanted praise from people who were supposed to do that naturally anyways, 

and he would eventually earn it-

he hoped. 

everything physical didn't hurt as much as it did emotionally, 

so that's what made it easier to get to his feet again. 

jimin never knew the impact it could have on his body, 

but he was beyond caring when routines came together just right as he wanted them to. 

if anyone knew how hard it was to put together a simple dance, 

they wouldn't do it.

one person would and that one person wasn't expected of. 

he performed in front of everyone almost every assembly,

slowly starting to become happier and happier with the way his friends nodded to each other, 

hopefully saying lovely stuff.

it's a shame the blonde couldn't hear them;

because what they were actually talking about was how bad he was. 

little park jimin was gullible, 

taking every smile as a gift when it wasn't his, 

or inhaling a confirming nod of the head as appreciation when it hid the meaning of disappointment.

people were content of making the fragile boy overwork, 

push himself over the possible limits, 

since they expected more. 

any person with feelings would protest it's too much, 

but in this day of age, 

everyone seemed to have lost a heart. 

one day, 

jimin wouldn't be alone in the nurses office.