Everyone thinks that I have it all
but it’s so empty living behind these castle walls
these castle walls
if I should tumble if I should fall
would any one hear me screaming behind these castle walls
there’s no-one here at all, behind these castle walls

-T.I ft. Christina Aguilera (Castle Walls)

Dressed in a pair of grey skinnies and a sleeveless white shirt with the words "Talk Louder and Louder and Louder" printed on the front in bold black coupled with a high-cut shoe, the diva looked like he just came out from a glossy magazine cover. Both hands had accessories of all sorts, watch, bands, bracelets--you name it. His straight black hair with streaks of red coming down further showed off his pale skin which looked flawless under the sun's rays.

Those past few weeks which had SHINee on the front covers of almost every single magazine in Korea were hell. For any celebrity, it would be an honor. But they were there for the wrong reasons. Speculations of disbandment. Rumors that Onew would leave the group. It was everything but good news. Because of this, it almost felt like Key had aged another ten years within the short span of time. But it didn't matter. All it took to cover those aging signs on his face was with even more slabs of foundation, thicker eyeliner and the list just goes on and on. Truth be told, he had become so reliant on make-up, he felt without it. Without cosmetics, he felt a small part of him being taken away, his mask being lifted from his face and he felt bare and ugly. Self-conscious.

In fact, he even went for botox and all those treatments the company suggested he undergo to make him look younger and more vibrant. It almost seemed like a sick obsession trying to keep himself from graying into nothingness. Once he reached thirty, he would be taken over by the newer, hotter acts. He would be old and unwanted. The company would leave him to rot and wither away slowly and painfully. His name would vanish in time to come. He had gone to bed every single night the past two years with this worry which ate at his mind, gnawing at his every senses and sometimes even creeping into his dreams, waking him up in the wee hours drenched in cold sweat.

Aging might seem to be a beautiful process to some people. It was part of life. It was part of God's creation. But to him, it was something which would cause his career to go downhill. It was something which would take over his body, making him weak and feeble, making him absolutely revolting to look at. That thought always never failed to make his stomach turn.

SHINee was a contemporary band. It meant so much. It meant they were stylish, up-to-date. It meant they were fresh and different from the norm. They were still pretty much setting the trends all thanks to Ha Sang Baek's clever designs that always left Key in admiration for the talented designer, but the whole bright colors concept seemed to have toned down by alot. As for fresh... Key had doubts. They were not fresh anymore, weren't they? Taemin, the youngest, was now already a grown man of 19 years. No longer "jail-bait" as how noona fans used to put it.

He swallowed as he ruffled his own hair. Not that he had much hair left anyway since his hair had been drowned with countless of harmful chemicals since debut days. It made him wonder if such things came free seeing how the stylists pretty much emptied the whole bottle on just one member alone.

Lost in his own thoughts for quite abit, he hadn't realized he had been attracting attention from the people nearby. Scratch that. It was the females nearby. They had their phones out, frantically snapping away as some squealed in delight and were giggling like little girls who had never seen candy in their entire life. Stupid.

Today felt like a good day and Key had decided to leave the dorm and get outside for some fresh air. It had been a while since he had last walked on the streets. He still relished those days when he was still a trainee and no one gived a damn at all when he was walking on this very same street. Those were the days he wished he were who he was now and have people noticing him and giving him second glances when he walked past them.

But at this moment, even though he enjoyed being in the limelight, he wished he were Kim Kibum. An ordinary guy hanging out with his buddies and having barbecued meat with bottles of soju to go with, talking about girls and cars instead of singing love songs when he had never experienced genuine love at all. Who was he to sing about love when he was forbidden to love someone?

Ironic, wasn't it?

Who had said the path of being an idol was easy? But they hadn't told him it was this hard either.

"This is your home from now on." Lee Soo Man had told him. His face was expressionless. Home. It was his home.

After years of training, he was going to be someone. Just by that fact alone, it was enough for him to ignore everything else except him being a part of SM Town.

A part of the SM family.

--

"What do you think about those prejudices?"

"If you're not in the position of being an idol you really wouldn't know what it's like. What's for sure is that it's very different from what people think."

Came his reply from an interview yesterday. People see their impressive performances on stage, but did they ever see the massive amounts of hard work they had to put in, trying to perfect their dancing and vocals?

People see their slim, toned bodies, but did they ever see how they had to adhere to a strict diet and were not allowed to eat what they wanted to?

People see their beautiful clothes, shoes and accessories, but did they ever see how all of this would be deducted from their pay, including stylists, food and housing, salon visits and manager fees?

And it doesn't just stop there.

The waves of the ocean overlapped endlessly and tirelessly, as if never bored of this never-ending pattern. They never have to expect, never have to feel the pain he felt. They were so careless. They just carried on with their useless life so chronically, so boring, dull, and yet free of burdens and troubles. They could take down someone without intentions, swallow them up without any guilt, because it was simply how they went.

He, too, wanted to be like that, where he didn't have to expect things, where he could dance freely and not be afraid of faults or carelessness. He wanted to laugh from the will of his heart and smile whenever he was enlightened and amused. He wanted to be exuberant for once, to be beautiful and unrestricted from the limits of reality.

There were times when he felt like he had led so many lives at once and it was tiring him out. He needed sleep. Maybe he could sleep and not wake up. Escape from this nightmare he wished would go away the moment he opened his eyes every morning.

Seven o'clock.

The night felt cold.

Somehow, he had this premonition but could not quite put his finger to it.

It was a feeling of dread. A feeling that someone was watching him. His every movement.

A shiver went down his spine.

Maybe he was thinking too much.

Maybe the stillness and quietness of the night made his thoughts run wild.

"Onew is it?"

A voice!

The sweetness of the voice. The innocence which dripped with it.

It wasn't anyone he knew.

"Who are you-" Onew's sentence did not have completeness as he was suddenly pushed into the gushing, violent waves before he had time to react.

The coldness slapped his face like whips, salty water splashing into his mouth, clumped up his nose, and choked his need to breathe.

Onew coughed and spluttered, so helplessly and so pathetically. "What-" Cough. "Wha-"

The unsentimental voice snickered coldly.

Onew looked up, his lungs gasping for air.

A girl.

A girl he hadn't seen before.

Her hair was an unkempt, dishevelled disarray. Clothes were wrinkly and saggy like the shell of a walnut. Her face looking so forlorn and vindictive.

Onew gasped, his heart palpitating like a bongo drum. "Who are you? What do you want?"

She laughed sardonically. "You don't have to know."

The girl ran up to Onew and grabbed a handful of his hair, jerking his head scandalously, immediately sending Onew's heart leaping fretfully with a striking gasp.

"Do you know how much I love SHINee? What you have said the other time almost destroyed what SHINee has built up all these years!" She screeched, sending Onew's head into the water and keeping it there, letting him tasting the blandness, and sourness and foulness of the ocean water, and then jerked his back up. "How's the taste? That's the taste I felt in my heart the moment I heard SHINee would end up like another DBSK! Saltiness, ing saltiness! It kills don't you know? Almost the last bit of hope I had in me!"

The girl pushed Onew's head back in again, squishing and banging his head against the wet, nasty sand.

Onew tried to thrash against the strength the girl yielded, trying to break away the force of the crazy tramp but he was too much in shock.

"Geeetttt tthhheeeee ffffuucccckkkkk ooooopphhffff mmeeee," Onew gurgled against the strong currents, yet he ended up swallowing a surge of nasty water.

"Look at your stupid, stupid, stupid self! So shameful! Look how helpless and pathetic you are!" She sniggered in bitter delight.

Onew couldn't breath. He felt as if a mass of weight had oppressed his chest and derived him of the ability to gasp for air. The water stung his eyes, and the will to cry came rushing to his soul. The water scratched his skin raw and rash.

When Onew thought he almost died, the crazy pulled his head out back to the cruel reality.

"I won't let you die so easily, er." She spat into Onew's face.

Onew's head spun, dizziness drowsed his consciousness.

With a hold of Onew's blue shirt, the girl threw him against the scratchy sand. She was unbelievably strong for a girl. Onew lay there, lifeless and weak like a beaten fish, no longer able to wriggle and jump in desperate need of air.

He cried for s.

Stop. Help. Somebody help.

Onew couldn't spit out the words.

He couldn't die like this.

Run. He had to run. He had to get away from this deranged .

Using whatever strength he had, Onew got up and crawled across the grazing sand that clawed his skin. He dragged his body.

"Where do you think you're going?" The girl asked, mockingly.

Onew had no energy left in him to answer her stupid question. He wanted to tell her anywhere but here. He wanted to slap her a million times and tell her to wake up. He wished for this to be a movie. A movie the director could simply say "cut!" and a few coordi noonas would rush over to wipe the fake blood and dripping water from his face.

"You think I don't know what's going on? You just want more attention from the media!" She sneered.

And there it was. She was holding a sharp, shining blade of a knife.

Oh my god.

No.

Onew panicked.

He needed to get out of here badly.

She was planning to kill him.

He needed to run.

He didn't know what was happening but his legs willed himself to get up. Onew took one big step and ran.

The girl chased him like an evil demon, a hungry werewolf, the butcher knife gripped tightly in her hands.

Horror stricken, Onew's heart beat with panic, jumping, leaping, lurching, hopping. His heart pounded so incredibly fast he thought it was going to pump out of his ribcage and away from him.

The sands were massive weight, pulling and dragging him backwards, against his weak force to propel forward. He stepped on the shoelaces of his sneakers and instantly tumbled forward. He moaned with pain as the sand stuck to his wet, bloody face.

The screams. The footsteps. The girl was coming, running endlessly, heaving and shouting like a mad woman.

She slashed his back and Onew let out a bloodcurdling scream.

"This is for Jonghyun oppa!"

Another slash came down again.

And another.

Blood trickled down his wet, sand-clad arm, drip after drip.

The pain seared through him like fire, burning his insides.

"This is for Taemin oppa!"

Another.

Onew reached his hand far, as if reaching for an unknown illusion.

"You want to escape?" The girl laughed sinisterly.

Another.

"This is for Key oppa!"

Another.

How could a girl who had only pure, innocent adoration for an idol group become so monstrous and even resorted to killing?

She was beyond obsessed.

She was a mental case.

Onew was powerless against the slashes of hatred.

"This is for Minho oppa!"

Another.

Dad! Mom! He cried for them. He wanted to see them. He couldn't leave this world without seeing their faces for the last time.

Taemin-ah! Why wasn't he here? He felt the disfunctions of his body, their cries for stoppage. He felt his body giving way to death, succumbing to the endless slashes and stabs of the girl's mad knife.

So this was how it feels reaching death. It was scary. Painful.

The memories of his life came fleeting before his very eyes. The five boys placing their hands on each other and saying a soft "fighting!" before their every performances. His parents' face as they looked at him lovingly, saying they'd support his future endeavours and they'd love him no matter what. Tears flowed from his eyes. He was crying, not because of pains, but because of the definite of being scathed away, from life, from everybody, from the world. No. He couldn't die just yet. He still had to make it up to the SHINee boys. He had to tell his parents he loved them as much as they loved him. He had to tell them he would make them proud and not disappoint them.

But he doubt it would happen. He was dying soon. He felt his muscles contract and shrunk. He saw the open cuts of his wounds, blood, broken tissues. Why was he being cut open by a crazy ? Why was he the venting tool of this ed up ?

Another.

And another.

"W-why?" Onew managed to croak a weak, raspy, word.

The girl stopped. "Why? How dare you ask me why." She laughed. "But I'm not petty to people who are reaching death. Simple. Do you know how much I love SHINee? I love SHINee too much to see them hurt and upset. I will never allow anyone to harm them, or destroy their future. But you did it. That interview. You said you were tired of being a SHINee member. You were tired to continue being an idol. You almost caused SHINee to disband. For that, you deserve to die."

This girl was really out of her mind.

"You-you're crazy!" he spoke weakly. "A true fan would ne-never do something like this."

Monstrous rage seized the girl's eyes like black clouds. "I would give up anything for SHINee and you're saying I'm not a true fan? YOU SON OF A !" she screamed, slashing her poisonous knife down again.

The knife kept coming, piercing him, cutting him. It never stopped. Wasn't she tired? Because he was.

"Cry. Cry for my mercy! Cry for me to stop, beg me, beg me!" The voice was a faint sound to his ears.

How terrifying is this? Onew laughed mentally.

Was he dead yet?

Why was it so bright?

Was he already in heaven?

The sound of waves against the rocks.

The harsh wind.

The wet sand.

The laughter which made his head throbbed.

The energy being sapped away from him, slowly, bit by bit.

Air supply was lacking.

He was hidden.

Tucked away by his own pool of blood.

Everything felt so surreal.

Goodbye, world.

He was finally free.

The strings which held him in place were finally broken.

--

"Hyung, pick up... pick up..." Taemin muttered anxiously as he held the phone close to his ear.

It was already twelve midnight and as far as he knew, Onew had no schedules, nothing. He had only told Taemin he was going out for a walk and would be back home soon. But it never happened. It had been a little more than six hours and Taemin was worried.

The same annoying woman's voice echoed in the phone. The one he had been hearing since an hour ago he swore he could almost have it recited backwards. "The number that you have dialled is currently unavailable, please try--" He slammed the phone back down onto the receiver.

Where the hell was Onew?

Did something happen to him?

Taemin paced up and down the room in vexation. Onew could always be reached on the phone. There was no reason he could not be right now. He wasn't on a radio show. He wasn't with Manager Kim either. He wasn't at the SME building too.

The various possibilities scared the magnae. What if he was run down by a car somewhere? What if he was lost? What if he accidentally fell into a pit and couldn't get out?

Jonghyun hyung was tying up some loose ends with his latest single. Key hyung was on a radio show. Minho hyung was filming a variety show. He had no one to go to at the moment.

Maybe he should just find Onew hyung himself. Before he could get his jacket, there was a noise at the front door. Someone was back.

Onew hyung.

"Hyung!" Taemin cried out as he rushed to embrace the tall figure who had just walked in. "I was so worried about you! I thought something happened!"

"Taemin?" The deep voice came.

This wasn't Onew's voice.

Taemin looked up. It was Minho with a look of confusion and shock written on his face.

He loosened the hug and stammered, "Sorry, I-I thought you were Onew hyung."

"What happened? Where is he?"

At that moment, the phone rang. Taemin ran to pick it up, his heart beating fast, a smile broke out on his face. "Hyung! Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you!"

Minho stared at the magnae's face as it slowly changed from a look of excitement to a serious, grave expression. What had happened? Why was Taemin so worried for Onew?

Suddenly, the phone slid from Taemin's fingers and fell onto the wooden floor with a loud thud. Taemin's face was as pale as sheet, his hands and body quivering with fear. He returned Minho's questioning stare with vacant eyes.

"Hyung... he... the hospital... called... said..." tears streamed down his delicate face.

Minho walked over to the shaking boy and placed his hands on both Taemin's arms in a bid to comfort him and keep him from crumbling unto the floor. A look of worry washed over his tired face. "Taemin-ah, calm down and tell me what happened."

"Hyung... Onew hyung... he's dead!"