Taemin is the last to join the group.

Jonghyun is the first. He was casted off the streets of Seoul in 2005, with only $1.20 in his pocket and keys in the other, lost and wandering about when a man wearing a black suit with teeth so white came up to him and asked, "Do you want to be famous?" He passes Jonghyun a namecard and a location for an upcoming audition. One week later, Jonghyun took the chance and never looked back then.

In the same year, Kim Kibum gathers all his guts up and goes for the audition of SM's National Tour casting. He dances and sings his heart out, perhaps a little too loudly, but the judges like it, and that is the day he becomes Key.

Onew was casted off the streets as well, one year later. Due to his better-than-average voice and dancing skills. No matter how much Onew laughs it off and jokes about being lucky, Taemin knows that behind the clueless smiles and airheaded feel, Jinki worked twice as hard as any of the other members to be where he was now. Taemin also knows that secretly Jinki thinks he's not good looking or a good dancer and just simply not good enough. But behind Onew you couldn't tell a thing, and Taemin knows that Jinki deserved the stardom.

And yet another year later, Minho takes a chance too. At that time he doesn't fathom why he was chosen. With eyes too big for his face, he was a bona fide Frog Prince. His limbs are lanky and his dance steps too stiff too awkward for his liking. They give him a chance anyway, and although he plays it cool and shrugs it off he maybe works three, no, four times more and sometimes Jonghyun even hears him mumble 'she sells seashells on the seashore' in his sleep.

And sometimes Taemin wonders if he's the one who's not good enough.

Truth to be told, he was no different from the rest of the group. He wasn't uglier by any means, nor less talented, other than the fact that he didn't sing very well, he made up for that through his dance. Minho was not a brilliant dancer either, nor was Onew, but why can't he shake off this feeling of inferiority?

Taemin auditions in the year of 2005 along with Jonghyun and Key. They play an old reggae beat and he plunges headforth into the music, letting it move him instead of moving with it. He hears the awed gasps in the background and feels a small ball of satisfaction as he passes on to the next stage.

After the one-to-one audition, they take him to a room backstage and he walks in without a trace of doubt, before he feels a pair of rough veteran hands push him down on the table. He wants to scream but his cries are muffled, mouth stuffed with cloth and hands tied with ropes that made cuts on his wrists. A blanket of darkness falls over and the last thing he hears is, "Don't damage the goods."

And then there were hands, over his chest, waist, hips, fingers coated with the most malicious intentions trailing down, down, down, down, down.

When it is finally over, Taemin lies on the floor, numb to the stinging sensation of the pain, exhausted and drained. There is a greasy chuckle as he hears the click of a belt buckle, before a low voice rumbles, "You're going to be a star, boy."

It takes him a whole twenty minutes before he gets up and staggers out the door, body sore, limping towards the bathroom. He is shaking as he grabs onto the sides of the sink looking straight in the mirror and says, "I don't regret this," but that doesn't stop him from leaning over toliet bowl and puking his guts out.

He gets home with his voice hoarse, rims of his eyes red and swollen. His mother shrieks in fright at his state, and fusses over him all the way up. Taemin flinches the moment her hand lands on his shoulder. Hurt, his mother takes her hand back. "Oh darling," she sighs. "What in the world happened to you?"

"I'm okay, ma," he mumbles, (even if he is really not) and excuses himself before going up to his room.

When he reaches the bed he sinks in and buries his head into his pillow. Taemin thinks he's going to be sick. Again. Only the faintest sobs were audible and he wakes up the next morning to see his pillow soaked and damp. He can't seem to move. There is a sort of pain that numbs him, a piercing pain that he feels with his entire being, to his very core.

He could taste salt on his lips.

Taemin was young, they liked young, and there was really no other explanation for what happened to him.

When Kibum sees Taemin enter the dance room for the first time, he positively squeals. The choreographer leads him in and Taemin peeks from behind his messy black bob of hair, shy, cautious, as she introduces him as their new group member.

Taemin is wearing a long sleeved mint-coloured shirt with three quarter khakis that had holes at the kneecaps and patches of mismatched cloth sewned over it. He stood alone awkwardly as the choreographer left them to 'get to know each other', and there was a long period of silence before Kibum drawled, "He looks a hell lot taller than you, Jjong, and that is really saying something."

Jonghyun promptly scowls as Kibum breaks out howling in laughter and even Taemin lets a grin slip. His frown melts eventually, at the sight of Key gushing over Taemin and pinching his baby cheeks. "Look at how adorable he is," Kibum coos. "Why can't you be more like him, Jjongie-ah?"

Jonghyun chuckles a little and walks over to ruffle Taemin's hair. "Welcome to the team, kid," he grins. It bares the bottom of his teeth, a grin so blinding that the angels were put to shame.

Taemin secretly smiles back, tugging the edge of his sleeves slightly further down his wrists.

Taemin goes straight to the dance room everyday after school without fail. He plugs in his headphones and does a quick stretch, before letting the rhythm take over him. He lifts his hands, and there is music coursing through his veins, to the tips of his fingers. He drowns in the sweet, sweet sound and Taemin thinks that there is no other feeling in the world that could compare to this.

It is only in this moment of movement that he loses all his inhibitions.

Kibum only comes on the weekends. Daegu was 'too ing far', put delicately in Kibum's own words. He doesn't have to worry about anyone or anything--

"--Whoa there," and Taemin crashes right into Jonghyun's arms. They fall onto the wooden floor together and he looks up to see Jonghyun wearng a bemused expression, lips quirking up. Heart pounding, Taemin flushes a deep red, and makes haste to get up.

"I didn't see you there," he mumbles, embarrassed thoroughly. "Sorry, hyung."

Jonghyun gets onto his feet as well and brushes off the creases on his jeans. "No worries," he gives another easy grin, and pats his back. "You're an amazing dancer, kid," Jonghyun murmurs. "Keep up the good work."

With that, he leaves the practice room with the warmth of his hand lingering on Taemin's back.

Taemin feels his face heating up for a entirely different reason, and that keeps him motivated for the hours to come.

There is only him, Jonghyun, and him again.

Taemin rushses a little more than he should, from the moment the bell rings to the moment his feet soars off right to the doors of SM Entertainment. He stands outside the door with anticipation running through him, and he feels his veins shiver. It is a completely different feeling from what he has ever felt in the twelve years he has lived and he wouldn't trade this for the world.

He lifts his hand and knocks - once, twice, gently, and the silhouette of Jonghyun's back is a visage that burns in his dreams for the nights to come.

"--And this is how you do it, one, two, turn," Taemin twists his body slightly and turns away from the mirror, facing Jonghyun. "Now you try, hyung."

Jonghyun looks at him apprehensively, and arches his eyebrow. Taemin resists the urge to poke him and bites on his fingernails. "That's dirty, maknae," Jonghyun says teasingly, and put his hands up in surrender as Taemin shoves him lightly. He takes one last look at Taemin before muttering under his breath, "One, two, turn."

Jonghyun stumbles and crashes headfirst into the mirror. He knocks his head againhst the glass and gives a groan. "Oh my gosh, hyung," Taemin gasps in between his chortles, "Are you okay?" But the pathetic look on his face is enough to send Taemin howling in laughter again.

"Oi, maknae," Jonghyun scowls and shoots him a dirty look.

Taemin bends down and pats his bruise, chuckling softly. Jonghyun pouts, but it eventually breaks into a reluctant grin. He pulls him closer and nuzzles their foreheads together, elicting a small squeal of suprise from Taemin, before staring straight into his eyes and letting a moment of silence fall over them then whispering, "Let's practice the dance step."

Taemin is left hanging, with the breath of Jonghyun ghosting his lips, and he is certain that the flush is not from the heat of summer.