Minseok’s time in China had been better than he’d first expected, but he couldn’t deny the emptiness that clutched his heart when he thought of his family.  With the strenuous practicing and hectic schedules, he hadn’t had the chance to call his parents for the past several weeks.  The toll of this, the language barrier caused by his still elementary-level Mandarin, and the discouragement he’d been receiving from fans made the feeling grow, enveloping his very soul and leaving him seeing himself as nothing next to group-mates Kris and Luhan.

            He exited the lounge, choosing instead to wallow in his thoughts alone on his bed.  The weakness he felt now, just a month after debuting, made him scoff, eyes burning with self-deprecation.  A mere month and he already felt like quitting.  He’d survived four years of training for this, just to be knocked down by a severe case of homesickness.  Minseok couldn’t believe himself, how much of a “quitter” he found himself becoming.

            Reaching his shared room he popped his head in, double-checking that Zitao was, in fact, away with the leader.  With this confirmed he slipped his shoes off and made his way to his bed, making a note to scold the youngest for leaving his clothes on the floor again.  Settling back into his comforter, Minseok let dam break, tears streaming hot and wet down his face.  He was sick of this happening; sick of feeling dejected for no reason, sick of coos of baozi, of thoughts of giving up, of the tears, of the loneliness he shouldn’t be feeling. 

            A knock at his door caused him to roll on his side, hiding his face in his sheets. The familiar whisper of “Minseok?” only sank him further into the covers, releasing a faint mutter of take your shoes off to reveal his presence.  The resounding chuckle was muffled, but he knew Jongdae when he heard him. 

           Minseok shifted away, closer and closer to the wall, from the dip forming in his mattress, but his front soon hit a barrier.  He winced as the warm presence drew towards him, attempting to will away his disheveled appearance and dampened cheeks.  Jongdae lifted the quilt, joining his boyfriend within its warmth. 

           Without saying a word, the younger man turned him around, enveloping Minseok in his embrace.  Wrapping his arms around him in return, he could feel his emotions pouring out like a wave, once again weeping into Jongdae’s shoulder.  They stayed like this for the next hour, Minseok’s sobs and the younger’s hushed assurances the only sounds filling the room. 

           Soon enough the elder was exhausted into a fitful slumber.  Jongdae adjusted the blanket, finally raising it above their heads, and dragged them both upwards until their heads hit the sleep-worn pillow.  Kissing his eyelids softly, the vocalist switched the light off and joined the elder in dreamland, only able to hope he would feel better come morning.