Suho is an angel. His smile is as bright as the stars and his heart is as big as the sky. And like any other 20 year old, Suho has his dreams and aspirations. But Suho is much closer to his dreams than most others his age. Suho is a trainee in one of Korea’s largest entertainment companies and his dream to become a singer is on its way to being fulfilled.  

Suho has always loved to sing, but his apprehension had kept him from auditioning for anything, despite encouragement from friends and family. He would bashfully thank others for their compliments and hide behind the piano in him room, composing another song; creating another masterpiece.

Suho has always been kind and filial. He would take care of his parents and take care of his classmates. He was the peacemaker, and despite being quiet, he was always one to listen. His friends adored him for his attitude and sincerity. And aside from a gratifying voice, Suho was blessed with quite a handsome face.

As a turn of fate, Suho was spotted, and scouted by a top entertainment company, on his way home from school one day. He was, as usual, walking at an easy pace, trying to crush any fallen leaves with his footsteps, when he was noticed. It was a soft autumn day; not cold but not too warm, and a refreshing, cool breeze blew occasionally.  His steps had quickened as he noticed a woman moving toward him and he had kept his eyes trained to the floor.

At the age of 16, he was cautious; avoiding the gaze of the woman that was approaching him. He was scared and unsure, wondering if she wanted to hurt him or if she was an old friend of his mother who hadn’t seen him since his 2^nd birthday. He never would have guessed…

At the age of 17, he was thankful; thankful to that woman and to that fateful day, and thankful for the chance to become who he had always dreamt of becoming. He knew it would be difficult, but he was determined to persevere. He wanted to be able to show his friends and family that they had all been right. He didn’t want to disappoint anyone.

At the age of 18, he was strong; strong-minded and willing to participate in everything. He wanted to learn and improve and to get better even faster so that he could debut and let the world know his name. He wanted his albums in stores and his face on billboards. He wanted fans and even anti-fans just for the sake of it.

At the age of 19, he was confident; sure that his time was coming. He had trained and improved an immeasurable amount since his rookie days. He had graduated school and could devote more time to becoming the best. He had seen ordinary people come into the company as trainees and debut in groups almost at once and despite a slight bout of jealousy, he was convinced that he was better and that he’d debut soon too.

Now, at the age of 20, Suho still loves to sing, is still kind and filial, and is much better looking than he was all those years ago, but Suho is still trying. Suho is still trying and training hard. Every morning he wakes up earlier than the others in his dormitory. And every night he returns later. He tells himself that there’s still room for improvement. He could work on his flexibility and his stamina. He could work on his vocal runs and his range. But after nearly 5 years, his friends have forgotten, the excitement has worn off and he is tired.

Suho still sends his parents money every month along with an occasional phone call or letter, and he still writes to his friends and asks how they’re doing, but it’s as if he’s a world of pain away from them all. His limbs ache from the constant dancing and his throat hurts from singing song after song despite the freezing weather. He isn’t permitted to let the cold he’s caught hinder his practices, and he’s told very sternly to keep the virus to himself.

Suho still smiles every time he sees someone in the company. He’s made friends with a few new trainees and eats with them at lunch breaks. But as they carry on about the complex dance routines and the high register songs, Suho smiles an empty smile. They’re new and will probably debut before him. It’s what is normal. And Suho has all but lost hope.

One day, Suho decides it’s time to take a break. He doesn’t think he can go home and face his family though, so he walks to a park near the company and sits and contemplates instead. He thinks about how his life has been these last few years. He has strained his body nearly every day, going further than possible for the sake of improvement. Just a slight improvement and he’d be happy. He thinks of all the injuries he’s acquired and remembers how he’d brushed them all off, saying it would all be worth it in the end. He decides he’s become a perfectionist of sorts, and knowing that perfection is impossible, he has begun to self-destruct.

His friends have all gone to university and some of them have girlfriends. They can all drive by now and they party together every Saturday night, telling him it’s a pity he can’t join them. They tell him about their road trips and about their new apartments. They tell him about their new jobs and colleagues and complain about their bosses and loosely add words of encouragement at the end. But he knows they’re not sincere. They’ve lost hope just as he has.

Suho decides to accidentally walk in front of a car. He sees the bright headlights, a stark contrast to the black, moon-less night and smiles as the impact sends him flying. His head knocks back and the air is pushed out of his lungs in a split second. A scream he doesn’t recognise and a distant wail of sirens are the last things he hears before he loses consciousness.

Suho is yet to debut.

omg. whut. i'm so sorry...