“This has been SHINee’s Leader Taemin, makdongie Onew, Flaming Chrisma Jonghyun, Almighty Minho and Bling Bling Key!”

– SHINee

You wonder how 5, barely pubescent boys could debut and meet such success.

You wonder just how close were they to have not made the group…or how close they were to have not debuted.

Idol life is a tricky business.

Trainee life is even worse.

Full of doubt and insecurities. You fight, and train and perform and learn the best you can, and yet they can put you into a group, almost as easily as they can to take you out.

You wonder just how many times the boys might have been put into different groups, before forming the group you see now.

You hear about how they were when they were trainees…but you don’t see.

You can imagine Jinki going to school, studying hard, going to train, return home, and then repeat all over again. But you don’t see how he will wake up early in the morning to help his parents get ready for the store, you don’t see he stays up late to study, then rush to the company to train as much as he could. You don’t see him leave the company and deliver papers to earn money so he wouldn’t be a burden. You don’t see him repeating the same routine, all the while never knowing if he would debut in a group.

You can imagine Jonghyun belting his heart out with his powerful voice. You can imagine him learning, day in and day out, how to write music, how to play instruments. But you don’t see how he’s scared, how he’s scared that he had stopped his education for a dream that was placed so close but always out of his reach. He has a strong voice; he is a strong contestant and has a high possibility of being placed in a group. But his voice is also dangerous, it is too powerful sometimes, too unique, too strong, he might overpower the group, but will he be successful as a solo artist, in a world where idol groups are trending? He doesn’t know. They don’t know, and you don’t know. All he can do is practice. Practice all he can and pray, and hope.

You see Kibum, and his desire to be a singer. You’ve seen his audition tape, his uniqueness among those who auditioned. His personality stands out but you don’t see how even with his level of confidence and sure of self, that he can also be turned into a slump. You don’t see how two years into training, he has times where he’s returned home, and is mad at the world, mad that he couldn’t do better, mad that it doesn’t seem like he’s improving, so mad that he can’t talk to his umma, or his beloved grandmother.  He wants to be famous, but you don’t see why he feels the need to be so eccentric. He needs to stand out, to cover for the fact that his vocals are still in training, that his dancing is still in training, that his confidence is still in training. He will play off the look of indifference and smugness when placed in a group, but he will work to make sure he stays. You haven’t seen trainees leaving and going in groups, he has, and he fears; fears that he might be in that group if he doesn’t work hard, if he doesn’t stand out. So he does. You see his unique character, but you don’t see it as his way to survive in the harsh entertainment industry.

Then there is tall Minho. The tall, handsome, good looking, athletic boy who was street casted. The boy who you see will meet every challenge with a fiery glare. The boy you don’t see breaking down and becoming discouraged because he feels that all he is was a pretty face. You don’t see how he struggles to prove his worth. He trains hard through the night, barely sleeping, dazing out in class only to return to the company to break past his pretty face. He wants to be in a group, just like all the other trainees, but you don’t see that he wants to be in a group not because of his face, he wants to be in it because he wants to win himself, to win the labels put on him.

Taemin is young, only 12 when he auditioned, with his skinny body, love for steak and striking dance moves. He is young, he doesn’t know how scary it really is to be in an environment where everyone you train with could potentially be someone you have to beat and be better than. All he wants to do is dance. He needs to learn to sing, but he can’t because of his age. He finds a friend on the roof singing one day, and they become close, but Taemin is slowly learning to understand how scary it is that your close friends can be someone that is taken away to debut in a snap. His friend Jinki is taken away to be put in a group, and Taemin is alone. You don’t see him sitting on the roof by himself without his friend by his side, and his little eyes are wet because he can’t sing on the roof with anyone anymore. He doesn’t know what to do, he knows as much as you do. It’s not much.

But you see them now, as I see them, as a solid group of 5 with multiple charting albums under their wing. With experience gathered beneath them in the span of 3 years. They’ve become close, almost like brothers. They have appointed roles in the family, Jinki is the oldest, the leader, the guardian that is more clumsy than anything. There’s Jonghyun, the mood maker, the singer, the joker, the one that keeps things light. There’s Kibum, the umma, the diva, the one with confidence, the one who cares. There’s Minho, the silent one, the quiet protector, and Taemin, the baby, the youngest, the cutest, the one they all want to protect but sometimes ends up being the other way around.

This is who they are. What you see is not always a lie. What you see, is sometimes what I see

We all see them as they gather into a hug when they win first, we all see them when they have interaction with each other. We all see them at every win, and every award they have, it’s as if it’s their first.

You see them as I see them, a group who just turned 3, and two years away from the alleged ‘5 year curse’. You worry as I worry, wondering if this still young group will pull through unscathed unlike their two sunbae boy groups, who dealt with their own changes and challenges.

You don’t see them as I did, as they all sat down one night, after ending Lucifer and Hello promotions, after Jonghyun’s scandal, after Minho’s injuries, the night of their 3^rd year anniversary.

“3 years,” Jinki said smiling.

“That’s 2 years before 5,” Kibum said bluntly.

“Don’t say that,” Minho said quietly,

“What will happen to us?” Taemin asked

“Nothing,” Jonghyun said steadily, but I hear his voice waver. The boys do too because they look at each other.

They all look at Jinki, who looks at me because I am standing there, watching them.

I don’t say anything, but they gather together and shout

“We are going! Ultra SHINee transformation!”

And just like that, they’re who you see and who I see.

Does it matter what you see, and what I see?

Maybe not…not really.

What you see is who they are.

What I see is what makes them who they are.

But in the end, I see 5 boys, boys who are growing into young men. Boys who are weathering the turns and tumbles of life, and weathering the storm of idol life.

I see them individually. I see what you don’t see when they are alone, by themselves, as their lives catch up with them. I see them without the whirlwind of schedules, performances and activities blurring their minds. I see them when they have a moment where they sit, and have their life catch up to them and leave them breathless. I see them as they have a rare moment to reflect on everything they have done. I am there during the only moment where they are normal, confused, conflicted and vulnerable.

You see them together; you see them stand strong as they wrap their arms around each other and shout their team chant. You see them as the youngest wipes the tears from the oldest, and how they have fun together.

I see what you see, and more. I see the truth behind the cameras, but I also see what you see.

 I see a group of boys enjoying life, enjoying what they have, and enjoying what they do. I see the pain and tears they shed behind the cameras, but I also see how those tears and pain have made them stronger, more together, how they make each other shine.

In the end, what you see is the end product of what I witness. I see the tears, but you see the smiles because of those tears. I see the pain, but you see the strength they gain from it. I see the trials, tribulations and challenges, but you see a performance full of heart and soul because of those trials.

In the end, you see them truly happy, as they stand before the stage, as they stand as 5, knowing the trials and pain the others have gone through. But they stand there, knowing that in the group, they’ve got 4 other people that will catch them, that will hold onto them, and weather the storm together.

But in the end, it’s all worth it. In the end, they stand on the stage receiving the love of the thousands cheering their names, and that is their strength. In the end as they get into the car in a tired state, they sleep with a smile on their face because all they see are waving glow sticks, and smiles of their fans. As they call the families they haven’t had the chance to see, they can truthfully, proudly, without a doubt tell them that they are in love with life, and in love with what they do.

They will tell them of their hardships, of the pains and tears they had to face, but they will say that everything was worth it, because it was. Because everything you see on TV, the happy smiles, the love of life, they’re not fake. They’re not a shield. They’re real.

They’re real because everything that happens behind the scenes is nothing, compared to what they’ve learned from it, and what they’ve gained from it.

So really…is there any difference to what you see and what I see?

Do you see the difference?

I don’t.

A/N: Thank you everyone for your continous support for my short story :) I hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you have time please continue to support my new upcoming story "Dear Journal" which you can find under my stories tab.

Thank you!!