Minseok shifts in his worn bed after feeling the harsh jab pierce the area between his shoulder blades, rousing him from the slumber that he had pleasantly been enjoying. He bites back a low groan, knowing that allowing one to escape would only mean an uncomfortable few moments of questions from his assailant, and after a few seconds of debate, forces his eyelids apart.

He’s immediately jolted by the sight of wide, doe eyes staring at him in excitement directly in front of his features – much too close for comfort.

The older male is unable to stop the scream from erupting through his throat as he hurriedly jumps out of bed, cheeks painted a bright scarlet and heart beating erratically out of his chest.

Luhan just grins at his reaction – a smile that’s all teeth and genuine joy and energy and everything that Minseok wants to have but doesn’t. He’s clearly pleased with the response he was able to elicit from his fellow bandmate, and in delight, he playfully wraps an arm around the latter’s neck in a boyish headlock. “Haha, got you!”

Thoughts run in and out of Minseok’s head – real or not real? – but he throws them aside in order to form a reaction, knowing that if he allowed himself to be lost in his thoughts, he would only succeed in looking ridiculous. With a smile that comes more naturally than he had expected it to, the young man allows his lips to twitch upwards in some sort of joy that he can’t exactly describe and can’t exactly explain. “That’s not fair; you cheated! It’s too early for this.”

A chuckle resounds from the chest behind him, and Minseok is glad that Luhan is unable to see his face at their current angle. “I mean, what were you expecting me to do? Allow you to miss the final rehearsal for our comeback stage today?” Minseok easily imagines that the younger Chinese boy rolls his eyes after saying this line before continuing. He finds himself slightly surprised by the fact that they had all been looking forward to this day for months now, yet he had still somehow managed to forget that it had finally come around. Still, Minseok has a habit of laughing when he isn’t sure what else to do, and so that’s what he does. “You need to get showered so that we can go practice again. Which is a bit ridiculous, since the stylists will have us shower again before our actual performance,” Luhan pauses in thought for a moment to release his hold on the smaller man in order to fall back against his bed in thought. “But I mean, as long as it’s for the fans in the long run, I don’t think that it minds all that much. I’ll do anything if it means making them happy.”

And Minseok doesn’t mean for his smile to falter – no, he really doesn’t.

But he can’t help but become curious about the extent to which the younger man is willing to go in order to ensure the happiness of his fans and he can’t help but feel like he’s a part of that extra step that’s being taken in order to make everything happy and merry and perfect in the eyes of the fans and he longs to ask Luhan about it, but he doesn’t. He can’t. Because Minseok is shy and cowardly and unconfident and everything that Luhan isn’t which is why he can’t bring himself to confront the latter about what has really been on his mind for so long.

He allows a sigh.

Luhan zones in on the soft sound almost immediately, sitting up in the bed with a slight frown marring his features.

(No, don’t frown. You don’t deserve to frown. I don’t deserve to be enough to make you frown. That’s strange. That’s unfair. Please smile. You deserve to smile.)

“Are you alright, Minseok?”

He wants to respond with a negative but knows that even the thought itself is futile. So he manages a halfhearted glare as he mutters, “I’ve woken up so late that I bet all of the hot water has been used up. Such a lovely way to start the day.”

The lie is believed easily and the easy expression returns to Luhan’s features. “Hey now, I didn’t wake you up at this time for nothing, you know.” Minseok blinks and suddenly feels stupid for not previously noting the dim lighting of the room, signaling dawn at best. “You haven’t used your turn to shower first in a really long time, and I think that everyone’s a bit exhausted from all the effort they put into the last minute changes last night. I figured that you might enjoy using the moment to your advantage.”

Minseok feels himself smile, “Did you really?”

There’s a shrug on Luhan’s part as he turns to face away from his fellow band member and stand up out of the bed, “I’ve always been the type of guy to wake up early, and I think that people are going to assume that I’m only doing it to get first dibs on shower privileges. It’s only fair that I share the glory with my ‘fellow old man.’’ He pauses for a moment to shiver as he agitatedly adds, “I’m going to kill Jongin and Sehun if they refer to me like that one more time. We’re not that old.”

“No, not at all,” Minseok says airily, finding that his thoughts aren’t entirely in focus. There’s a short lull in the conversation as Luhan continues to angrily mumble about his personal vendetta against the troublesome maknaes. And then suddenly – perhaps because Minseok is allowing the silence to steer his thoughts in whichever direction they desire instead of actually trying to focus them himself – he blurts out, “Would you like to shower with me?”

He doesn’t mean it in any ual way at all. No, of course not. His logic is simply that Luhan has done something nice for him, and so it’s only fair that he does something nice for Luhan in return. Having to cram three – sometimes four – grown men into one shower is both awkward and uncomfortable, and his rationale is that it wouldn’t be too bad if there are only two. Besides, they’re both guaranteed hot water that way.

But as soon as the words have tumbled out of his mouth, Minseok is suddenly struck by the nature of his words and his cheeks resume their pink tint. There’s a significant amount of embarrassment flooding his mind and he’s quite sure that he wants to disappear in some dark hole that he’ll never crawl out of despite the knowledge that such a reaction is both childish and impossible in his situation (dorm rooms don’t have Minseok-sized holes in their floors, after all).

Luhan blinks for a moment before turning to face the older man with an expression of slight surprise. “Huh. I didn’t think that you were into that kind of stuff, Minseok.”

Minseok has decided that he will personally dig that Minseok-sized hole if it means escape.

“I think that I’ll pass though. I don’t really like sharing the shower with anyone at all.” He smirks for a moment before joking, “And if we’re late because of my refusal to get sandwiched between two other guys, I’m just going to throw all the blame on Sehun and Jongin – I think that he manager is more likely to trust my words over theirs anyway.”

A part of Minseok rationalizes that such a sentiment is realistic and likely to be true due to Luhan’s obsessive, picky nature on many things, but the larger part of him continues to insist that the refusal stems from the fact that Minseok isn’t perfect and his body isn’t perfect and it’s not something that Luhan would be interested in so of course he wouldn’t be interested in having to share such a confined space with the older individual.

He knows that he shouldn’t believe such things and he knows that such thoughts are simply histrionic in their scope and that they’re just plain wrong, but that doesn’t make it any easier to push them away from his mind.

“Ah, okay,” he mutters, standing up from his sitting position. “I guess I’ll go get started then.”

Luhan hums in agreement, before chuckling, “Time for the more difficult task of waking up Yixing and Wufan.” He stops for a moment in order to shudder. “I swear, sometimes our dear ol’ duizhang, is worse than Sehun and Jongin combined. I think I need to stop myself from strangling him at times.”

Minseok turns to glance at the younger man’s expression, but despite his words, there is a large smile as Luhan brushes past him in order to go wake his friend.

The brunet sighs once more, and this time, without any feeling of guilt.

---

“No, Hyung, that’s wrong.”

Chanyeol groans and all but throws himself against the wall of the practice room.

“I don’t get it then, Jongin. I thought that I was able to finally figure it out last night and I’m doing the exact same thing,” the older man grumbles in frustration. “I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong.”

Jongin frowns for a moment – perhaps still not used to the fact that he has somehow gained the role of teacher despite being the second youngest in the room – and waves a hand in partial dismissal, “That’s okay, I can review it with you again, Hyung. Everyone else can just take a break.”

A few muttered curses escape the rapper’s lips, and Baekhyun gives him a short pat on the back in reassurance. Junmyeon turns to face the group that is preparing to disperse, already giving orders before they have the chance to start out on their rare break. “Baekhyun, Kyungsoo, Jongdae, I want you to take Luhan somewhere and do some extra practice with the pronunciation of his lines. You’ve improved well, Hyung, but I know that you said that you’re not confident with it yet.”

“We don’t even have permission to sing live today,” Kyungsoo mumbles tiredly, “Is there really such a point in making such an effort?”

The older man shoots his friend a glare, but it is Jongdae who answers for him. “Soo, either way, our fans have been anticipating this comeback for a long time. Even if our mics aren’t actually , at least the audience members in the front will be able to hear us.”

For the fans. It’s always for the fans.

“It’s alright. I’m willing to learn anyway,” Luhan adds, somehow managing an excited smile despite the fatigue that is widespread throughout the room. Kyungsoo only offers him a pained look, obviously desperate for even the shortest of breaks, but Luhan simply throws an arm around him and leads the way to a more secluded area so that they can begin practice.

Junmyeon nods in what is clear approval, before he turns to the rest of the gathered group in order. “Sehun, work on choreography touch-ups with Yifan and Zitao. I think that I’ll join in later. Actually, I should probably ask Jongdae to join this group as well; Baekhyun and Kyungsoo should be able to handle the pronunciation issue just fine. Yixing, if you could help Sehun out, that would be great.”

The Chinese dancer chuckles and mutters something in his native tongue to his other Chinamen, and if Minseok heard correctly, then he’s pretty sure that the young man is making a joke about how uptight their group leader is. Both Yifan and Zitao join in with his laughter, and Sehun is quick to whine about his lack of understanding (to which Yixing only throws an arm around his shoulder before cheering, “Sehunnie, our maknae, is growing so tall! Let me catch up; give me some of your height!”).

(Sehun flusters in embarrassment and pleads for Zitao to somehow control his elder.)

Minseok squirms uncomfortably for a moment, watching as Junmyeon turns on his heel to go force Jongdae into dance practice, debating whether or not he should actually speak up. It isn’t long for the words to come tumbling out of his mouth though, as it’s painfully awkward being the lone figure standing in the middle of the practice room. “Junmyeon, wait! Um, what do you want me to do?”

The outburst seems to catch the young leader offguard, but when he turns once more to face his fellow band member, there is an easygoing smile on his face. “Oh, sorry, Minseok. My mind is all over the place today; I think that my nerves are really getting to me.” There’s a pause as he thinks the question over, before he carefully responds, “I can’t think of anything in particular that you need to work on, Hyung… Why don’t you just take a break? We’ll be no more than an hour, and I bet that you’re eager for a break just as much as the others are.”

Oh.

Minseok tries to smile. He really does. But all that he feels he really succeeds in is a strained twitch of the lip that pulls at his mouth at unnatural angles.

Junmyeon doesn’t think twice about the expression and only grins brighter before running off to go find Jongdae.

A small piece of his conscious is whispering to him about how this could be a good thing. How maybe it means that Junmyeon believes that he’s doing everything fine just the way he is and he deserves a break simply because he’s been working so hard. Maybe it means that all of the painful effort that he’s forced through his body has finally come to some sort of fruition because that would make sense, wouldn’t it? He should be happy that he’s been allowed a break. He knows how desperately the others crave one.

But Minseok is anything but happy.

Again, he’s alone. Again, he finds himself leaning against the glass of the dance mirrors with a knapsack full of empty dreams resting on his lap as he watches his other band members continue to force themselves to practice. And it’s not like he wouldn’t want to join him, but the fact that he was asked – told – to sit makes him feel as though he’s unwelcome.

No, that’s not it.

The fact that he wasn’t told to keep practicing makes him feel as though he’s worth less than he already believes he is because no one will notice if he messes up anyway. He’s just a single silhouette in a crossfire of supernovas and light and that general notion does nothing but bring him pain. After all, the number eleven isn’t ideal for dance formations, so perhaps all the company needed was someone decent enough to serve as their placeholder.

At least Minseok is able to tell himself that he’s decent.

He covers up his sadness by reaching into the bag on his lap and pulling out a bottle of water to drink. When he moves to return it back to its place, he’s greeted by excited eyes that sparkle with mirth.

“Hi there,” comes the delicate tenor, “How were you able to convince gramps over there to give you a break?”

Minseok has already shut his eyes to the light before him, knowing that if he allows himself to take too long of a peek, he’ll only succeed in deluding himself with the illusion once more. “Don’t be silly. You shouldn’t call him gramps if you’re older than him. Besides, he’s our leader. He deserves nothing but your respect.”

Luhan snorts before allowing himself to lie down on the dusty floor, “Don’t act like you don’t think it. Junmyeon acts older than all of us which is nothing short of ridiculous. I suppose it doesn’t matter since it gets things done, but I just wish he’d loosen up for a minute or two.”

“He was looking for Jongdae earlier.”

“Yeah, I know. Probably wanted to sneak out a make-out session or something before dragging him away for ‘dance practice.’” The younger man chuckles while Minseok can’t stop himself from blinking in surprise.

“J-Jongdae and Junmyeon? They… They have that sort of relationship?”

Luhan allows a short chuckle, “I wouldn’t be surprised if they did. Jongdae is always so careful around Junmyeon and so reckless around the rest of us. But I suppose that whatever’s going on between them is meant to stay between them. I wouldn’t want to pry.”

“But is something like that even allowed?”

“You’re thinking about it too much,” comes the blunt response, complete with a crinkled nose and furrowed brow. “Our judgment shouldn’t matter. As long as they’re happy, then as their friends, we should be happy as well. After all, such relationships between individuals are much more important than a written contract.”

Minseok hums in response, not knowing what else to say and not knowing what else to think. At this point, he’s struggling to maintain his lack of focus on the matter at hand because he knows that doing so is in his best interest and he’s tired of losing himself time after time again.

He doesn’t understand why he does this to himself, really, but he supposes habits are difficult to break and this one is simply no exception.

It isn’t long before the voices in the back of his mind consume his being and he finds his eyes opening themselves to the illumination once more while he can only whimper and beg and plead for his rationality to win the battle just once. That’s all he asks for.

But then his eyes are open and all he sees is Luhan, Luhan, Luhan, and maybe that’s all he’s meant to see anyway. Maybe, rationality is never meant to win because rationality is the bad guy who’s trying to cloud every small thought that Minseok has left. Maybe the whispering murmurs of wishes and maybes and hope are the good guys in Minseok’s strange reality and so it would only make sense that he listens to what they have to tell them because the winners always have to be the good guys because that’s just how the world is supposed to work.

He’s almost sure of it.

Luhan adjusts himself so that he’s leaning against the mirror directly next to Minseok, their thighs touching and their fingers centimeters from grazing, and Luhan’s warmth filtering through the frigid front that Minseok has set up around himself as a protective barrier. The older male can’t stop himself from shifting his weight to scoot closer to the man at his side, selfishly basking in the sunshine and starlight that this man offers to him, but too scared to get too close – not because he fears getting burned, but because he fears the harsh scorn that asking for too much will bring him.

“Kyungsoo and Baekhyun weren’t particularly excited to work on pronunciation with me and I can’t blame them. I think that poor Junmyeon might be worrying about all of this too much. I told them to go sneak a snack or two from one of the vending machines and take a break for a  while since Junmyeon will be too preoccupied with dancing and Jongdae to really look into what they’re getting themselves into. But I’m not particularly hungry or particularly thirsty, so I guess I’m just stuck here.”

The more rational part of Minseok is telling him that Luhan is only stuck here and doesn’t actually want to be here and imploring him to wake up from this strange, strange delusion, but Minseok can’t find it within himself to do so.

“Ah, I see…”

“Not,” Luhan continues, “That being stuck here is a bad thing, of course. I’d rather just go out there and perform. Tensions are running too high right now between everyone. I’m waiting for Chanyeol to punch Jongin in the face out of frustration.”

Minseok finds himself chuckling at the imaginary sight of the gentle giant begging the young dancer for forgiveness after he had allowed his motions to consume his actions, knowing that Chanyeol is the type of individual to act before he thinks. “I suppose that’s true.”

There is a short lull of silence, until Luhan rests his head against the glass, chin tilted up towards the sky as he allows his eyes to shut. “You know, you’re very quiet, Minseok. I think that you’re the quietest one out of all of us, which is kind of funny, because the fact that you’re also the oldest means that you can be as loud as you want and none of you can call you out for it. Why are you so quiet, Minseok?”

The question is random and something that the older boy hadn’t been expecting and he finds that he doesn’t have the words to formulate an intelligible response. “Well,” he tries, “I’ve always been quiet. I suppose that that’s just how I am.”

Luhan hums in thought at this, and though Minseok is desperate to find out what he’s thinking, he can’t bring himself to ask. “Being quiet isn’t a bad thing, of course. So please don’t think that it is. It’s nice having someone quiet to talk to since everyone else is so painfully loud and won’t even let me talk.” He chuckles at this revelation before continuing, “I love them all, of course. They always say the most interesting things. And I suppose that I’ve grown so accustomed to it that I don’t know what I’ll do when everyone goes away and I’m left by myself. It’ll be hard to adjust.”

Minseok is startled by the words, namely because he can’t imagine why Luhan would ever believe that he’d ever be alone because everyone loves Luhan and everyone loves the way he sings and the way he dances and the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs and the way he does everything he possibly can to make others happy and there is no way that Luhan would ever be alone ever.

He knows that he’s not the only one to share such sentiments regarding the Chinese man. He knows that he can’t be the only one that longs to bask in his essence and hold his hand when they begin their ascent into the sky and brush the sweaty bangs out of his eyes after a particularly long performance. He knows that he can’t be the only one and it’s silly for him to believe that he could possibly be the only one because Luhan is the earth and Minseok is the moon and his purpose is to revolve around this celestial being without never getting too close because doing so would do nothing but cause trouble.

Minseok doesn’t understand people and he supposes that maybe he never will.

“I wonder, sometimes,” the younger man murmurs, the sound faint even to Minseok’s ears, “I wonder if this whole idea of shipping myself to South Korea and lying to my parents was a good thing. I wonder sometimes if joining this giant group was a wise idea. I wonder what would have happened if I had denied SM’s offer and run off on my own to start my own group with the people I know and the people that I care about. And I wonder if I would care about the fact that we don’t have any expensive equipment to record with or any big corporations to assist in our promotions or pockets that are so full with money that I don’t have any idea what I should do with them.” A pause.  “I think that I would be happier that way, in all honesty.”

For a moment, no words are said. Minseok feels strange and awkward and believes that these words are words that he shouldn’t have heard because these words seem too real and too genuine to be something that Luhan would actually talk to him about. But the rational part of him is telling him once again that the words really were spoken and they really are real and that Luhan is expecting some sort of response out of him.

But Minseok continues to deny what is happening because something like this has never happened before so how is he supposed to know how to react? Has Luhan even spoken to him on such a scale like this before? No, that was just another dream. Luhan couldn’t be more bothered with what Minseok thinks or what he has to say. The thought itself is nothing short of ridiculous.

Luhan emits a soft sigh, straightening his neck and running a tired hand through his dyed locks. Minseok suddenly notices that there are dark circles underneath the usually bright orbs and that his skin is paler than it should be. He notices the pain that his bandmate’s sigh emulates and the fatigue that is lining his quiet whispers and it all reminds him of another moment – or maybe two, or four, or five – but he can’t exactly remember what the moment is and it makes him feel all the more useless.

It hurts.

“You know, it’s nice having a quiet friend like you, Minseok. You’re a very good listener.” The taller boy has stood up out of his position now, stretching as though his body had been painfully sore and he’s only now waking up. There’s a smile on his lips, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and the realization of this hits Minseok hard because he’s never noticed how easy it is for Luhan to pretend that he’s happy. He registers someone halfheartedly ruffling his hair in affection before watching Luhan’s worn sneakers jog away from him.

He’s quite sure that he had only imagined the younger man’s voice murmuring “I wish that you would just speak up more” as he darted away because it would be silly to believe that Luhan actually cared about what Minseok thought of him.

Their relationship – the friendship that he likes to believe they’ve formed – is something created only for the sake of the fans, after all. And he needs to stop deluding himself into thinking otherwise.

Minseok has to try harder to keep his eyes shut next time. Losing himself in an illusion hurts.

---

author’s note: ah, i'm actually really excited to type up the final chapter of this three-shot! shooting to get that up by this thursday. i hope that you've all enjoyed this update as i experienced a short writer's block after typing up the first third of it and was scared that the rest would come off as word vomit. /shot. again, thanks for sticking around! it really means a lot. c: