The dressing room was in complete chaos, people moving around, clothes and make-up needing to be fixed. Xiumin could barely think properly in the environment. He got pulled to one stop so someone could fix something on him, then to another stop so someone else could work too.

He almost felt helpless, useless. Like a little kid, who needs his parents to put his clothes on.

But that’s how it was. Only the stylist knew the proper way to put on the more difficult clothing, and she was always have to fix it for him, he never did it right. And he knew nothing about make-up. The first few stages were really confusing, he was overwhelmed by all the rush.

But still, after 3 years, he’d expect to be used to it. He wasn’t. He did learn a few more things about the getting ready process, but he often still felt like he was doing it wrong, and that he needed someone to fix it for him.

But that all didn’t matter the moment he stepped out on the stage. Everything changed, and suddenly he was in control. He had the power, he was the one doing everything right.

And he loved that. He loved the feeling of being in front of his fans, delivering his best performance every time, and seeing how much they loved him. It made everything worthwhile.

_{The End. 231 Words.}