“Father, I’m sorry.”

It isn’t audible, really just a thought. He imagines everything, the scene tomorrow morning when he tells his father where he’s going so early. It creates goosebumps on his skin but he isn’t scared, just hoping that he’ll see his father’s satisfied face to make sure that what he’s doing is right and that he’ll pat him on the back and tell him that everything is alright.

It’s the last day of their camping trip and he’s really tired, sitting on the backseat of his fathers car. He really is lucky to have tomorrow off because even with all of this he has his auditions tomorrow (which nobody knows of) and he really hopes he has the energy to dance and perform. He looks up, out from the window, and he sees so many stars and it really just makes him more comfortable. He wishes on all of them, but it’s the brightest that catches his eye.

“I wish that he understands, and that maybe this dream will come true.”

The drive is longer than he thought, but they finally arrive home and all he wants to do is lay down and engulf the comfort of his bed on such a chilly night.

As he walks up to his room, he thinks that maybe it’s what his father wanted for him and maybe that this is a good thing. He remembered that his father once said that having the dream of being a football player is tough and the obstacles that come with it are going to be hard to overcome, well with any dream that is.

The last thing he prays for before he closes his eyes is a good day tomorrow and his father’s satisfied smile.

~~

The light if the morning sun hit his tired eyes and the sound of his alarm clock invades his ears. All he does is remember one thing.

“It’s today. It’s now or never.”

He goes through his usual morning routine that involves cleaning up in the bathroom a change of clothes, getting his now fully charged ipod and boosting himself with confidence as he skips down the staircase.

“Hey dad, can I talk to you for a sec?”

Hopefully.

“Yeah sure, what is it?”

He will.

“I just wanted to tell you that, um-I’m auditioning.”

Understand.

“For what son?”

This is my ambition.

“For SM, to become a star.”

Because.

“Are you sure? Last time I checked you wanted to become a football player.”

This is.

“No I’m sure.”

My Dream.

“Then go for it! You know we’ll always support you no matter what your choices,” his father said with a beaming smile on his face.

Minho wanted to cry, but all he does is hug his father and shower him with “thank you’s” and “you’ll never regret it’s” because now his mission is to become the best.

His brother offers him a ride to the SM building, and it was a Monday so the streets were rather crowded as people hurry off to work.

He gets down as they arrive and he has had the same song on repeat for the whole drive, well he needed it because it was the one he was going to perform anyway.

The cold September wind hits his face and he tightens his cardigan around him more, because he really thought it would be warmer with the sun rising and all.

He grabs the door handle of the building’s doors and he feels all of a sudden the rush of nervousness bringing him back to the reality and the fact that he might not make it, because he’s not good enough.

But he thinks of his father, his dream and how he maybe is going to make it.

Because all he needs is his believing and just a tad of luck.

“Mirror, Mirror on the wall. Which of us is the fairest of them all?”