“Kid, get your eyelids done, and then we’ll finalize your new contract.”

Lee Hyukjae shrank in his seat before turning to look at his mother. “My son is an extraordinary dancer; he doesn’t need any plastic surgery to succeed in this business,”she said.

The talent manager rolled his eyes, exasperated, “I am not disputing that your son is very talented. Without a doubt, Hyukjae is one of the best dancers in the company, but he has a weak voice and a typical Korean face.”

“What is wrong with having typical Korean features?” she asked indignantly.

“It’s not what fans want, Mrs. Lee. Korean idols have to be talented and good-looking,” he spoke frankly as he gazed at the twenty-one-year-old boy whose head was now bowed down. “Hyukjae, you know I am very fond of you, don’t lose this opportunity over a minor surgical procedure. Heck, even white-collar workers have their eyes done during lunch breaks. You’ll be in and out of the doctor’s office in at most 30 minutes.”

”So you’re saying I’m ugly?” Hyukjae asked softly.

The manager cunningly steered away from the sensitive question. “When you auditioned for the company, didn’t you promise you’ll do anything to become an idol?” he reminded.

Hyukjae nodded, wishing this meeting would end soon.

“Sir, my son has already agreed to use his stage name ‘Eunhyuk’, and now this…it seems as though you are trying to make him into somebody else,” his mother interjected, concern evident in her eyes.

“I want him to show the best side of himself, Mrs. Lee.” He pointed to a tall all pile of applications on his desk. “Any of these applicants will willingly go under the knife in a heartbeat for the chance to become a star.”

“Is this some sort of ultimatum?” Mrs. Lee asked, her voice having risen an octave higher as she controlled her anger.

“I’m simply stating a fact. Super Junior recently debuted and there’s still a very good chance that members will be shuffled around depending on the public’s reaction. I don’t want to your son to be cut out from the group, so don’t give the company that option.”

***

 “I can’t see the words clearly!” Kyuhyun whined. “Why did I agree to this operation?”

“Because your parents caved in,” Hyukjae muttered.

“Don’t bite my head off, hyung. We are---were--- on the same boat,” Kyuhyun said as he touched his puffy eyelids. The bruising around his eyes was now a dark purple color. “Ow, I need more pain killers.”

The two Super Junior members were in Hyukjae’s dorm room, reading comics to pass the afternoon away. Kyuhyun was recovering from his eyelid surgery while Hyukjae didn’t have anything better to do.

“Are you excited about your official debut?” Hyukjae asked, flipping another page of his manga.

“I’m more nervous than excited. I don’t want to mess up.”

“If you keep thinking like that, you’ll put unnecessary pressure on yourself,” Hyukjae advised, “You have a natural gift for singing and you practice hard with your voice coaches; you will be great on that stage. “

“I’m worried about the dancing, hyung. I’m not exactly coordinated.”

“Oh. If you want to run through the choreography, I’m always up for it.”

“Really? That would be awesome!” Kyuhyun gave his trademark lopsided grin and began to stand up. “Can we go to the practice room now?”

Hyukjae chuckled as he got on his feet. Grabbing a pair of sunglasses from his bedside table, he tossed it over to Kyuhyun. “Wear ‘em, I don’t want people to think I gave you two black eyes.”

Kyuhyun grinned wider, slinging an arm over Hyukjae’s shoulder. “It’s a small price to pay, I suppose. Once I’m completely healed, I’ll be giving Siwon a run for his money.”

***

After a few days

When the swelling subsided, Kyuhyun’s face did dramatically change. Management was ecstatic at the ‘improved’ Kyuhyun.

“Kyuhyun is looking more like a celebrity these days,” the stylist noona putting the finishing touches on Hyukjae’s hair commented, “You’re probably next to have surgery, right?”

Hyukjae merely gritted his teeth and offered a tight smiled. There was a million things running through his head.

***

Donghae was running. He looked at his watch, he will make it. He has to make it. Reaching Seoul’s so-called Beauty Quarter in Gangnam, an area where cosmetic   clinics sat side by side, Donghae zigzagged his way through the congested streets until he found the clinic where Hyukjae was scheduled for his surgery.

***

“Babo, why didn’t you tell me?”

Hyukjae rubbed his head where Donghae had smacked him.

They were seated in the busy lobby of the plastic surgery center waiting for Hyukjae’s name to be called.

Most of the clients were young women, with a few men interjected far and and between. Donghae watched as a woman whose face was completely wrapped in bandages walked passed him. She’s like a mummy.

“If you’re here to bug me, you might as well leave,” Hyukjae said, “I’m anxious as it is.”

“Why are you doing this?” Donghae asked.

Hyukjae sighed. “You wouldn’t understand my reasons. You’re naturally good-looking.”

“So you want to be handsome like me?”

Hyukjae cringed. “Looks matter in our society. Better work and personal opportunities come with a pretty face.”

 “Huh. Interesting,” Donghae pondered on his friend’s answer for a few seconds.

“Whatever you’re thinking, spill it now.” Hyukjae was getting irate.

Donghae chewed on his bottom lip. “It’s marketing, Hyukjae. Look around you, the walls here are littered with sad before pictures next to smiling after pictures.” He pointed to the receptionist behind the front desk. “Is she beautiful?”

“Yeah, she is.”

“Do you think she’s happy?”

“How should I know that? I just saw her now,” Hyukjae said in exasperation.

“Didn’t you just tell me that having a pretty face means a better life?”

I did say that, Hyukjae thought.

“We’ve been friends for years; do you honestly think I have an easier life than yours?” Donghae asked.

“No.” In fact, Donghae probably worked much harder than anyone else in the group.  During the times when Hyukjae felt like he was about to keel over from practicing, it was Donghae who encouraged him to keep on going.

“In our dance routines, the choreographer usually puts me or Siwon up front during the first few seconds of the songs for ‘visual’ purposes. I’m not going to deny it, having a nice face will catch people’s attention, but for how long? It’s guys like you who have the innate talent for dancing or singing that keeps viewers wanting more.”  

“Donghae,” Hyukjae began, “give yourself more credit. You’re a great dancer.”

“ Because I constantly work at it. Dance steps that take you fifteen minutes to learn, it takes me at least twice as much time.” Donghae smiled and gently cradled his friend’s cheek. “Take your own advice, Hyukjae: give yourself more credit too. Although management has practically drilled it in our heads the importance of being good-looking in this industry, it’s not the all encompassing truth.”

Donghae jabbed a finger directly where Hyukjae’s heart is. “You have the passion for dance and the drive to entertain people. These should be your top priorities and where your confidence should stem from.”

“Lee Hyukjae, the doctor is ready to see you now,” one of the staff politely informed.

***

Thirty minutes later

 “Hyukjae! Don’t lean too far or you’ll fall down the tracks.”

Hyukjae laughed as Donghae pulled him closer. They were on the train station, ready to go back to the dorms.

“Weee! I am so drugged up.”

“No sh!t,” Donghae grunted as he supported most of Hyukjae’s weight.

The talk they had in the lobby wasn’t enough to deter Hyukjae from seeing the doctor.

“I only gave you some sedatives and some local anesthetics to numb your eyelids,” the doctor had said.

When Hyukjae felt the pressure of the scalpel blade make contact with his skin, he freaked out. “NOOOOO!!!! I wanna keep my monolids!” He jumped up, knocked all the instruments from the mayo stand and ran off.

“Hae, can I tell you something?” Hyukjae whispered mischievously.

“Sure.” Donghae had been hearing a lot of random nonsense from Hyukjae since they got out of the clinic.

“You’re my best friend in the entire world.”

Donghae was touched.

“Also, I can’t feel my eyeballs.”

ﾟ･✿ヾ╲(｡◕‿◕｡)╱✿･ﾟﾟ･✿ヾ╲(｡◕‿◕｡)╱✿･ﾟ