"You've been on my mind.."

"And I waste my time"

.

.

.

.

"'till you lift me off the floor and I'm me again"

Minho couldn't complain. His life was like living the dream— now its only to define what kind of dream. The dream, or a nightmare?

He'd say its something between those two. Bittersweet, he'd call it, as many things are in his life. He gets to do what he loved with all his heart. Performing in front of a crowd of thousands, letting his body do the talking. He felt free whenever he was on stage, even with the sweat soaking his clothes, even when he'd overdo it and got an injury. Dancing is his passion, with singing close behind it.

And god, he loved his members. He loved them so deeply he thought he would die for them— and Minho is sure they felt the same way. All the things they have overcome, all the things they have yet to do and see. Someday, it'll come to an end. But not today, and not tomorrow. So he tries not to think about it, living in the now with them.

Then there's the other side of being famous. While he doesn't get recognized as often as others, he faced other kinds of horrors. People felt entitled to their idols, believing it to be their right to know everything. Minho has had people wanting him to act how they percieve him. He's had people call him mean, rude, even a bully. One time, someone had followed him for three blocks and he had to admit to himself that this was not easy.

It hurt some of his relationships. With friends, for a time even with his family. He kept looking for good things, because in his mind it made no sense to only see the bad.

But lately it was harder.

His love life had always consisted of one person. One person he's met one rainy night whilst walking home after he had been eleminated from the survival show. He remembered an unbrella, a bus station and caramel bonbons. He looked back fondly, remembering the exchange of numbers and a date he'd orchastrated when he came back to the survival show, when he'd gotten another chance.

It had been so sweet. It still was, with a tang of sourness. Because it never held on, it never lasted. No matter how many times they broke up and got back together, they still pushed each other away, and yet they clung to each other as though they are fading to stardust.

Lee Minho hated love as much as he loved it.

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