*
[MinJae]
There were a lot of things that MinJae felt insecure about.
Dancing was about clean lines, fluid strength and beautiful bodies. Long limbs and lanky muscular bodies were desirable then. But even without those things, one could still dance beautifully. MinJae always believed that dance never discriminated, it accepted anyone who worked hard.
Being an idol was a different story. No longer just about pretty limbs, it was about every little thing that shouldn't matter but did.
Like the little protrusion of his belly after a meal, the flabby layer of skin that covered his ribs...the extra layers of fat at the bottom of his chin...the swell of his cheeks when he smiled...the chaffing of his thighs when he walked...the folds of skin in his back when he bent backwards...
The shape of his body on camera.
Being an idol was about becoming dangerously unhealthy.
And yet the media praised him for his achievements in weight. He was suddenly a role model to look up to for his weight loss, suddenly deemed 'prettier', 'hotter', and 'sexier'. Sure, some fans would comment on their worries for his health. But he was pretty sure they would lash out at him the minute he gained back the weight he had lost.
Being an idol was about slowly killing himself to look perfect for the camera.
He liked to think about how foie gras was made whenever he was on a diet. He would think about how the birds were force-fed twice a day. Think about the video where the farmers forced tubes down their throats. And how they held the birds in place, gloved fingers clamping over beaks as they pumped mashed feed into their bodies to fatten livers that would eventually fail.
He would think about which one was worse: starving, or being forced to eat until he died. Starving always seemed to be the better option of the two for MinJae.
It helped that MinJae was insecure about his body.
It came with the profession. In dance, he was insecure about his lines, about how he looked on camera, about the twists and turns of his body. When he became a member of IDOL, it was so much more than just that. He was insecure about every little part of his goddamn body, from the look of his bare feet on camera to the hair on his head.
Sometimes, when he was nursing his bottle of water, there was this horrible, horrible feeling of nausea swirling in his belly from his latest diet of fruits and water.
He started to daydream about better days.
"I'm sorry, sir. Your soulmate has passed."
MinJae blinked, staring blankly at the doctor before him. The doctor was quiet, watching him with those sad eyes. He was balding, peppered grey hair peeking out from his roots. He sat in his seat, just watching him, waiting for his reaction.
But, MinJae didn't know how to react.
"What?" He gasped, the question escaping his lips on instinct.
MinJae had already sacrificed so much for his looks, so the girl of his dreams was he was not. He dreamt of someone who loved her body, embracing it for what it was. Someone who ate healthily, at least healthy enough to keep herself alive with him until they were both old and grey. Someone who laughed a lot.
MinJae liked laughter and smiles. Big wide smiles that would make him smile too. He would like that.
"I'm...I'm sorry for your loss."
"I-I don't understand?"
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" Sieon snapped, stepping forward. "YOU CAN'T JUST DROP A FUCKING BOMB LIKE THAT!"
His best friend was angry, so, so angry. MinJae could barely feel Ezra's hand rubbing his shoulders in calming circles. His five other best friends stood in the room, silent and strangely quiet. But MinJae knew that each one of them was angry at the words of the doctor.
Unlike them, MinJae didn't feel anything.
MinJae's parents were childhood sweethearts. They were in love from the start and they never stopped loving each other. It was natural that MinJae longed for such a love himself. He wanted to write love letters to his one just as how his father used to write letters to his mother in high school.
MinJae knew what he would write, but he would not start penning it down until he met her. It was okay if he had to wait. He didn't mind waiting. MinJae knew that good things only came if one was patient. It was how the world worked.
MinJae did not know what to feel.
"You said you received Flower Crowns of the Soul without touching anyone." The doctor was purposely speaking slowly, carefully enunciating his words and clinically delivering the news. "Your flowers are wilting instead of simply disappearing and you feel pain in your chest. Am I right?" There was a tinge of pity in his expression and for a second MinJae pitied him too.
Because the doctor looked so sad.
"Y-yes." MinJae whispered.
His voice was small, and it reminded him of the time when he was younger. When he'd done something wrong and the teacher had scolded him. He had stood at the corner of the class crying softly to himself. Only this time, he'd done nothing wrong.
"Wilting flowers would mean a loss of the bond, the pain could be the result of such a loss." The doctor tapped his pen on his clipboard, rifling through the papers that determined MinJae's fate. "If you didn't touch anyone when the flowers bloomed, then the reason why you received the Flower Crown would probably mean that your soul bond was reacting at the very last moment."
"Last moment of what?" MinJae's voice was breaking.
"Her passing."
No words escaped MinJae's mouth, even when he opened it.
He didn't have to wait now. MinJae realised. There was no one to wait for. An odd sensation crawled across his chest, settling in his heart. It was a weird feeling that he didn't understand and in normal circumstances, he would have laughed to get it out of his system. But he couldn't do it now.
He curled on his bed, fisting at the sheets as he sighed. He stared at the light that emitted from the doorway. His best friends were talking softly in low voices. It would have been soothing if he didn't know the contents of their conversation. MinJae slowly, robotically, plucked a stalk from his head, bringing it closer to his face.
It was still beautiful.
MinJae cracked a broken smile as he stared at the flower with trembling fingers. The flowers were cracking at the edges, golden streaks running through the petals. The gold dripped from the edges of each petal, disappearing the instant it touched his skin.
It was beautiful. But just like the setting sun, it was ephemeral and fleeting. Warmth dripped from the corners of MinJae's eyes and he whimpered as a jolt of pain thrummed from deep within his chest.
It reminded him of the pain he had experienced when his pet dog, Mocha, had died in his arms. It reminded him of the pain in his chest when he had seen his beautiful grandmother and grandfather in their caskets. Soulmates who died at the same time were considered the luckiest of soulmates.
Soulmate.
His poor, poor soulmate.
He was whimpering, soft, little, dry sobs that he muffled in his pillow, but he was unable to tear his eyes away from the flower sitting in his palm. He couldn't even distinguish whether or not he was crying or if he was having a seizure. Each sob was a nauseous gasp for air and tears dripped from his eyes like a leaking faucet.
He didn't want to be alone.
The thought sent a fresh bout of pain and sadness through his chest, and he watched transfixed as the beautiful flower in his palms glowed. The cracks were spreading across the entire petal. Outside, Ezra was raising his voice arguing with Sieon. Casper was yelling at them to stop.
No.
MinJae watched as the petals burst apart, splintering into a thousand specks of gold.
No.
A scream ripped from his throat and the most unbearable pain surged through his heart, breaking it cleanly into two.
MinJae was now alone.