TaeJoon nudged me forward through the crowd of paparazzi. They follow us pretty much everywhere, sometimes it can get tiresome.
Having to be perfect every second of the day is exhausting. The moment you wake up a camera is shoved into your face. Throughout the day cameras follow you, they are like the all seeing eye of god.
But god can be critical.
Hats covered our faces along with face mask and glasses but none the less they still find us. I like to think they are blood thirsty sniffing hounds—but my manager says I shouldn't call them that...at least not in public that is.
"TaeJoon! TaeJoon!" I heard voices shout. The clicks increased and I gripped Dae-Hyun arm. He was like a...American footballer. Tall, sturdy, and a pro at clearing a path for us through the hounds.
Dae-hyun is so good at herding us through crowds that sometimes he gets mistaken for our body guard. I think it's funny but he just glares at me when I mention it.
"TAEJOON!" A voice screamed.
Fans. They—although I adore them—can be suffocating too. They appear everywhere and anywhere. I love them, how could I not?
They made me who I am, I owe them my life. However, some fans don't seem to get the concept that we are humans. Not gods.
Words hurt. Pictures hurt.
Everything hurts.
Being perfect 24/7 hurts.
"TAEJOON! TAE JOON I LOVE YOU!" The voice was strangely not in korean. It was in Japanese which caused Dae-Hyun to pop up. His eyes narrowed on the fan or fans who were screaming for TaeJoon hysterically.
TaeJoon, the visual of the group, paid them no mind. He was used to it after all. Unlike the rest of us, TaeJoon is a child prodigy. He began his rise to stardom at the age of 3 and has been in the limelight ever since.
The cameras, 24/7 perfection, smiles, and screaming fans was nothing new to him.
He was what we call a seasoned veteran. Dae-Hyun is one too.
I was too busy watching the back of Hueing-Ki head that I didn't realize we had stopped. Due to this error, I collided with Hueing-Ki back. Which wasn't bad, but of course I lost my balance (thank you untied shoelace) and fell, bringing body guard Dae-Hyun with me.
My butt hit the ground with a hard thud but nothing compared to the loud grunt Dae-Hyun let out as he hit the ground too.
The moment I collided with Hueing-Ki back the camera clicks intensified and the yells of concern came flying out. It was so loud.
I never realized you could hate one sound so much.
I felt hands grab me and before I could process what happened I was thrust up and into a car. The door slammed shut, then the trunk, then the drivers spot. A tissue was thrust into my face and more hands were on me.
I pushed down the urge to shove the hands off. There were hands on my shirt, hands on my back, hands on my face—hands everywhere.
It took me a moment to realize I was alone. It was just some staff members and I.
Why was I alone?
Where were the others? Was I really that embarrassing that the others couldn't be with me?
I touched the napkin on my face and frowned. Since when did my nose start bleeding?
I watched the staff to my left talk rapid Korean into a phone. He was talking so face even I couldn't process what he was saying. The staff member to my right was blotting my face in an attempt to make my struggle look less...like a struggle and more like a whoopsie.
The tissue was removed from my nose and more hands were on me. The person on the left was no longer on the phone but now fixing my hair. The person to my right was viciously wiping away the blood on my face and replacing it with makeup.
I had to be perfect. Perfection, I realized was a drug.
It makes you feel things while also taking away emotions. If crushes your hopes. Your body becomes depends on being perfect.
That when your not perfect your left strung out and confused. Almost like a zombie.
You crave perfection, but perfection isn't always perfect.