Title: Don't Do Weakness (Part 1 of 3)
Fandom: Girls' Generation
Characters: Hyoyeon
Genre: Reflective
Rating: PG
Word Count: 818
Summary: Hyoyeon doesn't do weakness.
Dedication: For Alex.
Hyoyeon doesn't do weakness.
It's not that she doesn't feel weakness sometimes. She does. Weakness of all kinds. Like when she's been dancing for hours on end until sometimes her feet begin to bleed, or when she's been singing for so long she can taste the rawness in her throat, or when the producer forgets to assign her a line in their new single. Of course she feels weak sometimes. Hyoyeon is only human after all.
But every time, for some inexplicable reason, she always finds herself getting back up from where she'd collapsed on the floor, alone in the dance studio, promising her body that she was going to push it this one last time. And every vocal lesson she swallows down the pain and some scalding hot water before going over the vocal passage one more time to make sure it's absolutely perfect. And every time the producer makes that mistake she politely clears her throat and gently reminds him, smiling just a little sadly as he trips over himself to apologize.
Because sure, Hyoyeon is only human, but she's a human who lives to perform. Hyoyeon is devoted to her craft, and after all those years of heartbreak and disappointment, she'll be damned if she's going to ruin the best thing she's got going right now simply because she's can't be as selfless as she should be.
She never shows her sadness at never being acknowledged by the camera at performances. She never shows anything but happiness when she's on stage, and if she can't perform to the audience at home she'll damn well perform to the fans who are screaming for them. And she'd never, ever complain about the fact that she has absolutely no solo activities when So Nyuh Shi Dae is not promoting.
Hyoyeon doesn't need to show herself off, Hyoyeon doesn't need to prove herself to anyone. All Hyoyeon needs is her dancing and her girls and she'll be just fine. She doesn't need the approval of anyone else other than the approval of the girls she holds almost too close and too dear to her heart.
At least that's what she tells herself.
She can't help it, but sometimes, just sometimes she wishes she was more than just Hyoyeon, the dancer. She wishes she had more time at the front of the formation, more time to break it down on stage, more time to prove her singing abilities. Hyoyeon tells herself that she's just as talented as the other girls, just as worthy of all the attention and just as deserving of all those awards. (She won't delude herself into thinking she's just as pretty as the other girls, she knows she's not nearly as beautiful as Tiffany, or Jessica, or Taeyeon, or Sooyoung.)
But there are moments when all of it just stabs her in the gut, the force of all those times when she's overlooked at interviews or ignored by the camera twisting the knife deep into her, drawing a silent whimper. Just once, once, she wanted just a taste of what it was like to be Yoona, the beloved spokes girl and face of So Nyuh Shi Dae, or the nationally adored kid leader Taeyeon, or Yuri who was lusted after by a nation of men. Hyoyeon wanted to know what it felt like to be loved that much by thousands of people who believed you could do no wrong.
And there are moments when she's sitting alone in the living room of the dorm after waving goodbye to the other members as they file off to their individual schedules aimlessly flipping through channels on the television. Those moments were always the worst. She could be watching anything, absolutely anything at all, and precisely ten minutes after the silence has invaded every nook and cranny of the room Hyoyeon will feel tears drip down her cheeks. She always dashes them away angrily, scolding herself for feeling that boiling envy about her sisters' solo success, but it always happens.
It means so much to her, to have that unconditional familial love between her and the other girls. It keeps her buoyed, reminds her of why she's doing all of this in the first place. She's doing this because if she didn't, the lack of those eight other people in her life would slowly kill her. And she would do anything to keep all of them with her, so if it meant being the forgotten one she would just have to deal with all the pain and disappointment.
She needed to remain strong, because she knew if she let the weight of all of the times an interviewer forgot her name land on her shoulders and take it so closely to heart, it would suffocate her. She needed to remain strong because she knew if she didn't, she'd want to die.
Hyoyeon doesn't do weakness. And she never will.