The Lessons We Learned
Title: The Lessons We Learned
Pairing: Zhoumi-centric
Genre: Slice-of-Life/Angst
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Even in my dreams, they own me.
Summary: There were just some lessons in life that we would always relearned no matter how many times we think that we have already mastered it.
Life is nothing if not a never-ending road of lessons. Each lesson learned and tucked away in Zhou Mi's mind.
Sometimes, they were left sitting in neglect because they were unimportant. Just like the time when he was five and all that mattered was just lying on the ground and counting the number of sheep-like clouds floating passed in the vast blue sky instead of going home like he was suppose to after picking up his father's weekly magazines from the post office. After all, the relaxed fantasy-like atmosphere had far outweighed the yelling that he had received from his parents later on when they found him. Or any of the times after that. Fantasy was a far lovelier place to be in obviously.
Sometimes, these lessons would popped up occasionally when he had time to let his mind wander, ones that would always bring a fond smile to his lips. Like the time when he was nine and there was a new kid at his primary school. The poor boy had looked so lonely and lost in the school that Mi had taken pity on him and decided to show him around the school, pointing out his favourite spots and teachers as they walked through school before leading the boy to his secret spot, where he offered to share his favourite dumplings that his mum had made specially that morning. The smile he had received remained to be one of the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. Simply pure and innocent. His mother was right. Sharing is always caring.
Then there were those lessons that were forever embedded in your mind, the ones that you instinctively knew how to react whenever it had happened again in the future; similarly to those of muscle memories, if grey matter was considered a muscle. Much like the time when he was fourteen and started to learn the importance of looking your best. After months of pouring over fashion magazines and observing the fashion gurus diligently, he had learned what looked good on him and what didn't. What sort of colour complemented his skin tone. What were classic designs that your wardrobe should never do without. He learned to recognize what could be considered trendy but without falling out of fashion when the trend ended and moved on. How to recreate fashion out of the simplest things when money was tight. Nowadays, it was simply pure instinct the way he shopped and dressed himself. Without much thought and yet still looking fabulous.
Some lessons brought along a sense of gratefulness whenever he thought about them. Like the time when he was sixteen and he received his parents' blessings and entered in a singing contest in Beijing even though he knew it was hard for his parents to let their only son, their only child, ventured out to the big city all on his own, worried about how the cut throat industry would have done to his fragile sixteen years old self-esteem. But he had won that very first competition and had moved on to win several more. He had even managed to dip his toes into the hosting field before his friend had entered a clip of him singing his favourite Korean song for an audition without his knowledge. When he had received an offer to be part of a life-changing experience, he had packed his bags, heart filled with anticipation wrapped by a sense of confidence, and flew to South Korea, a country he had always dreamed of travelling to one day. Till this day, he'd never forget the teary-eyes shining with pure confidence of his abilities. Family and friends will always be there, cheering you on, giving you that extra boost of confidence even when you doubted yourself.
Some lessons were unforgettable, ones that you needed to experience rather than listen to someone else regale the tale. At twenty-one and lost in the tall stark gray buildings and strange harsh tilting sounds, the initial feeling of being able to take on the big bad world had disappeared and made him feel like curling into himself and just trying to remember what it was like in the warm safety of his home. Even when he had to take the lonely passage to Beijing, he was still cradled within the safe arms of his homeland. Capital city or not, the presence of the familiar mother tongue had still comforted him. All it took was an accident and a tentative introduction before being enveloped by unconditional acceptance by the one man who should have hated the world at the moment. Christened with a new nickname in the first five minutes of their introduction, Mi had decided that even if he will not be part of Super Junior, he would always make time for the deceptively fragile man surrounded by the beeping machines. Heechul had shown him that being from different cultural backgrounds did not equate to stilted conversations and ignorant remarks; that it was possible to form long-lasting friendship through open-mindedness and acceptance. That and Heechul would not have accepted anything less from him.
Acceptance.
It was a lesson that he found himself being tested on time and time again. Life was a strict teacher. Sometimes, it insisted on reinforcing certain lessons; each time coupled with more 'the moral of the story is'. There were some that could have been brushed off; there were some that refused to be ignored and insisted on being the front of his mind despite how suffocating it was for him.
Like the time when he was twenty two and had stepped on to his first stage filled to the brim with anxiety and stress. He remembered the day when the company had told him that he was going to debut as part of Super Junior M. The last sub-unit that the company was going to debut. Shocked that he was actually going to be in a cousin group to Heechul's main family, it had momentarily inflated him with bubbles of happiness, before the sharp arrows of reality had sunk it and popped the balloon. Mi still could recall clearly what had happened to Henry when he made a guest appearance in Super Junior's music video. Even as a guest appearance, the backlash was still tremendous. He knew even as he said yes, that the same backlash would only served to intensify. But he had crossed his fingers and hoped that being in Beijing, back to his home, his people would be more welcoming as compared to the rest of the fans.
Life was a harsh teacher. And for the first time, he truly understood what the word 'betrayal' really meant. There must always be a balance in this world. For every acceptance, there would be rejection. He knew that. It was what he was taught when he was a child. Yin and Yang. But that didn't make the rejection any easier to accept. By his own people no less. It was betrayal at its best; sinking its claws and spreading its poisons slowly, as he spent day after day, almost desperately praying that he was just like the other members, unable to understand a single word of his own mother tongue. He had never envied the ability to space out more than he ever did then. The downsides of knowing one too many languages.
Deep down, he knew they weren't stupid. Even an idiot would have been able to recognize what all those jeers and fingers and sneers meant. Perhaps that was what made him even more grateful when the members offered their own forms of reassurance; a reminder that when the world turned against you, your family doesn't. It showed in the little things that the members did; leaving his favourite snacks around, letting him cling onto them, rambling about the most nonsensical things when they were stuck in the apartment because of the hordes of overzealous fans.
Life might be a abrasive teacher, but it served its purpose in reminding him how important acceptance was. Without their support, even in his most boisterous moment, he would have been crushed under such animosity. The irony wasn't lost on him as he flew back to Seoul with the rest of his family, relief written clearly over his face and heart; back to the open arms of Heechul and the friends he had made throughout his short stint in Seoul.
Another year. Another him. At twenty-three, armed with better grasp of the Korean language and more experience, he was ready to take on whatever test that life had decided to give him. It was just his luck that the lesson had repeated itself. In the beginning, it was still easy to ignore. The number had seemed to decrease and he had Kyuhyun to remind him that Taiwan loved him. That somewhere out there, he wasn't completely rejected by people who spoke the same native tongue as he did. It wasn't until a concert in Shanghai brought all those self-depreciating memories and depression crashing down on him again. As if he had never left that past behind.
At that moment, he had truly understood the difference between deafening noise and loud silence. That one moment had shattered everything he had thought he fought for and proved, every single effort were all for naught. The oppressive silence buried him, the weight itself bruising him. If he squinted his eyes enough, he thought he could see them slowly forming on his pale skin. If betrayal by initial animosity had been bad, this feeling was a million times worse. A silent protest was enough to shatter any romantic delusions he might have once harboured for his homeland. Painted smiles and porcelain heart. It took a forceful Heechul, determined Kyuhyun and a very worried Hangeng to pull him out of the endless pit that he found himself lost in; drowning in the never-ending supply of alcohol that suddenly seemed quite friendly with those sleeping pills that the doctors had prescribed him. Perseverance did not always mean that people would accept and appreciate you even if they saw the amount of effort and energy you had invested.
In a strangely ironic way, he almost wanted to thank Geng for leaving the company. It meant China would received its prodigal child with open arms, promising a future of possibilities, success and a limitless supply of love and support. That also meant that if ever SJM would have to make a comeback, China was no longer a viable option and he no longer had to face the anonymous crowd of rejection. Inside, he berated himself for his selfishness, but couldn't deny the warm bubble of relief that threatened to overflow.
Acceptance.
Life was also a kind teacher. It showed him that despite the rough patch it had given him, there was also a bed of clouds and a blanket of sunshine to remind him of why it was all worth it.
At twenty-five, the worst of the storm had passed and the company was willing to place a bet on them once again. With the addition of Sungmin and Eunhyuk to his little tight knit extended family, he dusted himself off before putting on a bright smile as they moved forward with promotions. Taiwan was even better than he remembered it to be. Finally surrounded by friends who weren't part of the company; people who strongly believed in him and loved him. It gave him back that sense of security and missing chunk of confidence; the walls chipping away as the foundation shook and finally gave away. Gradually, he opened up more. He didn't have to analyze every word that left his lips, glib tongue slowly sharpening itself after years of disuse. He stood up, slightly taller, shoulders pushed back, smiles spreading naturally like the rays of the rising sun.
Life was an interesting teacher; the people merely its unwitting puppets.
It might have taken him a while to master its lessons, but it had taught him that everything happened for a reason; life marched on forwards regardless. It was how we decorated the road that counted.
A trail of sunshine marked his path.
----
A/N: This fic just sums up my view of the entire Only13 affair. Being rejected by your own country is a shocking experience to say the least. And before anyone berates me, I know what the feeling is like. Rejection is not a joke. Not especially when it's done by many without a shred of sympathy.
Pairing: Zhoumi-centric
Genre: Slice-of-Life/Angst
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Even in my dreams, they own me.
Summary: There were just some lessons in life that we would always relearned no matter how many times we think that we have already mastered it.
Life is nothing if not a never-ending road of lessons. Each lesson learned and tucked away in Zhou Mi's mind.
Sometimes, they were left sitting in neglect because they were unimportant. Just like the time when he was five and all that mattered was just lying on the ground and counting the number of sheep-like clouds floating passed in the vast blue sky instead of going home like he was suppose to after picking up his father's weekly magazines from the post office. After all, the relaxed fantasy-like atmosphere had far outweighed the yelling that he had received from his parents later on when they found him. Or any of the times after that. Fantasy was a far lovelier place to be in obviously.
Sometimes, these lessons would popped up occasionally when he had time to let his mind wander, ones that would always bring a fond smile to his lips. Like the time when he was nine and there was a new kid at his primary school. The poor boy had looked so lonely and lost in the school that Mi had taken pity on him and decided to show him around the school, pointing out his favourite spots and teachers as they walked through school before leading the boy to his secret spot, where he offered to share his favourite dumplings that his mum had made specially that morning. The smile he had received remained to be one of the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. Simply pure and innocent. His mother was right. Sharing is always caring.
Then there were those lessons that were forever embedded in your mind, the ones that you instinctively knew how to react whenever it had happened again in the future; similarly to those of muscle memories, if grey matter was considered a muscle. Much like the time when he was fourteen and started to learn the importance of looking your best. After months of pouring over fashion magazines and observing the fashion gurus diligently, he had learned what looked good on him and what didn't. What sort of colour complemented his skin tone. What were classic designs that your wardrobe should never do without. He learned to recognize what could be considered trendy but without falling out of fashion when the trend ended and moved on. How to recreate fashion out of the simplest things when money was tight. Nowadays, it was simply pure instinct the way he shopped and dressed himself. Without much thought and yet still looking fabulous.
Some lessons brought along a sense of gratefulness whenever he thought about them. Like the time when he was sixteen and he received his parents' blessings and entered in a singing contest in Beijing even though he knew it was hard for his parents to let their only son, their only child, ventured out to the big city all on his own, worried about how the cut throat industry would have done to his fragile sixteen years old self-esteem. But he had won that very first competition and had moved on to win several more. He had even managed to dip his toes into the hosting field before his friend had entered a clip of him singing his favourite Korean song for an audition without his knowledge. When he had received an offer to be part of a life-changing experience, he had packed his bags, heart filled with anticipation wrapped by a sense of confidence, and flew to South Korea, a country he had always dreamed of travelling to one day. Till this day, he'd never forget the teary-eyes shining with pure confidence of his abilities. Family and friends will always be there, cheering you on, giving you that extra boost of confidence even when you doubted yourself.
Some lessons were unforgettable, ones that you needed to experience rather than listen to someone else regale the tale. At twenty-one and lost in the tall stark gray buildings and strange harsh tilting sounds, the initial feeling of being able to take on the big bad world had disappeared and made him feel like curling into himself and just trying to remember what it was like in the warm safety of his home. Even when he had to take the lonely passage to Beijing, he was still cradled within the safe arms of his homeland. Capital city or not, the presence of the familiar mother tongue had still comforted him. All it took was an accident and a tentative introduction before being enveloped by unconditional acceptance by the one man who should have hated the world at the moment. Christened with a new nickname in the first five minutes of their introduction, Mi had decided that even if he will not be part of Super Junior, he would always make time for the deceptively fragile man surrounded by the beeping machines. Heechul had shown him that being from different cultural backgrounds did not equate to stilted conversations and ignorant remarks; that it was possible to form long-lasting friendship through open-mindedness and acceptance. That and Heechul would not have accepted anything less from him.
Acceptance.
It was a lesson that he found himself being tested on time and time again. Life was a strict teacher. Sometimes, it insisted on reinforcing certain lessons; each time coupled with more 'the moral of the story is'. There were some that could have been brushed off; there were some that refused to be ignored and insisted on being the front of his mind despite how suffocating it was for him.
Like the time when he was twenty two and had stepped on to his first stage filled to the brim with anxiety and stress. He remembered the day when the company had told him that he was going to debut as part of Super Junior M. The last sub-unit that the company was going to debut. Shocked that he was actually going to be in a cousin group to Heechul's main family, it had momentarily inflated him with bubbles of happiness, before the sharp arrows of reality had sunk it and popped the balloon. Mi still could recall clearly what had happened to Henry when he made a guest appearance in Super Junior's music video. Even as a guest appearance, the backlash was still tremendous. He knew even as he said yes, that the same backlash would only served to intensify. But he had crossed his fingers and hoped that being in Beijing, back to his home, his people would be more welcoming as compared to the rest of the fans.
Life was a harsh teacher. And for the first time, he truly understood what the word 'betrayal' really meant. There must always be a balance in this world. For every acceptance, there would be rejection. He knew that. It was what he was taught when he was a child. Yin and Yang. But that didn't make the rejection any easier to accept. By his own people no less. It was betrayal at its best; sinking its claws and spreading its poisons slowly, as he spent day after day, almost desperately praying that he was just like the other members, unable to understand a single word of his own mother tongue. He had never envied the ability to space out more than he ever did then. The downsides of knowing one too many languages.
Deep down, he knew they weren't stupid. Even an idiot would have been able to recognize what all those jeers and fingers and sneers meant. Perhaps that was what made him even more grateful when the members offered their own forms of reassurance; a reminder that when the world turned against you, your family doesn't. It showed in the little things that the members did; leaving his favourite snacks around, letting him cling onto them, rambling about the most nonsensical things when they were stuck in the apartment because of the hordes of overzealous fans.
Life might be a abrasive teacher, but it served its purpose in reminding him how important acceptance was. Without their support, even in his most boisterous moment, he would have been crushed under such animosity. The irony wasn't lost on him as he flew back to Seoul with the rest of his family, relief written clearly over his face and heart; back to the open arms of Heechul and the friends he had made throughout his short stint in Seoul.
Another year. Another him. At twenty-three, armed with better grasp of the Korean language and more experience, he was ready to take on whatever test that life had decided to give him. It was just his luck that the lesson had repeated itself. In the beginning, it was still easy to ignore. The number had seemed to decrease and he had Kyuhyun to remind him that Taiwan loved him. That somewhere out there, he wasn't completely rejected by people who spoke the same native tongue as he did. It wasn't until a concert in Shanghai brought all those self-depreciating memories and depression crashing down on him again. As if he had never left that past behind.
At that moment, he had truly understood the difference between deafening noise and loud silence. That one moment had shattered everything he had thought he fought for and proved, every single effort were all for naught. The oppressive silence buried him, the weight itself bruising him. If he squinted his eyes enough, he thought he could see them slowly forming on his pale skin. If betrayal by initial animosity had been bad, this feeling was a million times worse. A silent protest was enough to shatter any romantic delusions he might have once harboured for his homeland. Painted smiles and porcelain heart. It took a forceful Heechul, determined Kyuhyun and a very worried Hangeng to pull him out of the endless pit that he found himself lost in; drowning in the never-ending supply of alcohol that suddenly seemed quite friendly with those sleeping pills that the doctors had prescribed him. Perseverance did not always mean that people would accept and appreciate you even if they saw the amount of effort and energy you had invested.
In a strangely ironic way, he almost wanted to thank Geng for leaving the company. It meant China would received its prodigal child with open arms, promising a future of possibilities, success and a limitless supply of love and support. That also meant that if ever SJM would have to make a comeback, China was no longer a viable option and he no longer had to face the anonymous crowd of rejection. Inside, he berated himself for his selfishness, but couldn't deny the warm bubble of relief that threatened to overflow.
Acceptance.
Life was also a kind teacher. It showed him that despite the rough patch it had given him, there was also a bed of clouds and a blanket of sunshine to remind him of why it was all worth it.
At twenty-five, the worst of the storm had passed and the company was willing to place a bet on them once again. With the addition of Sungmin and Eunhyuk to his little tight knit extended family, he dusted himself off before putting on a bright smile as they moved forward with promotions. Taiwan was even better than he remembered it to be. Finally surrounded by friends who weren't part of the company; people who strongly believed in him and loved him. It gave him back that sense of security and missing chunk of confidence; the walls chipping away as the foundation shook and finally gave away. Gradually, he opened up more. He didn't have to analyze every word that left his lips, glib tongue slowly sharpening itself after years of disuse. He stood up, slightly taller, shoulders pushed back, smiles spreading naturally like the rays of the rising sun.
Life was an interesting teacher; the people merely its unwitting puppets.
It might have taken him a while to master its lessons, but it had taught him that everything happened for a reason; life marched on forwards regardless. It was how we decorated the road that counted.
A trail of sunshine marked his path.
----
A/N: This fic just sums up my view of the entire Only13 affair. Being rejected by your own country is a shocking experience to say the least. And before anyone berates me, I know what the feeling is like. Rejection is not a joke. Not especially when it's done by many without a shred of sympathy.