Everything
I remember when we were younger; fresh-faced and overeager, gummy smiles and winking at the cameras. The nervous twists and tumbles in my stomach, teeth clenched to keep from throwing up with fear, the way you’d sometimes look over and notice. I remember those hands on the small of my back, what fans thought was fanservice and what was really the anchor that kept me rooted to the interview, the performance, whatever it was we were doing.
There was fanservice, too, of course. I used to pretend to hate it, because the fans loved it and you seemed to, too. But I never minded. The embarrassing kissy faces, the hand holding, the never-ending cry of ‘maknae’ whenever we were on-air. I would pull a face and ask you what your problem was, and you’d just grin back at me and shrug, because you didn’t care why. You just liked to be affectionate, and the fans liked it, too. And it reminded me that you were a person, not an Idol. It reminded me that I was a person, too. Despite the schedules and the scripts and the stern talking-tos, we were both people, people who liked to do things just because. I used to admire you a lot for it, how you’d learned so early on that to be your own person was better than being someone else’s. So you kept right up with the hugs and the declarations of love and I kept pretending, kept admiring and kept thinking that you were probably the greatest person I would ever meet in my life.
Someday, I want to be what you were to me, then. Not an Idol, but an idol. A person.
Everything.
omg so gri feels everywhere. prose yes. please don't shoot me.
There was fanservice, too, of course. I used to pretend to hate it, because the fans loved it and you seemed to, too. But I never minded. The embarrassing kissy faces, the hand holding, the never-ending cry of ‘maknae’ whenever we were on-air. I would pull a face and ask you what your problem was, and you’d just grin back at me and shrug, because you didn’t care why. You just liked to be affectionate, and the fans liked it, too. And it reminded me that you were a person, not an Idol. It reminded me that I was a person, too. Despite the schedules and the scripts and the stern talking-tos, we were both people, people who liked to do things just because. I used to admire you a lot for it, how you’d learned so early on that to be your own person was better than being someone else’s. So you kept right up with the hugs and the declarations of love and I kept pretending, kept admiring and kept thinking that you were probably the greatest person I would ever meet in my life.
Someday, I want to be what you were to me, then. Not an Idol, but an idol. A person.
Everything.
omg so gri feels everywhere. prose yes. please don't shoot me.