A black tear on a mask...
Title: A black tear on a mask...
Author: xoxo_nat_xx
Pairing: Donghae centric
Ratings: PG
Genre: Angst
Summary: Being artistes, everything has to be hidden, closed to the world, and swallowed, deep down, so it remains in there. When did they change?
Donghae stares out of his window, listening to the soothing and calming music that is playing softly from his earplugs. He lifts one palm that is hanging by his side, and drapes it on the window still, caressing the metal frame gently. The night sky is beautiful, and he knows a lot of people out there will be enjoying the amazing night scene tonight. He focuses on a streetlight in the middle of nowhere, but he just, just cannot find purchase on anything; no matter how hard he tries, his eyes keep on slipping up before him, and in an instant, everything turns blurry and hazy.
Surprise grabs him suddenly; he grins at his own foolishness. The smile quickly turns into a wry one, to one where he is trying so hard to just keep it on his face, just to keep those corners of his mouth up. A sob escapes his mouth, and he bites down hard on his lips. He feels his teeth cutting into his lower lip; and only a random part of his brain registers the pain it brings to him. Donghae realizes he is no longer breathing in, and quickly inhales deeply. The air rushes into his lungs, and it seems to sting every single part of him; setting some part of him on fire, internally.
Donghae winces and takes a step back. He sinks down onto his knees on the floor and leans against the cupboard right beside the window. He shuts his eyes so tightly he feels the strain, he shuts them so tightly he feels the tears being squeezed out, and he is very sure that they were not there a moment ago. He presses his head into the wood behind him, hard, because he wants to know, he wants to reaffirm that he is still very much living.
Yeah, I indeed am. I can't die and still feel so much pain.
Holding it in for too long, it lashes out at him now, it cries out like a beast that has been trapped for too long in a confined area, it threatens to burst out of him, rip him apart and leave him lying there, lifeless, and dead. Emotions can be really aggressive, he realizes belatedly. The overwhelming sadness he is facing drives his mind into an over whirl. It berates him for shutting it in since that very morning; it blames him for depriving it of its release since that very morning; it beats him down, hard, for not expressing it outright, on his face.
Donghae gasps for air, gulping down several deep breaths at a go. Displaying nothing, it is something he has became very, very well-acquainted with when he started out in this show business career. Plastering a blank expression on his face, this is something he learnt how to master from the very beginning. Being a great actor, hiding everything deep down within him, he already knows, it is part of his job description since the birth of his career as a singer.
Looking down to hide the pain that he knows is evident in his eyes for that very short second, he looks up again, and that fleeting, momentary moment of throbbing that is threatening to jump out of him is swallowed back down, into the pits of his stomach, where it is hidden, and no one sees it, ever. He smiles, and it's a convincing one, he thinks to himself, as he spots his reflection in the lens of the camera that is right in front of him. He raises a hand to wave at the fans, and he strikes a victory pose, grinning as the fans smile and wave back. He detects the melancholy in their smiles, but he pretends not to see it.
He shifts his gaze slightly to the side, and he sees Eunhyuk staring right back at him. A little jolted, he stares back, and Eunhyuk drops his gaze immediately to the ground. Eunhyuk lets out an awkward laugh, his gaze still trained on a certain spot on the floor. Hurt consumes Donghae for a second, because he knows what Eunhyuk is thinking just now, he sees it all, and it wrenches his heart.
When did we change?
Why did we all change?
To hide it all? To transform to someone else? That I, myself, or my best friend, don't recognize me anymore?
Donghae raises weakly, his legs sending warning signals to his brain, telling him that they may fold anytime, anytime at all, and send him tumbling to the ground, crawling at it like a helpless child, crying and pathetic. Feeble, he silently scolds himself, as he finally limps over to the mirror and grips the dressing table tightly.
He raises a hand to touch his reflection in the mirror. This mask, doesn't fit him anymore. It blinds him, so much that he doesn't know where he is at; it shuts the world from him, so much that he doesn't know what to feel for it anymore, so much that he doesn't recall how the grass can actually feel beneath his feet, so much that he forgets how a simple morning breeze can ruffle his hair and shake all his troubles away from him. This mask hides him too much, so much, that he doesn't who is the true person behind all this face anymore.
Donghae grins painfully at the other person in the mirror, who is grimacing back at him. No more, he thinks to himself, no more. He raises his fist and punches it straight at the other in the mirror, repeating the action over and over again. He sees the mirror crack, he sees the fragments fall onto the table, he sees shards jutting out of the mirror, but somehow, he just doesn't feel it cutting right into his hand, his fingers, his palm, his heart.
"Am I suffering from some lag response syndrome?" Donghae questions himself. He raises his eyebrows at the bloodied hand that is resting on the surface of the broken mirror. The blood from his injured hand is dripping down, pat pat pat, he takes the sound in, and absorbing every single impression he still can take in, now. The blood graces the mirror, draping over it as if it is a red curtain, and Donghae laughs at the absurdity of all this, of all of this.
What the hell, he laughs quietly to himself. Another chuckle escapes his mouth, and another soon follows. He cannot stop laughing, it racks through him, it sends trembles throughout his body, and he feels himself shaking so hard that he has to sink into a nearby chair so he will not collapse on to the floor. He laughs so hard, that he feels tears soon streaming down his face, and he laughs, or cries, even harder. He laughs at his life, he laughs at his plight, he laughs at his own pathetic self. Now, he doesn't know anymore, if the tears that are rolling down his face are tears of joy, or tears of sadness.
So this is how it feels, to be heartbroken, he thinks to himself.
So this is how it feels, to think you discover yourself finally, at the very end of this journey, just to find yourself being self-deluded, and being a very happy fool at that as well, he smiles to himself.
So this is how it feels, to dig into yourself and find so much pain within.
So this is how it feels, when someone close to you is hurt, and you share his pain, but you cannot show it. So this is how it feels, when someone close to you is crying, and you stand in the corner watching, not exactly wrapping your arms around him, but bearing the whole brunt of it at the same time.
So this is how it feels, in the very end, he cries to himself.
No more, no more, he shuts his eyes, and rests his forehead on the table in front of him. No more.
Author: xoxo_nat_xx
Pairing: Donghae centric
Ratings: PG
Genre: Angst
Summary: Being artistes, everything has to be hidden, closed to the world, and swallowed, deep down, so it remains in there. When did they change?
Donghae stares out of his window, listening to the soothing and calming music that is playing softly from his earplugs. He lifts one palm that is hanging by his side, and drapes it on the window still, caressing the metal frame gently. The night sky is beautiful, and he knows a lot of people out there will be enjoying the amazing night scene tonight. He focuses on a streetlight in the middle of nowhere, but he just, just cannot find purchase on anything; no matter how hard he tries, his eyes keep on slipping up before him, and in an instant, everything turns blurry and hazy.
Surprise grabs him suddenly; he grins at his own foolishness. The smile quickly turns into a wry one, to one where he is trying so hard to just keep it on his face, just to keep those corners of his mouth up. A sob escapes his mouth, and he bites down hard on his lips. He feels his teeth cutting into his lower lip; and only a random part of his brain registers the pain it brings to him. Donghae realizes he is no longer breathing in, and quickly inhales deeply. The air rushes into his lungs, and it seems to sting every single part of him; setting some part of him on fire, internally.
Donghae winces and takes a step back. He sinks down onto his knees on the floor and leans against the cupboard right beside the window. He shuts his eyes so tightly he feels the strain, he shuts them so tightly he feels the tears being squeezed out, and he is very sure that they were not there a moment ago. He presses his head into the wood behind him, hard, because he wants to know, he wants to reaffirm that he is still very much living.
Yeah, I indeed am. I can't die and still feel so much pain.
Holding it in for too long, it lashes out at him now, it cries out like a beast that has been trapped for too long in a confined area, it threatens to burst out of him, rip him apart and leave him lying there, lifeless, and dead. Emotions can be really aggressive, he realizes belatedly. The overwhelming sadness he is facing drives his mind into an over whirl. It berates him for shutting it in since that very morning; it blames him for depriving it of its release since that very morning; it beats him down, hard, for not expressing it outright, on his face.
Donghae gasps for air, gulping down several deep breaths at a go. Displaying nothing, it is something he has became very, very well-acquainted with when he started out in this show business career. Plastering a blank expression on his face, this is something he learnt how to master from the very beginning. Being a great actor, hiding everything deep down within him, he already knows, it is part of his job description since the birth of his career as a singer.
Looking down to hide the pain that he knows is evident in his eyes for that very short second, he looks up again, and that fleeting, momentary moment of throbbing that is threatening to jump out of him is swallowed back down, into the pits of his stomach, where it is hidden, and no one sees it, ever. He smiles, and it's a convincing one, he thinks to himself, as he spots his reflection in the lens of the camera that is right in front of him. He raises a hand to wave at the fans, and he strikes a victory pose, grinning as the fans smile and wave back. He detects the melancholy in their smiles, but he pretends not to see it.
He shifts his gaze slightly to the side, and he sees Eunhyuk staring right back at him. A little jolted, he stares back, and Eunhyuk drops his gaze immediately to the ground. Eunhyuk lets out an awkward laugh, his gaze still trained on a certain spot on the floor. Hurt consumes Donghae for a second, because he knows what Eunhyuk is thinking just now, he sees it all, and it wrenches his heart.
When did we change?
Why did we all change?
To hide it all? To transform to someone else? That I, myself, or my best friend, don't recognize me anymore?
Donghae raises weakly, his legs sending warning signals to his brain, telling him that they may fold anytime, anytime at all, and send him tumbling to the ground, crawling at it like a helpless child, crying and pathetic. Feeble, he silently scolds himself, as he finally limps over to the mirror and grips the dressing table tightly.
He raises a hand to touch his reflection in the mirror. This mask, doesn't fit him anymore. It blinds him, so much that he doesn't know where he is at; it shuts the world from him, so much that he doesn't know what to feel for it anymore, so much that he doesn't recall how the grass can actually feel beneath his feet, so much that he forgets how a simple morning breeze can ruffle his hair and shake all his troubles away from him. This mask hides him too much, so much, that he doesn't who is the true person behind all this face anymore.
Donghae grins painfully at the other person in the mirror, who is grimacing back at him. No more, he thinks to himself, no more. He raises his fist and punches it straight at the other in the mirror, repeating the action over and over again. He sees the mirror crack, he sees the fragments fall onto the table, he sees shards jutting out of the mirror, but somehow, he just doesn't feel it cutting right into his hand, his fingers, his palm, his heart.
"Am I suffering from some lag response syndrome?" Donghae questions himself. He raises his eyebrows at the bloodied hand that is resting on the surface of the broken mirror. The blood from his injured hand is dripping down, pat pat pat, he takes the sound in, and absorbing every single impression he still can take in, now. The blood graces the mirror, draping over it as if it is a red curtain, and Donghae laughs at the absurdity of all this, of all of this.
What the hell, he laughs quietly to himself. Another chuckle escapes his mouth, and another soon follows. He cannot stop laughing, it racks through him, it sends trembles throughout his body, and he feels himself shaking so hard that he has to sink into a nearby chair so he will not collapse on to the floor. He laughs so hard, that he feels tears soon streaming down his face, and he laughs, or cries, even harder. He laughs at his life, he laughs at his plight, he laughs at his own pathetic self. Now, he doesn't know anymore, if the tears that are rolling down his face are tears of joy, or tears of sadness.
So this is how it feels, to be heartbroken, he thinks to himself.
So this is how it feels, to think you discover yourself finally, at the very end of this journey, just to find yourself being self-deluded, and being a very happy fool at that as well, he smiles to himself.
So this is how it feels, to dig into yourself and find so much pain within.
So this is how it feels, when someone close to you is hurt, and you share his pain, but you cannot show it. So this is how it feels, when someone close to you is crying, and you stand in the corner watching, not exactly wrapping your arms around him, but bearing the whole brunt of it at the same time.
So this is how it feels, in the very end, he cries to himself.
No more, no more, he shuts his eyes, and rests his forehead on the table in front of him. No more.