Lifeless to the world I know
Title: Lifeless to the world I know
Author: colorfulgrey
Pairing: 2min
Rating: PG
Genre: Angst, Romance
Warning(s): None.
Word count: 1504
Summary: I was living in a world full of lies, secrets and false smiles and while I was trying so hard to remain honest, I was losing myself in the eternal struggle.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
I hated lies and consequently I hated liars. I didn’t want to lie and so I tried my hardest to hold on to the truth, even though it sometimes brought me to my limits.
Once I fell in love with a girl. She was my first crush and she seemed to like me as well. The opportunity was there, but I was young and she was from the same company and I was going to debut soon; so when Onew asked if I liked her I lied and a small part of me died.
When I was asked about my ideal type I wanted to answer truthfully that I didn’t have one, but it was expected from me. So I replied with Emma Watson, because I was young and she was pretty and when I was supposed to say something to her I lied and said “I love you” and a small part of me died.
My smiles shouldn’t be lies. It didn’t matter how many hours we were recording, I was constantly looking for a reason to smile. Yet, I soon started to question the meaning of a smile. When was a smile real? When your eyes smiled with you or when your heart did so? A smile became a grimace to me; a contorted face which society found prettier than my honest feelings. Every smile around me was just a mask and I decided to wear one, too. It had lost its meaning to me and I stopped believing in them. I lost my faith in smiles and though I didn’t put my lies into words, my smile was one and so a small part of me died.
I once caught Kibum and Jonghyun whispering too each other. I asked them what they were whispering about, but they didn’t want to tell me, because obviously that was the reason why they were whispering in the first place. It left me wondering if a secret was a lie as well and I came to the conclusion that a secret became a lie when one denied having one. So I asked Kibum if he and Jonghyun shared a secret, because I was young and he was the one who said that we should be honest with each other; yet he lied, said that there was no such thing and even though I wasn’t the one who had lied, a small part of me died.
I stared into a pair of brown eyes and this pair of eyes stared back, while busy scissors were cutting the hair of the boy’s head - my head. Even though the new hair style looked really good I sighed deeply, because a new hair style meant a new image and a new image meant a new lie. I didn’t want to lie and so I had to find the image I was supposed to embody for the next weeks within myself. The majority of my personality became a secret and only a small part remained true. When the stylist noona asked if I liked the new hair style I looked into the mirror and wanted to answer that I hated it, but I was young and she had no clue and when her happy expression became a worried one, I lied and a small part of me died.
While living with four other boys there were many funny, sad, embarrassing and humorous things happening and I was sure that they knew what was suitable for exposing to the public at variety shows and interviews. But when they revealed their suspicions of my habit of hiding in the manager’s room at night, I decided that sometimes it was better to trust no one.
I stuttered an excuse for that habit, because yes - sometimes I was watching porn, but I also did other things which I didn’t want the others to know.
I was a bad liar, but I wasn’t actually lying, only telling half of the truth: that I was thinking about the past and my goals.
I needed some time alone for myself. I was living in a world full of lies, secrets and false smiles and while I was trying so hard to remain honest, I was losing myself in the eternal struggle. Who am I and what makes me distinct from my stage persona? Are we the same person or is he just another mask I’m wearing and where is the border between only-half-of-the-truth and a lie?
After the interview the other members apologized halfheartedly and I just laughed it off, replying that this would now finally destroy the image of the cute maknae. Of course I couldn’t tell them the complete truth, because I was young and they were my closest friends and when Onew asked if everything was really alright, I lied, smiling and a small part of me died. Yet, another big piece was dying along with it when I realized that he didn’t only believe the lie, but the smile as well.
Otherwise I was doing fine. My childish purity and innocence were suffering, but I was more honest than most of the people in my world or even in my dorm.
I was so occupied with the small lies that I didn’t see the real murderer in front of me.
I should’ve known, or at least suspected that something like that might happen soon, because I was at that age, yet I was blind, he caught me off-guard and I fell in love with him. When I noticed it, it was too late, much too late. The murderer enjoyed to torture me. He ripped me apart and killed me slowly and painfully and when Onew asked me if everything was alright, because lately I seemed to be very exhausted, I lied with a big smile plastered on my face, because I was young and it was unstoppable and I let it kill me entirely.
From the moment I realized that the murderer had his knife deep inside my heart, I decided to write down the truth which I couldn’t say; as a compensation for all the lies I was telling. The notebook was full after a few weeks and I found myself sitting on the roof of our apartment building, ripping page after page out of it and let them fly in the wind.
I didn’t hear the killer coming and when he suddenly stood silently beside me I felt my heart beating faster, despite the knife in it.
It hurt, it hurt damn much, because no matter how many bullets were shot at me by the secrets and false smiles, a beating heart with a knife full of lies inside of it was the most brutal pain I had ever experienced, because I was young and love was strong and I was already dead.
When he asked me what I was doing, I answered “Spilling the truth.” and let another piece of sincere paper fly away. He didn’t say a word after that and I appreciated it, because his presence was making me nervous enough.
Was he aware of the dagger inside my heart? Did he know of its length and of the sharpness of its blade? Had he carefully chosen which knife he wanted to ram into my heart or had he grabbed the first one available to him?
The answer became crystal clear when the killer caught one of the sheets of paper.
He had chosen the most painful knife and I wanted to pull it out, but I was young and not invincible and so the knife was even able to kill a corpse.
I didn’t know if he had said something or if I had interrupted him. I didn’t even know if he was still present, because I sat there frozen like a statue, eyes focused on the wind. I whispered “Don’t lie to me.”, hoping that it would somehow save me, because I was young and the killer wore a mask I was unable to see through, for mine was by this time more imposing than his, decorated with false smiles and secrets and lies, so many lies.
As the murderer stormed at me, the wind caught his mask. Minho pulled me into a tight embrace, but I was almost sure that it was a lie, because my mistrust in people made me believe that. Yet, he didn’t smile and so his smile couldn’t be false. He didn’t say a word and so no lies could be released. He was too warm to be a lie, the proximity crushed my mask and no secrets were left when he breathed the three words I had written on the 713 pages of the little notebook.
I didn’t want to let my guard down, but I was young and he was honest and when he clarified that he didn’t only love me, but was also in love with me, I told him the truth and a small part of me was revived.
Author: colorfulgrey
Pairing: 2min
Rating: PG
Genre: Angst, Romance
Warning(s): None.
Word count: 1504
Summary: I was living in a world full of lies, secrets and false smiles and while I was trying so hard to remain honest, I was losing myself in the eternal struggle.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
I hated lies and consequently I hated liars. I didn’t want to lie and so I tried my hardest to hold on to the truth, even though it sometimes brought me to my limits.
Once I fell in love with a girl. She was my first crush and she seemed to like me as well. The opportunity was there, but I was young and she was from the same company and I was going to debut soon; so when Onew asked if I liked her I lied and a small part of me died.
When I was asked about my ideal type I wanted to answer truthfully that I didn’t have one, but it was expected from me. So I replied with Emma Watson, because I was young and she was pretty and when I was supposed to say something to her I lied and said “I love you” and a small part of me died.
My smiles shouldn’t be lies. It didn’t matter how many hours we were recording, I was constantly looking for a reason to smile. Yet, I soon started to question the meaning of a smile. When was a smile real? When your eyes smiled with you or when your heart did so? A smile became a grimace to me; a contorted face which society found prettier than my honest feelings. Every smile around me was just a mask and I decided to wear one, too. It had lost its meaning to me and I stopped believing in them. I lost my faith in smiles and though I didn’t put my lies into words, my smile was one and so a small part of me died.
I once caught Kibum and Jonghyun whispering too each other. I asked them what they were whispering about, but they didn’t want to tell me, because obviously that was the reason why they were whispering in the first place. It left me wondering if a secret was a lie as well and I came to the conclusion that a secret became a lie when one denied having one. So I asked Kibum if he and Jonghyun shared a secret, because I was young and he was the one who said that we should be honest with each other; yet he lied, said that there was no such thing and even though I wasn’t the one who had lied, a small part of me died.
I stared into a pair of brown eyes and this pair of eyes stared back, while busy scissors were cutting the hair of the boy’s head - my head. Even though the new hair style looked really good I sighed deeply, because a new hair style meant a new image and a new image meant a new lie. I didn’t want to lie and so I had to find the image I was supposed to embody for the next weeks within myself. The majority of my personality became a secret and only a small part remained true. When the stylist noona asked if I liked the new hair style I looked into the mirror and wanted to answer that I hated it, but I was young and she had no clue and when her happy expression became a worried one, I lied and a small part of me died.
While living with four other boys there were many funny, sad, embarrassing and humorous things happening and I was sure that they knew what was suitable for exposing to the public at variety shows and interviews. But when they revealed their suspicions of my habit of hiding in the manager’s room at night, I decided that sometimes it was better to trust no one.
I stuttered an excuse for that habit, because yes - sometimes I was watching porn, but I also did other things which I didn’t want the others to know.
I was a bad liar, but I wasn’t actually lying, only telling half of the truth: that I was thinking about the past and my goals.
I needed some time alone for myself. I was living in a world full of lies, secrets and false smiles and while I was trying so hard to remain honest, I was losing myself in the eternal struggle. Who am I and what makes me distinct from my stage persona? Are we the same person or is he just another mask I’m wearing and where is the border between only-half-of-the-truth and a lie?
After the interview the other members apologized halfheartedly and I just laughed it off, replying that this would now finally destroy the image of the cute maknae. Of course I couldn’t tell them the complete truth, because I was young and they were my closest friends and when Onew asked if everything was really alright, I lied, smiling and a small part of me died. Yet, another big piece was dying along with it when I realized that he didn’t only believe the lie, but the smile as well.
Otherwise I was doing fine. My childish purity and innocence were suffering, but I was more honest than most of the people in my world or even in my dorm.
I was so occupied with the small lies that I didn’t see the real murderer in front of me.
I should’ve known, or at least suspected that something like that might happen soon, because I was at that age, yet I was blind, he caught me off-guard and I fell in love with him. When I noticed it, it was too late, much too late. The murderer enjoyed to torture me. He ripped me apart and killed me slowly and painfully and when Onew asked me if everything was alright, because lately I seemed to be very exhausted, I lied with a big smile plastered on my face, because I was young and it was unstoppable and I let it kill me entirely.
From the moment I realized that the murderer had his knife deep inside my heart, I decided to write down the truth which I couldn’t say; as a compensation for all the lies I was telling. The notebook was full after a few weeks and I found myself sitting on the roof of our apartment building, ripping page after page out of it and let them fly in the wind.
I didn’t hear the killer coming and when he suddenly stood silently beside me I felt my heart beating faster, despite the knife in it.
It hurt, it hurt damn much, because no matter how many bullets were shot at me by the secrets and false smiles, a beating heart with a knife full of lies inside of it was the most brutal pain I had ever experienced, because I was young and love was strong and I was already dead.
When he asked me what I was doing, I answered “Spilling the truth.” and let another piece of sincere paper fly away. He didn’t say a word after that and I appreciated it, because his presence was making me nervous enough.
Was he aware of the dagger inside my heart? Did he know of its length and of the sharpness of its blade? Had he carefully chosen which knife he wanted to ram into my heart or had he grabbed the first one available to him?
The answer became crystal clear when the killer caught one of the sheets of paper.
He had chosen the most painful knife and I wanted to pull it out, but I was young and not invincible and so the knife was even able to kill a corpse.
I didn’t know if he had said something or if I had interrupted him. I didn’t even know if he was still present, because I sat there frozen like a statue, eyes focused on the wind. I whispered “Don’t lie to me.”, hoping that it would somehow save me, because I was young and the killer wore a mask I was unable to see through, for mine was by this time more imposing than his, decorated with false smiles and secrets and lies, so many lies.
As the murderer stormed at me, the wind caught his mask. Minho pulled me into a tight embrace, but I was almost sure that it was a lie, because my mistrust in people made me believe that. Yet, he didn’t smile and so his smile couldn’t be false. He didn’t say a word and so no lies could be released. He was too warm to be a lie, the proximity crushed my mask and no secrets were left when he breathed the three words I had written on the 713 pages of the little notebook.
I didn’t want to let my guard down, but I was young and he was honest and when he clarified that he didn’t only love me, but was also in love with me, I told him the truth and a small part of me was revived.