Idol
Title: Idol
Author: a_life_defiant
Genre: angst, song!fic, inspired by the song 'Paralytic' by Dead Poetic.
Pairing: none, Key-centric
Rating: R for language
Summary: Decisions. We all make them. Too bad we never know the cost until it's too late.
A/N: So apparently my muse is being an emo bitch. I blame it on THIS song.
A/N2: tweaked two words in the lyrics to fit the fic better. IDEK how to feel about this piece. It kind of makes me want to bash my head into a wall. And it's ok if you don't get it. I'm not even sure what the fuck I was trying to do here....
Paint the lines on perfect eyes that circle the object of
Your sincere affection, your undivided attention.
I sit staring at my reflection in the mirror as the stylist noona touches up my make-up. Sometimes I don’t even recognize my own face anymore; even more so when I’m painted up like some sick parody of a human being. The person that gazes back at me isn’t someone I know. I feel more and more of myself slipping away each day. Pieces scattered into the wind in dance motions and fan service. Blinding lights burn away all that I was while costume changes mask this thing I’ve become. An idol. But I asked for this, right?
Lie where you won’t see yourself in that way.
And we’ll ride to somewhere.
‘I signed up for this.’ That’s what I keep telling myself day after day of relentless schedules. I wanted to be here, didn’t I? It’s my dream, and I need to accept all that comes with it. I’m happy. I’m supposed to be happy. Not just anyone gets to live this life. I’m special. What I’m doing is special. I’m honored. I’m supposed to be honored. I wish they would just call us on stage already. I would rather feel the weight of all their stares than the own look in my eyes.
“You’re up.” One of the stage coordinators barks at us while herding us out of the ready room.
Finally. We put on the smiles that we’ve rehearsed so well and we go out and live our dreams. The dreams we sold our souls for. Dreams that everyone would kill for. only thing they never tell you is that you’re the one who has to die in order to live them.
All we are is paralyzed from the face down.
We’re still alive with our fake smiles.
When the camera’s away.
The sickest part of it all is that even after the lights have dimmed, even after the fans have stopped screaming; when the make-up is off and the costumes are on their hangers - we still look the same. These fake fucking smiles etched onto our faces,so tied into muscle memory that it’s nearly impossible to wipe them off. Because inevitably someone is always looking. You can’t let the façade drop. Because you know that the second, the very second that you slip up is the moment when they will eat you alive. So we all disconnect our heads from our hearts and play dead. Perfect little mannequins that always seem pleased - even when we’re slowly dying on the inside.
Don’t remember this. No, don’t remember this.
Try to forget the times when you had your own opinion. Try to forget the times when you allowed yourself to feel anything but the stress of it all. Try to forget the person you were before they made you who they wanted you to be.
We are losing it all, but we are gaining the world with our hands tied.
Your arms placed upon mine.
And the sky looks so right, and you’re mine tonight.
I know eventually I’ll be so jaded that thoughts like this won’t even cross my mind. I’ll have lost everything that ever made me truly special in the first place. I’m sure by that point I’m probably won’t give a damn. I’ll have more money than I know what to do with, more fame than should ever be allowed, and more than enough arrogance to think that it’s all acceptable - that it’s all what I really want.
Gone will be the days that we lean on each other when our little SHINee bubble is too much to handle. Gone will be nights like this when we’ve pushed all the beds together so we can sleep right next to one another - just to feel something besides the ‘reality’ of our daily lives.
Silky twilight streams through the windows, illuminating this tangle of limbs that we’ve somehow managed to cuddle into. I brush the wetness of my cheeks, knowing full well that I’m not the only one with puffy eyes and tear tracks marring my face. In this moment we only belong to each other. We’re not bandmates, we’re brothers - family.
I know one day not even that will keep us together. Arguments will happen and we’ll end up hating each other; filled with resentment at how we never did anything to stop this. But I can’t let myself think about that. Not tonight.
Lie where you won’t see yourself in that way.
And we’ll ride…
Tonight we’re ok. At least that’s what we keep telling ourselves.
Author: a_life_defiant
Genre: angst, song!fic, inspired by the song 'Paralytic' by Dead Poetic.
Pairing: none, Key-centric
Rating: R for language
Summary: Decisions. We all make them. Too bad we never know the cost until it's too late.
A/N: So apparently my muse is being an emo bitch. I blame it on THIS song.
A/N2: tweaked two words in the lyrics to fit the fic better. IDEK how to feel about this piece. It kind of makes me want to bash my head into a wall. And it's ok if you don't get it. I'm not even sure what the fuck I was trying to do here....
Paint the lines on perfect eyes that circle the object of
Your sincere affection, your undivided attention.
I sit staring at my reflection in the mirror as the stylist noona touches up my make-up. Sometimes I don’t even recognize my own face anymore; even more so when I’m painted up like some sick parody of a human being. The person that gazes back at me isn’t someone I know. I feel more and more of myself slipping away each day. Pieces scattered into the wind in dance motions and fan service. Blinding lights burn away all that I was while costume changes mask this thing I’ve become. An idol. But I asked for this, right?
Lie where you won’t see yourself in that way.
And we’ll ride to somewhere.
‘I signed up for this.’ That’s what I keep telling myself day after day of relentless schedules. I wanted to be here, didn’t I? It’s my dream, and I need to accept all that comes with it. I’m happy. I’m supposed to be happy. Not just anyone gets to live this life. I’m special. What I’m doing is special. I’m honored. I’m supposed to be honored. I wish they would just call us on stage already. I would rather feel the weight of all their stares than the own look in my eyes.
“You’re up.” One of the stage coordinators barks at us while herding us out of the ready room.
Finally. We put on the smiles that we’ve rehearsed so well and we go out and live our dreams. The dreams we sold our souls for. Dreams that everyone would kill for. only thing they never tell you is that you’re the one who has to die in order to live them.
All we are is paralyzed from the face down.
We’re still alive with our fake smiles.
When the camera’s away.
The sickest part of it all is that even after the lights have dimmed, even after the fans have stopped screaming; when the make-up is off and the costumes are on their hangers - we still look the same. These fake fucking smiles etched onto our faces,so tied into muscle memory that it’s nearly impossible to wipe them off. Because inevitably someone is always looking. You can’t let the façade drop. Because you know that the second, the very second that you slip up is the moment when they will eat you alive. So we all disconnect our heads from our hearts and play dead. Perfect little mannequins that always seem pleased - even when we’re slowly dying on the inside.
Don’t remember this. No, don’t remember this.
Try to forget the times when you had your own opinion. Try to forget the times when you allowed yourself to feel anything but the stress of it all. Try to forget the person you were before they made you who they wanted you to be.
We are losing it all, but we are gaining the world with our hands tied.
Your arms placed upon mine.
And the sky looks so right, and you’re mine tonight.
I know eventually I’ll be so jaded that thoughts like this won’t even cross my mind. I’ll have lost everything that ever made me truly special in the first place. I’m sure by that point I’m probably won’t give a damn. I’ll have more money than I know what to do with, more fame than should ever be allowed, and more than enough arrogance to think that it’s all acceptable - that it’s all what I really want.
Gone will be the days that we lean on each other when our little SHINee bubble is too much to handle. Gone will be nights like this when we’ve pushed all the beds together so we can sleep right next to one another - just to feel something besides the ‘reality’ of our daily lives.
Silky twilight streams through the windows, illuminating this tangle of limbs that we’ve somehow managed to cuddle into. I brush the wetness of my cheeks, knowing full well that I’m not the only one with puffy eyes and tear tracks marring my face. In this moment we only belong to each other. We’re not bandmates, we’re brothers - family.
I know one day not even that will keep us together. Arguments will happen and we’ll end up hating each other; filled with resentment at how we never did anything to stop this. But I can’t let myself think about that. Not tonight.
Lie where you won’t see yourself in that way.
And we’ll ride…
Tonight we’re ok. At least that’s what we keep telling ourselves.