Make me beautiful.

Perfection.

Jongin was definitely skilled with his hands, blessed even, he'd been told that at a young age when he'd draw, or when he'd handle the delicate flowers from his mother's garden. He was also considered skilled as he gently played the flute, or when his fingers carefully brushed the strings of his acoustic guitar, emitting a beautiful sound, or when he used the finest paint brush there was to finish the last tiny detail to what some would call a masterpiece.

But, he wasn't interested in becoming an artist or a florist, he didn't like the idea of becoming a musician, mostly because of suicide rates, and though he had a love and passion for art, that wasn't what he wanted to base his future career off of. Not drawing for a living, or stoking a paint brush across a snowy white canvas. He didn't want to have to sit in a room all day, staring at four blank walls until he came up with his next idea, but at the same time, he didn't want to follow orders. He didn't want a rule book, or someone's annoying voice in his ear telling him what and what not to do. He didn't want to be serving fatty food or lifting heavy things, it was difficult, thinking of a future. But then again, he was difficult in general.

"Why don't you just suck it up and be an artist? share your talent with the world Jongin, you could make thousands off of your drawings and paintings!" A younger Baekhyun had whined. He, along with everyone in their group agreed and acknowledged that Jongin was indeed made for becoming an artist, but the young boy wasn't interested. He didn't want to make thousands off of something that was so simple, he wanted to work hard, say the money he spent was well earned, because to him, drawing and painting was simple. Not only that, but the idea in his head was that everything was digital now, most would prefer photographs over paintings nowadays anyway.

But when grade twelve rolled around, and Jongin was forced to apply for university, an idea popped into his head, something he'd never even imagined before, but it was perfect for him. It would allow him to use the hands people cherished so much, but he would be under his own command, less following intructions and more doing what he wanted, which made him comfortable.

"I still can't beleive you're a plastic surgeon, not only that, but more successful then anyone in your field!" Baekhyun whined, eight years later, and now standing in front of the successful man. It was amazing how Jongin could go from a quiet, rather shy boy in high school, to a rich, confident man in such a short amount of time, at least that was how he played it off. It was astonishing to many people really, and now the girls from high school who payed no mind to him, were now showing up at his office for boob jobs or ass implants, trying to get in the handsome doctors pants and though Chanyeol and Sehun weren't exactly the straightest noodles, it was easy for them to be jealous of all the attention.

"Really though," Chanyeol agreed, "It's not fair."

Jongin chuckled slightly.

As he sat with his friends in his nice beach home, he realized how much he missed all of this. How much he missed the old days where and his friends would sit around at his house while his mother made them cookies and they'd just talk and talk for hours, about school, celebrities, anything they could think about, but that was eight years ago, and ever since then, Jongin hasn't had much spare time. Either he was working late at the office, or he had to come straight home and confirm appointments, do paper work, etc. But sitting there in that very moment, laughing and joking with his friends made him feel like they were back in high school, it brought back so many old memories.

But unfortunately, all good things come to an end and before he knew it, he was sending off Kris, Tao, Sehun, Baekhyun and Chanyeol, not knowing when they'd have another possibility to do this again. But as lonely as he was, this was what he chose.

But when I say lonely, I mean lonely.

Jongin doesn't have someone calling him on his lunch break, asking how his day is going, he doesn't have someone to shop for when christmas rolls around, he doesn't have someone to come home to every night, someone to welcome him with a home made supper, someone to vent to when he's had a stressful day, someone to pamper his love with and someone to make love to. It was extremely lonely, and after work, after he had been that confident, handsome all day, he became the shy, quiet boy he used to be as soon as he stepped through that door, and this was how it was always going to be.