Smile

I sat with my back to the brick wall, just under the window.

That was my usual spot. Every day after school I would sit on the same patch of grass under the third window from the front of the building. I would sit there, staring at the fragile, growing trees across from the building until the singing stopped.

I didn't know the boy who sung in the same room every day.

I couldn't picture him in my head. Was he tall? Did he have long or short hair? Did he have a nice smile? Were his eyes double or single lidded?

All I knew was that he was a trainee just like me. He was like the rest of us, he wanted to be a singer. But then again, he was absolutely nothing like the rest of us.

His voice.

His voice was something incredible. It was amazing, it was something undeniably perfect.

That day he was singing a ballad. It was sad, but it was absolutely beautiful. He sang it over and over for a whole hour. I cried for a great part of that hour. I cried because his voice was beautiful, I cried because of the lyrics, I cried because I would never sing like him.

He had such feeling in his voice. It was powerful, submerging everything around it with the mood of the song.

He mostly sang love songs, every time his voice dripping with emotion.

He was in love, it was obvious.

I had heard it happen.

I almost never heard him speak, and when he did, he never said anything of it.

I knew because I heard his voice change.

I had been sitting under that window at the same time every day for three weeks. It was summer, and it was hot, so the window was open every day.

The first day I heard him I had just wanted to sit under some shade and avoid the sun before it was my time to practice. That day I had been mesmerized by his voice and I had sat there for a whole hour. As the days went on, his voice seemed to get even lovelier.

He sounded as if he was singing for someone. He sounded like he was saying 'I love you' simply by the way he sang.

His singing made me happy, but it also made me incredibly sad.

I had a good voice. I could sing, I wasn't an SM trainee for no reason, but I was average among the rest. There was something lacking in my voice.

The trainers thought it could be solved with practice, and I practiced for hours on end trying to get it just how they wanted it.

I knew I couldn't do it.

I felt empty.

There was nothing in my heart that would help me get such emotions into a song.

There was absolutely nothing I could do.

I had always lacked affection, my parents were always to busy, my grandmother was always there and I loved her so very much, but that just wasn't it.

I didn't have friends, I didn't have anyone I felt completely comfortable with.

I was lonely.

No emotion came through with the songs I sang.

My voice was empty.

I sat and listened every day to the other boy, hoping to get something from his singing that would help me improve.

I had become slightly better, but not much.

Because of this, I cried.

Because of his voice, I cried.