Snow || Book 2 || P.JM

Chapter 11: One of the Big Three

1 month later

It's been a month.

A month since we debuted.

A month since we made it big.

Our fan-base keeps growing. Thousands of fans come to watch us perform on TV shows, concerts, and stage performances.

We've met many artists who would come to our concerts as well, coming backstage to congratulate us.

Talks of many collaborations has risen, fans wanting those talks to come true.

Fans are in love with us even more ever since we opened up about our love for K-Pop.

We've been seeing more and more ARMY's commenting each day. Our social media has officially opened, and every minute, the number of followers keep increasing.

We even had our second comeback a few days ago.

Admist all this good news, all this happiness, I feel sad.

It feels like there is a part of me missing.

Like, small pieces of my soul chipping away with each passing day.

Each day, I'd come back after work. Each day, I fall. Each day, I sink deeper into my own abyss of sadness.

Hyemi notices, and tries to help me. But I can't. It feels like there is no escape from this.

As minutes turn into hours, hours turn into days, days into weeks, I can't help but wonder, did my parents ever truly love me?

The question etches itself into my thoughts, buried deep inside my head and only comes out when grief takes over me.

I smile to the crowd that stood in front of us.

Hide everything. Smile and laugh as if everything is all right. Like there is no problem and only happiness is what you feel, I tell myself.

Everyday. The bodies let out screams and cheers as we walk off the stage, towards the back.

I sigh as I take off my mic, collapsing onto the black leather couch in the make-up and costume room.

"Hye Jung, are you alright?" Hyemi asks, worry laced to the core of her voice.

I tiredly nod, closing my eyes for a minute, "I'm fine, unnie. Just... need a few moments of rest. That's all."

She scans my face for clues. For signs, or inaudible cries for help to tell her that nothing is alright.

But, I lock all cries, all the screams, and all the tears deep within myself. She lets out a small sigh, before taking off her mic, and walking into the changing room.

I exhale sharply, as my ears tune in to the silence of the room, with only my frequent pants to be heard.

My eyes search the room, looking for something that I can stare at, that wouldn't allow those thoughts to come back.

The staff were all too busy packing up the rest of the backstage equipment, and waiting for the venue to be cleared. I start thinking.