Let Me Dream || Victon

Chapter Eleven: Press Shoot

Deep breaths. Remember to smile. Above all, you have to remember to smile. 

Subin contrived a smile, trying to forget about the fact that he was called here last minute. Trying to ignore the fact that he hadn't prepared anything and had virtually no idea what he'd say if reporters asked him questions. He tried not to be angry at the fact that he was even there in the first place. 

He didn't need to be here. 

The article that was going out had nothing to do with him. 

He was doing a really bad job of keeping his anger in check. 

He tried to push those feelings back, but it was hard. All because his father said something in support of someone, now they all had to take pictures and be interviewed? He didn't even know what his father said. 

Not that it mattered. All he had to do was smile and people seemed to like him. 

"We're opening the doors now," one of their staff members told his father. 

Subin forced himself to keep the smile on his face, despite the anxiety that was growing inside of him. 

The doors opened, and the reporters rushed in. 

Immediately he was surrounded. Most reporters went to his parents, but a lot of them still came to him. 

He started to feel shaky and he wanted more than anything to run away, but he just smiled. 

"What do you think about your father's support of-" 

"How's school-" 

"Will you be running for-" 

Too many questions. They were asking too many questions, and they were talking all ontop of each other. He couldn't figure out who to answer first, or who to focus on. 

Subin held up a hand, laughing. Pretend you're amused. Act friendly. Act natural. They can't hurt you.

"I'd love to answer all of your questions, but I'll have to be able to hear them first!" Subin chirped, leading them over to a small table in the corner of the room so that he could sit down. His head was spinning and he desperately hoped that it wasn't showing. 

He sat down, relieved to feel the chair solid beneath him. It made him feel safer. 

His smile hadn't left him once, and now he angled it back to the reporters, journalists, and cameramen who were all eagerly looking at him. 

"Please ask me your questions, but one at a time please," he said, his tone teasing as he gestured toward the reporter closest to him. 

"Your father was a lawyer before becoming a politician, and many of your fans speculate that you might be going down the same path," she said, smiling at him. 

Her smile looked fake. It scared him even more. 

He could feel himself trembling slightly, and he pressed his feet firmly to the floor. 

"Many also want you to run for president when you're older. What do you have to say about all this?"

Subin kept his own fake smile on and looked at the camera behind her, hoping that he seemed sincere. "I am currently majoring in political science, with the hopes of becoming a lawyer," he said, shoving as much enthusiasm as he could into those words. 

He didn't want to be a lawyer. He wanted to work with animals. But of course, that was out of the question, and he forced himself to push those feelings away and focus. Focus on the question. 

"As for running for president, I guess we'll have to see when I get older, right?" he asked, laughing and hoping that the people around him would follow suit. They did, thankfully. 

He needed to escape. 

"And speaking of my major," he said, standing up, "I do have a lot of homework to get to." He pouted slightly. "I'm afraid I'll have to excuse myself first." 

He could barely stop himself from turning and running. 

But he couldn't run. He walked with slow, powerful steps. He walked like that until he got to his room, and then he ran inside and locked the door, sinking to the floor and shaking. 

He hated those things. 

Taking his phone out of his pocket, he went to his messages, clicking on the one labeled "Victon." A small smile came to his face when he saw that. Though the name had been something his friends had to come up with in preparation for an interview, he liked it. It was something special between the seven of them. 

"Please, someone meet me" he texted into the group chat, desperately hoping someone would answer quickly. 

He put his phone down, closed his eyes, and hugged himself, trying to hold back his tears.