“Who are you?” Donghae asked staring at the foot of the bed and the young woman that had suddenly appeared there from seemingly nowhere.
She, dressed in the sheer bright fabrics that he associated with a desert people straight out of the movies, inclined her head as if she was pondering the best way to answer. “You could call me a genie of sorts, I suppose,” she replied finally. Her voice was soft, musical even, and it soothed him without him really realizing why.
The young man sent a sideways glance at the glass sitting on the small table beside the bed. He didn’t think that Leeteuk would have spiked it with anything, but there was hardly another explanation for the apparition that had appeared in front of him. Hotel security wasn’t as good at that of their apartment, but he highly doubted that a young woman would be able to sneak all the way to the fifteenth floor and into his room without anyone having noticed. Logic dictated that he was either drunk or dreaming and he found that he didn’t much care which.
“I get a wish then?” he asked, grinning. He might as well stretch this as far as he could.
“Yes,” she replied, shifting and crossing one leg over the other daintily, causing the flowing lavender material to shift around her. “You have one wish you may make.”
“Just one? I thought the rule was three?” he grumbled. Even his imagination was giving him the short end of the stick.
She sighed, and he wondered if she heard that complaint a lot. “Do you see a lamp? Three wishes is for those bound to lamp. One wish is for those of us that choose from need.” That sounded needlessly cryptic even for his imagination, and he would rather not think too hard on it. He nodded his understanding and she smiled, possibly relieved that she didn’t have to elaborate. “What is your wish? What would you change?”
There were so many things he could wish for, so much that he wanted. He could wish for life for his father, although he was fairly certain that was in the genie’s big book of Impossible Three. He could wish for a wife, a woman to spoil and to hold him in the dark of the night. He could wish for health abundant for his fellow members, for bodies so healthy that they wouldn’t know what to do with it. He could wish for an end to the lawsuits or for that matter a freak fire to consume certain key people and things. So many thoughts flitted across his mind, but the one on his heart was so much simpler than any other.
“I wish to go back to the time before this was a job, before I got paid, and before I started hating being on stage,” he whispered.
The smile of the young woman was sad as she gazed upon him. “As with all good things, it will come to an end,” she told him gently.
He nodded, remembering the movies and book, how a wish or request could go badly. Donghae thought momentarily about retracting the request but her hand was already reaching out, fingers brushing gently against his forehead. “Enjoy your wish,” she murmured, and his eyes fluttered shut as the softness of the bed faded beneath him.
For a few hours, Lee Donghae lost himself in a lighter time, a time where the stage was still new and every moment was exciting. He relished the excited flutter of his heart, the crack of his voice, the tremble of his limbs, the screams of the fans. The moments with the members of his group, with all thirteen there, going over the steps one more time before they went on, retracting their moves because they wanted to be perfect, not because someone said they had to be. He breathed in the scent of the stage, the lights, the drying paint and sweat as if it were the first time again. Every moment he savored as the music started and he moved with a joy long gone, sang with a heart that had melted away.
Each moment he took and stored within himself so that when his eyes opened to the cold hotel room and he felt the weariness of his body, he had something to get him through, something to help him last. He could hear the echoes of her words fading with the sharpness of the feelings, ‘What is your wish?’
At one point in his life he had thought he would always be able to say he wouldn’t wish for a thing, that he had everything that he had dreamed of. He didn’t know when that had changed to the deepest wish of his being, the answer that he could never speak.
“What would you change?”
AN: This came to me as I was driving home and Airplanes by B.O.B. came on my ipod. Immediately I thought of Super Junior as I have more and more while listening to that song lately. It just seems like that song could easily be the cry of their hearts. In a way I suppose this is my response to the recent performances that they have been giving. Even the most unobservant fan can see that their hearts are not in it right now and it is just so sad...