Taemin knows what it is to be alone in a crowded room. To be surrounded by people shouting your name, every eye watching you, but somehow still feel completely alone. But he doesn't complain. In fact, he's almost gotten used to it. He used to want fame so much he could taste it, so much that he dreamed about it. He would practice his dancing until he was so exhausted that he couldn't stand, because in his mind in order for his name, his face to be known, he had to be the best.

But it no longer fazes him when a person on the street knows his name and his face, or the kids in school whisper behind their hands. He no longer wants the attention he so desired before, because it's so easy to get.

Easy to get with the exception, of course, from one person. And of course, it's the one person he wants any attention from. And whenever he thinks about it, he feels frustrated and upset, ready to cry.

In fact, he finds it hard to stomach.

He knows he's not supposed to have feelings like this, not for his hyung. Not for a boy.

And yet, he keeps building himself up and letting himself get knocked down by the vicious, unwinnable circle he subjects himself to get a glance, a glimmer, a sentence from that once person.

Prepare, perform, reject, repeat.

But there's nothing. It's always nothing. And Taemin isn't sure why he keeps trying.

He read once, somewhere, that to continue to do something over and over with the same result while expecting a different result is the very definition of insanity.

And so, Taemin has concluded that he must be insane. After all, he cannot win.

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