Jonghyun’s Attitude Towards Life

“But why is it ‘insignificant Choi Minho’?”

“Because you’re insignificant.”

Minho isn’t sure if he’s supposed to let that statement bother him as much as it really did. He knows Jonghyun could be tactless at best and heartless at worst. But is he honestly supposed to take that statement in stride? Nevertheless, the filming goes on, his thoughts and feelings buried deep under as he tries to keep the show as light and as funny as it possibly could be – for the sake of the viewers.

It’s when they’re in the car on the way back to the dorm after a full day of filming that his earlier thoughts come back to plague him.

Insignificant.

He supposes it isn’t that big of a deal because he and Jonghyun always engage in some form of playful banter now and then. He’d call the older a midget – because he was – in turn, he would be called an alien who only knew sports – because he was, maybe just a little. Their arguments would fly over their heads after the first few minutes and the next time they’d be all up in each other’s personal space would be when Jonghyun has his face buried in Minho’s shirt, soaking it with his salty tears. This was what happened usually; most of the time; all the time. And it bothers Minho to know that now that he’s older and more mature about certain things, he can’t just let it go.

It could be the building pressure of promoting the new album and of promises to bring to the table a newer and better SHINee that were getting to him. Donghae always did warn him about these kinds of thoughts that would surface at the most unexpected moments, creeping up on him and then implanting in his mind like a seed that would grow and bear fruit.

And now, as he watches and listens to Jonghyun and Jinki belting out lyrics to a song he’s only familiar with while Kibum and Taemin dance along in their seats, he’s starting to see the insignificance Jonghyun spoke of.

That whole night - during dinner and until they all went to bed - he remains silent and simply watches. He watches the members interact with one another and, uncomfortably, he feels the very shadows of his younger insecurities slowly begin to claim a hold of him again.

He lies awake on his bed, only the sounds of Jonghyun breathing heavily fill the dark room. No amount of shifts in sleeping positions get him to fall asleep; he’s much too bothered with the same thoughts that used to keep him awake during the nights when Jonghyun constantly sang Replay in his sleep – during the days when they all still had innocence and black hair.

What exactly does he bring to SHINee, aside from the good looks everyone constantly tells him he possesses? Everyone in the group is good looking – horribly so, if the screams of the fangirls with every smile sent their way were any indication. He’s a rapper, yes, but Kibum is one too, and he’s just as good as Minho is. He isn’t as good of a dancer as Taemin or Kibum are, and his singing can hardly keep up with the others – the others who improve day by day while he’s left in the dust, still trying to get his do-re-mi right.

He decides to give up on the pity party and go back to working on getting to sleep. He stands and makes his way to the kitchen, bare feet pattering on the cold floor. There, he makes himself a cup of hot chocolate, just the way his older brother used to make them for him on late nights just like these when he’s had a nightmare about the invisible monsters underneath his bed. He nurses his drink sitting at the table with his long legs folded under him.

It isn’t very long after he started sipping at his drink that he hears the door to one of the bedrooms gently open and close. He turns in his seat and finds Jinki heading over to him.

“What are you doing up, hyung?”

“Probably the same reason you are. Have a lot of things on your mind?”

Minho blinks as Jinki sits down in front of him.

“So talk.”

“Nothing’s wrong, hyung. I’m fine,” he tries to argue, taking another sip from his drink.

“If that were the case, neither of us would be out here. C’mon, how often do I get to play the role of the caring leader? Humor me, just this once.”

He wasn’t sure if it was the sweetness of the chocolate drink or the sincerity that Jinki exuded, but he soon finds himself baring his insecurities to the oldest member. The whole time he keeps silent, only nods where he finds it appropriate, and for that Minho feels grateful. He supposes that as compared to someone who would most likely tell him that what he thought was stupid, at this moment, he just needs someone to listen and to share his innermost thoughts with.

When he finishes, it’s already well-past two in the morning and the hot chocolate that’s supposed to help him sleep has turned cold. He hadn’t noticed that the whole time he spoke he kept his gaze on the table in between them and when he finally looks up at Jinki he finds the other giving him a small smile – no teeth, eyes present.

“Hyung?”

“You need to sleep, Minho. We’ll have to wake up again for our next schedule in 4 hours.”

They both stand, and, although a little disappointed, Minho quietly thanks Jinki for listening before placing his used mug down in the sink. He wasn’t expecting advice or anything of the sort, but the least he wanted to hear from Jinki was an indication that Minho’s thinking was far from the truth; “You’re important to all of us” – something to that effect. He leaves the cup to sit in the sink and makes his way out of the kitchen, back towards the room he shares with Jonghyun.

He doesn’t get much sleep after the hot chocolate either. He constantly shifts and turns and sighs in succession. Nothing helps him anymore. And when he thinks he’s just about to drift to sleep, he feels Kibum’s spindly fingers grasping his arm and trying to shake him awake. He opens his eyes blearily and tries to blink away the gravity that pulls his eyelids down again.

The older-yeah-whatever-by-only-a-few-months member looks right into his eyes, watching him battle with sleep and fatigue. When he finally gets his eyes to stay open for longer than a second, he stares right back at him. Although his lips curve no farther than the thin line they were set into, Kibum smiles at him.

“Do you want me to cook something for breakfast?” I can cook your favourite for you.

“I’m fine.” I don’t want to trouble you.

Kibum nods slowly before getting up from where he’s kneeling down beside Minho’s bed and tells him to ‘get up before everyone else finishes the food’.

He pushes himself off of the bed slowly and listens to his joints crack with every muscle stretch. He hasn’t felt this tired in a while; not even after several gruelling hours of dance practice and a couple more hours of filming Dream Team. It’s eating away at his disposition and it makes him feel like he’s only hanging on by a sinew.

He shuffles out of the room and the smell of fried eggs, sausages, kimchi, seaweed, and steaming rice wakes him up a little – just a little.

“Minho, come and eat. We’ll have to leave soon.”

He takes the empty seat next to Taemin and stares blankly at the plate of food in front of him. He wasn’t entirely sure, but his whole body feels numb. He can’t tell if it’s his head, or his chest, or his shoulders that are pulling him down to a slump, but one of them feels too heavy, and he’s just going to let it bring him down until his nose is inches away from his egg.

“Yah! Aren’t you going to eat? The dishes have to be in the sink in ten minutes or we’ll be late,” he hears one of them say – maybe it was Jonghyun, or Kibum.

Regardless, he nods slowly and picks up his chopsticks and starts going through his meal as fast as his body would let him – it feels so foreign to move. He swears he feels a foot graze past his and then there’s that same voice from earlier (he knows now that it’s Jonghyun) going ‘ow’.

“Go take first bath or something.” Jinki says and there’s the sound of chairs being pushed back and of feet taking careful steps towards the bathroom.

“Kibum-hyung, do you need help with cleaning up?” Taemin asks – Minho knows it’s him because no one else calls Kibum ‘hyung’, even if the latter has tried to coerce him into doing so.

He’s halfway finished through his breakfast when suddenly there’s a bowl to the left of his plate and it’s filled with warm, spicy, delicious ramen.

He looks up at Kibum who doesn’t look back. He notices that both he and Jinki are finished with their food, plates cleaned of any indication of breakfast. He also notices that he’s the only one left with one and a half of breakfast to finish. He starts shovelling the food into his mouth – the earlier numbness of his body is forgotten as embarrassment colors his cheeks red for making his members wait.

Then all of a sudden, there’s an arm across his back and it’s pushing his right arm down to rest against the table – his chopsticks against his plate. He looks up again and feels a crick in his neck. Kibum’s staring at him with those soft smiling eyes again and Jinki’s moved a seat closer to him shoving tissue at his face.

“Relax; Jonghyun’s probably going to take forever coz it’s first bath.”

“Actually, I decided to give first bath to Minho, since he stinks worse than I do. So you should finish that now before I change my mind.” Jonghyun walks over to the table again and sits down at the table, playing with the strap on his phone. He looks at Minho in the eyes and he’s trying to tell him something through them, but he’s not sure if Minho’s getting the message.

Taemin comes up beside him, takes the chopsticks in his hand and shoves an egg into his mouth. “Don’t listen to Jonghyun hyung; you should get to take as long as you want. Kibum hyung’s cooking should be savoured – it’s what you always say, right hyung?” Taemin smiles a wide smile, sits on the chair that Jinki left vacant and starts to argue with Jonghyun about his being too informal with his words again.

Minho starts to put food in his mouth again and he suddenly gets this rush of warmth in his chest that reminds him of home. He feels like he’s home, where Jinki’s his appa and Kibum’s his omma; where Jonghyun’s his hyung who he usually gets into fights with and who calls him names, annoys him, and then apologizes silently like only older brothers know how; and where Taemin’s his room – his safe haven – the place where he can just be himself and not be judged or shunned because the door’s always open for him.

He feels like he’s back home in Incheon with his family and they’re all accepting him for his everything – his strengths and his weaknesses. They’re all showing him that they love him in their own silent ways – Jinki with his advice-less talks, Kibum with his delicious cooking, Taemin with his open-heartedness, and Jonghyun hyung who calls him insignificant but, really, he’s saying:

you mean the world to us.