"I have to use the bathroom," Jaejoong deadpans as soon as he crosses the threshold of the dorm and heads to the bathroom, leaving his band mates staring at him oddly. Picture frames containing paintings of boring landscapes rattle as he slams the bathroom door behind him; one falls from its rusty nail and Jaejoong can hear glass shatter. Voices murmur in the kitchen.
He sits on the edge of the bathtub and sighs, wondering why he even came to Seoul in the first place. Why did he he leave his family, only to sell chocolates and bubblegum outside of a supermarket in order to pay his rent? Why did he come to this big city just to fulfill a dream that he wasn't sure he could finish fulfilling?
"Dammit, Youngwoong," he mutters, gripping the hard plastic edge of the bathtub until his knuckles turn white. "Get it together, will you?"
He can't dance like Yunho. He can't rap like Yoochun. He isn't cute like Junsu. He doesn't have half the wit that Changmin does. He's the oldest, yet he's not th