"Do you ever take a day off?" I muttered to Reality, who, as always, enjoyed himself as he followed me in my everyday endeavors. He responded with a flick to me head, grating on my nerves.

"Hurry up and eat," he said. 

So I did. Routinely, I've also finished every meal by regurgitating all the contents in the bathroom, careful not to let anyone see. But even if they did, no one brought it up. This is how things always were at the company; everyone was too busy meddling in their own affairs to pay attention to others. We all suffered alone in silence.

My life had fallen into a steady pattern where day one matched day two. Everything passed in a blur as I woke up every morning to attend to the schedule Gyeong makes up for me. No one ever tells you about the dull, uneventful times of pre-debut Kpop stars. It's always the glamor, the fame, and all the dazzling aspects of life as a celebrity that is brought to the public eye. But isn't this what I've always wanted? Isn't this my dream? Millions of girls would give up everything in a heartbeat to replace my position at SM; I would've too, and I did. But those girls don't realize what it means to live the 'glamorous' life as a celebrity. What it really entailed. I didn't sign up to be labeled as overweight, or to practice for endless hours that left me fatigued and on the border of passing out. I didn't sign up to constantly have eyes trailing my every move, waiting for my human self to make the inevitable mistakes that would come. I didn't sign up to become a walking machine that was engineered to execute everything she was told to do. I didn't sign up for Reality to come back.

Maybe he really is reality, but my ignorant, naive self just refuses to acknowledge what this world is really about. We have to work hard, but even still, working hard isn't enough. Only when you've reached your limits will it be enough, and I learned that the hard way.

*                               *                                *

"No. Do it again," Taeyong sighed, shaking his head.

Whoever designed this choreography was insane. Even debuted artists had little chance of perfecting this dance, and yet, two rookies were put under the pressure of doing it. How Taeyong managed to learn the moves in a week baffle me to no ends.

I tried again, willing my body to move with the same grace Taeyong exalted. The beat pounded furiously over and over in my head, keeping my dance in tempo. One, two, three, one, two, three...

"Weren't you a ballerina? You lack even the most basic emotion for a dancer. In fact, your performance is becoming even more dull as you practice more. Let's stop for today," Taeyong said, stopping the music. Those four words snapped me back, panic falling over me in that familiar sheet. They meant we were done. That he'd given up on me. That I had, once again failed someone else's expectations.

"No, I'll try harder. Please, one more time," I pleaded, forcing myself to do as he asked. I pushed him aside to rewind the music and started once more. The unbearable feeling of his disappointment drove me to find more energy, more emotion, anything to wipe off the displeasure settled upon his face.

"I know you're tired. You're just wasting your time and energy at this point-"

"No! There's no way you'll change my mind. You have to stay and help me," I commanded. Mom always told me I had the stubborness of an angry mule that had just gotten its tail cut off. Her observation had never proven so true than at this moment, when I absolutely couldn't accept failure.

The startled look on his face froze him there. Four more hours passed where little was exchanged between us. Now and then, he'd offer some tips, but there was no longer any harsh criticism or disappointed words that left his lips. Reality surprisingly didn't say much either. On most days, I'd have to plead, sometimes near tears, for him to stop with the demoralizing whispers. Today he watched me emotionlessly.

Nonetheless, my determination persevered. If one method didn't work, I'd try another. I modified the pace, jumping between both extremes. I changed up the style, ranging from a more upbeat, hiphop style to even a softer, smoother ballad style until I found a middle ground that fit the mood of the dance. The scenary changed as well. My surroundings melted into a calm, summer day in a spring field with birds calling out my name and grass tickling the soles of my feet. It shifted to the bottom of a never ending ocean, where all sounds, smells, and tastes were dulled and everything moved in slow motion. Like the dance style, scenary found itself a middle ground where I imagined myself performing the song to its fullest extent.

"You're doing much better Kiara. I really do think we should pause for today. It's almost one in the morning," Taeyong said, offering a small smile.

"You...you're just saying that right? It's still not perfect, I can see it in your face," I said through heavy breathes.

"Of course it's not going to be perfect immediately. It'll take time and energy, which you don't have much of right now," Taeyong said calmly.

"I-"

He came over and looped one arm under my knees and used the other to hold my back, lifting me off the ground.

"What are you-" I began, only to be cut off.

"That's good for today Kiara. You've done well,"