Exactly how many Kpop stars are under SM entertainment? Hundreds. Hundreds more than the public sees, hundreds more than the people expect, and hundreds more that never get the chance to debut. I tell myself over and over again that I won't just become another statistic. That the company has plans for me. Huge plans, that'll definitely come to fruition as long as I play my part. But what if I'm not doing enough? You're not doing enough. What if they realize I'm a hopeless case? They will. Where is the line I need to pass? You'll never find it. 

*                                             *                                             *

With the first concert only a couple days away, Tayong and I work endlessly to perfect our routine. There was so little time to give it my all and show everyone what I'm really capable of. Thousands of eyes will be watching us for those three minutes and twenty-six seconds. Having experienced this before, Taeyong wasn't the least bit nervous. He was still much more skilled than I was, so Reality told me to practice more. 

"Look at you Kiara! How many times have you practiced that move? Taeyong was able to get it the first time, so why can't you on the hundredth?" Reality sighed, reclining on the practice floor.

"I don't know," I muttered, willing my body to move in the same fashion as Taeyong, "I just...I'll get it soon,"

"How many times have you told yourself that? Stop saying these senseless things," he scoffed.

The night had fallen so late, a hint of purple was peaking up in the sky. Early morning creeped up while I had wasted away the hours practicing uselssly. What improvements had I made anyways? None. There was no other answer. Reality was right; he always was.

"I'm going to bed," I told him, feeling lightheaded.

"Yes, go sleep your pain away. I'll meet you in your nightmares," he cackled, dissipating into thin air.

I screamed. Reality was driving me insane! Arms that had gone bony and translucent swung wildly and aimlessly. They struck at my head, the floor, whatever they could reach. Those were my arms, no different than a ghost's. I couldn't quite see them anymore. My howls rang throughout the room, savagely like a loose animal. The logical side of me urged me to save my voice with the concert so close. But I didn't care. Couldn't care anymore.

Something wet hit my cheeks. At first, some part of me thought the room was raining. But those were tears that spilled onto the ground, salty and heavy. How much more of this could my fragile self endure? Me, who has never left the safe comforts of a quiet home. Me, who was always under the wings of my parents.

"What's taking so long Kiara? You need to sleep. I'm waiting for you," Reality mumbled into my ear.

"Please just go away," I whispered, "I want to be alone,"

"What friends have you made since you came to Seoul? Everyone here either admires you or wants to see you fall. You're too different from them so they avoid you. Sweet Kiara, you've always been alone," Reality cackled, gripping my face in his cold hands.

"Why does it have to be like this?" I asked his eyes.

"The answer is simple: so you can survive," Reality wrenched my mind apart and watched me fall into a dark abyss.

*                                    *                                  *

"We'll be going near the end after Exo. Mr. SM said something about 'saving the best for last'. Don't be nervous. You'll do great," Taeyeong assured me, offering a warm smile. I nodded, not knowing what else to do. The makeup artist called him over for some quick touch ups, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

It was the first day I'd be performing alongside the other rookies and even debuted artists on the same stage. The first day I am to be revealed as a rookie under SM. A small part of me desperately hoped that ohmma and appa weren't watching on the small tv that sat on the kitchen counter.

Everyone was gathered backstage in preparation for the show that'd soon start. Red Velvet was going quickly running through their dance, Shinee was noncholantly chatting about the upcoming performances, SNSD helped aid the backstage noonas, and the rookies were all standing nervously in anticipation. One word that perfectly summed up SM Entertainment was 'busy'. Other than the occasional glance from an envious rookie, we all barely paid attention to each other. Although we were physically so close, each person was in a world of their own. 

Reality lurked behind me, shaking his head when I glanced over. Thump thump. Disapproval yet again. Why should I care what he thinks? Because he's always right. He's not even real. He's as real as the hand that's clenching your throat. My breath hitched as I felt Reality's hands wrap themselves around my neck. I shook him away as hard as I could, prying his bony fingers off of me. Why wasn't anyone coming to my aid? Surely they could see this monster trying to kill me. But all I received were blank stares. Looks of bewilderment, of confusion. Some even of disdain. They pointed over at the strange girl making a scene. Who was she to be so melodramatic right before the performance? Everyone has their own worries that preoccupy them. You're not so special. 

"Kiara!"

Taeyong rushed over to pry hands that had unknowingly been clawing at my neck away. Underneath were large, ugly claw marks that stretched from the base of my chin to the collarbone.

"I don't think you're fit to perform. I'll take you to the hospital," he whispered, taking my hand. In a moment of blind emotions, I slapped him across the face. Someone else had taken control of my body.

"Who are you," it said, "to decide that for me?"

He stared at me in complete shock. I turned to the makeup artist who was just with him.

"You," I pointed at her, then gestured to my neck, "fix this."

The lady nodded hesitantly, just as surprised as everyone else. If the people in SM didn't hate me before, they definitely hated me now. I could already see people adverting their eyes when I would approach. I could hear the ugly stories being passed around, both true and untrue mixing together. 

The makeup artist worked quickly and was clearly trying to touch me as little as possible. When I flinched from the pain, she profusely apologized and worked even faster. 

"Please," I finally said, "you don't need to be so nervous around me,"

The lady nodded, working slower but still very much unsettled being so close.

"It wasn't me out there," I whispered, afraid Reality would silence me. She stopped, watching me as I adverted my gaze. There was so much shame and self loathing that were far too aparent if she looked into my eyes directly.

"Honey, what happened?" she asked tenderly. I wanted to tell her so badly and just spill all of my worries and thoughts onto her. But Reality reached into my mouth and held my tongue, mercilessly smiling in delight.

So I cried instead, allowing myself to find comfort in her warm embrace. The kind lady didn't say anything, only held me tighter when my voice became hoarse. I couldn't tell her my story, not yet when there was so much more of it that I would suffer.