Room D1134. Also known as "Directly into Hell". Like Hell, once you're summoned, there's no escape door to turn to. Needless to say, no one enjoyed being called. 

Like anyone else, I approached the room while dragging my feet behind me. If you're life was going smoothly, Youngmin would never call you to his office. With the recent incidents, I'm more surprised that he didn't call for me earlier. 

Right as I reach for the door handle, the knob twists by itself, and another figure emerges.

Taeyong jumps, a reaction for more exaggerated than the situation calls for. His pupils dilate ever so slightly, and the surprise on his face subsides. "Ah, Kiara ssi! Did you get called as well?"

"Yes. Did you have business here too?" I ask politely. 

"Oh, you know. NCTu will be debuting very soon, so we were just discussing...a couple scheduling issues that came up. You know how busy everything gets on debut week. I'll see you around then," Taeyong said hastily, not waiting for my response. He fast walks away, either eager to distance himself from Youngmin's office, or unwilling to talk to me. Probably both.

I enter into Hell.

"Kiara! Please, have a seat dear," Youngmin said warmly, gesturing to the plush couches near the coffee table. I bow respectfully and do as he says. Although everything lavishing his office is of the finest quality, the couch felt stiff under my weight. Gyeong had warned me of the air in Youngmin's office; how it was so thin, not suitable for inhalation. I never thought it would be to this extent.

"I never got a chance to tell you, but I was very, very impressed with your performance during the concert. You were absolutely stunning. I have no doubt that everyone's eyes were glued to you for the entirety of the dance," Youngmin praised, a proud smile spreading across his face. It was one not unlike a teacher adoring his student. As if he was the one to push me forward, to get me where I am today. Even though he was the one to accept me into SM, I could hardly give the man that much credit.

But I nodded respectfully, keeping my head low. "Thank you, sir,"

"Darling, you've excelled so far beyond anyone's expectations, and that takes dedication. Everyone knows how hard you work, but I don't want you to overdo it, alright? If you're not feeling well, don't push yourself. We're all here for you, so if you're ever struggling with anything, do feel welcome to tell me," he put his hand over my own, staring into what felt like my soul. Of course, I didn't believe him for a moment. I couldn't trust Gyeong, Taeyong, Nahyun, and I certainly couldn't trust a power hungry individual like himself. If my health wasn't at its full height, Youngmin would be the one to suffer the most financially. My stalks would go down, and less people would invest in my future. In the minds of businessmen, a sick dog is as good as a dead dog. Without its energy and loyalty, the animal was useless to its owner.

"Thank you for your concern. I'll take your words with great consideration," I said, "it's a pleasure to know that you have my best interest in mind," sometimes you just have to say what others want you to say.

Youngmin laughed. At least, I think it was a poor attempt at a laugh. The low rumble more likely resembled a practiced noise that strained his vocal cords. It wasn't something I'd like to hear again.

"Kiara, you know I've never been so invested in any of my artists like this before. You hold a special place in here," he pointed to his chest, the place his heart would be if it existed, "I'm esctatic to see how you'll bloom when you debut. And trust me, I'm not the only one. I've told my closest business partners about you. Many of them are preparing modeling as well as commercial contracts for you. They know that I can spot talent from over a mile away, and you were no exception. I've never been wrong,"

"I look forward to your future plans, sir," not that I had a choice. Entertainment companies never allowed their artists to decide what they can and can't do. Youngmin spoke of the contracts as if I was going to review and look over them myself, perhaps just in a comforting gesture. He wanted to feel as though I was given more freedom, when the reality is that I'm no different than his other favorites.

"I know you're very busy, so let me just leave you with one last note: I'm depending on you, Kiara. You're success will impact a lot more people than just yourself. Know that if you fail, it won't just be on you. Remember to take care of yourself well," he ended on a happy note, waving me away.

Not wanting to bear another minute in his office, I bowed quickly and left.

*                                            *                                               *

"89 pounds, Eleven pounds lost," the weight lady called. Everyone in the room focused on my figure. Although my body was hidden under heavy layers of sweatpants and a hoody, they scrutinized me under their gazes- where had all the fat gone? Many whispered in not-so-hushed voices, wondering aloud if I had manipulated the scale. 

Over the past couple months, I'd been hiding my progress with not so flattering clothes. It was like a transformation. How did the ugly little caterpillar transform into a magnificent butterfly?

"She must be taking pills,"

"I bet she does drugs. I heard antidepressants help you lose weight,"

"She's totally lying to us. Following the diet plans and exercise? Bull. Everyone does that. She definitely has another secret,"

I push the ugly rumors to the back of my mind, careful to control my own thoughts. It's lunch time. Time to eat. I remind myself that jealousy is an ugly emotion to harbor, and it's even worse to succumb to it. 

"Just ignore them and follow your schedule," I mumble to myself. A couple snickers escape from behind me. I remind myself to ignore those too.

I wander into the crowded cafeteria to order my diet plan meal. It's mostly just rookies on diets that eat here, but a couple debuted artists are sprinkled among the masses. The weight loss trainers insisted that it wasn't necessary for me to follow the company's diet meals. But at the end of the day, it doesn't matter what I consume: most of it never gets digested anyways.

"Unni!!" I hear Nahyun's shriek before she comes crashing into me, nearly knocking us over.

"Nahyun ah," I breathed, suffocated from her merciless hug. 

"Omo you were sooooooooo cool!! Did you see everyone's reactions?! After she called out your weight, everyone's eyes were practically bulging out of their heads! Some were jealous, some even whispered awful things, but they can't deny that you did it. They can talk all the smack they want about you, but in the end you still have what they don't-"

I clamped shut. "Shhhhh not so loud! People are giving us strange looks,"

"Sorry, I'm just really really excited," Nahyun whispered, flashing me her signature cheesy grin. I returned it, and it felt natural. It wasn't stiff and forced, like at Youngmin's office. The girl could lighten everyone's mood around her. As cringey as it sounds, she really deserved the title of a 'happy virus'.

"To be honest, I'm jealous as well. What I would give to find out your secret...have you told anyone yet?" Nahyun pried.

"Nope, it's my most important secret. I wouldn't give it up for the world," I smiled smugly, sticking my tongue out playfully.

"Unni~ I'm dying to know," Nahyun performed her best aegyo, and even I had to admit it was cute.

"Nice try kid, but my lips are sealed,"

Nahyun scrunched her nose, which on anyone else, would've looked unattractive. "Hm, fine. But are you still going to lose weight? You're already one of the thinnest among all of us,"

"One can never get 'too thin' right before they debut," I wink at her.

The line moved quickly, and we each picked up our respective meals that SM issued for us. "Omo, what do we do...Taeyong's sitting with s!" Nahyun pointed, burrying her face in my shoulder.

"Do you want to sit with them?" I asked, watching the blush creep onto her cheeks. She nodded hesitantly, still keeping her position close to my back.

But it turns out that I didn't need to initiate any awkward conversations. Taeyong spotted us nearly immediately, and waved us over. "Kiara ssi! Over here!" he called.

*                                     *                                           *

"I'll see you guys around. Thanks for letting us sit with you," I said to Taeyong. He nodded and smiled back, but a hint of worry gleamed in his eye. Is he suspicious of what I'm about to do?

I head near Gyeong's room until I'm sure Taeyong's eyes are no longer following me, then I run to the bathroom. If I wait too long, the food would've already digested in my stomach. 

I wait till the other girl finishes her business before starting mine; it could get quite messy. After doing it for months, purging my meals has become as easy as eating them. I plant my knees firmly in front of the toilet, hovering over it. I start gagging, relishing the familiar feeling right before the bile comes out-

"Kiara! Kiara! Open the door!" someone bangs on my door repeatedly, and it take me a moment to register the voice.

"Taeyong? What are you doing, this is the girls bathroom. You can't be in here," I said, getting up from my crouch.

"Please, just open the door! I know what you're doing in there, and it's not healthy. You're hurting yourself this way. Please, let me in," Taeyong said, the urgency unmistakable. I could feel my breathing hitch, and the overwhelming fear of being caught grew stronger with each bang on the door. 

"S-stop! Leave me alone!" I yelled, pressing my hands over my ears in an effort to drone out the noise.

"Kiara, what you're doing is wrong. Think for a moment, will you? You'll kill yourself this way. It's starvation,"

"You've become anorexic darling," I could hear Gyeong say softly, in that kind voice she used with me.

"Unni...why did I ever admire someone who has bulimia? Vomiting everything you eat isn't how you should treat yourself," Nahyun would say.

"Of course she's mentally unstable, anyone can see there's something wrong with her from the start,"

"This just shows how desperate she is to make it in the industry,"

"The combination of fatigue, a poor diet, and mental insanity won't make a successful idol,"

"Does she have any respect for herself?"

"No. No, no, no, no, no," I whisper, feeling heavy tears cloud my vision. I hear voices that aren't there, criticizing my every behavior. Why are they doing that? Why, when I'm trying so hard in my own way to succeed? No matter what I do, it's never enough to meet everyone's expectations. I have a ghost of everything I fear following me around, managing the way I live. I'm controlled by my fear of failure. Yet ironically, he's the only thing that I can find approval from.

"Kiara,"

I look up, and there he is, hovering over me.

"You're here?" I said, my voice hoarse from unshed tears.

"If you can't take it anymore, it's okay. No one will force you to continue when you can't," Anxiety said quietly, taking my hands in his cold ones, "I know that there are a lot of expectations placed on you. I understand because I can feel everything you go through. We can stop right now if you want,"

"I don't understand. What do you mean we can stop?" I laugh, a broken sound that dies in my throat, "I haven't even debuted yet. Shouldn't I be stronger?"

Anxiety shakes his head. "No one will blame you. You can walk away from all of this. Right...now," he places my hands over my own throat, and disappears as if he was never there.