And I'm back. Visiting Hell.

Kim Youngmin suggested I stop by his office the morning after NCTu's debut party. But by 'suggested', I mean he expected me to swing by, or else it will effect negatively on my debut. What he'll do, I'm not sure. Either way, I didn't want to risk finding out.

The CEO waited for me in the exact same position as last time, not a hair out of place. I've always had the impression that he was a perfectionist who didn't settle for anything less than his own standards. Everything from his office, to the artists he'd chosen for SM suggested that there was no room for error.

"Come, take a seat," Youngmin gestured to the stiff sofas. I shook my head politely, determined not to stay longer than necessary.

"It's alright, I have to meet with Nahyun before she leaves with her members. I didn't anticipate for us to have a long chat," I said, carefully lowering my voice. It was the voice high school students used with their teachers when they didn't want to be moved away from their friends.

"Fair enough. I just wanted to check in on you and make sure you're doing alright. I heard you left early last night with Johnny while everyone else was counting down," he said noncholantly, as if talking about the weather. But his undertone was clear: be careful how you respond. A slip up was something I couldn't afford, not when I'm so close to debuting.

"The room was getting hot since everyone was so close to the projector. I wasn't feeling very well, so Johnny took me out to get some air," I said.

"Has he been treating you well?" Youngmin glances at me, eyes calculating and alert.

"Well, yes he has. We understand each other fairly well,"

"Good, good. I hope no one is bullying you or giving you a hard time,"

"Everyone is very supportive and kind," instead of lying, I'll call it bending the truth. Was everyone supportive? No, but at least no one went out of their way to trouble me. Except perhaps myself.

"Very good, that's exactly the kind of healthy atmosphere we want to be promoting in the company. This way it'll be a lot less stressful for everyone. But anyways, you mentioned there were some changes you wanted to make to your album?"

"Yes. I'd like to change its entire concept,"

The CEO arched a questioning brow, clearly not expecting this suggestion. He nods for me to go on.

"I've thought about it, and it just doesn't make sense for me to sing songs surrounding love and picture perfect relationships when I've never experienced either. I'd like my album to mean something to me, and to others as well,"

"What would you like the new conept to be?"

I took a deep breathing. If Kim Youngmin didn't like my answer, he could potentially cast me aside and take away all the opportunities I've been working to earn up till now. It could't end like that, it can't.

"Anxiety and stress,"

Silence.

I decided to go on, sure he's already made up his mind about me.

"It's something I've been struggling with, ever since I was little. I know that because of it, I ended up making many poor decisions that impacted my life negatively, not only in past and also since I've come to SM. With experience on the topic under my belt, I'm sure that I can produce music that will make people feel something, whether they have personal connections with anxiety or not. I'd be honored if you would allow me to pursue the kind of music that touches the soul," I said, bending over in a 90 degree bow. I'm afraid to look up, afraid that at this moment, all my hardwork would amount to nothing.

"Kiara,"

I don't dare to get up.

"Kiara, look at me," ever so slowly, I do as he says.

"When are you planning to debut?"

"A month from now,"

"How long did it take for you to produce your current songs, record, learn the new dances, do the album photoshoots, and create your first album?"

"A little over four months," my heart sank as I understood what he was getting at.

"As a rookie, it's understandable that your first album would take so long to make. What makes you think that you can repeat the steps over only the course of one month?"

I press my lips in a firm line, wishing to disappear.

"I don't wish to discourage any of my artists from pursuing music that they love, but perhaps you should give it a little more thought. But of course by then, you would have already debuted," those old feelings of foolishness resurfaced as a weakness; I clearly remembered Anxiety using it to destroy my psyche in the past. Would I succumb to its taunting remarks all over again?

"I'm sorry for suggesting it. I should've thought this over before seeking your permi-"

"However," he cuts me off, "this is just my opinion from the recent behavior you've displayed. I'm not blind, Kiara. The company has eyes and ears everywhere, monitoring what all of its employees do. Especially you, Kiara. Your past had been the talk of the company even before you came. They all know everything about you. From your successes, to some of your ugliest moments. I know you're suffering mentally; I've known from the beginning. Your not-so-secretive regurgitation sessions have been reported to me. I hear you speak to yourself sometimes, as if someone else was really there listening. Call it cruel and unusual, but I wanted to see how you'd fare in the midst of all the pressure. I wanted to find out how strong your resolve was to succeed, how it would hold up against your doubts. To be honest, I didn't expect you to last a week. Do you have any idea how many people like you have been accepted into SM? More than I can remember. We scout out a whole group of young, talented, children who hold boundless potential, yet are hindered from their own mental disorders. Many like you, who've never received the medical attention that they needed. Perhaps this played a role in their end results, but we couldn't let news of any artists receiving therapy to get out to the public. It's always better to leave it unattended until the disease shatters them entirely. The competiton in the entertainment agency is out of control; yet, that's what keeps it thriving. These statistics never go out to the public, but the homicide and suicide rates blow other professions out of the water. Kiara, do you know what always ends up happening to rookies I accept with mental ilnesses?" Youngmin asks, face stone cold.

I shake my head.

"They never make it. Whether they commit suicide first, or volunteerily leave is up to them. Unfortunately, those rookies were always the brightest of the bunch: the most talented of the talented. Up until now, everyone in the company believed that it was impossible to debut a rookie who's mentally unstable. Why do you think everyone took such an interest in you when you first joined? Why do think they still do?" his voice unintentionally mocked me to no ends- or perhaps it was intentional: I didn't know this new psychopath in front of me.

All this time I thought I was being secretive with my daily trips to the bathroom, vomiting my insides out. I believed that they approached me with caution because their CEO saw something in me. Of course, it was never this way. How could I have been so ignorant? Did they perhaps know everything about me? I felt in a way that clothes could never cover up, exposed with my life events for everyone to pick up and read- something they'd already done. 

"How...could you? And why? What could telling everyone about my past, my mental instability possibly do for your company? I'm easily replacable by many other rookies. There's no reason to do all of this," I reasoned. The flood of information hit me with an impact so overwhelming that I found myself struggling to breathe, throat dry with the promise of tears.

"Oh but there is! Even with past trial and error, we can't give up on you just yet. Putting everything else aside, your talents simply cannot be ignored. Do you know why each person has a role in a band? Because someone has to be the lead singer, dancer, rapper, and the less talented people just follow behind. But with you, the fans are given the whole package! Why bother supporting a group when everything is present in one individual? We haven't had a hit soloist debut in too long, and I plan to make you the next new thing. So to answer your question, I spread your life story around because it was necessary. No one can judge properly and objectively without getting the whole picture. When I have people reporting back to me, they carefully craft what they'll say according to their own thoughts. At least when they know more about you, their answers will be closest to the truth and I'll receive the most accurate responses," Youngmin smiled proudly, as if what he said made sense to anyone other than himself.

"You're wrong," I whisper, barely audible. The CEO arches an eyebrow. "You say that no one with a mental instability has ever survived SM, but you're living proof of it. How ironic, the person running the puppet show has the mind of a lunatic. You, the CEO, purposely recruit rookies that you anticipate will suffer silently, going crazy in their own minds until they simply cannot bear it any longer. I can honestly see in your eyes that you don't hold even a tinge of regret. In your twisted mind, it's all just a means of finding the most talented individuals who will make you the most money. Because that's what it all comes down to. Nevermind the endless suffering that these tortured souls go through. Of course, what can I expect from a sociopath that doesn't even harbor the tinest bit of empathy towards others? You, who has never been through a panic attack, who has never experienced first hand the horror of living in a mind you can never escape. Even now, these words mean nothing to you, because you'll always believe in the erted cause that some how seems acceptable," I'm yelling now, screaming out all the pent up frustration I'd been forced to hole up. I find myself digging up more, adding fuel to the fire. It felt so good, so satisfying to let everything out. If I hadn't relieved myself then, I would've ended up like the rest of his failed experiments. Because that's all they ever were to him: play things for him to test out, easily at his disposal. Yet, knowing that they wouldn't last, how could he fill those rookies up with empty hope? I couldn't justify it any other way besides that he enjoyed it. Perhaps he wanted so badly to feel in control of this company, that he felt the need to implant puppets with an inevitable fate: simply to have the comforting feeling that he can predict their end. The idea leaves me nautious and sick, terrified that I had come to such a conclusion with my own twisted mind. Did this mean I was thinking the same way as Kim Youngmin? Was I a sociopath just as much as he was, without realizing it?

I could feel in my heart that at any moment, I would fall into a panic attack. The feeling of anticipation was almost worse than the actual experience: just simply knowing that it's inescapable. Will I ever be strong enough to fight off my own mind?

I relapse.