“Miss? Can you hear me? ” these words interrupted my dreaming.

I blinked my eyes open and saw an unfamiliar woman standing over me, holding a clipboard. I felt groggy.

“Miss? The anesthesia is wearing off now. Can you hear me?” the lady said again. Goddamn, she had such an annoying voice.

Oh, anesthesia, you say?

A broad smile instantly grew on my face as I caught light of the situation. I knew exactly where I was.

“Yes, I can hear you loud and clear! Do you have anything to tell me, nurse?” I asked.

“Miss, I am pleased to inform you that your rhinoplasty was a success.”

Out of impulse, my hand instantly shot up to my nose. But that annoying lady grabbed it before I could feel my newly acquired beauty.

“Though the surgery was a success, I’m sorry to tell you that you can’t touch the bandages yet. It might dishevel the setting of the cartilage. I cannot stress that-“

“Yeah, yeah. I get it,” I groaned, “when do the bandages come off?”

“In three days time. You will need to stay in the hospital at least a day after they come off.”

Well, duh. I’m not going to go strutting around, boasting that I got myself a new nose. I do happen to have some dignity.

Three days later, the bandages came off to reveal my brand new nose and I was discharged from the clinic. I took extra precautions not to be seen. Those annoying Netizens could be anywhere. Move over rumors about celebrities, the world would wreak havoc if rumors of plastic surgery on an ex-celebrity started floating around.

But no matter, I have the elusive abilities of a god.

Driving under the sunny Seoul sun on a beautiful spring day was absolute bliss. The breeze shot through the slight openings of my Elantra and made my auburn hair fly. The corners of my mouth slightly turned upwards as I thought about lollipops and kittens. This had been happening lately, random thoughts about trivial things invading my mind…. just this morning I was thinking about cucumbers and the number 4039. I kind of like it. It adds to my new carefree nature.

Soon, I had pulled onto the driveway of my condo. After the contract ended, the company provided me with a year’s worth of payments. After the year ended, I’d have to figure out a way to pay for the mortgage, and damn, it was a pretty expensive condo.

It’s no big deal. I mean, I am the Tiffany Hwang, singer, model, idol.

At the though of the word ‘idol’, I felt my heart shatter into a million irretrievable bits.

There, it was again. A mood swing. The turn of my emotional pendulum. I collapsed onto the steps leading up to my main door. I bunched myself up into the smallest humanly possible ball and let the tears that suddenly developed in my eyes, overflow down my cheeks.

What the hell did I mean, idol? I am a fu cking ex-idol! I’m a fu cking ex-singer, ex-model. I’m not anything anymore.

I once had everything. I once had a family. I once had friends. I once had a good life. What do I have now? Nothing but a crap load of money and a tarnished reputation. Then it dawned on me that money has no value.

So, basically, I had nothing.

I had no idea how long I sat there crying about how pathetic my life is, but when I finally shook myself out of it, the sky was a wonderful shade of cyan and I was suddenly bursting with happiness, with absolutely no recollection of the past few hours. I bounced into my condo and landed at the nearest mirror.

I examined my new nose. Obviously, the rhinoplasty was just a touch up to perfect my already perfect features. I had felt that my cartilage looked a bit uneven as of late and quickly booked an appointment with my favorite doctor.

Though my nose was a bit red, I deemed myself the symbol of perfection.

But as I stood there, examining my face, I found myself finding flaws in places that I just seconds ago saw flawless.

My skin had a patch that looked darker than the rest

My eyebrow line looked too close to my face.

My eye smile looked more wrinkly then elegant.

My jawline looked a little too defined.

Nothing a little surgery could fix.

After hard contemplation, I decided that my eyebrows needed the most urgent attention. I hastily booked an eyebrow lift for the next day and I was able to breath a little better.

It’s okay. I look perfect. And soon I’ll look beyond that and the world will need to create a new word to describe me. I, who am past perfection,

And just one month after I had had that panic attack in front of the mirror, I found myself standing in front of the same mirror, admiring my new beauty, now completely flawless and beguiling. It has taken process after process, countless face-lifts, chin augmentations, Lasik’s, and even a job to sculpt what I am now.

But still, I was not fully satisfied.

Staring back at me was the most exquisite face in the universe, but something was off about it.

I was stunning.

I was ravishing.

I was divine.

But, I looked nothing like Tiffany Hwang.

So who the hell was staring back at me?

I finally understood why so many people thought I was fake during my time with SNSD. All those years, I had laughed at the articles debating over the Netizens arguing over a picture.

Those desperate SONES would always say something like this,

“Oh, it’s just the angle of the picture!” or “Tiffany would never alter her looks, she’s a natural beauty.” “I’m really worried! Tiffany looks a little thin! Eat up honey!”

And the haters would comment,

“Just proves how fake SNSD is!” “Makes me want to throw up, role models for everyone?” “SNSD, my .”

And then my favorite commenter of all time would go,

“CALM YOUR TI TS EVERYONE, IT’S JUST THE LIGHTING OF THE DAMN PICTURE! P.S. SUPER JUNIOR WILL NEVER BE AS GREAT AS SNSD!!”

Well, I’m sorry Forever9Girls; I cannot calm my insanely large t it s. It wasn’t the lighting. I’m a fake bit ch. That’s right haters, you win.

I scoured the entire condo for pictures of my past. After digging into dozens of dusty boxes, I finally discovered an old, beat up album full of pictures of my family and me before my debut with SNSD. God, I was an ugly cow wasn’t I? No wonder I was so easily convinced into getting double eyelid surgery. And then into getting a jaw shaving. And then a rhinoplasty.

I finally realized why they say plastic surgery is like smoking. It’s fu cking addictive.

Once you get something done, the rest of your features become imbalanced. So you get some more procedures. And then some more.

Until you look nothing like yourself.

And I’m a living example.

After seven, or maybe seventeen, shots of soju sitting on the couch, mindlessly staring at the blaring T.V, I entered my happy stage.

I started craving papayas and obsessing over handsome Scottish cows.

But the second I started wishing I could stay in that awesome mood forever, I jumped out of it and entered my pissy, but intelligent, stage.

After a quick investigation of my options, I made an impromptu decision and dialed my favorite plastic surgeon. Instead of booking an appointment, I made it clear to the receptionist that I’d be at the office in 20 minutes and expected to have a consultation with the doctor.

Nineteen minutes later, I was sitting in Dr.Kim’s office, tapping my fingers on the desk impatiently. A few moments later, he entered, smelling like silicone.

“Sorry, I just finished up my last appointment,” he said. “What can I do for you, Ms. Hwang? My secretary said you wanted a consultation?”

“Yes. Dr. Kim. I don’t know what to do. I hate how I look!”

“What do you mean? You look beyond amazing to me! I still can’t believe I was able to sculpt such beauty!”

“That’s exactly the problem! God, I look too perfect! It’s unnatural! I should have realized this before, but I don’t look anything like myself anymore!” I said exasperatedly

“I see, what would you like me to do?” he asked, but I felt like he was mocking me.

“CHANGE ME BACK! I WANT TO LOOK LIKE MYSELF AGAIN! I CAN’T STAND IT ANYMORE!” I was raging now.

“Don’t worry Ms. Hwang, of course I can do it! People ask for reversals all the time! Let me just get your files.” He said.

I sighed in relief. Everything would work out.

“Yah, Park So Hee, get me Ms. Hwang’s medical records.” He ordered through the phone.

Seconds later, the manila envelope was emptied and my mistakes laid out in front of me. Soon, I’d fix them all.

“Ms. Hwang.” said Dr. Kim

I looked up at him, with a huge grim on my face.

“So. Can you do it?” I asked.

“Ms. Hwang. As much as I love operating you, uh, I hate having to tell you this. But, um.”

“BUT WHAT? Can’t you do the surgery?” Fear overcame my body.

“It’s not that I can’t. I absolutely can. It’s just that I’m not allowed.”

“What the hell do you mean?”

“Ms. Hwang. I regret to inform you that you have reached the number of cosmetic surgeries allowed by the government. Any further procedure would be deemed unsafe and illegal.”

Well, looks like my ti ts need some more calming. 

After a few moments of flipping the desk over, swearing like the end of the world, and accidently taking out the doctor’s eye, I finally got a hold of myself.

“Exactly how many times have I gone under the knife?” I asked cautiously.

“138 times.” Dr. Kim replied solemnly.

“So, you’re saying that I’m stuck like this forever?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Well, I guess that there’s nothing that I can do.” And with that, I calmly got up, bid the doctor goodbye, and walked out.

I thought about nothing on the drive back home, but once I got their

I came up with two choices.

I could change my identity and start anew.

Or.

I could accept the fact that I was a fake and just deal with it.

But as I sat on the couch staring into space, wondering which to choose, a brilliant idea came upon me.

No doctor would take me. But I’ve been had so many procedures done, I could probably do it myself. I’ve survived 138, what’s the harm in another?

This idea scored me a silicone kit, a couple Botox injections, and some other instruments through a contact in the black market.

When the stuff arrived, I was faced with another dilemma. I had no idea how to do a reversal procedure. However, all the confusion suddenly disappeared when a new thought came to mind.

I don’t need to do a reversal. Why the fu c k do I want to turn back into an ugly piece of sh it anyway? Hell, I’ll use this stuff to make look even more breathtaking!

I decided to start by doing a bit of jaw shaving to thin and smooth out my face. The first cut hurt like a bi tch even with numbing cream, but I set my mind to going through with this and continued the incision. Bit by bit, I whittled the bones on my left side. Then I copied it onto my right side.

After stitching my face back together, I looked at my reflection. My face looked distorted, but being high off of the that came with the stuff, I failed to see it and thought I was beautiful. Stupid me.

I moved on to my eyebrows. They seemed too close to my eyes. I considered what I could do to fix this and came to a simple verdict. I was already in enough pain from the jaw shaving, so I took an easier approach. After heating up some wax, I tore my eyebrows off clean with a couple yanks of waxing strips. Then, using tweezers and pliers, I implanted artificial hair of various colors onto my forehead to my hearts desire.

I ended giving myself a unibrow, but I was 100% content with it.

Nodding at the mirror, I injected a bit of Botox into the corners of my eyes and the sides of my mouth. I winced a bit when my tipsiness led me to poke the needle through my stiches, but quickly got over it.

Eventually, I had only procedure left to do. I debated whether I needed to actually do it or not, but my insanity overcame my good conscious.

And that is when I started jamming silicone into my s.

Basically, I would ram the syringe in random places and pump in the transparent and viscous jelly. Soon, my left was larger than my head and I was trying to make my right one match up.

I started getting frustrated. The s were suffocating each other and I couldn’t tell if they were equal sizes. The second my right would look as big as my left, it seemed as if my left one shrunk. Ultimately, I became so frustrated that I plunged both syringes into my s and watched as my s inflated. Slowly, they grew bigger and bigger.

And then my s exploded.

It took me a while to grasp the situation and when I did I started laughing like a hyena. I laughed at the bloody silicone that was splattered around the walls. I laughed at my multicolored forehead. I laughed at my nail-less fingers. I laughed at my hilarious attempt at Botox. And then I spotted the piece of flesh swinging back and forth on the grandfather clock’s pendulum.

For some reason, watching the clock turn back and forth snapped me out of it.

I looked down at my pitiful body. My s looked like exploded volcanoes and I was bleeding heavily. I think I could even see my weak heart trying to beat through this lunacy.

Was I that low self-esteemed to have to reduce my self to this?

I thought I was making myself beautiful, but I ruined myself instead.

I even destroyed my eye smile, which was my most beautiful and actually natural feature. The feature that everyone loved. The feature I was proud of.

With every damn surgery, I became uglier, both inside and out.

What the f uc k have I done?

Distaste ran through my body, and as it traveled down my spine, I watched myself bleed out completely.

But, even with my all the s hit I had put it through, my poor heart was still trying to beat, softly and feebly.

Maybe it was trying to tell me something.

I would never know.

An unidentified body was found drastically mutilated by a local resident’s dog in a condo near south Seoul. Authorities believe that the body belongs to Hwang Mi Young, who the condo was registered to. However, a dental identification will be conducted soon. Until then, we have no idea whether or not the distinguished and beautiful Tiffany Hwang, member of the ex-girl group Girls’ Generation and it’s sub unit TaeTiSeo, was the unfortunate victim of this strange tragedy.  

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A/N OKAY OKAY OKAY I'M SORRY FOR SUCH A STUPID CHAPTER. I spent days on it and it still turned out like crap. Think of it as a comedy chapter of some sorts to lighten the mood. Like comic relief.

Also, I would like to make it clear that I have no opinions on plastic surgury and SNSD. I have no reason to doubt or trust them on that issue. I am neutral. And frankly, I don't care if they got it or not. What's it to me anyway? So, please take no insult in this chapter.