I stared at the mirror,staring at my own reflection in a pensive silence. At times like these,I cannot help but appreciate how far I have come.How much I have accomplished despite all the hurdles that life seemed to graciously bestow upon me.

My eyes grazed my own features in the mirror.There wasn’t anything pretty about me,I was never the one who took people’s breath away just by being in the room. I had generic Asian features,that almost everyone possessed: Dark eyes,Dark hair and pale skin and a slender frame, nothing to set me apart from millions of other idols.

Yet here I was,one of the few Korean artists in the Japanese entertainment industry,lucky enough to be called ‘successful’.Phoenix.That was my stage name.Little does everyone know how apt it is for me.For I have literally risen from the ashes and given a second life.Sometimes I wonder if I was the same person I was ten years ago,blissfully unaware of the workings of the world when you are sixteen.How beautiful life is when you can trust anyone,how mellow it is,but you start hating the same life with the same passion when it turns against you.The bubbly, happy go lucky girl in me died somewhere and now I am just a bundle of nerves trying to prove herself behind an emotionless facade.

But it wasn’t always the desperation to prove myself that drove me to this point,more than anything, it was to get back at him that fuelled my inner fire.Every time I felt like giving up, his face swam before