Beauty is something one is blessed with, not something you achieve. The 'puberty-hits-you-like-a-truck  transformation' is a lie.

I believe that not everyone gets to be beautiful just because. There is no magical spell. Glow ups are fake. Rip apart the facade and you see the rot beneath. Plastic surgery is a lie perpetuated by people looking to make a quick buck by preying on other people's foolishness.

Having good genes certainly helps.

 But having good fortune to be free from any kind of disease that drastically alters your appearance and reduces you to a mere inhuman, repulsive shadow of your former glory...now that is a bit harder.

I speak from experience.

But I am getting ahead of myself, as usual.

My name is...well I probably don't have to tell you my name by now, huh? We've had this conversation before. 

But no matter, I don't mind repeating myself. I admire my voice, don't you?

And I like how my soft, smooth skin looks up close to the glass--no blackheads, no whiteheads, no acne.  Alabaster perfection. 

Few can rival me in looks. Very, very, very few.

 The fairest of them all, like the Snow White story.

My dear eyebrows too, and those long eyelashes. Remember those dark nights I spent crying my heart out, when I thought they were gone forever and all was lost?

 Those trademark thick lips. That winning smile.  

In short, the whole deal in one package that has men and women swooning at  me with a mere glance in their direction.

People don't even have to refer to me by name anymore. They've seen me on advertisements and commercials all over the world. 

To the  peasants, I am Mr Worldwide Handsome. Which is a good name, mind you. They're not as brainless as they seem.

To my business associates, contract makers and the army of s drooling at my feet, I am Mr Kim.

To you...I am me. Because you are me. My better half. My reflection.