Cameras flash here…

“Look here Ms. Kim!!”

“Ms. Kim!!”

 Flash there…

“HYUNA SHI!!!”

“IT’S KIM HYUNA!!”

"Hyuna!! Please! Just one fast shot please!!"

"I'm your biggest fan Ms. Kim!!"

 Flash everywhere.

“Just one shot! Please!”

"Oh My God! Is that- Oh My God!"

"Is that really her? dude, slap me! Tell me I'm not dreaming!!"

"HYUNA NOONA!!"

"Please smile for the camera!"

“Hyuna! Hyuna! Ms. Hyuna!!”

 It was always like that for two whole years. Two years of fame and success. I’ve prayed and prayed and prayed to God that it would never end. I never want it to end, why? Simple… everyone loves me, admires me, wants me and accepts me. Isn’t that what everyone wants?

Fame. I was known as an A class model. Photographers and Designers chase me everywhere just to get me walk on their runway or stood in their white room and pose.  I was chased! Can’t you believe that?!? I get phone calls from different photographer and designers.

Jimmy Choo, Yves Saint Laurent, Guccio Gucci… They’re just one of the many designers who called me personally just to make me walk down on their runway.  Pathetic, but that’s reality. I was wanted, loved and cared for.

I dated a billion dollar Chinese business man. Got everything I want, spoiled to death. Traveled everywhere. So basically, I became the queen of the world. I became more popular, admired, envied and the list goes on and on. Girls cried on their knees when we made the announcement that we are getting married. Imagine the big smile that has been imprinted on my face during those times. I felt like I’m on top of the world.

An important gem everyone wanted to steal, keep and cherish forever.

But guess what? Nothing stays the same. Absolutely, nothing. It all started five months ago. Five months ago, I was the future Mrs. Kris Wu. Five months ago, it was my wedding day. Five months ago, Kris was murdered. Then I lose it.

I went out partying, drinking, flirting, and sleeping around. I forgot about the paparazzi. I forgot about the gossip writers. That’s because I didn’t listened to my parents. I left them.  Because I refuse to listen to them, because I was devastated.

Then goes all of my pictures with different men in different club every night, circling around the web. Stories of me being wild after my ex fiancé died. Stories of me around just because I’m finally free.  It was totally absurd. But guess what, all my friends believed it, felt ashamed and left me. And my fame? It went down the drain.

Now everybody hates me and threw me away. I hate this. People keep on judging me just because I lose myself. Just because I felt devastated for my fiancés death.

It was a just a mistake; a stupid-idiotic mistake.

I wanted to go back to my parents. But death keep’s on knocking on my love ones door. They caught a car accident. Our neighbors said they caught an accident when they tried to go to Seoul after reading all my fiasco in the newspaper. I scoffed left my mouth and sarcasm coated my tongue. Guess I’m still famous.

Then I’m all alone. No friends… No family… No lover…. No fame… The only things left are a couple of wons and my house.

I sighed as I stared at the knife on my hand and the rope tied on the ceiling. God… I’m becoming mental. I dropped the knife on the floor and sat beside it. What am I doing? Kris! God! Mom! Dad! Help me! Someone.. please.  Just like that, I spent the whole day crouching beside the knife as per usual. For three months, I was just like that.

Get a knife, stare at it, put it on my wrist, contemplate, cry, drop it dramatically and slid down beside it, waiting for a miracle to happen.

I just wanted my job back; all of my fame back. I want to clean my name. I want to stand up and try again. I want to live and breathe success again. I want everything back to normal. Please.

It was already twenty-two(10 pm) when I woke up. Smell of liquor passed my nose making me want to get up, get dressed and hit up a downtown club. I tried to resist the temptation of getting myself in the front page of the newspaper by hitting a club after centuries but… I need this. I stood up and shakily walked towards the bathroom.

After some time, I finally reached a downtown club. It was filled with rowdy teens with growling hormones wanting to be noticed and the smell of sweat, alcohol and filled the air. I walked my way towards the high metal bar stools and sat down on the middle. “Mart-“I stopped and took a deep breath. Try something new, idiot. “Greygoose and cranberry, please.” I said, my breath shaky.

The bartender came back holding a small shot of my fruity drink. Once he laid it down in front of me, my hands immediately wrapped itself around it. It’s cold. I took small sips of it, it taste fruity. I love it instantly.

“Another one please.” I said again and again as the night passed through. What happened next? I don’t know. But I do hope someone finds my corpse. 

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