Final

I walk out of the bathroom feeling clean and refreshed after washing off the cake of makeup on my face. I walk by Siwan as he enters the bathroom, marveling at his face and his features. As I walk into my shared room, I see Hyungsik fast asleep. I’m even amazed at how handsome he is, even after seeing him every single day.

I sit in front of our vanity and stare at my reflection. I’m always in wonder every single time I see myself in the mirror, because I’m beautiful. My confidence shines through because I know, that on the outside, I am good looking. All of South Korea admits that my looks are supreme.

And then it falls. My confident façade falls, and all I’m staring at in the mirror is me. All I see is ugly. There is nothing beautiful that I see in the mirror. I only see someone that looks like me. And I hate it.

Knowing my company would never debut me as an actor, I was always very vocal about having done plastic surgery to become an idol. Because why not? In an industry full of beautiful people, there had to be someone that wasn’t completely natural. To top it off we were rookies, we had to get noticed somehow. So my decision came. I was noticed and so was my group.

But then came the tag that followed my admission of cosmetic surgery. I was known in the industry as the Plastic Idol. I gained fans, I gained admirers and I also gained anti-fans.

I was always so happy on variety shows. But having to recite the same thing every single time about having plastic surgery, got tiring. They always called me the Plastic Idol; I called myself the Plastic Idol. It’s not something I was proud of. I would always joke about it but every single time I or a variety show host called me by my tag, a part of me died every single time.

Fans supported me for being brave, for being funny. But then the anti-fans brought me down. They said I wasn’t human anymore because of all the plastic surgery that I did. They said people like me promoted an evil that sent a message to people to never accept their natural self. I was also told to kill myself numerous times. They called me vain because I was so open about cosmetic surgery and that I only seemed to care about my outer appearance.

But they don’t understand what I went through. All the pain, all the suffering I had to go through. Plastic surgery wasn’t painless. It hurt. It hurt so much that I wished I could just die instead. The pain was unbearable. And I hated myself. I hated myself so much. I hated myself because I wasn’t good enough. That I wasn’t good looking enough to debut as myself.

To top it off, I was put into an idol group with members that were all naturally good looking. How could I compete with them? I wasn’t a good singer, nor was I a good dancer. I was there, because I looked good. Even still, I was the ugliest member of the Children of Empire.

To this day, I silently cry into my pillow so that nobody hears, so that nobody knows. I look in the mirror again and the guy in my reflection reaches his hand to his face, a single teardrop trickling down.

“I’m beautiful. Right?”

A/N: Hey guys! It's been a while. I hope you like this story! The inspiration came from watching ZE:A's appearance on Hello on KBS. It came from reading the hateful comments that people directed at Kwanghee. I guess some people people forget idols are humans too and that they have feelings. I personally applaud Kwanghee because he's brave and he's strong.

Anyway! Thanks for reading. Again I hoped you guys enjoyed and please subscribe!

P.S.: I have a new fic that will be coming out. It's a spy fic, so I hope you guys are looking forward to it!