Mirror, tell me something...

She sat in the van, letting the manager do his job in getting her to the destination of her shooting. At times like these, it was always quiet. Right now, she had her earbuds in each ear, listening to the soundtrack of a movie she had recently seen. She would talk to her manager at times, but it was only four in the morning. The sun had yet to peek through from the blanket of darkness that settled on Seoul, and she had wanted nothing more than to snuggle into her comforter like a normal 20-something year old would.

The reality was that she was an idol. Manufactured to wake up at ungodly hours of the day to do the job she had been assigned to do. To look fresh-faced, and not sleep deprived, as she arrived at jobs so that everybody around her would see her in a positive light. She had to wear a pleasant smile and greet her elders in the business, not only out of politeness and respect, but as a signal of seniority. She had to be active and engaging so that she wouldn’t get cut from a show for not having anything remotely interesting to say. She had to be social, when in all reality, she was shy and preferred the company of her older group mates so there was a security blanket there she could clutch onto.

She closed her eyes; it was probably the only way she was going to get another measly minute of rest before she had to look alive. For what reason was she doing this in the first place? She loved singing, without a doubt, but at times like this, she would start to question the worth of her dream. To slave away, going job to job, in this manner. But, she had always known that she wanted to do it. Ever since she and her sister had been scouted, ever since she had been in Wedding March, she had known it to be something she wanted to do. She watched as her sister trained endlessly to debut, wanting to do it herself as the years passed. So, no, she probably wouldn’t sacrifice anything with the position she was in now. She was proud to be where she was right now.

But, at times, she would look at herself and wonder if she was Krystal or Soo Jung. Krystal looked irrevocably chic, and had immovable charisma and confidence. Jung Soo Jung, however, was an introvert; shy and very uncomfortable. And sometimes, she wanted to revert back into that shell called Jung Soo Jung in public. She would always struggle with trying to be Krystal; fearless and cool Krystal. She knew that she wasn’t Krystal though, not at heart. She was fragile, soft-hearted Soo Jung on the inside. On the outside, Krystal liked to take over with her monochromatic outfits and stoic composure. When the people stare though, she’s not sure why Krystal likes to crack and revert back to Soo Jung, but she knew it was because she was always going to be just that: Jung Soo Jung. Emotionally sweet and endearing Soo Jung.

It was fine being around her friends, who know her in and out, and would try to empathize with her. But it was unnerving. She had never understood why anybody ever called her out for looking constantly upset when she was just dead nervous to the point that she would be shaking uncontrollably. The people around her could never really understand her. She would struggle and struggle, but never be completely satisfied with the outcome. And yet she tried so hard, and she continued to try hard constantly in hopes that the results would show. But she wasn’t cute and charming Sulli, nor was she the kind beauty Victoria. She wasn’t tomboyish and outgoing Amber. She wasn’t vocal powerhouse Luna.

She was Jessica’s younger sister.

She would always be behind her loving older sister; the same sister she wanted to always hold hands with and rely on because she would always be the person closest to her. She always wanted to call out to her older sister, but knew that she couldn’t at times. She was always so close, and yet so far away. It was the same for everyone. She would always want to stretch out for a hand to hold, and a person that could possibly understand her, but they weren’t always there. Krystal would stay intact, but Soo Jung would be crumbling. It was always difficult for her to open up, and as a result she would silently brood within herself. It wasn’t healthy, but she didn’t know anything else.

The result of that was Krystal.

Krystal was a free being, unbound by the restraints of anyone and anything. She could live through everything and anything without fright. She was strong, constructed of the strongest metal where knives would never make a scratch and bullets would be deflected. She was flawless, faultless; the one without even the slightest blemish onto her perfectly painted skin. Nothing could affect her. Nothing could hurt her. She wasn’t mortal.

“Soo Jung-ah, we’re here.”

She opened her eyes and shifted around to reach for her bag. She squeezed a pea-sized amount of hand lotion, from a tube that was clearly running out, into her hand and rubbed it in. She then took out her iPod, stopping the music, but activating the camera function. She the overhead light inside the car and took a look at herself.

She looked like Krystal.

She inhaled.

She wondered if the silence could agree with her since no one else was around.

Bag and iPod in hand, she stepped out of the car.

Tell me who's the loneliest of all?

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