Nothing is more miserable than losing yourself.

The sweat rolls down my neck as I breathe through my mouth, gasping for air. I smile and wave at the crowd in front of me. No matter how grateful I am for them, the hatred I have for myself outweighs everything. I bid them a good-bye until my next comeback and duck behind the curtains, meeting up with my manager.

"Yunho, you did great!" he praises me. "Your album sales will definitely skyrocket after this concert. Everyone will be talking about it!"

I dismiss him, leaving him baffled. I never act like this, but I have never been this fed up with my career choice before. He tries to call me back over, but I am out the door of the stadium before he can yell any louder. The cool night air hits me in the face and gives me a fresh burst of clean air. No matter how cold it is, I will always feel warm. Constantly exercising and practicing for my comebacks makes me feel like I am going to collapse inside of myself from overheating. Just as I can relax, the exit door flies open behind me. I whip around and see my manager with two security guards barreling toward me. I almost choose to give in, but not before I can have a little fun.

I dart to the right, towards an Italian restaurant. I act like I am going to go inside, but take a sharp left into an alleyway instead. I see that there is a dead-end, but not before I notice the ladder hanging down from one of the stairwells. I check to see how much time I have and figure they will not be able to reach me in time to pull me down, so I climb up as fast as my wobbly arms and legs will let me. Just as I am over the top rung, the two guards begin to climb. I lift myself onto the roof and run to the other side, going down the other stairwell. As I hop off, I look back up and cannot see either them. I smile to myself before running across the street to the opera house where some new musician is playing. I notice how the inside is almost identical to the inside of my performance hall and mimick how I would get to my room. When I finally find an unlocked door, I get inside quickly, surprised that no one was around to notice me. Maybe they are all watching the musician play.

As I calm down and get back to normal breathing, I begin to snoop around. I notice how there is nothing personal in the room. Most of the corners on the tables have some kind of cloth covering them, as well as any sharp objects. The mirrors are screwed into the wall and the chairs all have wheels. There is no computer either. The person this room belongs to must have some safety issues, but I have no time to wonder about who the inhabitant of the room could be because the door slowly opens. I quickly walk over to hide in the closet and hold my breath, waiting to be caught and arrested for breaking in.

As I wait for my impending doom, I calm down. It does not sound like the person is moving very quickly, nor do they seem suspicious of anything being out of place. How strange, I think. If it were my room, I would have immediately noticed that a few of the chairs had been pulled out and rearranged. Just as I am about to sneak a peek at who this person is, they appear right in front of me. I nearly squeak from fear of being seen. Then I realize it.

He cannot see anything.

I am in awe as I watch him reach around grabbing for clothes until he quickly turns and runs his hand over my chest. My body temperature immediately decreases as his facial expression turns ferocious. "Security!" he calls as I duck behind him. "Help, there's someone in my room!"
 

While I run away I practically fall over his furniture, doing a worse job of maneuvering around his room than him. As I run out the door I double-check to make sure no one saw me before heading the direction I came from. I exit the building and go back to apologize to my manager and get things settled. For the rest of the night, though, I am stuck wondering who he is and how I can meet him.

I would love to get to know him. Maybe then I'd find myself.