break up. don't break up. break up. don't break up. break up. don't break up. break up. don't break up. break up. don't break up. break up. don't break up. break up. don't break up. break up. don't break up.
I AM AN IDIOT
Feb 24: DotS premiere - Seoul
Mar 14: Allegiant premiere - NYC
Apr 19: Owl
May 28: Louis Vuitton cruise show - Rio
The first thing her fingers touch is the napkin she keeps forgetting to throw out. Her fingers curl around the rough paper, grasping for some kind of lifeline - the memory of a few days prior when comfort and resolutions to problems came in the form of sandwiches and intertwined fingers. She wonders if she can fix everything with that formula.
"Jieun," the voice on the other line asks, breaking her daze, "are you okay? Do you need me to come get you? Just don't go home. I booked a room at the JW Marriott for you."
Because at home, there are reporters and paparazzi. In fact, there are very likely reporters and paparazzi waiting on the other side of the airport, waiting for her, waiting for her reaction, hoping to catch her unwound and cracked. They might get their chance, she thinks.
She's a fraud; she feels the weight of the words more now than ever. She is a complete fraud. In a country where cosmetic improvements are commonplace, somehow this was still news and worse: scandal. She becomes whomever she needs to become in order to be successful and she has never been the person they painted her to be. She is manufactured. She always has been, and now everyone knows.
"I'm fine," she manages to squeeze out. She isn't, but she fights desperately for the right to keep a secret to herself, any secret - even as little a secret as this.