ACT like you LOVE me

PROLOGUE

PERFECTION....

It's funny how one word can consume your entire existence. For as long as I can remember, all I've ever craved was that elusive state of flawlessness—a state that meant being the absolute best, and by extension, getting all the attention, adoration, and even love that comes with it.

Ever since I was a baby, I was painted as the perfect one. My parents had this crystal-clear idea in their minds: they wanted a girl who was not only pretty and cute but also calm and low-maintenance—a little miracle who wouldn't keep them up all night. And, to everyone's delight, I fit the bill perfectly. I was that rare child who never cried too much, who slept on cue, and whose smile could light up a room without even trying. I even surprised everyone when I learned to walk faster than the other kids, and my first word wasn't "mama" or "papa" but "parents," as if I was announcing from day one that I belonged to this carefully constructed ideal.

As I grew older, the expectations only multiplied. I was the obedient child who never questioned a rule or hesitated to follow a plan. When my mom decided that I needed to be the smartest kid in the neighborhood, she homeschooled me at five, and I threw myself into my studies with a fervor that left no room for childish distractions. And when my dad, feeling a twinge of envy over his friends' sons who were learning karate, signed me up for self-defense classes, I didn't protest—although deep down I'd much rather have spent my afternoons in ballet class, twirling like the girls my age.

I played the part of the goody-two-shoes flawlessly. I never fussed about food, never got into trouble, and I was always careful to keep my clothes spotless if I even ventured outside. I rarely complained, never threw tantrums, and I made sure that even in moments of frustration I didn't lash out at my friends or even my own sister. Every day, I strove to embody the image of the perfect daughter, sister, cousin, and friend—the ideal in every role.

Striving for perfection became my raison d'être. Sure, it was suffocating at times, and I sometimes wondered if I was just a people pleaser or overly obsessed with being adored. But honestly? There was an undeniable thrill in it all. Every compliment, every smile, every nod of approval felt like a spark fueling my relentless pursuit of being the best. It was almost addictive—the way being seen as "perfect" made me feel as if the word itself had been tailor-made just for me.

There were no whispers behind my back, no slander, and no one ever had the nerve to disrespect me. Everywhere I went, people treated me like I was this angel sent from above, and that kind of unwavering admiration was something I couldn't get enough of. I reveled in every moment of it, convinced that nothing, and no one, could ever take that away from me. I was perfect, and I intended to remain that way, no matter how much time passed or how many challenges I faced.

Even now, as I look back on every meticulously planned step of my life, I can't help but smile at the person I've become. I've built my identity on the belief that perfection is everything, and every decision—no matter how small—has been a deliberate move in a lifelong chess game where I refuse to accept defeat. Because in this world, perfection isn't just a goal; it's the only way I know how to exist.

**
PROLOGUE:
"I, the PERFECT HONG EUNCHAE, WILL NOT ACCEPT SUCH A LOSS"
**

In the bustling corridors of Dal-Ri Middle School, Eunchae—known for her sleek black hair and meticulously trimmed bangs—strode with a deliberate, measured pace. Despite the chatter and laughter echoing off the lockers, she moved as though in a world of her own, her face locked in that trademark poker expression she'd perfected over the years. Today, as on so many days before, she was focused on one goal: maintaining her flawless reputation.