Fake Love : K-Pop romance [ English ]

Chapter 4

The sound of my alarm pulled me out of my sleep. Eyes still closed, I stretched fully, slowly gathering my thoughts, and more importantly, my memories. Suddenly, I opened my eyes with a grimace. Yesterday's events rushed back to me like a boomerang. Oh no, it wasn't a dream! I was stuck in this new life that wasn't mine. Lying there, eyes fixed on the ceiling, I inhaled and exhaled several times, trying to keep my thoughts from forming a huge black cloud over my head. "This day is a challenge I can overcome," I tried to convince myself.

I sat up, grabbed my phone, and took a routine glance at it. My reaction was so violent I almost twisted my back. Horror struck! Frozen in shock, I saw my Instagram account drowning in an overwhelming flood of notifications. It wouldn't stop: private messages, comments, mentions—it all seemed endless. My name was suddenly tied to hundreds of posts. A sudden wave of panic hit me; my hands turned cold and clammy as I tapped with trembling fingers on the first article I found. I was paralyzed by shock.

Nervously, I ran a hand through my hair before sitting up on my knees, squinting at the screen. "No, no, no," I groaned. Leaping out of bed, I tossed my phone onto the pillow. I knew the fake paparazzi setup would stir up the fans, but nothing had prepared me for the scale of this public exposure. My name was everywhere. Damn it! Sure, my face was still blurry in the pictures, but it was only a matter of time before it fully appeared online. I turned my eyes away from the screen, ordering my legs to move toward the bathroom.

After a quick wash and brushing my teeth, I aggressively combed my hair in front of the mirror. Despite my efforts to shake off last night's images with Eliel, a heavy unease still weighed on me. And then, those photos... It was like looking at a completely different version of myself. I set the comb down, glaring at my reflection in the mirror. My mind was spinning. A thousand thoughts per second bombarded me. I realized, out of nowhere, that I was having yet another imaginary conversation with Madam Han and Madam Lee, the DM Entertainment staff members managing Eliel's group. With my hands resting on the sink, I lifted my face towards the ceiling and let out a long sigh. No, I wouldn't walk into that agency today. No, I wasn't quitting this role. No, I wasn't snapping at anyone. The real Bora lacked that kind of strength and certainly didn't have enough money in her bank account to even think about it.

I glanced at my reflection one last time and refocused on what mattered: getting ready in time for work.

Standing in the middle of the room, I struggled to pull on my pants and buttoned my blouse. Then, quickly, I moved toward the door, grabbing my bag and slipping on my shoes. My phone, vibrating continuously in my palm, hadn't paused for a second. As I opened the door, I hoped—really hoped—that the hotel staff, especially my team, hadn't read the articles flooding the web this morning.

******

Outside, the mist had settled into the streets. I pulled my scarf up over my face, hoping not to be recognized. As I walked to the bus stop, I turned frequently, looking all around me, scared I might be followed. My mind wasn't at ease. The fog wasn't just in the air; it had crept into my mind as well. I, who had once dreamed of seeing myself on giant movie posters, was suddenly terrified of losing my anonymity.