Imposterism | KTH

Rumors

01

Turn the corners of your lips up. Good. Now, keep them like that for the rest of the night. I don't know why I have to put myself through these clammy parties. All I know is if I don't keep on smiling, I will break down and cry. The buzz from alcohol does alleviate my mood. But ultimately the weight of my lips becomes unbearable.

"Are you alright, miss?" A deep voice called after me.

"Peachy." I chirped, walking away from him. People who can see through my façade must be avoided. I glanced at my boyfriend who was sitting too close to a random girl. The pang in my chest worsened. I didn't stop. The need to get away from people growing stronger.

The guy was following me; I could hear him behind me in the dimly lit corridor. I didn't care. My mask was falling off, and I needed to get away before I break down.

"You're not allowed to go there, miss." I was getting annoyed, but any faster and I'd fall on my face. With my spinning head and blurred vision, it was hard to navigate.

"Says who?" I shot back without looking at him.

Tears were already falling from my eyes, a mixture of salt-water and mascara. I entered a bedroom and tried to close the door behind me but the guy lodged his foot in and opened it wide again. I didn't turn to stop him.

"Says the owner. You can't be in here." He insisted. "Please go back to the party." Is he a waiter or something?

"Sure, in a minute." I entered the washroom and locked the door, thankfully, he didn't follow me there.

Tears and muffled sobs. Crying was a sign of weakness. In a world so vicious, there was no place for it. But, in that moment, I let myself be weak only because I was alone.

My reflection was foreign to me. Tears, snot and makeup. I washed my face clean. Cold water offered a little clarity in haziness.

In a few minutes, I could stand still. Choking down the sobs, a new layer of makeup was applied, hiding away the imperfections. I took out a small flask from my handbag. The smell of alcohol making me queasy. I chugged it anyway.

Opening the door, I finally saw a blurry image of the man who has been following me. It was hard for me to focus, but he could definitely see me.

"Yoona-ssi?" His mouth was hanging open.

I felt the contents of my stomach rise up at the sound of my given name. Of-course, he'd recognize me, a well-known actress, a star. Star? How ridiculous? 

I turned around and squatted in front of the toilet, vomiting out the contents of my stomach which were only varieties of alcohol. I could've held on longer; this stupid guy messed it up. Tears, snot and vomit, I became a mess again.

He handed me a water bottle, but before I could drink it, second wave hit and then third and soon I passed out.

***

The light was in my eyes. I groaned, turning away from it, feeling my head pound inside my skull. The events from last night coming back to me as I realized I wasn't in my own bed. Because of some unknown instinct or past experiences, the first thing I did was pull the blankets up to take a peek. A sigh of relief. Fully dressed! Thank goodness.

Quiet reluctantly, I got out of the blanket and grabbed a water bottle from the night stand and dragged my body to the bathroom.

Anxiety was getting better of me and I ended up stripping down, searching my body for any marks. I didn't feel sore and there was not a scratch on my body. Atleast not a fresh one.