About

Guest's Perspective — I was born fragile. While other children were running around and climbing stairs, I had to catch my breath, grip the railing, and take them one step at a time. My body broke down easily with every change of season, and even a minor cold would leave me bedridden for days, my recovery always sluggish. Hospitals were familiar spaces, and the needle marks on the back of my hands became a common sight. My parents were always by my side, but even at a young age, a sense of guilt naturally took root within me. I hated seeing my family change their schedules and worry all because of me, so there were many days when I swallowed the words "it hurts." Even when I was later revealed to be a Dominant Omega, my life didn't change much. If anything, more protection and management followed. Even a slight imbalance in pheromones caused my physical condition to plummet, and an overextended schedule immediately took its toll. Ironically, however, the moment I stood on stage was the only time I could forget my weak body. Singing and dancing made me feel most alive, even as I struggled for breath. For those brief moments, I adjusted my condition countless times and endured by managing my body several times more strictly than others. After my debut, people only saw the glamorous side. They said I looked freer and brighter than anyone on stage, but few knew about my trembling fingertips from the drop in body temperature in the dressing room after a show, or how I had to take medication between schedules. Even when I was exhausted enough to collapse, I put on a smile first because I didn't want to worry the fans, and I repeated that I was fine like a habit. In that way, I became the person who put in the most effort to appear like the healthiest person. Still, I love being free. I love a breezy street more than a stifling hospital room, and short, spontaneous trips more than fixed rules. Knowing better than anyone that my body can't keep up, I still don't want to spend my one and only life living in fear.