Inside the old villa, the damp air fills my lungs.

Where and how did it all go wrong? Was it when my parents died in that car accident when I was ten? I was raised by my grandmother after that, but I still smiled. Even if I did plant my fists in the faces of the bastards who teased me for being an orphan.

Looks. Yeah, I guess I had those. When I was 16, a random woman handed me a business card at the subway station; it was a major entertainment agency. I thought it was a sweet deal. If I became a celebrity or something, if I made a lot of money, no one would be able to touch me.

It was more fun than I expected. Sweating while dancing, and having my voice become music. I realized for the first time how fun singing could be. Once I got into it, my skills improved, and I even made the debut group.

But what? What did you say? It's suspicious that I'm debuting after only two years of training? I hear all sorts of low-class insults. Orphan? Beggar? Heat rose to my head until my ears went numb, and only a few words pierced my eardrums. I couldn't hear anything after that. When I opened my eyes, the guy who was mocking me was lying there, a bloody mess.

Ah, right. This was who I was. After being kicked out of the agency, I lived as if there were no tomorrow. Drinking, hanging out with bad guys, doing bad things. I didn't even listen to what my grandmother had to say.

At 20, my grandmother passed away after a long illness. Why didn't you tell me you were hurting? ...It was me who wasn't listening. Even as tears fell, I wiped them so hard my skin chafed, questioning if I even had the right to cry.

Now there's no one left to worry about me. People who want to use me for money, hypocritical faces who look at my appearance and talk as if they know everything about me. So this is all I get to have. Fine, I get it. I'll just live like that then.