(E.1)

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When I first saw him, it was as if someone had punched me the hardest they can in order to knock all the air in my lungs—without the pain though.

The first glance, the first sight of him I could only see how beautiful, how perfect he was. In the creases of his smile, as he spoke to some "golden senior singer" at the company, his kindness, his brightness, his sunshine, his whole-self was there.

He was so radiant I couldn't look at him while also being unable to look away.

I stood there so small, my body still young but my mature heart knew. It beat and drummed loudly, copiously, as my eyes kept staring at him. I took in everything that I could with my eyes.

His sharp nose, his warm eyes, his beautiful smile—so perfect, and the flutter of his eyelashes as he blinked unconsciously was so breathtaking. He was simply breathtaking.

One look, a glance—not even from him, had me stricken with a case of lovesickness.

My thoughts were stolen by him, invaded by his presence, my brain unable to process anything but him.

I had been only fourteen, but I knew he was mine and I was his.

It was just a matter of time.

😇

Time...

After I had my debut, I saw him a little more—but just a little.

That was fine. I still had a bit more time to pass, before I would be able to be more forward—to him.

I just had to wait until after I turned eighteen.

😇

Every time I saw him, he looked more exhausted. My beloved looked so tired physically and mentally, but also spiritually. He was not sleeping well. Actually he wasn't sleeping at all.

I saw him looking at me. It was not the way I wanted him to look at me, but him noticing me, even for a brief moment, was a blessing. I could be satisfied for now.

For now...but I was still so impatient.

Time passed so slowly, my desire growing and my mind maturing so quickly by the lust of the mind and heat of my body.

Growing...my mind grew and so did my body. My eyes knew his features, his mind, his body, his soul...

He knew mine...he just had to admit to it.

Even as the nuisance buffered him from me, I knew that she was nothing more than trash—horrid and fake.

Mora did not deserve my precious beloved. She abused and tortured him, and Hoseok was too kindred of a spirit to see through her lies and deceit, and too sweet to be cruel.

But just as her grip on him weakened, mine grew stronger. Little by little I would save my love from that wretched witch. She was ruining him, and I hated that.

To see such a perfect being suffering because of a heartless bitch like her, I couldn't stand by and let her ruin him.

He called me angel but I was his heroine.

😇

I was waiting.

For what?

Timing...the perfect time for me to become 'someone' in his life. I didn't want to be just an artist under his company. I wanted to be more, someone irreplaceable, even bigger than Jungkook and Jimin.

All my life—younger life—all I wanted was to dance and to sing, to be on stage, sharing and awe-striking the audience just as I had once been when I was five. It had been my dream, and it was still my dream.

I was not giving up on my dream, to becomes big, to be someone important, but Hoseok was improatnat to me—undeniably.

Since having met him, my years were spent dreaming, praying, hoping, yearning for him. He was my hope, more imporantly my fate. To lose the chance to be with my fated person, would be unacceptable because not everyone had the luck of meeting their other half, but I had.

😇

I was over eighteen, but still young...

Eden said that all the time, that I was too young, too immature, and that I had to focus on work, my career, my dream. Eden could not understand that Jung Hoseok was more than the Director—more than a crush, an infatuation. He was more than my dream, because he was my fate, my intended, my half who could fill all the emptiness inside of me.

And just like how only Hoseok was in my heart, only I could satisfy him and, heal and undo her wretched doings.

All that needed to happen was for him to come to me, and be mine.

Yet there were so many obstacles between us—hindering us.

But like everyone said patience is a virtue, and I was a very patience woman. Or I had to be.

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