My life was a constant whirlwind of lights, adoration, and the deafening roar of the crowd. As an idol, I was supposed to revel in the glory, the fame, the unending cheers. But little did they know, the facade I wore on stage concealed a profound hatred for the very life that had turned me into an idol.

The world saw me as a shining star, a symbol of perfection, but behind the scenes, I was drowning in the suffocating expectations and relentless scrutiny. Every smile I plastered on my face was a lie, every step I took under the spotlight felt like a chain pulling me further away from who I truly was.

"Perfection, Perfection, Perfection Perfection, Perfection, Perfection, Perfection, Perfection, Perfection, Perfection, Perfection ....... " was all I could hear at times.

The glittering stage was my prison, and the cheers of the fans were the bars that confined me. I yearned for moments of solitude, for a chance to breathe without the weight of expectations pressing down on me. The trappings of fame were a gilded cage, and I despised every moment spent within its confines.

Until one day, as I stood in the dressing room, the ground beneath me began to shake. At first, I dismissed it as just another tremor in the bustling city, but the intensity quickly escalated. Panic set in as the walls trembled, and the familiar surroundings of my backstage sanctuary transformed into a chaotic nightmare.

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Amidst the chaos, I felt an odd mixture of fear and liberation. The ground continued to shake violently, and the very foundation of my manufactured world crumbled. I could hear the distant screams of fans and the crashing of equipment, but strangely, the impending disaster felt like a twisted release.

As the dressing room walls shook and the ceiling threatened to cave in, I closed my eyes, surrendering to the chaos. The earthquake became a metaphorical reckoning, tearing down the illusions that had defined my existence. In those final moments, I welcomed the chaos, embracing the end of a life I never truly chose.

The only words in my mind as I faded from existence were my regret to my mom for failing to become truly Perfect and my curses to my manager for suggesting to tour japan.

As the debris settled, my existence as an idol came to a tragic close. In the rubble, amidst the remnants of a once-glamorous life, the world mourned the loss of a star. Little did they know, I had found a freedom in death that had eluded me in life. The earthquake, in its destructive force, had granted me an escape from the golden chains that bound me to a life I never wanted.

But even then, Death would not have me.