The days blurred together as Eunji pushed herself harder, each moment of her life revolving around one singular goal: perfection. It wasn’t enough to be good at what she did—she had to be flawless. Hiroto’s words echoed in her mind every day as she stepped into the grueling routine of modeling training and skincare therapies.

“Models don’t just exist. They are sculpted,” he had told her once, his voice cold but steady. “You are not just here to be a pretty face, Eunji. You are here to embody an ideal.”

The pressure hung like a dark cloud over her, each session in the training room, each therapy appointment, each weight scale she stepped on adding another layer to the suffocating burden she carried. The number on the scale was never low enough, her skin never flawless enough. Every inch of her body, her appearance, was meticulously scrutinized.

It began with the weight.

Eunji had always been naturally slim, but it wasn’t enough for the world Hiroto had placed her in. The modeling industry, even in Japan, had strict standards, and she had to fit within them. Her body was her canvas, and every day felt like another brushstroke to achieve an unattainable ideal.

In the beginning, Hiroto had encouraged her to start with a simple routine. He wanted her to shed a few pounds to meet the industry’s expectations, nothing drastic. But the regimen he set for her quickly spiraled into something more intense.

Her days began at 5 a.m., the sound of her alarm breaking through the silence of her luxurious, yet sterile, room in Hiroto’s mansion. The first thing she did was step onto the scale.

“Down one more pound,” the number taunted her, mocking the way her body had begun to feel like a machine rather than a part of herself.

Eunji had become obsessed. Every meal was controlled, every bite calculated. Hiroto’s chefs prepared perfectly portioned meals, balanced in protein and fat, but Eunji found herself eating less and less. Sometimes, she would skip meals altogether, pushing her body further than it wanted to go.

As the pounds melted away, her body began to change—slimmer, more angular, but at the cost of her energy. Her face had lost its natural glow, her skin beginning to pale. But to Hiroto, it was a success. He only saw the body he wanted to create, a perfect image of what the fashion world demanded.

Then came the endless skin therapies.

Every morning after her workouts, Eunji would be led to the beauty suite. The clinic had been set up in the mansion itself, staffed by professionals who administered treatments that promised perfect skin. A combination of facials, laser therapies, and even chemical peels began to take a toll on her skin. Though her complexion had always been clear, the harsh treatments made her skin more sensitive, yet her body and mind had long since adapted to the pain.

There were the light therapy sessions, where beams of intense blue light were directed at her face to tighten pores and remove blemishes. Then came the collagen boosters, microneedling, and anti-aging treatments designed to give her the luminous glow of youth, even though she was just barely sixteen.

Every treatment left her skin tingling, sore from the invasive procedures. But it was worth it, they told her. They showed her before-and-after photos of models who had undergone the same treatments—faces glowing like porcelain, smooth and wrinkle-free, as if untouched by time or hardship. She would be like them, the best of the best.

But as her face grew clearer, her eyes began to reflect the toll it had taken. They looked older, tired, and distant. Behind the facade of beauty, Eunji was slowly losing herself.

Despite her exhaustion, she didn’t dare slow down. Hiroto’s expectations were always at the forefront of her mind, pushing her through the hours of exercise, the endless therapies, the grueling modeling lessons. She was no longer just a girl. She was becoming a product—something manufactured, perfected, and placed on display for the world to see. But the person she had been, the girl who once dreamed of simpler things, seemed to slip further away with each passing day.

One evening, as Eunji sat in front of the full-length mirror in her room, she stared at her reflection, barely recognizing the person looking back at her. Her eyes were hollow, her face gaunt. Her lips were painted the perfect shade of nude, and her hair, once full and alive, now felt limp and lifeless.

She had never felt so...empty.

The girl who had once laughed at the idea of becoming a model, who had spent her time studying and dreaming about her future outside of the spotlight, was gone. In her place stood someone who had become a mere shadow, a shell of what she used to be.

But no one saw it. No one could see it, because she had become exactly what Hiroto wanted her to be—the ideal model. The beautiful, polished, and perfect image that society demanded. Yet beneath it all, she was hollow.

One evening, after another skin treatment, Eunji found herself in the quiet of the mansion’s garden, staring out into the expansive, moonlit space. The silence of the night pressed against her ears, and for the first time in what felt like weeks, she let herself breathe.

It was then that Hiroto approached, standing at the edge of the garden, his gaze directed toward her, but he said nothing. She could feel the weight of his expectations on her, even now.

“Do you like it?” Hiroto finally asked, his voice steady but laced with an emotion she couldn’t decipher.

Eunji took a deep breath, finally turning to face him. She looked at him—the man who had shaped her into this version of herself, who had driven her to become perfect.

“I don’t know anymore,” she whispered. “I don’t know who I am.”

Hiroto didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on her, searching for something in her eyes. For the first time, she saw something in his face that was almost... regretful.

“I did this because I thought it was what was best for you,” he said quietly. “I thought... I thought you would be happier.”

Eunji shook her head, the tears threatening to spill but held back by the thick walls she had built around herself. “I don’t feel happy, Hiroto. I feel like I’m losing myself.”

The days continued to pass, the weight of her transformation pressing down on Eunji’s spirit, but now she had a new resolve. She could no longer continue down this path of relentless perfection. It wasn’t just her body that needed healing; it was her heart, her mind, her soul.

Eunji had to find herself again—before she disappeared completely.