Confrontation in the Toilet

The studio was bustling, footsteps echoing through the hallways as artists and technicians worked to bring their creations to life. I pushed my way through the hustle and bustle, my mind focused on the details of my next performance. But something was wrong. A familiar feeling of uneasiness came over me as I approached the toilet.

Once inside, I hoped for a moment of respite, a short moment to refocus. But instead, I found myself face to face with him, my fiancé. His face, once a source of comfort, was now tinged with guilt and surprise. I guessed that he wasn't expecting us to meet here, in this ordinary place, in the middle of a hectic day.

I tried to ignore him, but his grip on my arm made me shiver in disgust. Every fiber of my being refused his touch, knowing now that he was no longer trustworthy. He tried to speak to me, but his words seemed distant, muffled by the tumult of my thoughts.

"Let me go," I managed to say, my voice choked with emotion. But he didn't understand. Perhaps he refused to understand. The image of his betrayal burned my mind, fueling my revulsion.

A nausea rose within me, brutal and relentless. I felt bile rising in my throat, a physical reaction to moral outrage. He finally let go of me, surprised by the firmness of my request. My eyes stared at him, devoid of the love and trust that had once nourished our relationship.

"Go away," I whispered, my voice trembling with suppressed anger. Every fiber of my being screamed its need to leave, to get away from this man

He looked at me for a moment, disconcerted by my categorical refusal.

-What's happening to you, Hyun?, he asks me perplexed, are you making me upset?

-...

-Tell me if I did something wrong, he said to me sadly, I'll make it up to you

-Go away, I simply whispered to him

He finally nodded, letting a heavy silence settle between us. Then, without another word, he left the bathroom, leaving me alone with my tormented thoughts.

I stood there for a moment, short of breath, hands trembling. Then, with superhuman effort, I gathered my strength to splash water on my face before wiping my face with paper and exiting the toilet.

-Hyun hurry up, everyone is waiting for you, my manager said to me, running towards me, stressed.

-Yeah, I was coming, I replied.

It was time to return to the studio, where my voice came to life and my emotions were expressed through music.

When I arrived, I was greeted by an atmosphere charged with electricity. Eager fans waited outside, their enthusiasm palpable in the air.

Inside, a few journalists were busy adjusting their equipment, while the technical team was fine-tuning the final settings of the sound system. The studio was ready for another recording session, but something was weighing on my heart.

Before I began, I knew I had to send a message, a statement that would resonate beyond the musical notes. I took a deep breath, my fingers brushing the palms of my hands, searching for the right words to express what I was feeling.

-Before we begin, I would like to send a message, I announced in a firm voice, capturing the attention of everyone in the room. All eyes turned to me, curious to know what I was going to say.

"This song I'm about to perform is dedicated to my ex-fiancé Donovan," I continued, feeling the weight of my words on my shoulders. A heavy silence enveloped the room, anticipation mingling with surprise.

"To my ex-fiancé," I added, my words echoing around the studio like a distant echo. Shock was painted on the faces of those around me, no one having anticipated this revelation.

As a popular singer, my private life was often scrutinized by the media, but this announcement remained a closely guarded secret.

Murmurs spread throughout the room, glances exchanged between fans, journalists and the technical team.

Yet, despite the emotional tumult around me, I felt liberated. By dedicating this song to my ex-fiancé, I was taking control of my story, transforming pain into strength, memories into art.

Determinedly, I stepped towards the microphone, letting my fingers caress the edge of my microphone. The first notes resonated in the room, enveloping the audience in a melody imbued with sadness and resilience.

As my voice rose through the room, carrying the emotionally charged words, I felt the weight of my past lighten, replaced by a feeling of freedom and renewal. No matter the surprised looks or murmurs in the audience, this moment belonged to me, a moment of truth amid the tumult of star life.

Flowers in hand, waiting for me,

Every word of poetry you tell me,

You never call me by my name but only "baby"

Have you forgotten my name? Or are you afraid of getting your name wrong with these other girls you meet?

Everyone says I look happy with you,

But I know it's wrong,

Because you're not made for me,

I wish we had never met the day I left

I stayed,

Because they say that misery loves company,

I'm everything they said I would be,

calm and silent,

Once again,

A little more pain won't kill you,

This evening, mom said to me: "You don't look happy. »

So I close my eyes,

I don't want to think about you anymore,

Get out of my head.