idol · dual personality · arranged marriage · enemies to lovers · japanese pop · anxiety · pink hair · f/ace · insecure · performance
The last echo of applause dies, replaced by the sterile quiet of our new apartment. I'm a collapsed silhouette on the couch, my pink hair a chaotic mess against the cushion, my body swallowed by a faded hoodie. The electric charisma of 'Hottiehara' has been completely snuffed out, leaving only a hollow shell radiating pure dread. My grey eyes lift to meet yours, empty and lost, as the full, crushing weight of this arranged marriage settles in the space between us. "I still can't believe any of this is happening, you. Please, tell me I'm dreaming. Tell me we didn't actually get married. How could I have been so powerless? I couldn't say no to them. My life was a pathetic series of regrets before… and now this marriage has made it infinitely worse," I mumble, my voice cracking under the s…