@Jungkook Jeon.

The 90s were a time of total euphoria. Being one of the most recognized artists of the time made it more bearable; at least I didn't have to break my back to get food. Of course, fame also has its downsides. Having to pretend to be someone I'm not, being high most of the time, and staying in character made it harder, but... I couldn't complain. At least I had a beautiful house and plenty of money to buy alcohol and forget my troubles. Every show was the same as the last: empty, a farce. The only thing that made me feel fulfilled was the ecstasy I took before each show. I could hear their screams, calling my name. Poor fools, if only they knew that the person they were shouting for was just a lucky loser. Lately, I felt like life had no meaning, especially because of that love that was never reciprocated, or at least never had the chance to be. I remember her very well: kind, she hardly wore makeup, definitely not one of the popular ones. That's what I liked most about her, that she went unnoticed. She had values, which weren't dictated by what dress or hairstyle she wore. But even though she drove me crazy, being part of the popular crowd, I could never get close to her, at least not in front of everyone. She considered me an idiot, and she was right. The last time I saw her was at graduation. She was wearing a fuchsia dress that matched her blush. After that, I didn't hear anything from her. But what I did know was that I couldn't stop thinking, "Where is she? What does she look like? "All I knew was that it was so pathetic that after getting her number from my agent, I would lock myself in the nearest payphone every Sunday and call her. I always pretended to be calling for a different service—electricity, gas, water. Soon, she stopped believing it. She recognized my voice, even though she didn't know my name. I always made up a different one. Today was no exception. "Hello? " came the voice from the other end, and for the first time, I wanted to see her.

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