Thin people. So many thin people. These were my thoughts as I stepped off the plane and into Seoul. Everywhere, girls with thin, straight legs walked about in platform shoes and miniskirts. I hadn't even been there for an hour when I started to realize why this was one of the cosmetic surgery capitals of the world. On every possible wall were billboards advertising skin lightening cream, skin lightening face masks, makeup to enlarge eyes, and hair dye. I kind of felt uneasy seeing it all, because it can't be healthy for a society to obsess over looks this much. There must be incredible pressure on Korean teens, thanks to Kpop and dramas, to do anything to be beautiful and get a chance at fame and unimaginable wealth.

    I started to second guess my decision- would changing my looks bring me true happiness and fulfillment? Hm, possibly not.

What would I lose? Am I giving up a part of myself in order to fulfill society's arbitrary standards of beauty? Possibly yes.

Was it right, to do something so drastic in the name of revenge? No, it definitely was extra.

But then I remembered Cara and Dillon's faces and the laughter of everyone at Wesley, and decided to go through with it, which makes me a raging hypocrite, I suppose.

I sat in a train seat on the journey to my uncle and aunt's house, watching the beautiful countryside speed by. Finally, things seemed to be looking up for me. I was minding my own business, listening to Vennu Mallesh's hit song "its my life whatever I wanna do" when I noticed the teen girls on the other side pointing at me and giggling. Real subtle, guys.

    I ignore them but then I notice the businessman in front of me take off his glasses and squint, as if trying to see if he recognized me. Everyone around me seemed to know something that I didn't. My heart sank. I certainly didn't look like a celebrity, Korean or otherwise, so why were people staring at me?

    The answer came when I changed trains in Busan, in the form of the news on the station's tv. A lump forming in my throat, I watched as the news anchor described me running into the gum wall, accompanied by a video most likely recorded by some yearbook twat. I wanted to go viral, but for my YouTube channel for my cats, not like this. But I had no more tears left to cry. I was now a hardened soul, incapable of feeling anything anymore. The dark side felt good. I bought myself a banana milk as I updated my PowerPoint on possible revenge ideas.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    ~One week later~

    I think I done fucked up. I won't know for sure until a couple weeks later, when I can take the bandages off, but I think I overdid it. It was supposed to be a simple procedure- liposuction, a nose job, and some minor cheek alterations, but then I decided I wanted to go big. I always get made fun of for being one of the few Asians at Wesley, so I asked them to make me look less Asian. They changed my legs, eyes, and my whole face by a lot. They cut all the fat away, all the parts of me that I was ashamed of, leaving behind... what exactly?

I really really hope this works, because the pain will be worth it. Not only is the physical pain pretty bad, but due to lack of English subtitles on daytime tv I had to resort to watching Australian tv which is pretty fucking painful.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: Pls look up "Vennu Mallesh its my life" you wont regret it. Also please vote if you like this story :)