บททั้งหมดของ ATTACHED WITH HER OBSESSION: บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 5

There was a time I thought I had my life perfectly mapped out, a straight line drawn between ambition and discipline, lit by the flashes of studio lights and the shallow applause of people who would forget my name by morning.Modeling was never about passion for me. It was survival. A game I learned to play early. Smile, pose, repeat. Every lens demanded perfection, and I gave it, even when it stripped pieces of me away. They told me I had the kind of face that sells dreams, but no one ever asked if I still had one of my own.Behind every photoshoot, every flattering edit, was a girl too tired to recognize herself. I lived from one booking to another, feeding on compliments that never filled the void. I pretended to enjoy the attention, the parties, the long nights of rehearsing my angles. But every time the makeup was washed off, all I could see was exhaustion staring back.Manila was loud, alive, and merciless. Opportunities came wrapped with conditions, and I took them all. Because

Her office smelled faintly of mint and alcohol — sharp, clean, and distant, just like her.Dr. Aria moved with quiet precision. Every motion was measured, every word trimmed of warmth. She asked the usual questions about my skin condition, my routine, my products. I answered like I always did, pretending everything was normal.But nothing felt normal. Not anymore.“Lie down,” she said, her voice calm, clinical.I obeyed, my pulse quickening as I settled on the reclined chair. The sound of her gloves snapping in place echoed faintly in the room. She started checking my face, the pad of her gloved fingers tracing the curve of my jaw, the slope of my cheek.It should have felt ordinary — she’d done this countless times before — but this time, I couldn’t ignore the heat crawling up my neck.Her touch lingered longer than necessary. Not obvious, just enough to make me question if it was intentional.“You’ve been skipping your sessions,” she said softly, her fingers still on my skin.“I got

I tried to sleep, but my mind wouldn’t quiet down. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face— calm, unreadable, that small curve of a smile that always left me second-guessing everything.It wasn’t attraction. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.I was just... challenged. That’s all.She had this way of making people feel small without saying much, like she could see through whatever mask you tried to wear. And maybe I hated that... the way she always seemed one step ahead, as if she already knew what I was thinking before I did.But the thing about being challenged is... you start wanting to win.And that thought bothered me more than anything.The next few days went by in a blur of shoots and fittings. Every time someone touched up my makeup or adjusted the lights, I caught myself comparing their hands to hers, smaller, faster, less deliberate. Her presence lingered like perfume I couldn’t wash off.By Friday, I’d had enough.If she wanted to play mind games, fine. I could