Lahat ng Kabanata ng ATTACHED WITH HER OBSESSION: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

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

The music was loud enough to blur thoughts, but not loud enough to drown the sound of my heartbeat when I saw her.Dr. Aria Williams— in a black satin dress, no white coat, no gloves. Just her. Elegant, composed, dangerously out of place among the lights and noise.For a second, I thought I was hallucinating. But when her gaze locked with mine across the crowd, I knew it wasn’t imagination.She smiled—small, subtle, like she already knew I’d been waiting to find her.“Ena!” Martha’s voice pulled me back. “Come, meet the sponsors.”I forced a smile and followed, pretending my attention wasn’t drifting to the corner where Aria stood, holding a champagne glass. Beside her was one of the male models— the kind with a smile too confident for his own good. So she really did come here... as someone else’s plus one.Figures.“Miss Garden,” the sponsor said, shaking my hand. I smiled automatically, answering the usual compliments about the shoot, the campaign, the trending hashtag. My responses

I set the mirror down, forcing a breath. “You think you can just keep doing this?”“I’m not doing anything you didn’t allow,” she said, her tone gentle but pointed.Her phone buzzed on the desk. She ignored it.Instead, she took a step closer, close enough that I could smell that same faint scent of mint and clean linen.Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Do you really think I’m playing with you, Ena?”My lips parted, but no sound came out.“Because if I were,” she continued, “you’d already know who’s winning.”I swallowed hard, trying to pull myself together. “You’re unbelievable.”Her lips curved slightly. “You said that last night.”I stood up abruptly, grabbing my bag. “We’re done here.”“Are we?” she asked quietly.I didn’t answer. I walked to the door, hand on the knob but before I could turn it, her voice stopped me again.“Ena.”I looked over my shoulder.She was watching me, eyes calm, almost tender. “Next time,” she said, “don’t let anyone touch you like that again.”And then