12. SNS Star, College Goddess Yoon Mi-na (24, Total Slut) – Has a Boyfriend ♡
Yoon Mi-na's life had been a bed of roses, in a word. Her family wasn't wealthy, but her prim and pure looks drew praise wherever she went. Starting from middle school, guys swarmed her just to win her favor, showering her with homework help and pocket money. With men always at her beck and call, she'd never learned to value them.
This made her arrogant, fostering entitled princess behavior that left her utterly incompetent. Around then, jealous girls started mocking her as the "loose screw princess." Yoon Mi-na dismissed it as ugly envy from her own sex, but deep down, it stung. Craving an image makeover to prove herself, she buckled down on studies.
From the start of her flower-like high school days, fueled by spite, she graduated near the top of her class. Now she had the looks and brains, cementing her goddess status. Naturally, the envy intensified. Yoon Mi-na wore it like a badge of honor. Remembering those cowards who gossiped behind her back but ended up at worse colleges with worse grades and uglier faces, she'd smirk inwardly—take that—always grinning ear to ear.
But that was the peak. Her path stayed rosy, but like a stock chart gone flat, growth stalled. Tasting freedom in college, she loosened up again, exploiting guys left and right. Men still flocked eagerly, trailing her like puppies whenever she snapped her fingers. Yoon Mi-na, now a college girl, had never once lugged a thick textbook on her own.
Casual selfies leveraging her natural beauty exploded on SNS, followers surging, ads and modeling gigs pouring in. She even shot clothes for a major store and got offers from big agencies. But again, right there it stopped. Sweet opportunities dangled for a full breakout, yet even on the cusp of graduation, she'd never truly blown up.
Why? She hated effort. No-name gigs devolved into tantrums at staff; her empty-headed SNS posts sparked endless drama. Selling a fresh-faced, milky-skinned image nonstop, her personality scandals never ceased. Beyond looks and gossip fodder, she had no standout talents.
Stressed by flops, she tried fancy training—singing, acting, speech—but skipped constantly. Nothing developed. Some agencies wanted to build on her visuals, but her fake-nice facade hiding a trashy, uncontrollable core made them bail. Looks can make you a star. But spots are limited; you compete with every pretty girl nationwide. Just-pretty bitches lose to talented, charming ones. Pretty faces alone only snag and squeeze men dry.
But is that so bad? Shifting strategy, she ditched stardom. Instead, she hooked a hotshot: young, sportscar-driving elite. But rich winners were smart. They'd seen her type—face-deep girls—and toyed without committing, or fled when spotting her using them as stepping stones or wallets, her ugly innards exposed.
As graduation loomed, despair hit. Unlike freshman year, her value plummeted daily. Shitty GPA, entertainment dead-end, job panic dropping standards till Lee Jeong-su. Decent looks, fat family perks, easy to control after sampling better—this was compromise.
Now alone with boyfriend Lee Jeong-su at a dive pub, friends gone, filling an awkward six-seater.
Lee Jeong-su downed a shot, flexing. "If the punk's leaving, just go. Ruining the vibe like a loser."
His buddy-bashing. "I'm relieved, honestly. Better now."
Truth: one face among his friends she never wanted to see. Shaking things early was a lucky break.
"Told you not to invite me. Just kills the mood."
"Hey, was it our fault? Blame Chae Seon-woo for flipping out over old shit."
"...What?"
"That confession mess happened 'cause he blurted it like an idiot, right?"
"Yeah, but..."
"Dude's clueless... Anyway, done! No more mood-killers."
Lee Jeong-su scooted closer, flesh pressing. "Might as well make the best of it, huh?"
His arm slithered like a slug from shoulder toward tits. She grabbed his wrist, blocking at the armpit.
Fucking cheap pub mood? Piece of shit.
His whore-handling move pissed her off; she gripped till marks formed. He yanked free, blowing on it, Hollywood wince.
"Ow, killing me. Playing hard to get much?"
"You wanna grope your girl's tits in a bar?"
"Well... We've been dating two and a half months, barely played. Except that trip."
"Mentioning the trip pisses me off. Got chewed out at home for it."
"...Sorry."
Whined into one-night overseas fuck; now this. Ugh, why are guys like this?
Lee Jeong-su himself lacked appeal; headache. Good family or not, breakup tempting.
"Pfft!" Guzzling in frustration. Vibe dead post-start anyway.
Bored, Yoon Mi-na checked SNS on phone.
...A text?
#@#!$%&!!!
She slammed the phone face-down. Scalp burned, world spun, blood drained.
"Heyyy, babe~ C'mon, be real."
"..."
"It's been a month already... Yeah? I'll treat you good... Motels nearby—"
"Shut the fuck up, you moron!"
She shot up, yelling. That forbidden pic frayed her nerves.
Pub eyes—drinkers, staff—locked on.
"Forget it... I'm out."
Head spinning, but escape chance. Faked anger: sulky girlfriend. Oscar-worthy, unseen in auditions.
"Whoa, pissed?"
"Dunno. Got stuff. Later."
"Babe! Sorry! Babe!!!"
"Don't call."
Ignoring his cling, she grabbed bag, bolted.
Snagged the pic, booked nearby motel, waited. Yoon Mi-na arrived soon. Door open: ashen, braced for worst. Spotting me, confusion piled on.
"Hey."
Welcomed warmly; she stammered. "Wh-why... how the hell are you..."
"Huh? What?"
"Nothing."
"C'mon in, talk."
Grinned, inviting; curiosity won, she hurried in. Bag on table, chugged room water in agitation. Ditched coat on chair.
"How'd you get this— what the fuck! What're you doing!?"
Seized chance: stripped bare. Her "pure" illusion crumbled fast.
"Let's talk while you service me first."
"You psycho fuck!? And why's it so huge...?! Stay back! Get the fuck away!"
Her swears hit hard. Pub mask shed in seconds.
"Be good, make it easy."
"S-stay away! I'll kill you!"
"Resistance wastes time. Tip: obey quick, ends clean."
"...Am I crazy? I'll call the cops!"
Grabbed her phone for 112; I calmed her.
"It's on timer."
"...?" Frowned at "timer." Pondered, brain stalled; I showed mine, explained.
"That pic I sent? Auto-sends on timer. 2 hours: your BF Lee Jeong-su. 3 hours: parents."
"You fu—!! Crazy dogshit bastard!"
Flared, then tilted head. "Wait... How'd you get our parents' numbers? Bluffing?"
"Bluff?"
"Th-threat creep scavenging pics and lying."
"Guess..." Dragged for drama, then: "010-6XXX-XXXX."
"!!!"
"Dad's. Drop first digits: 2XXX-XXXX, Mom's, right?"
"..."
Bluffed hard; two numbers dropped, she blanked. Phone numbers, hacking tool—easy intel. Stunned Yoon Mi-na: total victory. Approached nude, arm 'round shoulders. Bonus: kneaded her perky tits through fuzzy knit.
"See? Pointless. Let's keep it smooth."
"How the..."
"Talk later. Can chat mid-fun."
"...What do you want? K-kill that timer first."
"Nah."
"Then spill before time's up!"
Shivering legit, yelled. Shoved my hand off tits, huddled in shame. Crisis dawned; cooperative now.
"First off," Arm 'round obedient bitch, led her. Stopped bedfront. Sat edge, pointed throbbing cock. "Suck."