Wooyoung's obsession had started innocently enough. He had always admired him from afar—the way he carried himself with such confidence, how he seemed to light up any room he entered. Wooyoung found himself thinking about him more and more, even setting photos as his phone background.

But over time, the obsession grew into something darker. Wooyoung began to feel like he needed him, that his life wouldn't be complete without him. He started following him on social media, liking and commenting on every post. He even created fan accounts dedicated to him, pouring hours into editing photos and videos.

Wooyoung's friends and family grew concerned. They could see how consumed he was, how he neglected everything else in his life—the unwashed dishes piling up in his apartment, the missed calls from loved ones, the way his eyes would glaze over when anyone tried to talk about something that wasn't related to his fixation. But Wooyoung brushed off their worries.

He was his world now.

When Wooyoung met Guy, he saw an opportunity. Guy had the same sharp features, the same warm smile. Wooyoung became determined to mold Guy into his perfect version. He paid for Guy to get plastic surgery to match the looks as closely as possible. He bought Guy the same clothes, taught him the same mannerisms, even coached him on speech patterns and favorite phrases.

Wooyoung knew it was wrong, knew he was crossing lines that shouldn't be crossed. But he couldn't stop. The more Guy looked like him, the more Wooyoung wanted—needed—to believe this could work. He would stare at Guy for hours, touching his face with trembling fingers, tracing his jawline and memorizing every feature as if committing them to permanent memory. Guy started to feel like a living doll, an object for Wooyoung's obsession rather than a person with his own thoughts and feelings.

Molding Guy into a doppelganger was his ultimate goal. He wanted to be with him so badly that he was willing to create his own version.