(2) You enter the room that is on the direct opposite (i.e. you turned right instead of left at the lift)  _______________   When my seniors told me that college days would be "gone in a daze", I didn't expect it to be literal. At the very least, I would expect to end my freshman orientation week in a more sober state. I couldn't recall anything that happened that night, nor how I manage to stumble against the weight of my-similarly-drunk-friends all the way back to the dorms. We reeked of alcohol and was an unsightly mess. Yet our minds were dancing on cloud nine, too lost to bring ourselves back to senses. I must have left them at some point, probably by the road as they tumbled and fell. Did I laugh then? Probably. I could be mean when I get drunk. Being drunk that night was accidental. I hardly drink, so when my friends tested my limits, it didn't take long for the alcohol to overcome my system. Miraculously, I stayed on my two feet all the way back to the familiar sight of the dormitories. Anything thereafter, I heard from him in time to come.    - ∞ -   If there is one thing that a girl should be fearful of after a drinking party, it is waking up in an unfamiliar room, and finding a pair of eyes staring at you. Regardless of how kind, concerned or warm those eyes are, they simply won't have a calming effect on you.    "Are you alright?" He asked cautiously, evidently worried for me.    I sat up so abruptly that the headache from the hangover immediately came upon me. The migraine was pounding hard on my temples, but it was not enough to distract me from the potential danger that I was in. I kept my gaze firm on the boy before me.    It took me a while to register that it was Dongwoo, the boy who stayed on my floor at the dormitories, except that his room was the one symmetrically opposite mine along the corridor. Yet I was not about to let my guard down.    "Why am I here?" I asked firmly. My head was hurting and I could still smell the alcohol in my hair.    "You were really drunk last night, so I guess you accidentally took the wrong turn at the lift and entered my room instead? I tried bringing you back but your room was locked and I couldn't find you key. So I thought I'll just let you rest here for the night."   As the words he said slowly hit me, I looked around the room to assess the situation. I was in his bed, which he obviously gave up for the sleeping bag that was now beneath his feet. There was a tub and towel by the bed, which brought back vague memories of someone putting something cold on my cheeks last night while I was flushed from the alcohol. His room was very neat, with family photos neatly lined up on the wall, and other photos which I presumed were his friends or some sort of dance crew. He also had an assortment of funny figurines, Marvel posters and random fashion items that I would judge so badly on a daily basis, but not at the moment. Not after I discovered I had trespassed someone's room and disturbed their sleep for such outrageous behaviour. I gave myself a mental kick for thinking this lovely neighbour of mine could have harmed me in anyway.    "I'm sorry for my tone earlier. I was just startled when I woke up to see you." I clutched his stuffed baby dinosaur toy tighter as my stomach churned with guilt.   "Don' worry. I've met with these kinds of situations loads of times. My crew drinks often so I always have to take care of them."   Oh boy, what a nice creature. The guilt was compounding in me.    "Are you alright? Do you need anything? You still look kinda pale..."   The guilt was almost overbearing my senses, and overpowering my headache.    "Yeah I am."   "You sure? I think I know some way to reduce hangovers. I can go get you some tea if you want? Or do you need more cold water to cool down? You cold? You need a jacket?"    Oh the guilt, the guilt!   "Anything I can do for you? Are you late for class? I can give you a ride on my bike! I think I have an extra helme-"   "Stop!" I raised a hand to stop his incessant string of nagging and overflowing motherly concerns.    In an unexpected move, I turned around and reached for the tub beside the bed.    It wasn't just the guilt that was churning after all.    - ∞ -   Usually in college, it takes failing a test, winning a competition or drinking together to make close friends. Puking in their room is not one of those options. Yet somehow from that eventful morning when I woke up in the absurd disarray of junk in Dongwoo's room, and puked over his very ugly African print pants on the floor, we became really good friends. Or at least, he was a great friend to have. Not sure if I could say that was true the other way around.    That morning ended up with him taking me to the hospital on his bike. It was really an overreaction since I heard that was pretty common for hangovers. Yet the boy was just overly concerned about my momentary illness, rather than his beloved pants. I had to prove to him that I was alright after the hospital trip by cleaning up the mess personally. That took a while, because he had initially refused to let me clean.    Having Dongwoo around was like having a mum away from home, a true friend away from fairytale dreamlands. If there was anything that defined our friendship, it was questions. It all started with a set of questions anyway. What amazed me was that Dongwoo always had an undying curiosity for me and my boring life, and sensitivity to my well-being. "Have you had lunch?" "Do you like this brand of juice too?" "Do you wanna try dancing?" "Why are you studying literature?" "Do you prefer a blue dress or red pants?" "Would you rather Paris or Scotland for holidays?" "You wanna try pants with tribal prints?"   He could never quite let go of the pathetic sight of me puking in front of him, so I guess the impression stuck. He banned me from drinking again, which I did not find a problem at all. Booze was an overrated thing anyway.    He taught me that people could be drunk on a lot more worthier things than a bottle of alcohol. He was drunk on laughter, dance and life. On my gloomiest of days he would pop by my room and pass me a new icecream flavour he just discovered, or show me a new dance move he managed to master. His thoughts were always jumping from one thing to another, and everything seemed like an adventure with him.    Dongwoo was a dancer, and so he was always going around joining competitions with his crew. Somehow, I became a regular at their dance sessions after he realised I really liked watching him dance. He gave off this carefree vibe that was much needed for school life. He would always boast to his friends that my cooking was great, although to be honest I was quite pathetic. He must have been really hungry after all those dance practices. After a few times, the crew and I reached an unsaid pact that I would pack them free food from the dorms, while Dongwoo enjoyed my horrendous cooking attempts. I suffered with him for that reason.    If you hadn't noticed it from our first meeting yet, Dongwoo was the kind of person to care for others more than himself. Which might have explained why he was always the last to leave their practice room each time, because he always volunteered to clean up. "And she's with me anyway! So it'll be faster for both of us to clean up together." Why did I sign up to be friends of an idiot? Yet I enjoyed those nights of