I'm sorry for the lack of response. I have been busy and writing fanfics isn't actually a job but a hobby. Also, there will be slight somewhere in there. also, LEAVING A REVIEW will help me update this story even more bc comments will give me more ideas and inspiration to update the story from time to time. i mean, why did the comment box existed in the first place when you keep on being a silent reader?

Miyoung blinked, her cherry red lips pursed and her brows knitted in confusion. She was so sure that she heard wrong; however, Taeyeon's reflection, who had been staring at her expectantly, proved that she has said the opposite of what she thought she heard. "Excuse me?" she asked as she moved away from leaning to the door frame of the other girl's bathroom to being beside her. "Did I hear what I just heard?"

Taeyeon nodded firmly, biting her lower lip whilst continuing to look at her best friend’s reflection through the mirror. "I'm serious, Miyoung," she confirmed, "I'm going to do it. I'll prove them wrong."

Blinking again, the red-haired Hwang heiress offered the brunette female a dumbstruck look before facing her. "Seriously?" she questioned, a frown etched on her lips by then with her delicate brows knitted, "What good would that do to you? You're not going to prove anything to anyone— you're Kim ing Taeyeon, for Pete's sake!"

The other flinched on her best friend’s speech, knowing all too well that Hwang Miyoung doesn't cuss for any invaluable reason.

"I know," Taeyeon countered, looking down at her hands which had settled itself on the counter, "but I'm just so tired of all this. It's eating me out— making me mad!" Closing her eyes, she sighed, "I just want to change for the sake of changing. I want to experience my life without being praised as someone pure, innocent and delicate because you know that I'm not exactly like that. I touch myself at night, I watch , and I read . I even know how to have from all those video tapes that Jongin left behind!"

Miyoung her lips in contemplation, nodding to herself because as far as anybody knows, Taeyeon is much erted than she looks; she just knows how to hide well. "You do have a point but…" she groaned, "are you really serious about this? What you’re planning might end badly and there's no going back. Your records will be stained. Just... think of it for a few more—"

"No!" Taeyeon interrupted, giving an enrage look at Miyoung. "I've already decided. I'm doing it, period."

Mumbling a soft profanity under her breath, Miyoung looked over at Taeyeon's spot and seeing that there's nothing that could change her best friend’s mind, there was nothing left for her to do but to nod in agreement. 

Taeyeon smiled at that, relieved that this girl beside her understands her more than anyone; she could never ask for more.

"Alright," Miyoung began after a deep sigh, moving behind Taeyeon to place both her hands on each of the smaller girl's shoulders before looking back at her reflection again. "Let's start with your hair— what color do you think would fit you best?"

  o o 2   .  S  H  O R T   |  H  A  I  R   .   o o 2  

It was a bustling night at the busiest city— Seoul— of South Korea wherein Kim Jongin is, silent and wandering. He had to wrap his arms around his torso to prevent himself from getting anymore cold as the wind breezed past him, making his teeth grit and spine shiver automatically. He even had no idea as to why he chose not to wear his leather jacket after leaving the house, blaming his sister's best friend for kicking him out hastily without a proper reason.

Sighing heavily, he watched the puff of smoke escape from his lips, the mist creating a small cloud above him, and he smiled bitterly at that; it showed that he needs to find a place to stay at this hour or else he might turn into ice. 

He wet his lips before trudging faster towards the coffee shop just ahead of him, perfectly avoiding bumping shoulders with the other people on his way. He shook his head under the waiting shed outside the shop, trying to get rid of the bleakness under its fluorescent lights, as if it was to ever help him no matter how, before pushing the door open and hearing the chime of the bell above him.
His eyes surveyed the contents of the room, seeing no one around exce