“Oh my God!” exclaims your friend Reena throwing her hands up in the air like some kind of wiggly worm with arms. “B.A.P. is coming to our school! OMG, I want to like, die from over exposure to the most amazing piece of news I have ever heard in my life! I mean, coming all the way to Sydney! Just to attend school! This must be fate Hazel!”

You look at her, unaffected by her happiness virus and quite frankly, uninterested. “You know I don’t really care, Reena,” you shrug at her. “I don’t even know who these people are.”

As usual she sighs at you and your great disregard to the many things that kids from your generation were into these days. Like K-pop. Ever since PSY had come out with ‘Gangnam Style,’ K-pop was rising with a boom from the confines of the internet and into the real world, showcasing their cute boy and girl groups with flashing ads in YouTube and so many other places. Now, almost everyone in the world knows of the existence of K-pop and its boy and girl groups.

“You know, you should be more sociable. I mean, you’re really pretty and you’re nice, you could make so many friends easily. The only problem is,” she pokes your cheek as she says this, “You’re way too shy. All you ever do is read books in the library or under that tree, and I’m practically your only friend.”

It was true, unlike you; Reena was friends with almost everybody in the school. She’s had so many boyfriends you could never keep count and she was always the funny and talkative one. The type to get along well with everybody, no matter who they were. Even if they were you.

Then you’re suddenly conscious of yourself. You don’t think there’s anything that stands out much about you. You’re just a normal girl living a normal life. Your hazel coloured hair spills down your back in natural slight curls and your skin is only slightly tanned, That isn’t all that pretty in your opinion, you’ve seen better. Maybe the only ‘pretty’ thing about you, you think, are your big eyes, bright emerald with flecks of gold and very light brown.

You just look at her helplessly in response. Reena sighs once more, then perks straight up, “Alright then, want to get some blueberry ice cream?” she asks, flashing you a big smile. Suddenly you’re thankful for having such a good friend by your side.

“Yeah, that sounds good. If you want, you can talk about this B.A.P. group you keep blabbing on about.”

She just laughs.

A week later, as you walk to the school gates, you’re still half-asleep with a regular cup of coffee in your hands. You can’t walk properly, the cold winter air biting your skin with its frosty teeth, though it isn’t enough to wake you up.

You stumble towards the school gate, bleary eyed and then you crash into something, rather someone really tall. Your coffee slips off your hands and flies onto both of your clothes.

That wakes you up. Quite abruptly.

You jump backwards and blurt out a thousand apologies before you come up to the giant and start dabbing at his clothes with a handkerchief hastily pulled out of your bag. You don’t look at his face until he speaks to you, smooth and y, his English heavily accented.

“A handkerchief? I don’t usually see people bringing one around with them,” he says, not mockingly. He chuckles, “Don’t worry about me and worry about yourself instead. You’re covered in coffee too, you know? It’s winter here in Australia.” He then proceeds to take off his miraculously unstained jacket and drapes it over you.

“Here, use this,” he says. You try to say no but all he says in response is, “Nope, you’re wearing this whether you like it or not.”

You then look at him, taking in his handsome features. Blonde hair with a hint of blue. Asian. Whoa, a blonde Asian. A pair of the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen. “Well, hope to see you around?” he says. You’re heart skips a beat and all you could seem to do was nod. He gives you a big grin and walks away towards another group of blondes, all seeming to be Asian.

Weird, you never knew there were blonde Asians in the school. You stare after them as they walk into the school. The boy looks to you once more and waves a hand. You feel your cheeks heat up. What the hell? Why am I blushing? You wave back and make your way into the school as well, putting on the boy’s jacket properly.

There weren’t any blonde Asians in the school, or else Reena would have known about them. The group of blondes were B.A.P., and the boy that she just casually spilt her coffee on this morning was Zelo, the youngest or the ‘maknae’ of the group. He was also apparently an incredibly fast rapper, rapping around 16 syllables per second, or so Reena says.

You keep your meeting with him a secret from Reena. Until, that is, Zelo transfers into your homeroom class, and practically every other class you’re in.

As soon as your teacher for homeroom says that one of the members of B.A.P. would be partnered up with one of the students from the class and would be in the same classes as them for the semester that they would be staying in the school for, you stiffen.

A tall blonde –with a bit of blue- haired boy strides into the room and exclaims in surprise when he sees you.

“It’s the coffee girl from this morning!”