This is so humiliating.

I stare at the bathroom mirror and see a refined woman looks back at me challengingly with long, straight blonde locks and bangs, wearing white turtle neck under baby pink cardigans and crème-colored knee length skirt. Her doe-like eyes are highlighted with volume-expander mascaras and her small, pouty lips are coated with translucent pink lip-gloss, enhancing her natural beauty. Except that she isn't a she but rather a he because that is actually me in a woman clothing. Eww.

I blow my bangs in irritation, but the woman staring back at me from the mirror makes the action seems cute rather than intimidating. A groan of frustration escapes me. I am a 27 years old tycoon heir with a master degree in business, so what am I doing here in a woman bathroom at a Korean university, miles away from my home in Beijing?

Oh, right. It is another stupid 'challenge' from my equally moronic father who desperately wants to turn me straight. This time, he asks me to pass a year as a woman undergrad student while staying in a women dormitory, without anyone finding out that I am a man. It is a ridiculous task that wouldn't benefit anyone--I know, especially with me having to leave my post in the company for a year--but the more competitive part of me couldn't pass the chance to slap his face with my victory over his silly demand. Besides, I am more beautiful than most women that I know, so this won't be too difficult, right?

Wrong.

The thick wig is making me sweating like a pig (yuck!), the bra is suffocating my chest, and the skirt, yes, nothing has ever made me more insecure than the ing skirt, which allow too much air passing by my lower regions. My perfect thighs and buttocks, I mean. Get your mind out of the gutter, okay?

A girl goes through the door while I am struggling to make the bra somehow more comfortable, so my hands immediately fly to the front of my shirt and straighten it, before grabbing my pink-white polkadots suitcase. Don't judge me; it's something that I bought to support my charade as a perfectly feminine girl, not my personal preference, mind you. When the girl looks at me with suscpicion, I throw her a sweet eye-smile and drag my feet out of the bathroom.

It's show time.

I stop in front of a door numbered '201'. I am supposed to share the room with a girl, which probably is the main purpose of my father's challenge. He might have thought that if I were exposed to a woman in her most vulnerable states, my inner desire toward women would be awakened. Little does he know that he may hire a full-figured hooker to strip in front of me but I still wouldn't budge. I just don't roll that way, old man.

I chuckle at the thought of my father's failed plan before I knock. There isn’t any answer even after the third knock, so I assume that my roommate hasn't arrived. I use my key and unlock it.

As soon as the door is opened, the smell of vanilla filled my olfactory system. Women and their love of sweet scents. I scrunch my nose and pull my suitcase inside. I am not exactly a fan of the fragrant, albeit my naturally feminine appearance. I am more into masculine colognes, if anything. When I step inside, I am greeted with the sight of a modest-sized, white-painted room. Futuristic seems to be the theme of the dorm, as all the furniture are sleek and monochromatic. A black, three-seat couch stands in the middle of the room, facing the door I've just stepped in. White, wooden cupboards are placed behind the couch, next to a metallic silver bunk bed.

However, I realize someone is already inside of the room, arranging stuffs on one of the two desks near the bunk bed. The stranger's back facing me is wide, clothed in red varsity jacket, with sleeves rolled at the elbows. My eyes widen in disbelief.

This can't be. With the broad shoulder, lean but defined pale arms, short black hair, and uncurvy legs donned in straight jeans, the person in front of me must have been a guy. And damn, I am so digging boys in varsity jacket, especially the ones that use it like him. I mean, look at those inviting arms, highlighted by the rolled sleeves!

I shake my head fervently to bring myself back into reality. This is a women dorm, so I must have been roomed with a girl. Maybe she is just a tomboy.

One with a damn fine figure, at that.

I clear my throat, but my roomate doesn't pay any heed to it, maybe because of that black Beats headphone she--(or he? I am really hoping for a he)--is wearing. I scoot closer and tap my roomate's shoulder. She is startled, dropping the table calendar she was holding, and turns back at me while sliding the headphone down her ears. She straightens her stance and I realize that she is only less than 10 cm shorter than me, which is quite impressive for a girl as I am pretty tall. She has a really pale complexion, almost as white as a printing paper, with oval-shaped face decorated by small but prominent nose and thin, pinkish lips. Her small but sharp, clear orbs scrutinize me for a split second before curving into friendly cresents as she grins at me boyishly, emanating a pretty boy aura.

"Hey, you must be my roommate, right? Welcome!"

I bit my lower lip as I blush because damn, I am a much bigger er for pretty, fluffy-looking boys. It doesn't help that her voice is in smooth and warm, low alto tone, effectively raising the hair on the back of my neck. I nod before forcing my lips into a smile, making her (or his? It must be his!) Grin grows wider.

"My name is Kim Jihye. What's yours?"

She stretches out her hand for a handshake. When my palm gets in contact with her softer and smaller one, the fact of her being a girl jolts me back into reality. I clear my throat before I let out my practiced, higher tone, that somehow resembles girls' voice more than my actual one.

"I'm Xi Lulu, nice to meet you, Jihye-ssi."

"Likewise, Lulu-ssi."

As her grin evolves into a charming, yet still playful, smile, my heart feels like stopping.

Oh, damn it!

TBC

an: so... that is the first chapter ^^ How is it?

Tell me how you feel in the comment box below ^^

with love,

himalayancat