Kim Haejin’s POV

I studied the figure standing stiffly in front of me.  In a beige, layered dress with her hair tied up in a bun. Looks like a wedding cake with a cherry on top. I felt like punching the mirror. My reflection didn’t even look like me. Do I look okay?

I took another dress off of a pile of Haemi’s dresses. Now a red satin dress with a low cleavage cut. Ugh, no, looks too ty. Why does she even have this?

Next is a simple navy dress, hanging right above my knees. I let out a therapeutic breath. Do I look okay?

I untangled my hair bun and let it down. Does it look better swept to a side? Left or right? Or should I tie it up? Ponytail or bun? Is my fringe too parted? Should I pin it up? Or let it down so it covers up a part of my face?

Why can’t it cover up my whole face?

Do I look okay?

I look horrible.

Maybe I should just tell him I have a stomach ache and not go to the wedding.

But knowing Kim Himchan, he’d probably persuade me into wearing a diaper and go.

I stared hard at my reflection for the last time. I swept my hair to a side and adjusted my fringe. Let’s just get this over with.

Himchan pulled the chair for me and smiled genuinely, “Have I mentioned how hot you look in that dress?”

“Of course not,” I replied blatantly as I sat down, “don’t you remember how I increased the radio volume every single time you tried to speak throughout our car ride to come here?”

He frowned without a word and took a seat next to me.

It was a humble, garden-themed wedding. There were less than 50 guests. Surprisingly, Himchan and I were the only ones from high school. Most were Yun and Insoo’s relatives and friends from abroad.

When Yun walked down the aisle with her father by her side, she was breath-taking – as she ever was. As she stood facing Insoo and uttered their vows, for a moment then, I almost thought true love exists.

The longest sentence you can form with two words is; I