“Thank you for showing me all that today,” I say. “The pool hall, the diner, everything you told me. I feel like—”

But my words fall away as Yong Hwa’s strong hands land on my hips, circling around the small of my back. He pulls me to him, and I lift my hands to his broad shoulders. As if by instinct, I tilt my face toward his, and lean heavily against him as his lips come down on mine. His strong, firm mouth moves against my own, and I feel his tongue slide against mine. Our mouths move together, and I try my best to memorize the taste of him. He pulls away just an inch and looks down into my flushed face.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he smiles, stepping away from me.

I watch him walk away, the feel of his lips lingering on my skin. By some miracle, I manage to get the front door open, trudge upstairs, and collapse onto my bed. Sleep rushes in to claim me for a few short hours, before my next stint as a rock star’s groupie.

My sleep is filled with thoughts of Yong Hwa. My imagination runs through dozens of scenarios, each ier than the last. I think of how wonderful it would feel to give myself over to him, to trust my body to his the way we’ve already begun to trust our hearts. It’s a wonder that I even manage to sleep a wink, I’m so excited for what comes next. Thank god for days off—though I’m sure this will all catch up with me eventually. I try not to think about what happens once this ride is over. If I’m honest with myself, I don’t want it to ever end.

When I open my eyes, the sky is dusky. Evening has just rolled around. Though I’ve only gotten a few hours of sleep, my entire body feels energized. Yong Hwa’s kiss electrified every cell in my body. I need to feel that spark again, to feel it build inside of me as our bodies come together. If just one kiss has me craving Yong Hwa like this, what will happen when we...? If we...? It’s almost too much to think about. I’ve never wanted anyone like this before. Before, being with a guy has always felt like settling. But this is a whole different story.

I look helplessly at my closet, rifling through my clothes for anything appropriate that I might wear. My current cut off and tank top ensemble is fine, but I want to wear something that will really knock Yong Hwa out. I realize, looking through an endless series of sundresses, that I need to call in a professional. I rummage through my purse and pull out my cell phone. I punch in Se Young’s number and listen to the phone as it rings.

“Shin Hye?” says a sleepy voice on the other end of the line. “What’s up?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” I say. “Forget about it.”

“Well, I’m up now,” she grumbles. “What do you need?”

“Uh...” I start, “So, the thing is. Um. About Yong Hwa...”

“What about Yong Hwa?” Se Young asks. I can hear her piqued interest through the phone.

“Well, he didn’t exactly bounce as abruptly as we thought,” I say. “When I got home from my shift...He was waiting at my house, to say good—”

My words are cut off by a loud, shrill screech blaring across the line. Se Young is just a little bit excited for me, as it would happen. She’s letting loose with disjointed, ecstatic syllables, none of which I can make out. I smile into the phone—there’s nothing quite like Se Young’s enthusiasm to get a girl riled about something.

“What happened? Tell me everything!” she finally spits out.

“We got in his car,” I say.

“And did it?” she asks.

“No,” I laugh, “We drove to Busan, to this old pool hall where his band used to play. He brought his guitar, he wanted to visit and pay tribute, I guess. He played a couple songs he was working on...they were amazing. And I thought for a second that something was going to happen—”

“You did it in the pool hall?” she bursts out.

“No!” I say, “He took me to this old diner he used to go to with the band. And the waitress remembered him, and there was practically a shrine dedicated to him on the wall, and they even had a sandwich named after him. It was an amazing sandwich, by the way.”

“I couldn’t care less what kind of sandwich you ate,” Se Young says, “When and where and how did you do it?”

“Well...” I say, “We didn’t quite. He brought me home, and asked me to come to his concert tonight. This one’s going to be a real concert, not like this morning. And then he kissed me...”

Another round of screaming blasts through the phone. Se Young is losing her mind over the line, and I can’t blame her. I don’t know how I’m keeping it together myself.

“You’re going to go, right?” she demands.

“I mean...Yeah,” I say, “I think I’d better, right?”

“That’s right, you’d better!” she says. “Shin Hye...This is incredible. You kissed Jung Yong Hwa! The Jung Yong Hwa! How are you even standing right now?”

“Barely,” I say. “But Se Young, I need your help.”

“What do you need?” she asks. “I will literally do anything if it will help you get laid by a rock star. Anything in the world.”

“I just need something to wear,” I say, “Everything I own looks like it belongs to a pre-school teacher. Not that that’s a bad thing, I just think it might be a little out of place at a rock concert.”

“I’ll be there in twenty,” she says, “I can’t believe this. Little Shin Hye and the big bad rock star...”

“Trust me, I know,” I say.

The line clicks and Se Young is gone. I rush into the shower for a quick scrub down. The hot water is sweet relief against my skin. My muscles ache pleasantly, the result of having been on my feet so long. I can only hope that Yong Hwa will have me off my feet eventually. I let my hands wander over my body as I think of him, what he might do to me tonight. My fingers dance along my belly and thighs, gliding between my legs. I lean back against the wall of the shower and work myself into a state of near bliss.  Kneading and rubbing, I let myself imagine that it’s Yong Hwa touching me, me with his thick, strong fingers. My knees are trembling in no time, and as I keep his face in my mind’s eye, I let myself go. I come, thinking of him, barely standing. The sheer force of my excitement for him nearly knocks me on my . I turn off the water, panting, and pat myself dry. I’m still getting used to acknowledging the intensity of my desire for him...but I can't remember ever feeling like this.

My doorbell rings, and I hurry to let Se Young in. She flies over the threshold, staggering under a heaping pile.

“Come on!” she says, heading up the stairs, “Time is of the essence!”

“Did you bring your entire wardrobe?” I ask.

“Please,” she says, “This barely scratches the surface.”

She flings the mountain of clothes onto my bed and starts digging through, extracting and matching pieces. She looks like a surgeon, hunkering down over a patient—the attention to detail is impressive

“Try these first,” she says, throwing a couple of pieces my way.

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