Cora stood in front of the mirror that hung from the cramped bedroom door, twirling her body so she could see her outfit in every angle. She was so nervous she could feel her stomach knotting around itself. She had a date with Mark that day. It had been months since they’d seen each other, actually seen each other, in person. She didn’t count skype calls, or phone calls of course.

“Oh my god, do I look fat?” Cora whispered.

Maria, who was sitting on the top of their shared bunch, gasped. “Are you mental? Cora, you’ve lost weight since he'd last seen you.” She gave her a stern look, but it did nothing for Cora.

She turned back to the mirror and held her stomach. “What if I lost too much weight? Oh my god, what if he thinks I’m starving myself?” Maria groaned and flopped onto her back on her bed. She was in the middle of waiting for Youngjae to video call her. They’d been promising to see each other in person, but he hadn’t gotten a chance to sneak away just yet. “I don’t know how I feel about this skirt.” Cora groaned, spinning in front of the mirror again.

She was wearing a black flare skirt with a oversized gray sweater and black sheer tights. She wore a pair of heeled black booties and her hair was curled. “Do I look too winter?”

“A little. I mean, you’re wearing a sweater in the middle of summer.” Maria pitched, and Cora groaned. “But it’s cute, and since most of your clothes are back at the old apartment, I say go for it.”

Cora whined and stomped her foot, staring at the mirror, at the unsatisfactory outfit. “But what if Mark thinks I look like an idiot?”

Maria groaned. “Then change Cora! Jeez, you’re so weird sometimes.”

Cora took one last look at herself in the mirror, and ran towards the closet. She returned with a flowering flare skirt and a burgundy short sleeve shirt, which had a cutout back and lace collar. She quickly changed, replaced her heels with beige  ones, and pulled her hair into a high ponytail. “Better?” She asked Maria.

Maria draped herself lazily over the bed to look at her friend. She nodded her head. “Better.”

The bedroom door opened and MinHee walked in, yawning. She stopped when she spotted Cora, and the massive dump of clothes on the floor, and frowned. “Are you freaking out over this date?”

“No.” Cora answered immediately.

“Yes.” Maria said at the same time.

MinHee smiled, and Cora threw her head back, her shoulders slouching and a small groan escaping her lips. “Come here.” MinHee said, and Cora slid towards her. MinHee took her hands and shook her head. “Stop acting like a fool. You know he loves you regardless of what you’re wearing-”

“If she’s wearing anything at all.” Maria joked.

Both MinHee and Cora threw a glare in her direction. “Anyways,” MinHee drawled, bringing Cora’s attention back to her. “He’s excited to see you, trust me. He isn’t going to think about your clothes, or your hair, or anything like that. He’s going to think about you, and about the time the two of you will have. So stop overthinking it.”

“But what if-”

“No,” MinHee interrupted, taking Cora’s hand and lifting it, showing her the couples’ ring Mark had given her some time before. “What is this?”

“Mark’s ring.”

“And where is it?”

“On my finger.”

“Do you think he would give you something that symbolizes so much if he didn’t care about you personally, not your appearance?” MinHee asked, and Cora shook her head. “So stop being a stupid girl and go, before you’re late.”

Cora nodded and, with one final look in the mirror, she started towards the door, still unsure of herself.

Maria groaned. “Thank god. She’s been pacing in front of that mirror since you left this morning.” She rolled onto her back, reaching for her computer. “And she kept asking me if she looked fat.”

“You’ll understand soon, young grasshopper.”

“Are you kidding me?” Maria asked, peering over at MinHee. “I’m older than you, child.”  

Mark had given Cora directions that led to where their date would be, and she was far too nervous to think about the directions. She leapt into a cab, gave the driver the address, and sat back, hoping the butterflies in her stomach would die down.

They didn’t.

When the cab pulled up to the street she’d directed him to, she felt like she was going to vomit. She was shaking, her palms were sweating, and she was positive she looked like a mess. How could she have walked out of the house wearing that stupid skirt? She was so mad at herself that, as she climbed out of the car, she almost forgot to pay her toll.

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