Computers would deserve to be called inteligent if they could decieve a human into thinking it was human.

Her muscles were sore, but the beeping of her alarm clock was enough to pull her on her feet. She had things to do; there was no time to waste.

She already had meals planned out. Yoora was taking her new medication and said she felt better. Maybe it was because her baby sister looked so beat up from the night before she finally took pity on her.

Truthfully, Seung believed it was because Matrix got more action than Yoora's character did, and every day she wasn't there fueled jealousy. It made her heal faster, that's for sure. Determination may be the world's best medicine.

Seung breathes through her nose and blinks at her ceiling, her eyes fuzzy and smarting. She was trying to track a recently viral virus that had been getting through emails and burning people's hard drives without warning. Entire systems have shut down and all memory lost because of this problem. She planned to find the source and try to slow it down by reading detailed instructions of how it was made to learn how to take it down, instead of risking her own computer.

It was a voluntary job. No one was asking her to do this.

Seung stands up and shivers from the cold, wishing she could curl back up under the covers and sleep more, but she knew she couldn't. Her arms were sore from the gym, and her legs were sore from having to grip the pole so hard every time she didn't want to hit the ground painfully.

Chanyeol...

Her eyes open fully and she stares at the far wall in her room. Chanyeol was there and, heck, she took money from his mouth. She just hoped he didn't know it was her. He might hit on her thinking that she was easy, or something.

She wasn't like that. He didn't know anything. She'll just continue and pretend that he mistook her for her sister. They looked enough alike to pass it off. She was wearing a mask, anyway. It's not like it was easy to recognize her.

Seung changes into random clothes that were warm enough for the cold apartment and walks into the living room, pulling a dirty shirt out of the couch cushions and planning to wash clothes later. Padding into the kitchen, she pulls out ingredients and makes a recipe by heart - simple banana muffins.They were easy, and no one has eaten any of the fruit recently.

She leaves a note when they're done for her sober father and sister when they get up, telling them to eat what ​they want. She had to wash clothes today along with her usual things.

Clothes first.

She packs a duffel bag from their hamper in the hallway and adds her usual soap and assorted things with it, tucking her lab top away and heading for the bus stop.

It wasn't his fault.

In his defense, Suho shouldn't have arrived. Baekhyun was the one who usually told them when to stop drinking, but this time he joined them. Chanyeol's never experienced a horror like the very first hangover of his life.

His head was pounding, but he recalls a water bottle being thrown at him, and a memory that it was Tuesday, and he doesn't have class on Tuesdays. No class meant no bus, and no bus meant no Seung.

Or should he call her Matrix? No, she wouldn't like that.

If Tuesdays were different for her as well, then he was missing a piece of her routine. They were the only day he didn't have remembered. It may be creepy, but he couldn't help himself. She attracted his attention so easily.

But today was when it was his turn to bring food to Sehun at work. Suho had enough money to sustain them, but insisted that the younger take a step into life first to try it out before becoming dependent on his hyung. Chanyeol only had to pack a sandwich and a few snacks, maybe a bubble tea, and drop it off at the bakery, where the maknae would be selling cookies and trying not to steal the delicacies around him..

It was easy, if only the pounding in his head would slow down. How much did he drink last night? All he could remember is sipping often whenever dances started, but he paid too much attention to look for Matrix to notice how much he actually drank.

Chanyeol groans and looks at the person in his doorway, spotting Kyungsoo giving him concerned eyes.

"Do you want some asprin?"

Chanyeol slowly nods and grimaces.

The trip to the library was enjoyable. He watched Seung get on the bus and instantly watched her to see if anything was different. He was right, because she had a large bag with her. It seemed like she was dropping something off, but he wanted to know what was in the bag. He wanted to know everything about her.

She glances in his direction and he looks away to avoid being caught staring. She seem to relax slightly after spotting him looking away, and his heart sinks a bit.

Of course she wouldn't want him looking. It's not like he was the one who gave her flowers or anything.

Chanyeol's back straightens as he mentally slaps himself. He doesn't know where they come from. He should keep quiet until he actually did know instead of make up something disappointing. She could be single, for he knows. But, after seeing her in the club, he actually was doubting that now. How could she when so many men came to watch her dance?

She disappears on a different stop, almost making Chanyeol forget that it was his stop as well. maybe she was going to the bakery, then he would be able to watch her more.

Not in a creepy way, of course.

Chanyeol grips the brown paper bag in his hands and gets off the sticky bus seat, following her off the vehicle. It slowly lumbers down the street and Chanyeol looks for Seung and her special clothing that day. She wore a green knee-length dress, but, instead of leggings like a normal girl would wear, she simply had jeans on underneath and a gray sweater over it. It fit her, he thinks, to wear something so different and slightly lazy. At least it looked cozy, unlike the tight clothes that other girls wore in this weather.

Chanyeol shivers slightly and tucks his hoodie around him more when a cold Autumn breeze whips down the street, making his eyes squint to find Seung. He huffs when he can't see her through all the people and feels a weight fall in his chest for missing her. Instead of getting sad, he looks up and anticipates seeing Sehun at work, and his face when he finds the bubble tea he packed for him.

There was always a good side to the day. He at least saw Seung, and now knows that Tuesdays were something different for her. His curiosity heightens when he thinks of her bag. Oh, how he wanted to know what was inside.

It was probably something basic and stupid, but he didn't care. He would learn something about her.

Seung pushes the glass door to the laundromat open and carries the big bag inside, scanning the area until she finds an open washer. Walking with the bag on her hip, she wobbles over and sets in on the floor, With a quick zip it's contents threaten to spill out and she scrambles clumsily to keep it all together. When she's sure it'll hold, she opens the white machine and separates the colors: whites, darks, colors. After choosing the largest pile, colors, she evenly places them in a circular pattern in the machine and is about to add soap when she notices she forgot change.

Her eyes narrow in annoyance when they land on the change machine, only to see a tapped "Out of order" sign on the front. She huffs at wasted time and grabs a five dollar bill from her pocket, smoothing the bottom of her dress out and giving glances at those around her. She wasn't going to ask them for change, no, she was going to find a store and see if they could do it for her.

The only bad part was that she would have to leave her things alone, but, she guesses, if she can leave her stuff in the machine, then she should be able to leave it out. It made her uneasy, but she finds herself stepping back out the glass doors and straight into a cold gust of air that tried to blow up her dress until she zipped her sweatshirt up and stopped it short. She refused to get cold in this weather, because this would be like summertime when Winter was over.

A few cars honk going by, but she pays them no attention. With a doubtful glance backwards, she looks at the small businesses lining the streets, seeing tanning places, gift shops, a few restaurants and a tattoo parlor. A comforting smell washes over her in the breeze and she looks for the source, spotting the old bakery that her father used to take them too before her mother died.

Shrugging her shoulders and not liking the old memories, she recalls the owners face and remembers that he was trustworthy. She would get change from him.

Her feet start down the sidewalk and towards the promise of warmth from being indoors, palms pressed against another