You were dressed in the same dress from your grandmother's party that night, the dark purple dress that you had gone all the way into the city to buy with your friend's the week before the high school dance.

                You had been a senior and you were now thinking about your future, both with school and your boyfriend at the time. You had bought the dress because it was a little bit ier than what you usually wore. You were used to your country clothes that were more simple, plain; just comfortable and nothing else.

                But you were ready to start growing up. You were 18 now and technically you were a woman. You could go into the city and buy yourself a y dress if you wanted to.

                When your boyfriend came to get you for the dance you had felt confident in yourself. You had felt good. His jaw had dropped when he saw you and he looked proud to have you on his arm at the dance. You had felt really great that night. You had felt like all eyes were on you. You had felt important.

                For the most part that was all you remembered. The rest of that night had always been a blur for you.

                You remembered some little things... like your boyfriend putting alcohol in your drink. At the time you had laughed and drank it quickly before signaling for more. You wanted only to have fun that night. The town square was full of life and noise from the senior and junior classes. Everyone was having a good time joking around and dancing. You remembered spinning in your dress for all your friends that showed interest in it. Even some of the junior classmen seemed impressed by your fancy city clothes so you showed off for them too. It had made you feel so good.

                You hadn't kept count of the drinks your boyfriend kept giving you. You had actually spent most of the night talking to other people while he kept his arm around you and sat back.

                And that was it... that was all you had remembered about the night. It had been only a fond memory for you.

                But now as you slept the memory began to change. You saw what happened as if your current self was present for it. Your much wiser self could only watch on in horror.

                Why were you so drunk? You were only 18 and you were at a school dance. What were you thinking taking so many drinks? You felt a pit of worry forming in your gut as you slept.

                You saw now how your boyfriend's eyes had looked at you as you slurred your words and poked at his lip, laughing at nothing in particular, laughing at nothing at all.

                "Let's dance," you had insisted, as you pulled on him.

                You had always loved to dance back then. You had even participated in the talent show your sophomore year, singing and dancing to a hip hop song that was popular around that time. Dancing had relieved stress for you and you had always enjoyed it and found it fun.

                Your boyfriend said he didn't want to dance that night though. He said he wanted for you both to leave. He said the dance was lame and boring. You had pouted at him and given him puppy dog eyes, having no shame whatsoever in your drunken state.

                He had agreed to dance with you, but only if you went off to the side where it was darker. He said he didn't want to go where the music was so loud. He still wanted to be able to talk.

                At the time you had thought this was sweet. You thought it was charming.

                But when you went to dance with him he didn't seem all that interested in either dancing or talking. He had started kissing your neck, his hands pawing at your body through your new dress.

                "You're so ing hot."

                You heard the whisper on your neck as if it was actually happening right then and there. You felt your muscles tighten with alarm even in your sleep.

                At that point a line had been crossed with you. Even with all the drinks he had given you, you weren't enjoying this. You just wanted to dance, maybe kiss. But the way he was touching you was too insistent, it was too rough. You hadn't gone this far with him before and you knew that at that moment it certainly wasn't the time or the place.

                As his hands went to the hemline of your dress, you began to voice your complaints louder. You told him that was enough and that you wanted to go back to your friends.

                But instead his fingers pawed roughly at your thighs beneath your dress. He pulled your leg up and pushed you into the wall. His fingers began to travel further up, his other hand going to your chest.

                You were letting out another urgent protest when his hand came to cover your mouth. You stared into his eyes that were suddenly so wild... so scary... you felt your whole body tremble.

                And then with a blur of motion your eyes couldn't follow, he was suddenly off of you. You had stumbled to the side in your heels with his body no longer against you, holding you to that wall. You just barely managed to keep your balance with the way your legs quaked.

                Your attention wasn't on yourself for the moment though. Instead you watched through blurred vision as another figure pushed your boyfriend to the ground, hovering over him as his fist connected with his cheek once, then twice and then a third time. You let out a surprised shout as you heard the sound the punches made. Your boyfriend merely cried out in pain and held his hands over his face in defense.

                The new person wasn't done with him though.

                You watched as this person gripped your boyfriend's shirt by the collar with both hands, lifting his head off the ground so it was close to his own face as he said something to him. You couldn't hear his words. You could only see your boyfriend's face as he stared up at him with a look of terror, blood running from his nose now. After a moment your boyfriend nodded to the other person, agreeing to whatever it was he had said before the new guy let him go.

                Your boyfriend didn't even look at you as he got to his feet and ran off as fast as he could. You watched him go in disbelief before looking back to the stranger that was with you now.

                This new person still wasn't facing you as he watched your boyfriend run away. All you could see of this stranger was his back, which heaved with angry breaths. He wore a shirt that was white and long sleeved, the bottom tucked neatly into his dress pants, the arms bunched around his elbows. He was wearing a thin belt and as he finally turned you saw he was also wearing a thin black tie.

                His face was a blur in your memory of him. All of it had been forgotten. But as you watched the dream play out now you felt your body stiffen in your sleep with surprise.

                It was him. It was Hoya.

                The boy you now knew as Hoya came over to stand in front of you. He didn't say anything. His expression was pained as he searched your face. His hands were out by his sides, but he didn't try to touch you.

                And then you had started to cry. You closed your eyes and tried to fight the tears that came relentlessly, falling in heavy drops from beneath your eyelashes to roll down your cheeks.

                You were still afraid. You knew you should probably be running. You had just been assaulted and you didn't know this person with you now. For all you knew he intended to do the same thing to you.

                As you had the thought you suddenly felt something touch your shoulders and you let out a surprised scream as your eyes snapped back open. You lashed out at Hoya as he took a step back, his eyes wide with surprise.

                "I won't hurt you," he said quickly, his hands up in front of him innocently. With just one finger he pointed to your shoulders. "I just want to help."

                You looked down to see he hadn't even been touching you, instead he had put a jacket over you. The black jacket matched his pants and had most likely been tossed aside before the scuffle.

                You looked down at the jacket on you and only cried more. Now you felt guilty. He really was just trying to help and you were so drunk and emotional you were lashing out at him.

                "I'm sorry," you cried then, feeling so much guilt weighing you down suddenly. "I'm so sorry. What did I do? It's my fault."

                "It's okay," he insisted then, as he moved just a little bit closer. His voice was soothing and reassuring as he continued. "It's not your fault. You've done nothing wrong."

                It looked like he wanted to do something with his hands, like he wished there was something he could do for you. He kept his eyes trained on your eyes as he came even closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth coming off of him now.

                He tentatively reached towards you then. You naturally took a shaky step back and he stopped moving, waiting a moment before reaching to you again. This time you just watched as he slowly and carefully handled the lapels of his jacket and began buttoning it up, covering you up without coming close to touching you.

                After the coat was buttoned he took a big step back, clearly not wanting to crowd you or make you uncomfortable after what happened. He seemed shy now and a bit awkward as he scratched at the back of his head.

                You felt your tears slow as you focused on him instead of your fear and disgust at what had happened moments before. You looked him up and down carefully now and found that you weren't afraid of him. Instead you began to lose the tension in your body as you searched his face and tried to read him.

                 You saw only pure concern in his big round eyes. Really the more you looked you began to realize that not only was he not scary, but he was actually kind of cute. He was a little short but still taller than you. His face appeared young, sweet, innocent. He made you feel safe. He made you feel better.

                "Do you want me to get one of your friends?" he asked then anxiously. "Or do you want to call someone? Or report your boyfriend? I'll help you with whatever you want. I'll stay with you....if you want."

                You had lowered your head then and let out a long shaky breath, considering his words.

                "I just want to go home," you responded, your voice trembling along with your lips now. "Can you bring me home?"

                Hoya had nodded emphatically then and motioned for you to lead the way. He stayed close by your side as you walked clumsily in your heels, even more clumsily than how you walked when your drunken state was your only issue. Now you were shaky too, your body still trembling after what happened.

                 "I can carry you if you want," he had offered anxiously as he watched you, his face showed his concern that you'd fall. His hands were out and ready to catch you if he needed to. "You can climb on my back if you want."

                You shook your head in response, not wanting to trouble this nice guy any more.

                "I think walking might help sober me up," you lied politely.

                You didn't want him to think you were scared of him. You were worried you might hurt his feelings.

                "Thank you though," you said then, slurring your words slightly. "You're cute."

                You stumbled forward another step, not noticing at first that he had stopped walking. You turned back to him to see his eyes were wide with surprise. His eyes shined like dark pools, the separation between his iris and pupil indiscernible.

                "What's wrong?" you asked him, smiling sloppily at his expression that was so sweet and innocent it actually made you forget what had just happened to you moments before.

                In fact what had happened to you? You were already beginning to forget it entirely, the adrenaline mixed with the alcohol blurring the entire thing.

                The sweet boy you now knew to be Hoya cleared his head visibly before walking back up to your side. He was quiet for a moment as the two of you walked along, your feet naturally leading you towards home.

                "Do you really think I'm cute?" he asked then, drawing surprised laughter from you.

                You shoved his arm playfully, accidently putting most, if not all, of your body weight into the shove which consequentially sent Hoya down to the ground.

                "Oh my god. I'm sorry!" you apologized even as you laughed. You thought nothing of your bare knees as you dropped down in the dirt road beside him and tried to help him up. "I guess I don't know my own strength."

                Hoya had stiffened the moment you touched him, his whole body was rigid as he looked into your eyes with his own wide ones again.

                "Are you okay?" you asked then, feeling concern replace your previous state of happy drunken delirium. "Did I hurt you?"

                "No, I'm fine," he answered quickly, so quickly it made you suspicious.

                "You liar," you said with an accusing finger pointed at him and a big smile on your face. "You can't lie to me."

                Hoya looked at you with those wide and shocked eyes. He reminded you of a cute little puppy with the way he stared at you with stars in his eyes. Did you know him somehow maybe? The way he looked at you it was as if he knew you at least. He didn't look even slightly familiar to you though, but then again you were very drunk.

                "How old are you?" you asked then.

                Hoya was still sitting on the ground where he had landed after his fall and you felt plenty comfortable kneeling down in front of him, his big jacket covering you completely now. You were only focused on him, your head feeling light.  

                "Se-Seventeen," he answered shakily.

                For some reason he seemed younger to you, but you had a feeling it was because he was just very sweet and also possibly intimidated by you. You were in rare form after all. When you were drunk you were much louder and more abrasive. Your natural form was more like his; sweet, awkward, shy, and innocent.

                But right now you weren't at all yourself.

                "That means I'm a year older than you," you told him with a smirk. "That makes me your noona."

                He stared at you in utter bewilderment before finally seeming to get himself back together. He climbed to his feet quickly and then reached down for your elbows, lifting you to your feet.

                "I need to get you home," he said hurriedly as he held your elbow firmly and began to lead you back down the road.