"You're not concentrating." Her mother's eyebrows knitted together as they both sat in front of the computer screen. She shut down the window illustrating the lineage of the Tudors and studied Hyomin. "Perhaps a boyfriend isn't such a good idea after all."

"I'm just tired," Hyomin said grumpily. She hadn't slept properly for days. She hadn't dreamed of anything either.

"Well, you're not sleepwalking at least." She sighed and put the lid back on her pen. "That phase is over, thank goodness."

Hyomin grunted, thinking how she missed it, in a way. She missed Jaejoong.

"What is it?" Her mum leaned closer, her hand creeping over to Hyomin's. "I thought it went well with Hyuna."

"Yeah it went okay." Hyomin wrinkled her nose. "It was kind of nothing in the end ... After all that."

"And now you feel flat?" She held on to her hand. "Now that weight has come off."

"Maybe. I suppose it was a bit of anticlimax."

"What did you want? A cat fight?"

"No..." Hyomin looked restlessly around the kitchen. "But it was too easy."

"Well, that's good." Her mum let go of her hand and started gathering up pens and books. "Drama is not good. Believe me."

She set her lips and Hyomin wondered what drama she had let go of.

"Eomma, have you still got that blue dress?"

"Blue dress?" She stopped what she was doing. "I don't think I ..."

"The one you're wearing in the picture. On my chest of drawers ... It's satin or something like that."

Her mum thought for a second then her face softened.

"Oh. That dress." She relaxed in her seat. "I haven't thought about that for years. Your grandmother made me that dress."

"Grandma Shinhye?" Hyomin sat up.

"She made it when she was recovering ..." Her mum said wistfully. "You remember she had cancer when she was in her fifties."

Hyomin nodded. Grandma Shinhye had made a full recovery before she was born. Still alive and very much kicking, albeit hundreds of miles away.

"I wish she'd made a dress like that for me," Hyomin said, staring into space.

"And so the day has come!" Her mum clapped her hands together. "My little boy finally wants to be a girl."

"Eomma!" A flush was creeping up her cheeks. "It's just a beautiful dress, that's all."

"It's yours," she said, happily. "If I can find it ... and if it fits you."

"Really?"

"Let's go and look for it now." Her mum got up, shooing away the dog, who looked curiously at the two of them. "It' somewhere up there. It must be."

------

An hour later, Hyomin stood in her parents' bedroom holding the blue satin dress. They'd found it in the attic in a huge suitcase, along with the rest of her mum's discarded clothings from decades ago.

"Can I have this, too?" she'd said, clutching a striped sailor top, perfectly faded with a wide boat neck.

"Of course," her mum said, smiling. "I never took that off when I was a teenager. Your grandma used to beg me to wear a dress ..." She stopped and they stared at each other and started to laugh.

"I know," Her mum said, shaking her head sheepishly. "I was just like you once."

"Here," she said now as Hyomin stood half in her bedroom. She took the dress from her, holding it so that Hyomin could step into it. "Pull it up gently."

Hyomin did as she was told, slipping her arms through the delicate sleeves. Her mum moved behind her to zip it up. Hyomin was holding in her stomach, certain that something so exquisite and tiny would be too small, but as her mum stepped away from her, Hyomin realised it fitted perfectly. She looked down to see the blue satin shimmering like two-tone, huggin her waist and hips comfortably. Now that she had actual s the top filled out, leaving just enough room to make it sophisticated. The neckline ran straight from one shoulder to the other, dipping a little lower in the centre.

Her mum fiddled with something at the back, then put her hands on Hyomin's shoulders, pushing her towards the mirror.

"Look," she ordered, and Hyomin raised her head to examine her reflection, opening slightly at what she saw.

"God," she said breathily. "I don't look like me."

With nothing covering up her neck and shoulders, her hair draped in big dark curls on to her bare flesh, which was pale, but she had to admit, flawless. And for the first time she acknowledged her shape properly. It was a woman's shape, not straight up and down, not skinny, but not fat either.

"You're perfectly in proportion," she said, adjusting the neckline a little. "My beautiful girl."

"I wouldn't got that far," Hyomin said awkwardly, thought it was hard not to gaze admiringly at the vision in the mirror. "But I could scrub up well, I suppose."

She saw her mother roll her eyes behind me. "You'll have to get that boyfriend of yours to take you somewhere where you can show it off."

She looked back at her reflection and smiled. "I'm sure something will come up."

"I'll have it cleaned," said her mum, brushing at the fabric. "I just hope you don't grow any more before you get the chance to wear it."

Suddenly Hyomin felt a jerk of excitement at arriving at the Great Ball in this wonderful dress. It transformed her even she could see that.

------------------

Sorry guise. Short chapter today. Not in the mood for some reason ):

I'm still debating whether to end this story off with JaeMin or JoonMin.

So ... which side are you guise on? :3

@loveternallyou : hmm. i'm considering that >:3 hehehehe.

@maralexhh : ... i'm sorry T__T LOL. We'll just see how it goes :3