“Hey…hey! CUZ!!”

“WHAT?!?” God she’s annoying. I am talking to my friend at this fancy gala when my older cousin rudely yells for me.

Dressed in her tight black dress and heels, she answers loudly, “There’s someone who wants to meet you!”

The man, who I just noticed standing next to my cousin walks up to me, and I can’t help wondering…. why are the girls at my cousin’s table giggling?

He walks across the huge dining hall to me and smiles nervously, quickly turning it into a smirk as he confidently speaks up. “Hi. What’s your name?”

“Uhhhhh. Wha… What’s yours?” I stutter like a tongue-tied moron that I most certainly am not.

He simply laughs in response. Why is he laughing? Am I that pathetic?

“Let me get you a drink,” he says and walks away leaving me confused.

Noticing he’s at the bar getting drinks, my cousin runs over to me while almost tripping on her heels.

“Well?”

“Well what? Who is that guy?”

“You don’t know who he is?”

“No. Should I?”

“He’s…oh shoot, he’s coming back!”

“Wait, don’t leave!”

He looks at my cousin’s retreating form and then back at me. “Here’s your drink.”

“Thanks.”

Cue awkward silence in which I’m hoping for a painless death….

“Are you going to tell me your name yet?”

“I’m Krystal.”

“Nice to meet you, Krystal.”

I look over his shoulder to see the table of girls still giggling.

“Why do they keep laughing?”

“I don’t know,” he replies, but the way he smiles makes it seem like he does. “Just ignore them.”

We end up having a decent conversation for a few minutes, topics of which I forget immediately after.

“Can I have your number?” he suddenly asks, leaving me a bit dumbfounded.

“Uhhhh…”

“Sorry! Nevermind.”

“No! Um. I’ll give you my number. It’s just that I’m not used to hearing that.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He pulls out a notepad and pen from his pockets and I write out my number along with a smiley face. I don’t know why but I suddenly think it’s cute how he’s carrying around a notepad. Who even does that anymore?

He’s about to say something else, when someone walks up to him and whispers in his ear.

“Excuse me, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.” He says with a warm smile.

“Okay, um…bye.”

Letting my eyes trail after him as he leaves, I jump when my line of vision is obstructed by my infuriating cousin standing about 2.5 inches from my face.

“Well?”

“Why do you keep ‘well’-ing me? Who is this guy that’s got you so curious? He didn’t give me his name.”

“You don’t know who he is?!”

“Why do you think I’m asking you?”

“He is Kim Jongin! The CEO of this company for this gala we are at! And the young millionaire!”

“What?!”