With your long hair tied up in a braided top bun and wispy curls framing your face, you twirled around in your velvet royal blue dress.

Take two.  This time you knew to not arrive early, in fact, you casually strolled into the restaurant fashionably thirty minutes late.  The fine-looking heir was already seated at a table, impatiently tapping his fingers against the glass surface.  You internally cackled until your stomach hurt. 

Suits him right!  How does that feel, bad boy??

Nonchalantly, you swung your purse over your shoulder and trudged in.  You took a seat across from the young man.  He looked at you from head to toe and rolled his eyes.  You gaped at his despicable manners.  Polite and well-mannered, my . 

Crossing your arms, you sat up straight and spoke, “I know you don’t like me.  And to be 1000% honest, I really, really don’t like you either.  But let’s just it up and stall this out until your father’s company is stable again.”

He raised his eyebrow at you.

You opened your mouth to talk but a waitress came over to take your order…well, Kim Jongin’s order because she was basically ignoring you and giving all her attention to the attractive man before you.  You snarled as they flirted.  I’m going to throw up.

“He has herpes,” you said, passively.

Kim Jongin looked at you stunned.  The waitress’s face turned ice cold as she slowly backed away.  As soon as she was gone, you burst out laughing. 

Jongin took a sip of his tea and murmured under his breath, “Childish.”

You frowned. 

Sitting back against his chair, he pointed his finger at your attire and asked, “Were you offended by my remarks last week?  Is that why you stuffed your bra?”

Oh.

My.

God.

“E-Excuse me?!  These are natural!” you almost shouted, pointing at your sweetheart neckline.

He chuckled.

“For your information, I have a D-cup,” you half-whispered. 

“Yeah…right…” he replied sarcastically.  He turned around, with a hand covering the lower half of his face to hide his amusement and slight blush.

You had to claw at the tablecloth to stop yourself from ripping at his face.  Why must all good-looking guys be s?  WHY?  Dammit.

“KIM JONGIN—” you started but were cut off by the ringing of his phone.

A picture of a girl appeared on his phone screen.  You narrowed your eyes, slowly sunk back into your chair, and may or may not have casually eavesdropped on the conversation.  However, you only managed to hear something about a café and something about finally seeing each other.

The young heir stood up as soon as he hung up the call.  You raised your eyebrow at him.

As he buttoned and smoothed out his shirt, he spoke without even looking at you, “I have to go.  See you next time.”

You didn’t even have time to protest before he sprinted to the exit.  Stunned and quite pissed off, you leaned back against your chair and folded your arms over your chest.  First, he was late.  Now, he completely ditches you mid-dinner. 

Clenching your fist, you got up and left as well.  But you had nowhere to go since you couldn’t go back home yet.  Your mother would question why the date had ended so prematurely.  So you ended up aimlessly wandering around town on the chilly November evening.  The streetlights lit the sidewalks, creating long shadows along the walls of shops. 

Were you really that unattractive?  Unknowingly, you tilted your head down to scrutinize your career line.  You frowned, kicking ch