The lift arrvied and I stepped into it, then pressed the button for the eight floor. I closed my eyes as I leaned against the lift walls.

  The pain in my and lower back was still there. I mentally cursed the delivery boy. Horrible, rude fellow.

  "Eight floor" the automatic voice announced, and I exited the lift. I looked at my paper, then at the signs.

  "To the left," I thought.

  Seconds later, I was outside his house. Choi Minho's house.

  This was it.

  Tentatively, I reached out and rang the doorbell. The muscial sound could be heard from the outside, but nobody answered the door. I rang the doorbell again. This time, I heard footsteps running towards the door.

  "Dude, I know I invited you over, but can't you-" Choi Minho stopped short as he saw me. He blushed a deep furious red. As he quickly banged the door shut, I heard receeding footsteps from the door.

  As soon as he shut the door, I was able to breathe normally again. Before that, I had stopped breathing. Literally stopped breathing.

  HE HAD BEEN TOPLESS WITH ONLY A TOWEL COVERING HIS BOTTOM HALF.

  And he was one mega-hottie.

  At the thought of his well churned out abs, I started breathing twice as fast, my mind mentally working out fantasy illusions.

  He was any girl's dream come true, and I was going to be stepping into the home of this guy!

  Before I had any time to further compose myself, the door was thrown open again.

  This time, he was dressed properly, but just as good looking as ever. His big eyes, his perfect features, his lengthy frame and his muscles which were obvious even now....

  I have died and gone to heaven.

  But almost immediately after the razzle dazzle, I felt disappointed. His hair was jet-black, not brown like my friend's had been.

  "Still, he could have dyed it," I reasoned with myself

  "Uh hi, sorry for the earlier um, fiasco. I thought you were my friend," he said sheepishly, running a hand through his head.

  I could only stare at him in wonder. His voice was rich and sultry and y. Could this guy get any more perfect?

  "Um, hello?" he said, waving a hand in front of me.

  "Huh? Oh er, hi! Hihihi!"I said flustered, then immediately wanted to slap myself.

  I made up for my nervousness by offering a bright, big, happy smile.

  It seemed to have worked for he offered me to come in. Holding my breath, I entered his house.

  It was amazing.

  A wide leather sofa stood before a circular coffee table. The 48-inch tv was mounted onto the wall, and the cheery colour which splashed his wall gave his house the homey feeling. White, swirling curtains led to a balcony, which he had turned into a mini garden.

  I was led to sit on the sofa, and he brought me a glass of ice cold water.

  "Have a drink," he said, flashing his pearly whites at me.

  Ohmygosh. This guy would be the cause of my death.

  Fighting to keep control of my emotions, I accepted the drink and sipped it.

  "So, how may I help you?" he asked uncertainly.

  i cleared my throat.

  "Well, I know you might find this strange, but," I started, and then for what seemed like the hundredth time, I relayed the reason I had came for him to hear.

  When I had finished though, I know he wasn't quite sure if he was the one.

  "I'm not sure... Certain facts do make it seem like me, yet I can hardly remember others," he said, proving me right.

  I nodded.

  "Well, here's the million dollar question," I said, "Does a necklace guarded by a scarecrow mean anything to you?" I asked breathlessly, awaiting the moment where his eyes would surely light up and he would nod in recognition and I would myself into those fine abs of his.

  Any moment now ...