I sat in the cocoon chair hanging from the ceiling in my bedroom, reading the last book we had to read for the year in Honors Language. But my mind wasn't able to focus. All I could think about was that article. In the last twenty-four hours, I'd checked the site approximately five hundred times. There were still minimal comments on it (things like: "She should share her money with the rest of us!" Or "This girl needs to learn how to really spend money!") and it hadn't spread to any other social media as far as I knew.

My door creaked open. "Suzy, you in here?"

It was Sangmoon.

I pushed on the floor to spin the chair until I was facing him.

"Ah, you're in metamorphosis." Sangmoon stepped into my room and shut the door behind him.

"Hey."

"I just wanted to let you know I'm moving the last of the boxes over to my place today."

I sat forward. "What? You're officially done here?"

He smiled. "Yes."

"Oh."

"Don't be too happy for me."

"No, I am. I just wasn't expecting it to be so soon."

He slapped at my legs, sending the chair swinging back and forth. "It's today, kid."

I rolled my eyes. "You're only two years older than me."

"You'll always be the baby sister to me."

I kicked at him but missed as he jumped away from my feet. "I still need to go see your new place."

"You should wait a few weeks. I'm in the middle of a renovation."

"A renovation?"

His eyes lit up. "It's amazing. I hired a guy to bust out a wall and redo the outdated kitchen. I'm making it into more of loft feel."

"Wait, I'm confused. Did you buy it?"

"Of course. Why would I throw away money in rent every month. It's an investment."

The words from the article about half-a-million-dollar condos came into my mind. That had been referring to my brother, not me. "Was it a lot?"

"You're worried about me. Don't worry about me. I'm going to get a part-time job and finish school and it will be great."

"So no more casinos?"

He gave me a funny look.

"I wasn't trying to snoop but I saw a receipt when I looked for paper in your drawer the other day." 

He smiled. "My sister, the one who won big in gambling is now judging me for trying my hand at it?"

"I don't gamble, Sangmoon."

"I don't gamble; I just won the lottery," he said in a high pitched voice.

I sighed. Was he right? Wasn't the lottery basically gambling?

He patted me on the head. "It was just once. I wanted to have a little fun. I lost a hundred bucks, so I won't be doing that again anytime soon."

"Good," 

"Good," he repeated. "Besides, aren't you the one funding everyone's outings and dorm makeovers?"

My brows went down. "How did you know about that?"

"You told us at dinner one night a few weeks ago."

"You didn't . . ." I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and spit it out. "You didn't talk to a reporter about me, did you?"

"A reporter? No. Why?"

My phone started buzzing on the chair next to me and I looked just in time to see Jimin's name on the screen.

"Time to get out," I said to my brother, but not before he noticed the name as well.

"Who's Jimin?"

I stood and pushed him by the chest toward the door.

"How come I haven't met Jimin?"

"Out. Seriously."

"Fine. Have fun talking to your boyfriend."

My phone steppe buzzing. "Stop being such a brother."

He ruffled my hair. "Impossible."

When he shut the door behind him I rushed back over to my phone and pushed the button to call Jimin back.

He answered in a voice that sounded like he was surprise I was calling. "Hello?"

"Hey."

"Hi, what's up?" he said.

"What's up? You're the one who called me."

He laughed. "That's right, I was."

"That was one second ago."

"It was." His laughter trailed off. "I just wanted to say hi."

I bit my bottom lip, restricting the smile that was trying to take over my face. He'd hear that smile if I let it get too big. "That's a good excuse to call."

"Yeah, I normally have a bad excuses."

"Jimin, you never need an excuse to call me." I had meant to say it in a nice, friendly voice but it came out too serious, too dramatic.

I thought he'd mock me for it, but instead he answered back just as serious, "Thank you."

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Just pondering life's big questions."

"And were you provided with life's big answers?"

"No, that's why I called out. You always have all the answers, right?"

I fell back on my bed and positioned my feet on my headboard. "Less and less these days it seems."

"You still worried about your brother?"

"No, actually. That seemed to work itself out on its own."

"I'm sure you had nothing to do with it."

"Actually, I just talked to him, like you said. So it was all you."

"I'll take credit for solving your problems since I can't seem to solve my own."

"Let's hear them. Maybe I can return the favor."

There was a long pause on the line and for a moment I thought the call had been dropped. But then his breath sounded. A breath of frustration or sadness or anger, I couldn't tell.

"I hate fakers," he said.

My heart jumped up its pumping speed. He knew about me and now he was going to tell me that he was angry and we couldn't be friends anymore because I'd lied to him.

"I'm sorry," I started. I needed to explain to him why I hadn't told him. How was I trying to hang on to a vestige of my old life in him. How he helped me feel normal and happy and grounded. How he was the person I felt most myself around because we never talked about my money or how I was different or how I would be different or should be different. Maybe if I told him all that, he'd understand why I'd done it.

Before I could go on, he spoke. "And here I've been lying to you."

"What?" I asked, now confused.

"I want to go to college," he said.

"You made up your mind? Was it all the focusing I had you do?"

"No, my mind was always made up. I always wanted to. But I can't go."

"Why not?" 

"I can't afford it."

"That ." A familiar pang of anxiety hit me. I hadn't felt this specific anxiety for a while, but I knew it well: money worries.

"You know what even more? That I had the money. I mean, my parents had it, saved it for me since I was little. But my dad lost his job last year and . . ."

"They needed it."

"They wouldn't have needed it if they weren't so determined to maintain our lifestyle. But yes, they're using it.  They're using it so their friends still think they're rich and have their lives put together. My dad keeps saying that it'll be fine, he just needs more time to find something and then he'll put the money back back. But by that time, it'll be too late."

"I'm so sorry. I totally understand how you feel." That was my life two months ago. Sort of. At least the needing money part. "What about scholarship? Grants?"

"I'm hoping for some to come through. I've applied for about five hundred."

"That's good."

"I'm not you, Suzy. My grades aren't beyond perfect."

"But a person is more than their grades. You've done so much more. Something will come through."

"I hope so."

"Can I tell you a truth, too?" I asked.

"Of course."

I closed my eyes. I needed to tell him. He didn't need another faker in his life. And maybe he'd let me help him. Maybe he'd let me loan him some money. "I really do want to go Seoul." That's what came out instead of what I intended to say. "I've worked hard and it's the kind of college that's every school-loving nerd's dream, right? But I'm scared." It may not have been what I intended to tell him but I realized it was a truth as well. One I had never wanted to acknowledge or admit out loud. The girl who was prepared for everything wasn't quite prepared to leave what she knew. It was hard to study for the unknown.

"Why are you scared?" he asked.

"So many reasons. What if everyone is smarter than me there? Do you know how many smart people go to Seoul? What if I get homesick? What if I hate college? What if I hate going up north?"

"You'll do great anywhere, Suzy. You are perfect college material. And Seoul isn't that far."

"It is four hours away by car. More if there's traffic."

"But a lot shorter by plane, right?"

"Yes."

"It might be scary at first, but once you're there and establish a routine, you'll be fine. You'll be great. And Suzy, you are one of those smart people. You'll fit right in."

"Thanks, Jimin. It's nice to hear that someone believes in me." I still wasn't ready to commit to Seoul. But just knowing Jimin thought I could helped a lot.

"I'm pretty sure anyone that knows you believes in you. You just have to believe in yourself."

A happy feeling took over my chest. It was so nice to have him to talk to. Someone I trusted. Someone who I cared about. I wanted Jimin to be able to do what he wanted to do. He deserved it. If a grant or scholarship didn't come through for him, that's when I'd tell him about the lottery. That's when I'd tell him that I could help him . . . if he'd accept my help.

☘ 𝔏𝔬𝔱𝔱𝔬 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢 ☘

I woke up with my phone next to me, and my eyelashes crusty with mascara that I hadn't washed off the night before. My memory slowly came back to me. I must have fallen asleep talking to Jimin. We'd transitioned into talking about goals and the future, dreams we had, and then literal dreams we'd had. Jimin had a lot of dreams about being chased. I'd had several about falling, where I'd jerked awake.

We had both fake-analyzed each other's dreams.

"You are nervous that the expectations of others are going to catch you and force you to live a life you don't want to live," I'd said.

"You wish you were a bird, but aren't," he'd said.

I had laughed. "You don't believe that dreams are trying to tell us something?"

"I think you can interpret dreams however you want. That there is no set meaning, only what you make of them."

"I do wish I were a bird."

"Don't we all."

"It's late," I had said, pulling the pull away from my ear to check the time. "And it's a school night."

"Are you going to melt?"

"I might."

But we didn't hang up, and eyes became heavy as he talked about a movie he'd watched the night before.

"You still there?" I remember him asking at one point.

"I'll be here as long as you want," I said in my half-asleep state.

Now I inwardly groaned. Had I really said that? How had he responded? I couldn't remember now. Had he laughed that warm chuckle of his? The one he did when he was amused? Or had he whispered something back? Words I couldn't conjure up now.

I rolled out of bed and headed for the shower. Hopefully I hadn't ruined anything. Jimin really was my grounding force right now and I didn't want things to get awkward because my crush was showing.