Yu Jimin was shallow. Maybe it was her wealthy upbringing, and her beautiful and attractive nature that she did not need extra colors to paint her face whenever she went outside (though she still could not step out of their house without wearing those pricey cosmetics). Maybe it was the compliments that had fed her ego at an early age, and her parents who never taught her the importance of seeing things beyond the surface--not even herself, because they never saw her beyond her very surface either.

There was one time when she showed her parents the poem she wrote, it was in the 2nd grade, and she received a star from her teacher because of it. But her parents did not tell her they were proud of her like her teacher did, they did not smile like the other parents did to her classmates. They shook her head, told her she wasted their time. Everytime Jimin looked back, she had a sense her parents only loved her during the times they had to face the public, or when they had to make a good impression on potential business partners. Other than those times, she was never given affection, and the words of encouragement they gave her were more words that provoked her to be the way she was today.

Whenever she fell down, they did not offer their hands to help her get up. They would give her those words instead, words that 5-year old her had a difficult time getting a grasp on but needed to.

“You’re a big girl, Jimin,” her mom would say, “how will people recognize your power when you can’t even stand on your own?”

She was raised to see herself as someone who should only engage with people who were on their level: wealthy or good-looking, or, much better, wealthy and good-looking. Even at school, Jimin only associated herself with those people. Even though the university she went to only accepted their kind--the rich, the alluring--Jimin still found a way to see others to be below her.

Yu Jimin was shallow. She did not deny that, and she did not really care. Why would she? She had everything she ever wanted--everything she thought she ever wanted: beauty, money, fame, power. All that at a very young age. She did not care, until she set eyes on Kim Minjeong.

Minjeong, daughter of some vendors Jimin probably wouldn't cast her glance on if she walked in the streets (which she almost never did, because she had her car). Minjeong who, despite lacking financially, got into the same university because apparently she was blessed with brilliance and determination. She might not be beauty and wealth, but she was beauty and brains, and so somehow she still belonged. Somehow.

Their first encounter did not occur at the university, though. No. It was at some hotel, Jimin forgot where exactly, but it was the hotel where her uncle’s birthday party was held. Kim Minjeong, her name was unknown to Jimin at that time, was there to sing the guest’s requests. Paid, of course. She had her guitar then, and sometimes she would play it while singing, sometimes she was accompanied by other musicians behind her.

Jimin remembered acknowledging that the girl’s voice was almost divine.The most beautiful she had ever heard. And Jimin acknowledging others happened so rarely.

They crossed paths at the hotel’s parking lot. Jimin was about to get in the driver’s seat, but there were soft thuds coming closer and closer. Footsteps. Yu Jimin tilted her head a little, trying to see who it was. She almost laughed at the first thought that crossed her mind when she saw her. Jimin knew the vocalist was smaller than her, but now, seeing her a lot closer, she still could not believe she was this short. She had beautiful wavy blond hair, a ribbon clipped at the right side of her head. Her pale pink dress reached until her knees, and her feet were each enclosed in a pair of flats. It was obvious the girl did not have the best sense of fashion, or she might not be able to afford it. Minjeong then was carrying her guitar case in one hand, and carrying a backpack on the opposite shoulder. Every step she made felt to Jimin more like a drag of foot. The short girl seemed really exhausted.

“Hey,” Jimin called, the other one only responded with a look. “How farther is your car’s spot?” She asked. At the back of her mind, she was questioning herself why she was trying to talk to her. That time, Jimin believed it was because she missed messing up with strangers. And there’s no one easier to annoy than an exhausted person.

Now, though, Jimin knew it was not just that. From the very beginning, she had always been drawn to her.

“I don’t have a car.”

The other girl kept walking, though still with her shoulders slacked.

Jimin thought of responses that would tick her off even more. Like maybe, “why did I even ask? Of course you don’t have a car to begin with,” with her infamous insulting tone. But when she opened , the words that rolled off her tongue were completely different, and even Jimin herself was startled by them:

“I can give you a ride home.”

Clearing , Jimin stood upright, fixing her already beautiful posture, feeling conscious suddenly.

“No, thank you. I can take the bus.”

The girl gave Jimin a faint smile, and the latter did not trust herself enough to respond again. She stood still where she was, watching the vocalist take the exit, slowly growing smaller and smaller in her sight.

There was something Jimin could not quite put her finger on. A feeling. And feelings were never Jimin’s forte. For a few seconds, maybe 5 or 10, she stayed there trying to figure out what it was, and when she gave up, she took a deep breath, realizing also that she had been holding it ever since she lost sight of her.

That was the most intense Jimin had ever felt and, at the same time, secured. As if locking gazes with Minjeong that night pushed her back through the centuries only to take her home. The feeling that nothing could have prepared Jimin for, the feeling Jimin would love to be taken aback by over and over again.

But Jimin never saw her again, and so she never felt it again. Each day that passed since that night felt a lot more dull. Not even one of Giselle's parties could save her from it, as though that short encounter had set the bar so high no one could reach it but that girl in the pale pink dress.

Ironic, because that girl was also the shortest person she'd ever seen.

How adorable.

**

Monday, and Jimin expected nothing to begin with. It had been three weeks since she was back to living in the dorm with her friend Giselle, and today marked her second week in her second year of studying medicine. A sigh of discontent escaped her as she put on her heels, getting ready to leave; another day she’d spend just waiting for it to end, just so she could do the same waiting again tomorrow.

Her first thought in the morning was the blonde-haired girl who stole her breath, just like all the mornings she had had after that night. She did not realize it was possible to be so drawn to someone you thought about them every second of every day, to the point that Jimin felt as though there was no end to this. She thought it only happened in dramas and movies, not to mention in her case, she only had a few seconds of interaction with the person on her mind. And apart from that, she just thought she was incapable of wanting something so bad, because everything she desired she was used to getting her hands on easily.

But that moment with the singer was something even their money could not afford. It was so meaningful and so priceless, and so Jimin had grown so frustrated and even obsessed over it.

That gaze, for the very first time in her entire life, took her home, and soon as it was over, she realized how lost she had been all this time. It’s as if life before that encounter was not real. The longing was unbearable and really, she just wanted to return home again.

Jimin would have looked for her. She could just ask her uncle, "who was the girl that sang at your party?", but there's this part of her that told her it wasn't supposed to be forced. An inner knowing that when the time came, it would happen, and it would feel a lot more magical than it would have if she tried so hard to take control of it.

Maybe it was the first lesson the girl had to teach her, that giving up control was not so bad. She was just hoping, really praying to the Gods for the first time, that it wasn't the last lesson she'd get from her.

Monday, and Jimin had expected nothing to begin with, but halfway through the day, everything shifted. It was her lunch break when she stepped into the cafeteria. She who had been loitering at the back of Jimin’s mind no matter how hard she pushes the thoughts away. She who still had her hair blonde, though this time it was neatly tied up to a ponytail. She who looked beautiful despite being dressed only in a plain white shirt and jeans.

Jimin took a deep breath, her world had once again been shaken. She wondered why, when all this time this was what she wanted. Shouldn’t she have prepared herself for this? Spending everyday thinking about seeing her again, the possible things she would do and say once she did, and now that she really was within sight, Jimin found herself frozen where she sat. Just like how she was when the girl first smiled at her.

Jimin blinked twice rapidly, shaking her head, her fingers folding and forming a fist. Another deep breath. Whatever miracle it was that had put the two of them in the same place at the same time, Jimin had no idea. All she knew was that the forces had worked collectively to bring them to this moment, and now it was time for her to do her part.

Deciding not to deliberate much on it, Jimin just got on her feet, startling everyone who shared the table with her--Giselle, Yeji, Lia, Renjun and Hyunjin. The chattering from these friends of hers died down, and now they were all looking up at her. Some confused, some curious. What happened after that, Jimin did not remember in detail, but her consciousness only caressed her once again when she was already in front of her. This was the moment she truly felt the trembling of her cold, sweating hands. Her breath was caught in . Her thoughts were, needless to say, tangled up. And all this time she was looking at the girl before her, and yet it didn’t feel real.

Her mind refused to accept that it was real, because what if it wasn’t?

Jimin’s hand twitched, as if telling her she should move it. And she did move it, towards her, and her fingers soon were clasped around her wrist.

It was real. She was really here.

“Mm… hello?” The girl’s voice brought Jimin back from whatever realm she was in earlier. Politely, she tugged her wrist out of Jimin’s grasp, though her doe eyes were still lookin