She approached you one day for your signature, with a basket full of those wonderfully sinful Japanese confectionery products you never failed to bring up gleefully during magazine interviews.

It was a cold December afternoon in the bustling streets of Harajuku when she came up to you, shivering uncontrollably, both from the nerves and the weather.

You gave her a warm smile, hooked your clutch under your arm and took the magazine and black marker from her.

Upon inspection of the cover of the magazine, you were greeted by your own face smiling back at you, dressed in a ridiculously loud polka dotted blazer, a white shirt with metallic collar tips and your legs were adorned by a pair of tartan skinny pants. You almost laughed when you realised that you looked like a Christmas tree because of the over the top ‘headgear’ on your head, made up of flowers, tiny stuffed toys, trinkets and ribbons and all…

You chuckled as you pulled the cap off the marker and signed at the bottom of the magazine.

‘Name please?’ So you could address the signature and short message to your fangirl.

‘Chohee,’ her teeth chattered.

You confirmed the characters of the name with her before writing them in marker and she nodded vehemently.

‘You know how to write Korean?’ She beamed.

You were born in Korea but your parents, who loved travelling with all their hearts placed you in the care of your Grandmother, who had moved to Tokyo after she retired because of her obsession in the Japanese culture and way of life. Hence, you were basically raised like Japanese instead of a Korean since you were 4 years old.

You never blamed your parents though because like your Grandmother, you enjoyed living in Tokyo very much.

You picked up Korean from your Grandmother, who despite being kind of ‘pro-Japanese’, wanted you to at least know how to speak and write your native language.

‘Yes, I do,’ you handed the magazine and marker back to her.

She presented you with the beautifully wrapped basket of snacks, which you thanked and gushed very hard at her sincerity.

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‘Natsumi-chan! You’re up next!’ The stylist beckoned you with her left hand, signaling that it was your turn to do the photoshoot.

Dressed in a lilac coloured hoodie and multi coloured tutu skirt, you pranced onto the set and grinned toothily as the camera began flashing.

You had to consume 3 whole tube of Meiji gummies to act this hyper because this was the image Japanese Street Style magazines wanted to portray to their target audience: Smiley and cheerful girls in crazily colourful yet stylish outfits.

You would never be caught dead wearing such flamboyant styles but you had a certain image to upkeep, you were always dressed impeccably in street fashion, but of a much lower ‘drama’ level.

Your modeling name was Hoshi, which meant a star in Japanese. So when you were working, you were known exclusively as Natsumi. Off camera, you were the 17-year-old high school student: Lee Myungwol.

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You had your first crush when you were 15.

You kept it to yourself though, because he already had a girlfriend of 2 years.

He was a year ahead of you and he shined academically.

Your grades were average, not because you weren’t the academic type but because of your job as a street fashion model took all of your time after school hours.

You loved your job though, getting to wear all sorts of ridiculous outfits and getting freebies after each shoot on top of the high pay per project, so why quit?

You would be lying if you didn’t enjoy the attention. It was nice having fans pop up here and there to compliment how cute or pretty you were in the magazines. You would feel on top of the world.

But there was no other fan like Chohee.

She was always there every Saturday at the magazine studio you always had shoots in, bringing those sweet treats for you and cheering you on.

She was genuine and you soon found solace in her company.

She loved street fashion like you and so from this common interest, you guys became best of friends, going shopping together and enjoying hanging out at cafés popular with the young adult crowd.

You told her about your crush of 3 years and even snuck her into your high school so she could get a glimpse of the love of your life. She then urged you to confess before he graduated or regret for the rest of your life.

You still couldn’t muster enough courage and before you knew it, he had already left school for university.

Life was a because when you next saw him, he had his arm wrapped around the waist of Chohee, busy shopping on the streets of Harajuku with your so-called ‘best friend’.

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You lost all interest in your once haven: Harajuku, which was the epicenter of Japanese street culture and fashion.

You ripped your expensive clothes to shreds, took down the modeling photos on your walls because they now seemed to be nothing more than a joke of the past and got rid the stash of gifts from fans.

You deleted Chohee’s number after cursing the word, ‘!’ and threw your phone harshly onto the floor as you slid down the wall, crying your heart out.

You were betrayed by the one person you trusted with all your heart. You told her every secret, your past and about your family.

She was supposed to be your pillar of strength, your number one loyal fan.

And now, she was nothing but a figment of your past, your eternal enemy.

You had never done her any wrong.

You started to blame yourself instead.

Why were you so chicken hearted? If you had confessed to him, maybe you would have had a chance. Even if he had rejected you and gone with Chohee, you would have accepted it much easily.

But Chohee was free to love right?

But she never told you about her crushing on the love of your life.

And best friends didn’t keep secrets from each other.

You sure didn’t, but she did.

That was it.

Your friendship with her was done for good.

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You quit modeling because it reminded you of Chohee.

Hell, every single thing reminded you of that betrayer because you guys did almost everything together.

Your ex-manager called you up to tell you that Chohee was joining your same model company to become a model.

You scolded your ex-manager, telling her that you wanted nothing to do with both her and Chohee anymore. With that, you also deleted your ex-manager’s number from your contacts.

You graduated 18 months later after that horrible incident.

Unable to stay in Japan any longer without feeling broken and torn on the inside, you packed your bags, bade your Grandmother goodbye and took a taxi to the airport.

Your Grandmother was on the phone with you the entire taxi journey to the airport, asking you for the reason for your sudden departure.

You told her you needed to get away from this city of bad memories. You thanked her for her wonderful caretaking over the years and assured her that once you were healed enough, you would return to her side.

Not wanting any of those pesky fans to recognize you, you wrapped a scarf around your neck that covered half your face and put on a pair of oversized shades.

‘Get me a ticket to the fastest flight out of this sickening place,’ you stated urgently.

The lady behind the desk jumped in her seat at your aggressive tone and began typing away on the keyboard.

‘Korean Air has a flight to Seoul and the boarding gates will open in half an hour.’

Seoul?

Too close a destination, but you were desperate to get away from it all.

‘Fine,’ you handed her your credit card.

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You never thought you would ever use the house key your parents left you when they put you in the care of your Grandmother in Japan.

But now, you found yourself standing in front of what was your first home, not that you remembered because you were still a baby back then when you lived inside of it.

The terrace was well maintained because you found out that your parents had a housekeeper/gardener who came in every Saturday to clean up and care for the gardens.

You chuckled when you found a nursery, which meant that it was your bedroom when you were small.

You got rid of the childish wallpapers and baby equipment.

Deciding to do a little interior decorating on your own, you took a taxi into the city to shop for furniture.

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You called your parents to inform them that you were back in Seoul. Not wanting to disturb them while they were on their permanent vacation, you assured them that it was just a short holiday in Seoul.

Your father said that he would transfer a rather generous sum of money for the furniture you were going to get for your bedroom. You declined but he wouldn’t hear any of it. You sighed and gave in.

You had made more than enough during your modeling days, 3 years worth of fat paycheques to be exact. You were talent scouted while shopping on the streets of Shibuya at the age of 14.

‘Excuse me! I would like to get this in black please,’ you told the sales assistant while pointing to the desk in the showroom.

‘Of course, please hold on while I get the necessary paperwork done.’

You nodded at whipped out your iphone to play a new game you had downloaded last night.

‘Chohee?’ a deep voice came from beside you.

Anger boiled inside you and you looked at the man who mistook you for your most hated person in your life.

‘Excuse me?’ You seethed though clenched teeth, ‘Was that meant as an insult!? I sure donot look like that two faced liar!’

It was a lanky and tanned man who looked to be in his mid twenties.

‘But you look just like her…’ he cupped your chin with his long slender fingers to lift your face up towards his intense gaze.

‘I’m not that monster!’ You slapped his hand away.

‘Wait, calm down,’ the handsome stranger reached into his blazer’s pocket pulled out his phone.

He unlocked the phone and placed it in front of your face.

‘It’s you, isn’t it? I can’t be wrong!’ The guy reasoned.

‘Oh my…’ you grabbed the phone violently and started hard at the screen.

It was a picture of you and the owner of the phone smiling happily on the wallpaper.

‘How can t-that b-be?’ You stuttered.

‘My dear Chohee, where have you been?’ The guy stepped forward to envelop you in his embrace.

‘Get the hell off me!’ You struggled by his muscular arms only tightened around your body.

Could it be that he was referring to another Chohee?

But how come she looked exactly like you?

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‘Look here,’ you flashed your identification card at the stranger.

He frowned at it.

‘I came from Tokyo yesterday afternoon,’ you explained, ‘It’s impossible for me to have known you because I’ve spent all my life there since I was 4.’

‘Do you have a twin?’ the guy asked, returning the card to you.

‘No.’

‘I’m so sorry, erm… Miss Lee.’

‘It’s okay. I mean, I look exactly like that girl on your phone’s wallpaper,’ you replied, taking a sip of the milk tea before you.

‘I’m Changmin, Shim Changmin,’ the guy gave you an awkward smile, offering you his hand.

You shook his hand, ‘I better get going now, I need to refurnish my room or I won’t be sleeping on any bed tonight.’

‘Oh, err… do you need any help?’ Changmin offered.

‘No thanks,’ you bowed and left.

You weren’t ready to make any new friends anytime soon…

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