We chase towards what we believe.

Just to run a million miles more.

“Umma, please!” I handed her the milk in the midst of putting some sense into this headstrong woman. “Please, just stop. Doctor said you needed the rest. I can support this family. You can depend on me. Three jobs? That’s insane!”

“I want you to focus on your studies, In-Na.” She sipped the milk, her loving gaze blending into mine. “I do all the work. You do all the studying. It’s that simple, right?”

I poured a warm glass of milk for myself, as the night grows cold to my dismay. I looked to see my mother, looking fragile and worn out. My mind sunk to the deepest abyss, that matter refused to slip away. It lingered and it didn't feel right. The whole idea of moving into an all-boys boarding school, pretending to be a boy sounded downright crazy. Mental. I feared the ridicule. The way things will turn complicated because of the absurd deal.

My mother would definitely freak out. She should never ever, find out about the ‘pretending to be a boy’ plan. The part where I have to immerse in this whole identity façade, just to be able to redeem myself. To gain my position in that school where she has worked hard in paying for the ludicrously expensive school fees. In all, I have been nothing but a huge disappointment.

The suffering. The hardship. We both wandered through the good and the bad. Sometimes, we couldn’t help but feel like we were loosely fitting in this disorientated world. As unjust as it sounds, we are merely trying to be a part of it. It’s not as simple as I think it would be.

“Your headmaster called this afternoon.”

My mother tousled my hair as she spoke. I stared right out the window, mustering all the courage to tell the truth.

Umma, I have to pretend to be a boy, be enrolled into Woollim Boarding School where it’s filled with a bunch of rebellious hormonal boys, just so I can retain my spot in Seoul High. Seoul High, the prestigious institution. You’re overworking, Umma. I feel hopeless. You worked hard to pay for my school fees and here I am. Stuck in this mess. For an entire freaking semester. I feel like a failure. 

Those words rung in my head but I held back. I gave up too easily. Those words stayed to the back of my tongue.

“What did he say?” I spoke while having the urge to spill the honest truth.

“He mentioned about posting you into a boarding school for excellent exposure.” Her lips curved into an encouraging smile.

“Excellent exposure?” I thought silently. Okay.

I cleared my throat, lips twitched in nervousness. “Did he elaborate about the enrolment details?”

“No, but I am sure the headmaster makes really good decisions. It’s Seoul High, goodness. We ought to put more trust in the way he handles his students' achievements and character. Umma will be supporting you. If this is for the best, I won’t hold you back,” she stated.

Her voice stayed comforting. She approved of the absurd sounding deal.

“So, you’re okay with his idea?” I raised a quizzical eyebrow. “I will be away for a whole semester, Umma. Three months." I crossed my arms, where I eyed my mother in utter confusion.

Wasn’t she bothered? Does she even know where her daughter will be posted?

“It’s fully sponsored. You shouldn’t let this golden opportunity go to waste. This will be an exceptionally good experience to be added into your curriculum vitae. Imagine the bright future ahead of you. All the learning exposure, getting to know more people and be part of a new studying environment. You must be thrilled.” A warm smile sketched to her lips, where she wrapped an arm around mine in excitement.

“Thrilled...” I responded with a tiny smile. “Never been so ecstatic!”

“I am sure the girls will be nice to you,” she added, catching on the sarcasm in my speech.

“I’m sure the girls will be nice,” I whispered. "Really gentle and kind, feminine too, I'm sure."

She didn’t quite catch on the last part.
 

I know that I have made many reckless decisions in life. But this, definitely was top of the list. I hissed in frustration. My eyes were blindfolded (oh, genius), where a hand tugged the roots of my hair.

“F-“ I almost cursed out loud. “God dammit! Pretty boy! Can you be more careful?” I bellowed in pain.

“Trust the hair master!” L.Joe retorted.

“Hair slayer!” I pointed out where he teasingly, pulled my ponytail.
 

After a horrible ten minutes of hair tugging and pasting of artificial hair, that wave of excitement shook me. He touched the tip of the blindfold, urging me to take a look at his masterpiece.

I held my breath, eyes flickering in attempt to clear my vision. My mind wrapped around the ridiculousness of this situation.

“So, what do you think?” L.Joe smiled in satisfaction, eyes narrowed to my quivering expression.

“I make a really pretty boy,” I frowned. “I’m not supposed to look pretty for a boy, Byunghun. This plan is bogus.”

“I’ll take that as your way of saying thank you,” he scoffed, lightly curtsied in the midst of his emotional outburst. I had to chuckle at the way he had rejection clasped across his face. He whipped out his styling wax and began dabbing on my wig.

Set against the reflection was now a pretty boy, with light brown hair, sharpened eyebrows in a desperate attempt to bring out “hidden manly features” and lips that appeared too feminine for its own good. I look pretty hot for a dude. I shouldn’t elaborate – I am starting to sound like a bragging .

Anyone with eyes could see that it is a girl underneath all the façade.

“You’re right. We are screwed. So screwed...” L.Joe muttered, ruffling his blonde hair in irritation. “God dammit, In-Na.”

“Back up plan?” I sighed, slamming my head against the wooden desk. On the other hand, L.Joe pounded his hand over the styling box that he ha