Chapter 1
The Man of Her Dreams
She sat in a small cafe, warm sunlight streaming through the open windows and a soft breeze flickering past her cheekbones. So Young turned her head and discovered six boys- no, men- sitting in front of her, watching her with smiling eyes. They began to speak, but she could not hear what they said, no matter how hard she tried.
Suddenly, she found herself inside a cozy, candle-lit restaurant. Beside her was a man whom she could not seem to identify, yet he had a gentle, strikingly familiar aura. Warmth enclosed So Young as he smiled softly at her and wrapped a comforting arm around her waist. She closed her eyes, blissful in that moment, and sighed contentedly.
Beep beep beep beep beep-
So Young opened her eyes to the obnoxious sound of her alarm buzzing beside her ear. Half awake, she reached for the snooze button, wishing that it would shut up already. She missed the clock by a mile, instead whacking her hand into the bedside table, the momentum casing her to tumble right off the bed and onto the piles of drawings and sketches scattered all over the cold hardwood floor.
"Ouch!" So Young yelled, nursing her throbbing hand. She soon gave up, letting her hand lay on the cool ground, and staring at the cracks in the ceiling as she replayed the strange dream she had just woken from.
Who was that mysterious man? Was he someone that she knew? And why was she so happy to simply be near him? She hadn't encountered such feelings before; she wasn't one to date, since most of her time had been -and was currently- taken up by her art.
She sat up and shook her head . "Ugh, it's way too early to have philosophical thoughts," she muttered softly to herself as she dragged herself off the floor and into the bathroom, not giving a second thought to the figure still fast asleep on her couch.
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"Hey! Morning, So Young!" One of her best friends Min Hee called out as she bounded across the university courtyard and up to the other girl's side.
"Mmm, hi," So Young replied, barely glancing up at her bubbly friend. Min Hee raised her eyebrows in question.
"Bad morning again?" she asked as she gave a flirty wave to a group of overly eager fanboys walking past.
"Yeah, not off to the greatest start," So Young sighed. "Along with weird dreams."
"Aw come on. Don't be such a grump. You know, I think I know exactly what you need- a man. You can't always-"
"Not that again, Min." So Young pouted. "I told you, I don't have time. What can I do? My art calls me." She shrugged and continued on to walk past her friend. Min Hee rolled her eyes, jogging to catch up.
"Is art really that important to you? Wait- okay, don't even answer that," she said, shaking her head dramatically, "I know it's like, practically your life. But you should just cut yourself some slack and go out or something."
"Min Hee-" So Young paused, glancing at her watch, "Oh crap, I'm late for class. Gotta run!" She started quickly towards the doors.
"Aish, fine, go! But just try to do what I said, all right?" Min Hee called after her.
"Yeah, okay! See ya!" She replied, already halfway across the courtyard and praying that class wouldn't start before she arrived.
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So Young sighed as she slid into her seat right as the professor walked in. Though art history was by far the most boring class in her schedule, she still wanted to do well in it. It was never a bad idea to educate yourself as much as you could- at least that was that her dad had always said. Her father was a man of few words, but when he spoke, it was advice worth hearing.
Her mother, on the other hand, had always been a bit on the dreamy, eccentric side, something So Young most probably inherited from her. She had been the one to support So Young's desires of going off to an art college far away.
She still missed her parents everyday, but, she reminded herself sternly, all she had to do succeed in school- and make her parents proud. She nodded her head in determination and whispered a quiet "Fighting" as the professor started his lecture.
Her earlier determination quickly wore off and turned into boredom, though. No matter how hard she tried to concentrate, this professor was totally dull- his lecture was threatening to cause her to nod off. Many of her classmates thought the same thing, judging from the number of heads down on desks and people spinning their pens.
So Young sighed, resting her head on her hand. She absentmindedly doodled on a sheet of paper she'd ripped out, sketching a simple rose onto the corner and scrawling her name in fancy writing. She was just finishing up drawing the phrase "Hello, my name is So Young" in big characters when the professor spoke up.
"Class dismissed. Sorry for the over-time," he stated in his sleepy voice. The classroom erupted into chatter, bored students jumping up to run off to whatever called them next. So Young checked the time on her phone.
"Aish, I better get going if I'm gonna make it in time for work. Don't want to be late again," she stuffed her books into her bag and folded the piece of paper containing her doodles, sliding it into the side pocket. As she rushed past the desk, though, her bag bumped into the corner and spilled its contents.
"Augh, not now!" So Young cried indignantly. She crammed the books that had scattered all over the floor and desk back into her bag and ran out the door, not knowing that she had left behind a certain scrap of paper.
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