The trip is nearly over. We started out in England, making our way around the United Kingdom for the first nine days, since the first day was spent on a plane. From there we sailed into the European continent and into Spain for five days. Everything was educational, of course. I told one of the chaperones that “All work an no play makes Mona a dull girl”. The response I got was “Well, all play and no work gets us a lawsuit”. I guess I lost that debate.

 

Our final leg of the trip is in France. Four days in France, because again, our last day is spent on the confines of an airliner. Great, because I don't know a of French, don't know much about the culture, and by this point, I'm uninterested.

 

The American scholar group gets out of their shared tour bus, but I lag behind. I fumble through my purse to find my cell phone. Gotta let the folks know I've arrived safely at my last destination of this trip.

 

“Mona, come on, the bus driver's going to leave with or without you!”

 

I scowl in the direction of the voice, knowing well that my chaperone can't see me, but manage to fake an innocent smile.

 

“I'm coming!” Jerk.

 

I step off of the bus, and hold my hand up. “Can you guys wait a minute, I need to call back home to let my parents know-”

 

“Fine, but we'll be going into the hotel to check in,” a different chaperone replies. And with that, I'm left alone in the streets of France.

 

I pay my solitude no mind. I hold down the speed dial for my mom's number. In a way, I kind of miss my family.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hi, Mom.”

 

“Mona, oh, how are you, Honey? We miss you so much!” I figured.

 

“Miss you, too. I'm fine. Just got to France, we're checking in to the hotel now.”

 

“Oh, lovely,” she scoffs. I've never fully understood my parents' resentment of the French, but I play along. “Well, I hope you have a nice time while you're there!”

 

Good, she's cutting the conversation short. I can't afford these long distance calls for another five days. “I'm sure I will-” My breath is cut short as someone walks clear into me, knocking my phone from my hand and down the streets of Paris.

 

“H-hey!!” I stammer, as an older Parisian woman shakes her head in contempt and mutters something in French. She continues walking away, as I try to catch up and demand an apology. I tap the woman on her shoulder, making a phone out of my one hand.

 

“You knocked my phone out of my hand,” I signal to the woman. “Do you know where it we-”

 

“Parlez-vous francais?” she asks.

 

“Huh?” I reply. I don't know much French, but I know what she's asking. I can't answer. “Uh, no, I can't, I-”

 

She goes on a tangent in her native tongue. Caught by surprise, I do nothing but stand there and take the verbal abuse in another language. After a few minutes, the woman calms down and simply walks away, talking under her breath. Now I see why my parents hate the French so much.

 

My attention goes back to the topic of my lost phone. “MOM!” I shout as loud as I can manage. “HOLD ON!” If she hasn't already hung up and called the French Embassy to find her “kidnapped” daughter.

 

“Uhm, excuse me?”

 

I jump at the sudden touch on my shoulder. I'm almost too frightened to turn around and face this sudden aggressor who speaks English with a thick accent. It's not French but...it's not European, either. An Asian accent?

 

“Yeah?” I squeak, still searching the street. I continue my stride until he taps me again.

 

This time I turn around slightly to see a phone being into my hand. I don't bother looking into his face, with the fear that this could be my last phone call ever.

 

“I'm sorry,” he struggles.

 

I'm frantically dialing my mom's cell phone number. “S-Sorry? What for?” I stammer, hoping she picks up soon. I don't think a hundred dollars will get me out of this trouble. My hand is shaking as my mom answers.

 

“Mona? What's going on, are you alright?”

 

“Uhm, yeah, Mom, I'm fine, but my phone-”

 

“I'm sorry...about your phone,” the stranger interjects. I turn a little more to finally look at this man. He's quite tall, but he's got a very firm, toned body. My eyes slowly creep up his chest, boy is it toned and beautiful, and finally reach his face. Oh. My. God.

 

“Huh? Mona, who was that? What happened to your phone?”

 

I turn away once again. “Wh-what, Mom? Oh-oh, my phone? Uhm, some French woman bumped into me and it went flying, and I can't find it.”

 

“Are you alright? You're stuttering a lot. Did someone else-”

 

“Mom, this isn't like Taken. I'm fine. One of the...” I pause and look at him again. “Uh, one of the chaperones let me use his phone. Just thought I would let you know I'm not being held for ransom or anything. But gotta go, they don't have long distance calling. Love you, bye.”

 

“A-all right, Honey, love you, to-” I don't bother to wait for her goodbye, I hand up too quickly and nervously for that.

 

Standing in front of me is Jung Yunho. All six feet of him, all the dancing, singing, rapping, acting, and breathing parts of him. The leader of TVXQ. My idol. Years I've dreamed of getting the chance to meet him on stage, and here he is, walking the same streets of France that I'll be walking...

 

...for four days.

 

“O-O-Oppa!” I squeak. This is going well...yeah, right. I'm shaking in my boots, and I'm not even wearing boots.

 

He smiles in return. I can see he's trying to form a sentence in English that I'll understand. Oh, I hope I can understand.

 

“Yes?”

 

Alright, well, that's a start.

 

“Uhm, your...English is very good,” I stutter, bowing slightly. My voice is obnoxiously going up several octaves as I choke out a compliment.

 

“Oh, thank you!” he says excitedly. He bows in response to my reddening face. That accent is adorable, but I'm trying my best to keep cool.

 

“Oh!” I cry, extending my arm out quickly. I still have his phone. “Uhm, uh...oh, what's that word...” I panic, searching the reserves of my brain to find “Thank you” in Korean. “Oh! Kamsahamnida!” I practically shout, ing the phone back into his hand. I bow again, this time much deeper.

 

I stay bent over to avoid meeting his glance. And to try and cool my face off. Heat rises after all.

 

I only start to stand straight after I hear a chuckle. That is him, right? Oh, it's such a cute little laugh, it must be him. And when I stand up I can see that it is. I blush some more.

 

“Do you speak Korean?” Yunho asks. God, it must be difficult for him to translate his language into English. Just for me!

 

I smile meekly, but shake my head. “No. I'm trying, though.” I hope he understood that. I frown a little at my own self-disappointment.

 

“Mona, what are you doing?”

 

I'm snapped back into reality at the sound of my chaperone's booming voice, and she isn't even speaking that loudly. She slowly walks up behind me, and I can feel her questioning gaze pierce through my back.

 

I turn around before she can walk any closer. “I...I'll be there in a minute,” I whisper. I put up my pointer finger, pleading with her to wait just one more moment. I hope I can salvage my failure attempt to communicate with Yunho.

 

“Mona?” he implores, cocking his head to one side. I can see he's trying to piece together my situation. His eyes meet mine, and I can feel sweat dripping from my temple. He's too gorgeous for words.

 

“Yes,” I reply, dramatically tapping my hand to my chest. “My name is Mona.” I pause. “Mona Elrich.” I extend my arm and point to him. “You are Jung Yunho. Oppa.”

 

“Yes!” he chants enthusiastically, pointing to himself. “My name is Yunho. U-Know Yunho!” With each word he pauses briefly as if to assure himself that he's correctly forming a sentence. His attempts are flawless. “And you are Mona...Eric?”

 

My laughter bellows throughout the street. “Yes, Mona Elrich,” I correct him, sympathizing with his adorable Korean accent.

 

Behind me, the chaperone clears . “Mona, I think we should be going.”

 

“Alright,” I huff. I flash a big grin at Yunho, knowing that it'll be the last one I give him, and I point behind me towards the hotel.

 

“I have to get going,” I inform Yunho. I slowly back away from him, without so much as a hug or an autograph...or even a picture! My chaperone impatiently taps her foot.

 

“Oh...okay!” Yunho cheers, as if he's figured something out. He bows twice quickly, then briskly walks towards the hotel. “Okay!” he calls out again, opening the door for me.

 

I take my time approaching him once again. “Kashamninda,” I bow, crying on the inside. My chaperone quickly follows suit behind me without so much as a “thank you”.

 

To my surprise, Yunho closes the door behind himself and follows us inside. I shyly smile and wave back as my chaperone guides me down towards the elevator.

 

“It was nice meeting you, Oppa. Goodbye,” I bow, being urged on still.

 

“Yes, you too! Goodbye Mona Eric!” he cries, waving like a child. I giggle at his poor pronunciation.

 

I don't know whether or not to swoon, faint, cry, or be mad at my chaperone for ruining it all by the time we're inside the elevator. She mentions something about befriending complete strangers in a foreign country, but my mind is still downstairs in the lobby.

 

That is until we stepped out of the elevator onto the fifth floor.

 

“HI!” I hear Yunho scream from down the hallway. Still waving like down in the lobby, he comes running up to my chaperone and I from the stairwell. Swoon.

 

My chaperone clutches my shoulder quickly. “Mona, why is this man following us?” she asks in a hushed, annoyed manner. She bends over into my ear. “I will have him removed from the building if he keeps bothering us.”

 

“Oh, no, don't do that!” I gasp. “Please, don't do that. He won't keep bothering us, I promise, it's just that-”

 

“Hi, Mona Eric!” Yunho crouches down to meet me face to face. My chaperone jumps back, dragging me with her. Yunho blinks at the sudden movement.

 

“I scare you?” he implores, blinking and pointing to himself.

 

“Wha- n-no!” I shake my head vigorously. I my hand and point at the chaperone. “You scare her!”

 

I'm taken aback by Yunho's laughter erupting through the hallway. It's obvious that my chaperone feels the same. But before she can say anything, I start to laugh too.

 

The door to the joint hotel room slams behind me. Oh, if she spent one more second out here, she would have caved and started laughing too. Fine, be that way. I'm sure I'll hear about it from you later.

 

When the laughter dies down, I find myself staring at Yunho intently. His body is carved to perfection, and the light from the ceiling almost seems to radiate and glow off of his clear skin. I marvel at his toned arms and chest, and finally find my gaze on his beautiful face. I then realize that I'm gazing into his dark eyes...and they're gazing back.

 

Oh. My God. He's gazing back.

 

“I-uh-I'm sorry!” I bow apologetically. Several times. Wow, could I get any lamer?

 

At first he simply blinks in confusion, but his confusion is quickly side-swept with his eagerness. “Oh, that's okay!” he smiles again. I swear, if this were a cartoon, he would have little sparkles all around his body. And I would have hearts over my head.

 

I find myself in another awkward silence. Only this time, I don't have another escape. “Uhm...do you want to come in?” I gesture, pointing towards my door. “Do you want something to eat?”

 

“Apple?” he perks. Oh, dear. Clearly, before TVXQ had their little falling out, Junsu didn't teach Yunho much more English than simple words. Oh well, it's still incredibly cute that Yunho's trying to keep the conversation going, maybe even more so than I am.

 

“You want an apple?” I ask, pointing once again to the door. I reach my hand out to open it slowly. “Maybe my friends will have some ins-”

 

Buzz. Buzz buzz.

 

What in the world?

 

Buzz buzz. Buzz. Buzz buzz.

 

Yunho jumps frantically, shoving his hand into his back pocket. He spins like a dog chasing its tail, attempting to grab what sounds like a vibrating phone from out of his reach. He slides it out of his pocket and holds it firmly in his left hand. He points to it urgently.

 

“Oh...oh! Okay, you have to take the call,” I say stupidly, nodding my head in acknowledgement.

 

He nods in response, walking backwards and still pointing to the phone. “Goodbye!” he says with uncertainty, turning on his heels to run down the hallway. It's not long after that I find myself alone in the hallway of the hotel's fifth floor.

 

I manage to stagger backwards into the door before my legs collapse underneath me. All the time I've just spend with Jung Yunho and I haven't fully processed the scenario. My absolute favorite person in my absolute favorite genre of music in the absolute whole world. And I just let him slip through my fingers. I don't know whether to curse myself, or praise myself for remaining so calm. The only two things I can make out are mind-boggling: 1) Yunho's phone vibrates almost as loudly as mine does...did. And 2) I just conversed with Jung Yunho, and I didn't completely lose it.

 

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:D What did I tell you? Better, right?

...I hope so, anywayz :P lol

I think that's enough posting today. I'll try posting more when I'm not trying to do homework XD

~Much thanks~