A guy pressed up against me, and he smiled apologetically. You know, like it was nothing. IT WAS NOT NOTHING! You can't just grind on someone, and then smile! What if that person was really a girl?! Like me?

Another teenage boy tried to squeeze himself into the same space I was in, and I was caught in the middle of a guy sandwich. They moved me right into a crowd of guys going to the other way, and by the time I was safely out, I'd been grinded with at least ten times. That can't be right. Is that what guys do in same- boarding schools? Secretly press up against each other?

"Here you go," the bored-looking teacher guy said, as he lead me through some random shiny corridor - I'd lost count of how many left and right turns we'd taken, it was like a bloody maze. Well, apart from that, so far, what I'd seen of the school seemed alright - but it was totally massive. Completely different from my high school - you know, woody and ancient. This school was enormous and hi-tech, all chrome and glass, which was definitely intimidating. There were at least fifteen science labs (for what, though? These kids sing and dance and act all day, when are they going to find time to do experiments?).

I looked out of the window, at the typical Seoul cloudless blue sky, and I tried to look calm. I mean, what was the point of taking acting if you couldn't even look confident?

"This is your room."

Room 13. Kind of prophetic, don't you think?

"How's my roommate?" I asked, my voice strained. Not because I felt awkward here (of course not, I'm an actor. I exude confidence. Definitely). It was sort of a mix between the fact that my bodice is slowly squeezing me to death, and the fact that my vocal coach had an American accent. Totally not helpful if you don't want to sound foreign, by the way.

"He drove out his last fifteen roommates, which is why he got to live alone for about two months."

I nodded, the only reaction I had to this information, and swung the door open. Whoa... It was gorgeous! It was an elegant clash of wood and glass - like it was out one of those interior design magazines every gets shoved through their door but can't be bothered to read. There was a massive main room, with two humongous beds and a flat screen TV and a leather sofa. God, it was beautiful.

I was totally dismayed when the bored guy followed me. Do adults not know when to leave?

"That is your bathroom," he said, vaguely gesturing at a door. "That one is your bed." He pointed at the bed that wasn't littered with dirty clothes. "And that is your closet."

"Thank you, Mr, er..." I searched his chest for a little name tag, but he didn't have one. "Mister."

"Anytime, Yoong."

That's right. I chose the name Im Yoong, after my real name Im Yoona, because I'm imaginative like that. It's the very reason I'm a screenwriter, not an actor (not the sarcasm).

I settled down, dumping down my brown suitcase, the one I'd ditched my pretty pink one for. I lay down on my bed, testing its springiness. It was way too hard - and I was the kind of person who couldn't fall asleep without a really soft bed.

But my roommate's, on the other hand...

I sa