Minhee slumped over in her desk, her cheek resting against the wooden surface of the table as she idly doodled pictures on a scrap piece of paper. She had decided against spying on Chanyeol today, so instead she had arrived fifteen minutes early for her class. Not many people were in the lecture hall yet, so Minhee took advantage of the time to collect herself and her thoughts.

            Now that a couple hours had been put in between Minhee and Bora’s initial plan, Minhee had begun to have her doubts about Chanyeol dating Seulgi as a rebound. Chanyeol had not even spared her a glance, and he had regarded her with an attitude so frosty that even now Minhee could feel the burn of the rejection.

            Minhee felt her cheeks redden with shame; Minhee was used to being that girl: the one that no one simply dumped on a whim. Chanyeol had shown her to the door, and although Minhee had complained the whole time she had been with him, she couldn’t help but feel like she was the one that had messed up. Maybe because she had not realized just how happy he made her until he was gone.

            Okay, Cho Minhee admitted to herself. So maybe she wasn’t quite over Park Chanyeol.

            Images of Chanyeol smiling down at her, of Chanyeol throwing her that goofy grin as he reached down to hold her hand, of Chanyeol leaning down to press his mouth against hers. Minhee hated that she remembered all those little things about him, like how he never just grabbed her hand when he wanted to hold hers; he would loop his fingers with hers and little by little he drew her in until their palms were pressed so close that Minhee could swear that it had never left her grip.

            How different things were now. Images of Chanyeol’s hand in Seulgi’s, of his hands in her hair, of his lips on another girl’s danced through Minhee’s head, and she had to press her eyes shut as tight as they would go to push everything from her mind.

            Rage burned hot down into her stomach at these thoughts; no one dumped Cho Minhee and got away with it. Minhee was going to make Chanyeol pay for every tear he cost her, for every time she had shaved her legs for him, for each time she wore painfully high heels around all day with the hope that he would somehow see what he was missing out on and come crawling back. Yes, Minhee was going to make him rue the day he ever ended it with her.

            “Hello. Is it okay if I sit here?” A cute voice pulled Minhee from her thoughts. Minhee blinked and looked straight into the eyes of the devil, herself: Han Seulgi.

            “Umm,” Minhee was confused as to why Seulgi was talking to her. “I mean, no one is sitting there, so...”

            “Thanks!” Seulgi was unbelievably perky, and she literally did a happy dance at Minhee’s halfhearted response. “I’m Seulgi. We are going to be great friends, I know it already!”

            “I’m Minhee.” Minhee looked at the girl as though she had lost her mind. Who did this girl think she was? Did she even know that she was Chanyeol’s scorned ex-girlfriend who wanted nothing more than to stomp on his face in her highest stiletto heels?

            “Oh, I know who you are,” Seulgi began, that bubbly grin not slipping from her face for a second, “I love your outfits. I’ve always seen you around campus, but I have never had the nerve to talk to you until today. You have been kind of an inspiration to me.”

            Minhee had to clench her hands into fists to keep her jaw from dropping to the floor. .What on earth was going on? Was Seulgi actually that stupid?

            “What?”

            “Anyways,” Seulgi continued, pulling ridiculously pink girly stationary from her bag, completely oblivious to Minhee’s attitude. “I’m glad to finally make friends with you.”

            “Yeah,” Minhee was in a state of shock. “Me. Too.”

            “Truthfully,” Seulgi lowered her voice, looking around as though she was about to tell Minhee her deepest secret, “I have been having a hard time making friends here since I transferred last year. I’m so glad I have Chanyeol, at least. But, you know, spending time with only boys is a bit difficult, you know.”

            “Oh?”

            Seulgi nodded modestly, pulling a laptop covered in girly stickers and placing it in front of her. “I met him last year and he was really nice. He was always there for me when I had no one and a couple of weeks ago when I went out to dinner with him and some of our friends, you know,” she shrugged as though it was no big deal even though a huge, happy smile was spreading across her cheeks, and Minhee hated how contagious it was. “We just clicked. He gets me.”

            Seulgi had the smile that Minhee had on her face the day she had her first kiss with Chanyeol, the kind that nothing short of the apocalypse could dim. Minhee felt jealousy at Seulgi’s mention of “our friends,” and “always there for me.” Chanyeol had never been anything of the sort for her.

            Much to her surprise, Minhee found herself unbelievably, bitterly jealous of sweet, dimwitted little Seulgi with her long hair and large s.

            Minhee scrutinized Seulgi. The poor, sweet, stupid little girl genuinely had no clue that Chanyeol had gone out with her for one day shy of a year. Minhee felt an odd sense of protectiveness towards the girl, and she hated how Seulgi was just so unhateable once she talked to her.

            Minhee wanted Seulgi to leave quickly so she could go back to hating her guts from afar. The professor walked in and Seulgi shot Minhee a glowing smile that Minhee met with a tight one of her own before turning to the front of the class.

            The poor girl is clueless, Minhee thought, shaking her head in pity.

She couldn’t wait until Chanyeol dumped Seulgi, too, but she found another part of her that knew that she was going to be the one cleaning up another girl’s mess.

            Minhee examined her reflection in the salon mirror, nodding in approval. Directly after class, Minhee had called ahead to schedule a hair appointment; if she was going to make Chanyeol jealous and Minho fall at her feet, she was going to need to step her game to a whole new level.

            So she bleached her hair.

            She hadn’t just gotten it some cute little shade of blonde, she had bleached it a stunning platinum that hung directly at shoulder level in a blunt cut. Minhee smiled at her reflection and ran a timid hand over her hair.

"Great work," she told her stylist, who was standing off to the side. "It looks great."

And Minhee did look great. She looked positively smoking. The white-blonde hair surprisingly complemented her darkened eyebrows that slanted into pointy lines above her already heavily charcoaled eye makeup that she had opted for that morning. Even the mole that dotted just above her upper lip that Minhee usually abhorred (it looked like a piece of dirt stuck to her face, in Minhee's opinion) looked glamorous. With one fell swoop, Minhee had shed the sweet, nice girl aesthetic she had been rocking, and was now some hybrid of seductive and intimidating.

Not that Minhee still couldn't rock the sweetheart look with her new hair. Of course she still could; Cho Minhee could very damn well do whatever she wanted.

After Minhee paid the arm and leg for her new personality, she exited the salon and finally got up the nerve to dial the number in her phone that had originally been scribbled hastily on her bleeding leg, which was now generously wrapped in extra-large Band-Aids. To gather up said courage took Minhee three espresso shots and a blueberry muffin. By the time she picked up her phone, the new blonde was all but shaking.

"Hello?" Came the voice from the other end.

“Minho?” Minhee stuttered, hating how even over the phone with Minho she was blushing and tripping over her own tongue. “It’s me, Minhee.”

“Who?”

She cringed and slapped her head down into her palms in utter humiliation. “The girl you ran over on the sidewalk and offered to take to lunch. That Minhee.”

“Oh!” Minho exclaimed, his voice brightening about ten shades. “Minhee! Sorry, it takes me a bit to put faces to names.”

“No biggie,” Minhee mumbled into the speaker, her foot jiggling anxiously as she prepared her next line. “So, I was thinking.”

“Thinking,” Minhee could hear the smile in his voice. “That’s always a good sign. It’s great to know I didn’t completely knock all the sense out of you after I nearly steam roller-ed you on the sidewalk that afternoon. Please, do go on.”

Giving a nervous laugh, she hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath. It was now or never, Minhee cheered herself on internally. She had never had to be the one to ask the guy out to go anywhere. At this, she frowned. Was she losing her touch?

“Minhee? You still there?”

“Oh, no,” Minhee jolted herself back to reality. “Sorry, I had a moment. Umm, Minho, would you like to go out to dinner with me? I am free this evening.”

“Oh,” Minho replied, sounding surprised. “I actually have something right after, so if you would be willing to meet up somewhere on campus, I could eat with you. It wouldn’t be a proper meet up or anything, though.”

“That’s fine,” she decided to take what she could get, feeling a small smile form on the corner of .. “I mean, as long as you are buying.”

“Of course,” came his reply. “I was the one who scraped up your knees, right? It’s the least I could do.”

“Then I’ll see you at five thirty? Is that okay?”

“It’s a date.”