Minhee screamed in ruthless victory the moment she set foot within her apartment, kicking aside the various articles of clothing she left sprawled haphazardly across the carpeted floor and dive bombing onto her couch with one running leap. Once she was good and settled into the cushions, Minhee fished around in her bra for her phone and dialed Bora.

            Bora answered on the second ring, and Minhee could hear the crunching of chips through the speaker, much to her disgust, “Yeah?”

            “Bora, you-know-who was at the coffee shop on my date with Minho, oh my god, you should have seen his face!” Minhee was positively cackling, although one arm reached out lazily for the bag of Cheetos that lay open on the table.

            “What! No way!” Bora screamed, a loud crash coming from her end of the line and several curses.

            “Bora?” Minhee called to her friend over the phone, holding it slightly away from her ear as the glanced down at her screen as though she could see to the other end. “Is everything okay over there?”

            “Yeah, no, we’re fine,” came her slightly pained reply. “I just walked into a glass door, is all. Nothing permanent. Continue.”

            “Okay. So he walked in, right,” she then proceeded to spill every detail to her friend, who drank it up like it was a chocolate milkshake.

            “I was so right,” was the first thing Bora said when Minhee had finished telling the story for the third time. “He is 100% not over you.”

            Minhee shot up from the sofa, the phone still clutched to her ear like a lifeline. “So what do I do? Bora, you have to help me.”

            “I’m on my way over now,” was all Bora said, and then the line went dead.

            Minhee looked around at the extra cheesy Cheeto puffs that were in her lap and, as though Bora were in the room with her, suddenly stuffed the bag out of sight in her cupboard. After about ten minutes of the frantic hiding of her junk food and errant bras, Minhee answered Bora’s knock on the door.

            Bora stood on her step with about five large sacks of what appeared to be clothes and beauty supplies. Minhee, in all of her years and experience of fashion and grooming, had never seen a more intimidating sight than her best friend wielding these weapons of mass destruction.

            “Let me in,” was all Bora said before she muscled her way inside of the apartment, knocking a flabbergasted Minhee against the wall in the process.

            “What are you doing?” Minhee bounded after her friend on their way to the bathroom.

            “The question is what you are going to be doing,” Bora responded as she began to pull various cans and tubes out of one of the sacks.

            “Okay, so what will I be doing?” Minhee put her hand on her hip as she leaned against her counter.

            “Creating a new you,” Bora turned to her. “Why do you think he noticed you? You dyed your hair, you got a new boyfriend, and for once you weren’t chasing after him like a puppy after its master.”

            “Hey!” Minhee pouted. “I didn’t chase after him.”

            “Think about it!” Bora tapped the side of her head with her index finger for emphasis. “Now that you don’t want him anymore, he is suddenly acting interested again. Minhee, this is your chance for revenge! Move on before he does!”

            “And I do that by changing who I am?” Minhee balked. “I like the way I look.”

            Bora waved a hand. “It’s not super major, just some makeup and shoes,” she looked down into the bag again. “And a few accessories.”

            Shaking her head again, Minhee bit her lip, "But why do I have to do all of these things just to get him to notice me?"

            Grinning impishly, Bora shook her bag ominously, its contents shifting around inside rather ominously, "Come on, we aren't changing much. You can always change back if you don't like it after we crush him like the bug he is."

            That answer was good enough for Minhee, and she reached for the bag to look inside of it but recoiled as Bora slapped her hand away. “Look after. Now hold still.”

            And with that, Bora roughly forced Minhee down into the chair, and uncapped a stick of eyeliner with her teeth and spit out the cap somewhere across the room. Deciding it would probably be better not to look at the disaster going on in front of her, Minhee closed her eyes and waited patiently for the end result. Grunting, shocking swear words that Minhee never knew could even be paired together, and sharp jabs, pokes, and prods ensued until Bora's sigh of satisfaction told Minhee that her best friend was done.

            “Alright,” Bora finally uttered, sounding pleased with herself. “Look in the mirror.”

            Minhee timidly opened her eyes and balked at what she saw in front of her. “I look- wow.”

            Wow was an understatement. While Minhee usually was one for flare with makeup, choosing to be bold with dramatic wings and colorful eyeshadows and lipsticks that complemented her outfit, Bora had decided to do the complete opposite. Minhee’s eyeliner had been swapped out for a subtle, thin black liner around her eyes that were brought to life with a rosy bronze glow. Her lips were the bubblegum shade they usually were.

            Minhee, on any other occasion, would have looked in the mirror and declared that she looked horrible without her war paint, but somehow this more easygoing look made her look happier, more relaxed. Her eyes usually bordered on vengeful with the smoky clouds that she powdered around them, but in the mirror, they were clear, sparkling, even. In about an hour, Bora had created a new, younger, and happier-looking Minhee, and Minhee found that she didn't mind one bit.

            “I love it.”

            Bora grinned in satisfaction. “No way will he be able to keep his eyes off of you.”

            “Bora, how did you think of this?”

            Bora sighed. “Girl, I’ve been trying to get you to lay off the eyeshadow for years, but you never listened. You looked like you were always about to go clubbing. No wonder half the male population is terrified to go near you”

            Minhee thought about taking offense to the statement, but shrugged when she though back to the hours and dollars she spent on her eyeliner. “I guess you’re right.”

            “Oh, thank God.”

            Minhee left her apartment for her morning classes wearing nothing but her newfound confidence, a white t-shirt, dark wash, low rise skinny jeans, and the beat up KEDS Bora had found rotting in the back of Minhee’s closet, and all she could say was that she thought that she looked honest-to-God nice. Her hair hung blonde and blunt about her shoulders in a way that made Minhee smile at herself in the mirror that morning. Minhee had originally been morally opposed to the idea of wearing real, honest-to-God sneakers out and about, but had taken one look at her glowing reflection in the mirror and decided what the heck.

            And besides, Minhee shrugged, her ankles deserved a break, after all of the foot mangling high heels she had inflicted upon them.

            Hamin, making his way up the stairs, his sweaty gym towel hung about his neck, tripped on the top step upon seeing Minhee’s new look. His shocked expression was very apparent in the way his jaw hung open and swung from his ears.

            “Morning, Hamin,” Minhee smiled sweetly at him and purposely swept down the stairs. Hey, even if she wasn’t wearing her wings, she could still have a flair for the dramatics.

            Minhee all but waltzed down the sidewalk and into the elevator for her first class of the day. The building had 8 stories, and because she was running about 25 minutes early, which for Minhee was right on schedule, she decided to get a snack from the vending machine first on the 3^rd floor.

            Digging for the last coin in her purse (she heard it rattling around the bottom of her bag), Minhee looked up in surprise as she heard a final coin slide into the machine, and not by her hand. The sight of a familiar forearm rang alarm bells in her head, and Minhee felt her face fall into a scowl.

            Park Chanyeol was standing right behind her, looking at her face with a surprised expression.

            “What happened to you?” he asked her. “You look so different.”

            Minhee saw her opportunity and took it; besides, she had no guarantee as to when he would actually talk to her again. “People change and move on, Park Chanyeol.”

              “That’s bull, Minhee, and you know it.”

            Chanyeol crossed his arms, and Minhee knew he had officially engaged in the fight. She had her new-and-improved war paint on and was ready to come out swinging. She had been ready for the past two months. Until now, however, Chanyeol had never given her an opportunity to hit him back, and Minhee would be damned if she wasn't about to make good use of it.

            “Excuse me? You’re one to talk about bull, Chanyeol! What is this with Seulgi I’m hearing about? And I’m sorry, but why are you talking to me now? Is it because of Minho?” Chanyeol's head snapped back in surprise at her direct words, but Minhee was ready to spit fire.

            “Don’t talk about Seulgi like that,” Chanyeol hissed, stepping forward and pressing her back against the vending machine. A vein throbbed in his neck, the way it always did when he got angry, and Minhee had to blink hard to take her eyes away from it, hating that she still noticed the little things about him.

            Minhee refused to give an inch, and raised her chin defiantly. “I can say whatever I want and you can’t stop me.”

            “Oh yeah?” Chanyeol pressed forward even more, all but spitting in her face. “Then what about that boy from the other day? Minho, was it? How cute,” he snarled. “Minho and Minhee. The boy looked like all he wanted was inside your pants.”

            "What did you just say to me," she felt the back of her neck grow hot. "You did not just say that to me."

            Chanyeol grew even closer, and his breath blew hot over her face. "What did you even have to do to get him to look at you?"

            "Don't you dare," Minhee's face flamed, and she jerked her chin upwards, her nose brushing his, but all Minhee could concentrate on was just how completely and utterly angry this boy in front of her made her feel. "I hate you, Park Chanyeol."

            "Right back at you, . Just know that sooner or later, Minho is going to see you for the soul- demon you really are."

            The two stood still for a moment, their breath mingling in one hot, sticky heat that completely enveloped the two. Chanyeol's larger frame hulked over Minhee's slighter figure, causing her to be smashed against the vending machine.

            “Jealousy doesn’t suit you,” Minhee growled, her voice low and intimate, yet loaded with venom. “And Minho, unlike you, actually cares about me. He’s putting me first.”

            This was the last straw for Chanyeol. “Don’t you dare say that I didn’t care for you. You don’t even understand-“ he stopped himself.

            “Understand what?” Minhee’s voice went soft. “What don’t I understand?”

            A person cleared their throat. “Umm, not to disturb, but do you mind? I have a class in five and haven’t eaten breakfast yet.”

            The two of them suddenly realized their awkward position, with him pressing her back into the glass of the machine and her chin lifted up to meet his face. Their lips were all of two inches apart.

            Chanyeol’s eyes went to and then back up to her eyes, and she saw that most of the anger was gone. “I am not going to do this,” he whispered. “I won’t.”

            Minhee glared up at him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she focused all of the additional rage bubbling up to the surface directly on him. “Park Chanyeol, this is war, and I am not going to stop until I ruin you,” she leaned upwards on her tip toes so that she could feel her lips skim the shell of his ear. “And then I’m going to rip the heart out of your chest and stomp on it with my favorite pair of stilettos.”

            Chanyeol leaned back, his mouth curled into a smirk. “I’d like to see you try. We all know this is going to end up just like it did the last time,” he backed away down the hall, his hands in his pockets. “Bring it on, Cho Minhee.” He was out of her vision before she realized he had taken her Cheetos.

            "Damn you, Park Chanyeol!" Minhee yelled down the hallway without a care of the weird looks she got from the other students.

Do you guys like my new cover? A massive thank you to my new friend Peodbear for making it for me out of the kindness of her heart! I have actually been getting several submissions of covers that especially inspired readers have taken the time to create. By all means, feel free to send me your work, and I will put them all in my stories! I love getting feedback and your art! It's all so amazing! (BTW How crazy is it that I just hit 500 subscribers on my other story, Something Wicked This Way Comes?! Check it out if you have not already!)

XOXO Abby Lee