I stepped inside the quaint café, finally escaping the brisk chill of the winter air.

The place was filled to the bursting with civilians all trying to warm their bodies.

The café’s air was heavy with the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip muffins and grinded coffee beans.

I scanned the area for the restrooms and elbowed my way through the crowd.

There were only two rooms, one for men and the other for women, but the women’s line stretched farther than a line at a Chanel sale.

I sighed and stepped from the women’s line, settling on using the men’s. As I turned the knob, I could hear the symphony of judgemental snickers from women who were more frustrated with themselves for not having the courage to do what I was doing. 

With disregard, I stepped inside the men’s restroom, being slightly taken aback by the strong scent of urine.

I locked the door behind me and flicked on the light switch, bringing to light all the horror of the porcelain urinal to the right of me.

Apparently some men didn’t find it necessary to flush after going, but that didn’t bother me, since I was only here for the mirror above the sink.

With one swift motion of my hand, I knocked all of the brown paper towel debris to the floor and set up my cosmetics.

Even though two years have passed since my identity switch, I still find it strange to look at Jung Hyerim staring back at me.

Or should I say Jung Eunji, since that’s who I really am now.

I reached my hand to my head and pulled the hair tie that held my long dark brown hair in a lopsided ponytail.

This hair was much harder to manage than the chin length copper hair I used to have.

Back then it was effortless to handle, and it was reasonable for every season.

Jung Hyerim’s hair required a great deal of attention because of the abundance of it. It was thick and hard to brush at times, and it made the back of my neck sweaty in the hot humid months.

But I shouldn’t complain.

I’m alive after all.

At least that’s what that scamming Dr. Bradford kept saying to me.

“Get it together Eunji,” I said out loud, looking into the mirror.

I ruffled my hair and popped the cap off my apricot lip gloss. Then I took my thumb and smudged the eyeliner around the corner of my eyes.

I looked into the mirror at all angles, making sure I looked well put together.

There was something I couldn’t deny about having Hyerim’s body: it was much better than my former.

Soohyun had a boyish figure, easily dressed in jeans and a Dodgers jersey from Sunday to Thursday. Fridays and Saturdays were reserved for the sundresses she wore when gardening or hanging out with friends.

She barely got a second glance from men, whereas Eunji attracted, well…everyone. Six year old girls looked at her and tugged on their mother’s coats, wanting to get their hair the same way. Thirty year old men broke their necks to let their gazes wander from their wives and children.

It was the sort of attention my brain wasn’t used to, but as Eunji, I’d never let that show.

I had to be fierce and confident; stealth and serious.

That is Jung Eunji. I am Jung Eunji.

In the midst of my think