“What is she doing here? Isn’t she pulling double duty with her drama and ‘We Got Married’?” a girl with blunt bangs remarked discreetly, or so she thought, to another girl with curly hair that was dyed in a rich shade of ash blonde.

“I know. I wonder why. She’s too old to be in college, don’t you think? I thought she graduated already,” replied girl number two, “She better not get any special treatment just because her popularity is soaring.”

Blunt bangs scoffed, “Well it’s not like she’s a spectacular actress. If she were, she wouldn’t be constantly playing second fiddle next to some B-list actress. She should be grateful that she finally got her big break. I mean, like, seriously. If you ask me, she’s just another pretty face in a sea of ulzzangs.”

The two gossip mongering ladies went on with their speculations while giggling like those stereotypical mean girls who grace your TV screen and kept looking toward my direction subtly. Unfortunately for them, I was very perceptive and even matters as mundane as that never get past me. Had it been a normal day, I wouldn’t have thought twice about giving them a piece of my mind and reminding them about how that was no way to treat a sunbae. However, this day was anything but normal and it would be better to let it go because I was too worn out to care. Filming for both ‘Liar Game’ and ‘We Got Married’ went on for four days straight and I couldn’t even get some shuteye that went past an hour. Add to my fatigue was the fact that I had to wake up this morning earlier than I should because of an inopportune event that I would rather not talk about right now. For now, I would just let these two imbeciles have a field day nitpicking the highs and lows of my career. There was nothing I wanted more than to lie on my bed, hide under the soft covers, and fall into deep slumber. All day long. Remind me again why I’m here, confined within the four walls of this classroom. On a freakin’ Saturday when I was supposed to be resting.

Oh right. The geniuses of Chung Ang University hatched up a new policy regarding a student’s residency. Since a huge chunk of the student body was composed of celebrities, both idols and actors alike, it didn’t get past the administrators’ watchful eyes that most of these students had been taking excessive leaves to fulfill the demands of their career. As a consequence, they deemed it necessary to implement a policy to ensure fairness among celebrity students and regular ones, and to encourage them to remain committed to their academics.

As per the recently implemented policy, students who were either on leave for more than two consecutive semesters or failed at least six units or more were required to attend a three-month extension program every Saturday to compensate for the deficiencies. Failure to do so would result in forfeiture of slot in the university.

The good: it would motivate students, celebrity or not, to do their best. The bad: I was one of those students who needed to fulfill this requirement. It had been two years since the last time I was academically active. I was determined to go back to school and take a full load after wrapping up the weekend drama ‘A Thousand Kisses’, but a slew of projects had been offered to me left and right and they were all too good to resist. Who was I to complain? Better strike while the iron is hot. Unfortunately, I had to pay the consequences of my decisions.

My musings were disrupted when two guys, whose names I didn’t know but recognized as my batchmates, entered the room. They took their seats on the front row while chatting animatedly. How I missed my friends. Nothing could feel more depressing than staring at a blank wall while mentally distracting yourself from a conversation, in which you had been made the object of ridicule, a few seats a way. I could really use a friend right now. Ara-yah, where are you when I need you? I could imagine what it would be like had she been here with me. Time wouldn’t have dragged on as both of us would be busy filling each other in on crazy stories. Not to mention, she would definitely put those two airheads in their place in a heartbeat.

A few minutes had gone by when the professor finally walked in. The moment she reached the teacher’s desk, I immediately recognized her as Professor Shin Kyung Min, my professor in Theater 101 during freshman year. Thank goodness. Dressed impeccably in a pair of tailored trousers that flattered her long legs and a stylish cream blouse, while a pair of pointed heels adorned her feet, she exuded the confidence of an alpha female. Her hair was cropped in a chic asymmetrical bob that framed her face perfectly. My experience in her class would be one of the most unforgettable. She may have kept a tight rein on her students, but most of us wouldn’t be where we were if it weren’t for her ‘tough love’.

“Annyeong haseyo! Welcome to the extension program. I’m Professor Shin Kyung Min,” she greeted and introduced herself with poise.

After we returned her greeting, she flashed a reserved smile and eyed us one by one, “Familiar faces, I see. I think I might as well spare you guys from the formalities, yes?”

I sighed in relief. I didn’t think it was the best time for a self-introduction, considering how my energy was at an all-time low.

Professior Shin opened her crocodile-skin briefcase and got a stack of papers that looked like handouts.

“So, there could be only two reasons why you’re in this room at this moment,” she said as she distributed the handouts to the five of us.

“It’s either you failed to pass six units or more last semester,” she stated matter-of-factly while eyeing the two ladies. Ha! They probably spent a great deal of their time sticking their noses to other people’s business rather than paying attention to their studies. Why wasn’t I surprised? “Or took excessive leaves,” she finished and looked toward my direction. Guilty.

“Whichever the case is, you are all here to make up for it,” she stressed.

I turned my attention to the handout and read through the content. My eyes widened when they zoomed in on the word “outreach”. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t that I dreaded doing community service, but given my overflowing plate at the moment, I was setting myself up for something that was more than I could bear.

“If you have read the guidelines on the handout, you must have an idea what this course is all about by now. Obviously, you’re all acting majors. Some of you have been fortunate enough to break into the industry, while there are those who are still testing the waters. But I don’t think it matters because wh