1- Transfer Student

I wake up in a start, looking at the spinning fan as I fight myself to get up. It's 7.30 in the morning. As I brace myself to sitting position, I faced my reflection on the mirror.

Although I had cut my hair as short as boys', they'd eventually turned into a bird's nest. As if the mother bird and its chick had been living there for the past few seasons.

I rake my hair with my tiny little fingers and frown. This is the real me. The real me which looks so pathetic, short and ordinary. Well, ugly as an old witch in every mornings.

I arrange my bed and dart towards the bathroom for shower, follow by some cleaning in my mouth. "Today is a brand new day." I sigh, and get myself dressed.

Now I feel refreshed and energetic. The cool shower had injected my spirit with hyperstrength. After having my breakfast, I drive myself to the university which is 30 minutes route from my house.

I reach my destination and realise, the utterly quiet University of Reading in usual is now crowded and occupied. Filling myself with curiosity, I enter the campus, hearing crazy cries and cheers from the girls.

Wait. What are they shouting again? It was extremely noisy here. The voices are blurry and I can't make out any word. I look towards where their eyes fixed on and saw a tall Korean boy. Waving to everyone.

"Anyeounghasaeyo, my name is..." His introduction rises the volume of the screaming. "I will be a transfer student in University of Reading, starting today. Thank you." Although it is only a short and simple speech, it is breathtaking, for the girls.

I stand behind the crowd, watching as he gives his speech. As I am shortsighted, I can't really see his face clearly. The only thing I know about him is tall, fair, stylish...and his name which brings energy to all girls: Jeon Jungkook.

I pace away from the crowd and head towards the awaiting library. A strong feeling coming up in my soul. He looks familiar to me. His name, too. As if I'd heard it before.

Well, he is an idol. Maybe on TV?

I stop my reverie by slapping myself hard. "JiaQi! This is none of your business." My instinct shouts at me, for me to wake up. "He's just working for a Korean channel. Nothing else. He would never remember you.." I bite my lip and find a seat.

I try to calm down. But something urges me to keep remembering it. And I don't want to. I don't dare to, either.