“Go on, self! Don’t stop! Arghhh, almost there... almost there!” You muttered to yourself, willing your feet to move, focusing on the end goal. Get to the dorm. Get through this. It’ll be fine.

You were almost there.

Dragging your overstuffed suitcase up the never-ending stairs to the dorm, your legs screamed for mercy. The thing was packed tight with all your clothes — shirts, pants, even socks threatening to burst out if you so much as sneezed wrong. The uniform felt completely foreign — stiff blazer, awkward slacks. Nothing fit right. You wanted to scream.

The reality of the situation, though, was far from fine. You were pretending to be a boy. You, a girl, were in an all-boys school. The weight of the situation finally started to hit you. This was insane.

What was I thinking?! You kept your head low and your cap pulled tight over your hair, trying to act natural, though you were anything but. You were so not supposed to be here. This was the craziest thing you’d ever done.

But why did I do it? It was for him. Kang Tae-joon. Your idol. The high jump athlete. You watched him perform, and when news of his leg injury broke, you knew you had to do something. You wanted to help him recover emotionally. But now, standing at the edge of this crazy decision, you couldn't help but wonder what had possessed you.

I’m supposed to be helping him... Instead, you were stuck in this ridiculous disguise, stumbling through your first steps as a boy. I am not even supposed to be here. Why did I think I could pull this off?

The sound of footsteps behind you pulled you from your spiraling thoughts.

“Struggling?”

The voice was cool, nonchalant, and instantly familiar. Your heart skipped a beat.

You spun around, wide-eyed, and locked eyes with none other than Kang Tae-joon himself — a sleek black suitcase dangling from one of his hands, the kind that obviously held nothing but books and school supplies, compared to the chaotic, bulging monster you were dragging behind you.

Of course. Of course, it had to be him.

You froze, the air leaving your lungs. Your mind went blank.

Why am I so bad at this?! You wanted to scream. Why am I such a mess?!

But before you could react, you lost your balance. Your suitcase caught on the stairs, the weight of it yanking you backward. You didn’t just fall — you rode the suitcase down.

“AHHH!” you screamed, flailing helplessly as you slid down the steps. Everything happened in a blur until you crashed into a tree at the bottom.

Your suitcase exploded open. Clothes, books, and — oh no — some items you thought you had hidden deep inside, tumbled out in all directions.

You scrambled to stand, cheeks flaming. This is a disaster.

Tae-joon, still standing on the steps, watched the chaos unfold without even looking surprised. Casually, he bent down, picked up a pair of bright pink socks from the mess, and raised an eyebrow at you.

“So... chick-boy, huh?” he asked, his voice dripping with amusement.

Chick-boy. You wanted to disappear.

Desperately, you cleared your throat, trying to deepen your voice, though it cracked horribly in the process. “A-ah... y-yeah, bro,” you stammered, feeling like the worst pretender ever.

Tae-joon smirked, tossed the panty back into your suitcase like it was the most normal thing in the world, then slung his black suitcase higher onto his shoulder. “You better hurry. Dorm inspections are in an hour.”