this book will teach you:

1. what cheating really is.
2. why slut shaming is pathetic.
3. how even the best people make mistakes.
4. and most importantly, how to say no.

Now, I proudly present: the very first chapter of How To Be A Hoe!

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"Uh, hello?"

This was the first time you'd finally called out, after three tries and, well, fails of ringing the doorbell. The corridor was dark.

The last thing you would want was to be stuck in a haunted building for the rest of your years in university. But you couldn't ignore the stories—the ones you picked up from whispered sites and gossip columns of the local magazine.

Even though you'd have thought it would involve more paparazzi kind of stuff about, well, university, but when a page spoke about a guy who had died here back in the nineteenth century, it was kind of hard to ignore.

Well, you weren't giving up your hard earned scholarship for such a prestigious university for a gossip column about paranormal activity.

There was no reply.

The handle of your suitcase felt slippery under your sweaty palm. You still had your key in your hand, but you stared at the door uncomfortably, unsure how to proceed.

"Is anybody in there?" You asked hopefully, voice tapering to a weak end. "Damn, I thought I was supposed to have a roommate."

Silence.

Which was also what had been said when you ended the call with your mother about a quarter of an hour ago, when you were still in the cab and still had the reassurance of family backing you up. Though you'd ended it on terms of not wanting to hear any more no drugs and you'll know when you become a mother yourself classics.

It had been cool enough when you were still behind the drive. But the moment you had stepped out of the cab, boom.

Hello, haunted house.

"Well, I'm coming in," You called out again, but if there was a ghost in there, it didn't seem very interested in stopping you. So you slowly inserted your key in the lock, and winced.

The door swung open with a low-pitched whine, and you almost felt like whining along with it. You pushed it open into the room—it was dark, and deathly quiet.

Everything felt more haunted with very progressing moment.

"Okay." You whispered to yourself, slowly peeking inside, and then pulling your suitcase in. "You got this."

If there was a presence in the apartment, it didn't give itself away. The furniture was all in place, and it looked very lived-in, contrary to what you had been expecting. You shut the door softly behind you, and let go of your suitcase's handle, wiping your hand at the side of your shorts.

Years of sleepovers of horror movie marathons hadn't helped your situation—despite being the one to laugh at jumpscares and promise yourself never to step into an old building alone, here you were. Cowering behind a three feet tall bag of plastic.

Right one week before your first day of college.

"Hello?" You called. "Anybody in there?"

As you waited for a reply, there was a groan.

Maybe I shouldn't have dropped my ice cream on that kid's head in sixth grade.

Well, something pretty similar to a groan. It was low, and very subdued, but something definitely out of place in a homey apartment like this.

Maybe that was a bucket of bullshit, because you were pretty sure apartments like these had a reputation. More so about boxed wine, initiation drinking games and getting piss-drunk despite it being a Monday the next day.

Or maybe it was just Seoul.

"Oh, to hell with this." You muttered fervently. "I should've just slept at the hotel."

As if in answer to your words, another similar groan echoed through the interior of the house.

Of course, there were also a load of stories about things leaning more towards the unholy, but you hadn't experienced much of that. Having a mother who kept you locked up and pure, and having bashed your head in an all-girls' school for fifteen years of your life had to had some side effects.

And ghosts. Of course, ghosts.

Mustering up what was left of your courage, you straightened and cleared your throat, trying to bring back some of that old student council authority. "Uh, Jimin, right? You there?"

You were pretty sure it was Jimin, and you didn't want to piss off anyone you were supposed to live with, but the answer was another aggressively loud sound.

This time, it was definitely a moan.

You held your breath, and moved forward slowly, towards the short hallway supposedly connecting the main living room to the smaller bedrooms. The only light was a dim white bulb, but the lack of illumination made the pale blue walls appear gray.

And that observation didn't do much to help your already stressed state.

Come on, maybe it's not ghosts. Maybe it's just...murder.

You needed another seven cups of caffeine.

"If you're doing this to freak me out, it's not funny." You said, trying to keep the shake out of your voice. Unsurprisingly, there was no reply.

As you glanced around, you noticed that both the rooms' doors were shut, and bit your lip. Maybe no one can hear me. But then, admitting that would be admitting to the fact that someone was there.

You came across the first door, and froze for a moment. "Um, I'm opening this?" Even to you, it sounded pathetic. Hi, I'm your new roommate and I'm trying to be threatening and it's not working. "The door?"

You felt like smacking your head against the door. Way to go, Y/N.

Your fingers rested against the cool metal of the handle. Pushing downwards, you were about to open the door when there was a heavy creak.

Your heart almost stopped in your chest. It was definitely the creak of a bed—maybe someone was getting off? But then, another moan emitted from the room, through the door, louder and more obvious than any others you'd heard.

Calm down.

It wasn't that easy.

You felt like running away, but, seeing as you didn't really have anywhere else to run to, your held your breath. And pushed the door open.

Yeah, there were definitely no spirits in the room.

What there was was a couple tangled up on the bed, the male specimen on top of the female, the two covered by only a (thin) sheet, and their wide eyes on you. The utter shock on their faces was probably as prominent as it was on yours.

The guy unfroze first.

Hastily pulling up his boxers, he got off the bed in a flustered manner, almost tripping as his legs got tangled in the sheets.

You finally got back your senses, slapping a hand over your virgin eyes and stumbling away from the door.

"Oh man, holy shit!" You yelled at the top of your voice, jumping away from the door and covering your eyes, but furtively peeking through your fingers. "Goddamnit, why can't I ever have a normal first day?"

"What the hell?" The guy screeched, trying in vain to grab the already claimed sheets to cover himself and his not-so-exposed ding-dong. "Who are you?"

The other girl on the bed spoke nothing, instead only covering herself hastily under the sheets and staring at you in wide-eyed shock. Probably traumatised, poor girl—much like you.

"Someone who didn't pay to live in a house like this!" You yelled back, refusing to take your hand off your eyes. "What the heck is wrong with you? Could've at least locked the door..."

"Wait, you're Y/N?" The boy questioned, eyebrows jumping, his voice coloring with surprise as he covered his bare chest. "Oh, hell no."

"Wait, why?" You removed your hand, confusion overpowering your intense disgust for a few moments. "Who the hell are you?"

"Yeah." He said wearily, almost groaning at your words. "About that..."

Your eyes narrowed.

"I'm Jimin...your new roommate."