Hye-jin rushed around the house like her hair was on fire. Well...that wasn't a far-off comparison. She did set her hair on fire. More than once. It's a wonder she lived to be a freshman in university. Then again, if she didn't make it there in time, she might cease to be one already.

She grabbed her bag from the couch and skipped towards the kitchen. Her dad sat at the head of the table, sipping coffee from a mug with faded face of some distant family friend. It must have been a giveaway from a wedding or something. A newspper crinkled as her father turned the page.

"You know there's already the same version on the screen," her mother set down a plate of jjajangmyeon on the table. It didn't matter what time of the day it was; her mother always makes it. "Is the tablet charged?"

Her father grunted and turned another page. It took Hye-jin to realize the text had been in Hangul. It might be because they're living in a predominantly Korean part of the country. Part of the allure was that this place supposed to be a metropolis where every nationality and ethnicity could survive. Together.

A load of bull, probably, but it was what it was. With better jobs and more accessible privileges, Whiteridge has become the most popular city to migrate to in the latest decade, and Hye-jin's family had managed to enter the country Whiteridge belonged to before the flocks came in droves. The stories they told, back when the country was nothing but a lump of green and brown unlike the sprawling futuristic cities it boasted now, had fascinated her to no end.

"Eomma," Hye-jin caught her mother's arm as the latter rounded the table after propping the last of the bowls of rice on the table. "He's Appa. There's no way he would know if the tablet's charged."

Her mother clicked her tongue and gripped Hye-jin's shoulders. "What would we do without such a smart daughter?" she sank into the chair next to Hye-jin and pushed a bowl towards her. "Appa should be proud his only daughter is going to university already."

The newspaper folded and her father's face inched into view. "Aigoo, she got in, but her choice of a degree..." he clicked his tongue. "Blood still hasn't dried on her head."

Ouch. Hye-jin hid her wince by shoving a clump of noodles into her mouth. The sticky sweet texture of the noodles coated her tongue. Her mother makes the best jjajangmyeon after all. Her mother, however, was not ready to let it go. "Yeobo," she waved a hand towards her husband. "This isn't Joseon anymore. Our daughter can choose to do what she wants."

As a response, her father took his own metal chopsticks and started eating. Hye-jin didn't bother, though. Ever since high school senior year, when she became fascinated with game development and told her parents that's what she's going to become, she and her father hadn't really seen eye to eye. He'd rather her become a doctor or a lawyer. Or something that wasn't a programmer.

Hye-jin pursed her lips and finished her food. One glance at her watch made her shoot up. "Omo, I'm late," she grabbed her bag from the floor and dashed towards the door. It's at least two hours by public bus and an hour and a half by train, and she still had to walk, drop her things in her dorm room, and find her classroom. Anette and Seon-yi were going to never let it go if she was late again. Those two were probably taking bets.

Her mother tramped after her and opened the door and gates for her. "Be sure to call on the weekend," she said before rattling off a bunch of other reminders into Hye-jin's ear. Things like, don't skip meals, be nice to everyone, always lock your door in the night, have cash. Finally, she made it out to the street without her ears falling off. She gave her mother a set of vigorous nods and waved. "I won't, Eomma. Yes, Eomma. I won't forget it, Eomma," she matched the pace of her mother's sentiments. And when her mother paused to catch her breath, Hye-jin butted in.

"Eomma, don't forget to take your medicine. Don't drink too much soju. Get along with Appa. Rest if you feel tired. Sleep when you're sleepy," Hye-jin fired before her mother realized she had been the one being lectured on. "Visit the doctor often and don't be difficult in consultations. Call me if anything happens. Okay?"

Her mother nodded and shut the gate into Hye-jin's face. "Arasseo, arasseo," she nodded but she didn't really mean it—just to get Hye-jin to stop talking. She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Get out of here, already. You're late."

Hye-jin could only oblige. When she got to the station, the train leaving was packed enough for her to have her face inches from the glass windows of the door as she boarded. She pressed a hand against the smooth surface to steady herself and made a mental note. Trains leaving at the last minute from her province were filled to the brim at this hour. Either she get to the station earlier, or she find another mode of transportation. The public buses weren't reliable to show up on time either.

When someone got out in the next station, Hye-jin lurched forward and claimed the seat before it got taken. Call her selfish or something else, she wanted that seat. She tucked her humongous bag over her lap and rested her head against it. She caught up on some sleep in the train car, letting the cool conditioning kiss her scalp. It would help in getting rid of the dampness in her hair. When she woke up, the people had trickled away, reducing the number of passengers to a considerable number for everyone to have seats.

After what seemed like ages, the train stopped at the station where she's supposed to get off. Soon, she tore through the blinking subway lights and unmopped ceramic tiles. She ascended and the city of Whiteridge burst out in morning color. As the country's capital, it boasted the most activity, evidenced by the cloud of various noises and the volume of people zipping in and out of her periphery. She joined the flow of people and eventually made it to campus.

The spread of land which she now trudged past was the typical university layout one would see printed in brochures. Tall buildings filled with nothing but classrooms, shorter ones for...other stuff. Some have names of dead people. Others were simply "Subject + Building". Hye-jin's upcoming class was in the Humanities and Sciences Building. Nothing fancy.

As planned, she dropped her things into her dorm room. Her roommates' things were already in their designated corners and bunks. Hye-jin just happened to forget a few things so that her bag was still bulky. She grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen from one of the compartments, stuck both into her pocket, and headed out. As soon as she was sure no one would ransack their room while she's gone, she shut the door and speed-walked towards her first class of the day.

Anette's eyes lit up when she spotted Hye-jin coming into a small classroom with about thirty chairs. "Jenny!" she waved so frantically her fingers started blurring together. "How was your weekend?"

Hye-jin dropped into a seat behind her blond friend and leaned back. "Fine," she said. "Have you been here long?"

The sound of a compact mirror slamming shut caught Hye-jin's attention. Seon-yi's face was dolled up as ever. Were those...sequins? On her eyelids? Wouldn't that hurt? "We've started taking root in the floor," she replied, though her matte-painted lips curved into a small smile. "Bad traffic?"

What else could be? Oh, right. Hye-jin staying up late last night hammering away at a limited time quest and forgetting the time and what's going to happen today. "Yeah," she bobbed her head and jerked her chin at the professor's table. It was still empty. "You think the prof will show up?"

Seon-yi raised a manicured eyebrow. "Wanna bet on it?" she said. "I already won five bucks."

Anette, bless her heart for still believing Hye-jin could make it anywhere without being late, wrinkled her nose. "Stop scamming people, Sunny," she said. "You have enough."

"Hmm," was all Seon-yi said. "What are you going to do after classes?"

An image of her curled up in front of a screen—fingers clacking at keys and eyes darting around, never to stay in one place—popped into her head. There wasn't going to be a lot of homework yet, so she should make the most of it.

Anette caught Hye-jin's gaze and clapped her hands. "I know!" she said. "Let's join an extracurricular club! I hear a lot are looking for freshmen...well, freshpeople."

Hye-jin's hope of spending the rest of the night gaming was dashed. Oh, well. It's been a while since she and her friends have hung out. This was the last time she'd agree to such a pointless endeavor, though.

"Tell me again why I'm here, getting abused by your brush?" Hye-jin slapped her friend's hand coming towards her cheek with yet another dab of powdered blush. Any more and she would look like someone slapped her.

Anette had the nerve to look scandalized. "It's a must! Those guys at the programming club should be enamored by us!"

"It's a programming club, Anette," Hye-jin leveled her gaze at her friend. "The only thing they're going to be enamored with are computers and sexy in-game characters."

"Listen to the woman, Anie," Seon-Yi, who had draped herself over the bed and found a Chic Girl magazine, said. She flipped through the crinkly pages, the sound annoying the hell out of Hye-jin. "We're not going to a club and we can't since we're still technically minors."

Anette pouted but withdrew her brush attack. "Fine," she said. "Let me just do your mascara to make your eyes pop."

Hye-jin groaned. "My eyes are fine," she said. "Let's just go. I'm dying to get my hands on some games inside the campus. My laptop is strictly off-limits and my desktop is back home."

Who said going to a dorm inside the campus during the current term was a good idea? Even though she ended up on the same floor as her friends, Anette and Seon-Yi, she still missed her room in the province. Sadly, it'd take at least two hours by public bus to step foot in the house she grew up in. She shouldn't have dreamed of going to Whiteridge City. It wasn't as cracked up as she thought it to be.

Before she could get out of her chair, though, Anette whipped out her mascara bottle and popped the lid. "Just let me do your eyes, please?" she bobbed up and down in solicitation. "I promise I'd make you really pretty! Hotter than the chicks the programming club is rumored to have."

Hye-jin sighed. When Anette was on to something, there was nothing to stop her. "Fine," she relented. "But you better treat me to a bottle of banana milk for a whole week. Got it?"

Anette blubbered a ton of agreeing sentiments. She's going to forget it the next day. and Hye-jin wasn't the type to insist on her end of the bargain anyway.

A few more minutes later, three girls strode out of their dormitory hall dressed in the most ridiculous clothes Hye-jin had ever seen inside the campus. She opted for a comfortable, baggy sweatpants with a matching hoodie but Seon-Yi, their resident fashionista, insisted they wear figure-cutting sets. Even if she didn't seem to adhere to Anette's goal in fishing for guys, her only goal in life was to dress Hye-jin up in stuff she's too scared to wear herself.

A doll. That's how Seon-Yi treated Hye-jin.

It's not like Hye-jin hated it. At least she got free shopping trips and the latest clothes to go around. Free stuff was always good.

When they got to the dingy basement and slid the door to the programming club, the familiar scent of stale coffee and dried sweat filled her nose. The air was humid, as if the air conditioning unit stopped working ages ago. Clacking noises, muttered curses, and feet stomping against the dusty carpet covering the floor filled the space. The only source of light in the whole room were the bright screens. Not a single one was unoccupied.

"How many?" a girl with pixie hair and an amount of highlights Anette would have killed to have on her own scalp held out a wad of flyers to us.

"Uh, three?" Anette said, already looking like she regretted even dressing up for this dingy cave.

The pixie-haired girl shoved three pages into Anette's face. "Sit there, noobs," she pointed towards an empty bench ripped out of the cashier waiting area. While not appreciating being called a noob she could probably beat ninety percent of the people here), Hye-jin decided to avoid causing a skirmish and just sit down.

Minutes passed that way after that. Nobody came up to talk to them, which bummed even Seon-Yi, who started playing on her phone and chatting with her high school friends. At some point, another boy arrived and sat beside her. She caught a whiff of spent men's perfume—the kind she absolutely abhorred.

Then, after a few more minutes stretching into hours, the door opened once more and in strode a scrawny guy who looked like a lost kid in a mall than a freshman in university. Though, if Hye-jin was to be asked, there wasn't really any difference between the two.

The guy, dressed in plaid flannel over a dark shirt complete with a pair of light denim jeans and worn sneakers, took a flier from Pixie Girl before wandering towards the bench. He was no doubt pointed to sit here like Hye-jin and the perfume guy were.

"Hi, mind if I sit?" Lost Kid said.