The Morning After

That's the last thing I remember.

When I wake up in my bed at Hajun's place the next morning, I feel extremely cheerful. I went drinking during the week without fighting about it with my boss, I had a fun evening with friends, and I am not hungover.

Sure, I don't recall the last couple hours of the night that precisely, but that's just part of being drunk. If something truly important had happened, I'm convinced I would have remembered.

As I'm making my tea downstairs, I get a sudden urge to use the bathroom. Once I'm done there, I wash my hands and look in the mirror attached above the sink, still whistling.

Except that what I see immediately makes me stop dead in my tracks.

I gasp at myself.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

This can't be happening.

My hair is pink. Bright pink.

Granted, it's not all of the hair. Only some strands are dyed in the most distasteful way possible. Whoever died my hair did not pay attention at all, making the pink colour much more concentrated in some places than in others.

Fifty shades of pink.

Oh, God. I really feel like throwing up, and it's not because of the alcohol.

My hair looks... ugly. No, that's not insulting enough. Horrendous, that's what Eun would say.

Eun! She's the one who dyed my hair! Suddenly, it all comes flashing back on me. Me being angry at a bossy Hajun and convincing Eun to dye my hair as a revenge plan.

Oh no. I facepalm. Once again, I have no one to blame for this other than myself. Why do I always get myself into these hopeless situations?

Eun and Chan brought me back to her apartment, and that's when my best friend decided to dye my hair with hair dye she found at the convenience store.

Sighing, I ruffle the new pinkness that is my hair. This is a mess. It looks horrible, but fixing it would cost even more money, right? And perhaps it's not even that noticeable. The light in this bathroom is just too bright. Yes, that must be it. I might be exaggerating.

At this moment, Hajun's deep morning voice -which I'm a lot more attracted to than I should be- appears. "Rose? Did you read the e-mail Sejin-hyung just sent about the Melon Awards? I can't give you off even though it's Christmas and I promised you. Apparently, they need you."

Do they really? Why do they keep acting as they need me all the time when they survived just fine before I joined the company? Eun would analyze this as a tactic for making me feel liable towards them, and she's right. Because other employees in the company pretend like they always need me, I'm starting to think they really do, and I feel guilty every time I even consider taking a moment for myself.

It's so damn easy to get sucked into that mindset.

However, this is not the problem at hand right now. If Hajun discovers my new, embarrassing hair colour, I'm done for.

So the mission now is to hide it from him, somehow.

What if I tie my hair into a ponytail? I try it and make a horrified gasp once I see the result. The ponytail worsens the situation. Now the back of my head has become a concentration of bubble gum pink.

His footsteps stop in the kitchen. "Huh? Where are you? I just heard you making tea."

I need to save some time to construct a plan.

"I'm in the bathroom, oppa!" I shout out. "Listen, can we talk later? I'm not feeling that well."

"Oh, okay." His footsteps are approaching the bathroom door, dangerously close now. "Is everything alright?"

What is he doing? Can't he just leave me alone for once in his life?

"Yes," I press out. "Probably just feeling a little bit sick because of the freezing weather these days."

"I told you to wear thicker coats." His tongue clicks annoyedly. "You can't afford to get sick, Rose-ah. We have too much going on these next few weeks."

"Yes, I know," I respond, and then, God bless, he finally leaves.

Or not.

After a couple of steps, his movements stop once again. "By the way, Rose-ah?"

"Yes?", I ask nervously. It's never a reassuring sign when he starts his sentences with "by the way".

"What did you buy yesterday night at the grocery store?"

Right. I completely blanked out on the fact that I lied to him about that.

If I could slap my past self, I would. I shouldn't be allowed in the adult world, honestly. And why doesn't anyone stop me when I make dumb decisions?

"Oh," I laugh politely, "nothing. I ended up just wandering around."

"Wandering around, huh?" Hajun's voice is dangerously low now as comes back closer again. "Are you're certain that's all you did?"

I gulp. "Yes. A hundred percent certain."

"Mmh. Okay." It sounds like the conversation is over as there's a short, tense pause, but then he says out of the blue: "Did you go out yesterday?"

"No, I did not," I immediately respond, and then I quietly yelp in despair as I realize what I just did.

I reacted way too rapidly. I just sold myself out.

Stupid, stupid Rose.

"Really? Because you just sounded a little bit defensive." His voice is blatantly provocative now.

"You must have misheard," I explain. "I'm completely fine."

"So you're not in there feeling unwell because you drank too much, right?"

"Nope. Not at all." Hopefully, I sound more confident than I feel.

Silence.

"Alright. Let's have breakfast together then once you feel better." He says fake-cheerfully.

I go rigid. "W-what?"

Hajun and I never have breakfast together. Most of the time, we don't even leave for work together, as he goes earlier than me to practice for performances.

"There's a lot to discuss workwise, and if we do it during breakfast, we'll save time."

No, no, no. This is all wrong. I can't have breakfast with Hajun since I haven't figured out a way to hide my dyed hair yet.

"But we never have breakfast together," I retort hesitantly. I'm running out of arguments and time. My friends, I am doomed.

"There's a first time for everything," he says, and I can practically hear his smug grin. "See you in a bit, Rose."

"Mmh," I muffle out, and, as soon as he's walked away back into the kitchen, I bang my head against the wall.

Shit. An Hajun has got me trapped.

Feverishly, I ponder whether or not I could get one of my hoodies from upstairs and have breakfast with a hood on.

However, that only delays the actual problem and doesn't solve it, since I'm certainly not going to walk around with a hood at the office. It's unprofessional.

I've just got to accept it: the end is near.

One last time, I look at myself in the mirror.

"You don't look horrible, Rose," I encourage myself in the mirror. "Yes, you've looked better, but you've also looked much worse, like during your twelve-year-old awkward phase. You're still beautiful, and you can face Hajun."

Sadly, words are only words and don't influence reality the tiniest bit.

Gulping, I open the bathroom door and make my way towards the kitchen.

Time to face the devil.