The first thing you should know about me is that I have a very questionable dream.
I want to marry a Korean man.
Yes.
A Korean man.
Not just any Korean man, either. In my imagination, he is handsome, tall, calm, intelligent, and has the kind of smile that could make me forget whatever I was saying.
I know how it sounds.
My friends have told me enough times.
But honestly, can you blame me?
I've watched so many Korean dramas that sometimes I wonder if I was born in the wrong country.
My name is Floral Emma, I'm eighteen years old, and I had just started university.
I'm not exactly the most social person in the world. Around people I don't know, I'm usually quiet and reserved. But put me around my family or my small circle of friends, and suddenly I have an entirely different personality.
My friends call it having "two versions" of myself.
I call it being selective.
I also love music, especially BTS. I could spend hours listening to their songs, watching their videos, or scrolling through t****k when I was supposed to be studying.
And, of course, I loved daydreaming.
Sometimes I'd imagine what my future husband would look like.
Sometimes I imagined meeting him in Korea.
Sometimes I imagined him meeting my family.
And sometimes I imagined the most ridiculous romantic situations possible.
It was all just a dream.
At least, that's what I thought.
---
That evening, after finishing my assignments, I lay across my bed with my phone in my hand.
I opened t****k.
"Just five minutes," I whispered to myself.
That was a lie.
One video became five.
Five became twenty.
And before I realized it, almost an hour had passed.
I was about to put my phone away when a video caught my attention.
It was a Korean guy.
He looked young, but there was something mature about the way he carried himself. He was dressed neatly and speaking about something educational lessons he had learned after finishing university and beginning to understand the responsibilities of adulthood.
I watched the entire video.
Then I watched it again.
"Hmm..."
I clicked on his profile.
His name was Han Jun-ho.
His account had pictures of himself, basketball videos, swimming clips, random moments from his life, and several thoughtful videos where he talked about different subjects.
He seemed serious.
But not boring.
And, unfortunately for me...
He was extremely handsome.
I returned to the video and started reading the comments.
Without thinking too much about it, I typed:
"Why does this sound like advice from someone's strict older brother? 😂"
I laughed at my own comment.
Then I locked my phone.
"Okay, enough TikTok."
I placed my phone beside my pillow, pulled my blanket over myself, and closed my eyes.
I completely forgot about the comment.
I didn't expect anything to happen.
Why would I?
He probably had thousands of comments.
There was no reason for him to notice mine.
---
The next morning, my phone vibrated.
I ignored it.
It vibrated again.
I groaned and reached for it, still half-asleep.
Another notification appeared.
I unlocked my phone.
Then stopped.
My eyes widened.
I stared at the screen.
For a moment, I thought I was imagining it.
Then I read the notification again.
My heart suddenly started beating faster.
Han Jun-ho replied to your comment.
I sat upright in bed.
"What?"
I stared at the notification.
Then I tapped it.
The comment section opened.
And there it was.
His reply.
My fingers froze above the screen.
I swallowed.
I had no idea what he had written.
But whatever it was...
I knew one thing.
Han Jun ho had actually replied to me.