Monday morning I woke up to a text that made me smile before I was even fully conscious.
Bok-Jin: Good morning, girlfriend. Coffee before your 9 AM class?
Three days of being official and the word still gave me a ridiculous thrill.
Me: Can't, sorry. Early library shift. Rain check for lunch?
Bok-Jin: It's a date. Good luck with work.
I rolled out of bed, careful not to wake Min-Ji who was sprawled across her mattress like she'd been dropped from a height. The apartment was quiet—Yoo-Na had already left for her 8 AM business ethics class.
In the bathroom mirror, I looked... different. Not physically, but there was something lighter about my expression. Like I'd been carrying weight I hadn't noticed until it was gone.
My phone buzzed again.
Bok-Jin: Also, about Friday—the networking thing is business casual. You'll be fine. These people are boring but harmless.
I typed back: Define "business casual" for a scholarship student whose nicest outfit is jeans without holes.
His response came immediately: Yoo-Na's already texted me that she's taking you shopping Wednesday. Apparently this was decided without consulting either of us.
I laughed out loud. Of course she was.
Constitutional Law II was intense.
Professor Kwon was dissecting a recent Constitutional Court decision with surgical precision, and I was trying to keep up with notes when she called on me.
"Han Ji-Mang. The petitioner's argument regarding Article 10—what's the fundamental flaw?"
I thought fast. "They're conflating dignity with autonomy. Article 10 protects human dignity, but that doesn't automatically grant unlimited personal autonomy. Individual rights have to be balanced against public welfare."
"Good. And the counter-argument?"
"That the state's definition of 'public welfare' is often paternalistic and used to justify restrictions that actually undermine dignity rather than protect it."
Professor Kwon's eyes gleamed. "Exactly. This tension—who decides what dignity means—is at the heart of constitutional law."
After class, Seung-Ho caught up with me in the hallway.
"Ji-Mang."
I turned, wary. "Hey."
"The paper's due Friday. Just wanted to say—thanks. For the advice last week. I restructured the whole argument."
Was Seung-Ho... thanking me?
"Yeah, no problem."
He hesitated. "Your paper. The environmental law one. It's good. Really good."
I blinked. "Thanks."
"Professor Kwon's going to love it. She's big on that public interest angle." He adjusted his bag. "Anyway. See you Wednesday."
He left before I could respond.
What the hell was happening? Character development? From Seung-Ho?
Lunch with Bok-Jin was at our usual kimbap place—cheap, fast, and the owner made the best kimchi I'd ever tasted.
"You're smiling," he said as I slid into the seat across from him. "Good morning?"
"Weird morning. Seung-Ho complimented my paper."
His eyebrows shot up. "The same Seung-Ho who's been your nemesis since freshman year?"
"That's the one."
"Character development. I'm shocked." He pushed a plate toward me. "I ordered for you. The tuna one."
My heart did that stupid flutter thing. He remembered.
"So," I said, picking up my chopsticks, "tell me about Friday. What exactly am I walking into?"
He grimaced. "Quarterly networking event for young professionals in the Hansung network. Basically twenty-somethings whose parents own companies, drinking wine and pretending to understand market trends."
"Sounds delightful."
"It's painfully boring. But it's expected—I'm supposed to 'build connections' and 'represent the family.'" He made air quotes. "Normally I go, shake hands, leave after an hour."
"And now you're bringing your girlfriend."
"Now I'm bringing my very smart, very beautiful girlfriend who's going to impress everyone without even trying." He said it like it was just fact.
"Bok-Jin—"
"I mean it. You can discuss constitutional law with corporate lawyers and debate economic theory with finance bros. You'll be fine."
"What if I say something wrong?"
"Then you say something wrong. These people aren't judging you—they're too busy trying to impress each other." He reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "And I'll be right there. If you want to leave early, we leave."
I took a breath. "Okay. I can do this."
"You definitely can. Plus, Yoo-Na's dinner after will be more fun."
"Is your family going to be there?"
His expression shifted. "My father might show up for thirty minutes, make some remarks, then leave. My mother never comes—she thinks these events are beneath her."
"And if your father's there?"
"You be yourself. If he wants to meet you, we'll deal with it. But honestly, he'll probably ignore everyone under thirty." His jaw tightened. "He's good at that."
I heard the edge in his voice and changed the subject. "What should I talk about?"
"Themselves, mostly. People love talking about their work. And if someone's boring, find an excuse to get more wine."
"Very strategic."
"I've been going to these things since I was sixteen. I've learned survival tactics."
Tuesday LEET prep kicked my ass.
Speed drills—twenty logic games, forty-five minutes. I finished eighteen out of twenty, got sixteen right.
"You're too careful," Su-Jin said, checking my work. "You second-guess yourself."
"I know, I just—"
"Your first instinct is usually right. Stop overthinking."
Professor Jung stopped at my desk. "Sixteen out of eighteen is good accuracy. But you need to finish all twenty. What's slowing you down?"
"I re-check my deductions. Make sure the logic holds."
"Which is smart in real life but deadly on a timed test. This week, do five games every day. Set a timer. Don't let yourself double-check. See what happens."
After class, the study group headed to convenience store ramyeon. I was stirring my noodles when my phone buzzed.
Bok-Jin: How was LEET?
Me: Brutal but productive. Home soon.
Bok-Jin: Want to call later?
I smiled at my phone. The study group immediately noticed.
"Boyfriend?" Min-Seo asked, grinning.
"Maybe."
"It's definitely boyfriend," Su-Jin said. "She's got the look."
"What look?"
"The 'I'm texting someone cute' look. Very distinctive."
I rolled my eyes but didn't deny it. "His name is Bok-Jin. We've been dating for... three days. Officially."
"Three days!" Tae-Min gasped dramatically. "Practically married."
"Shut up."
We finished our ramyeon laughing, and on the walk home I called Bok-Jin.
"Hey," he answered immediately. "How bad was it?"
"Eighteen out of twenty, but I ran out of time."
"That's still really good."
"Professor Jung says I need to trust myself more."
"She's not wrong. You do overthink."
"Rude but accurate."
We talked for twenty minutes about nothing and everything—the kind of conversation that didn't have a point except to hear each other's voices.
When I got home, Min-Ji opened the door before I could get my key out.
"You're glowing."
"I'm not glowing."
"You are absolutely glowing. It's disgusting. I love it."
Wednesday afternoon, Yoo-Na picked me up in her sleek black sedan.
"We're going to Gangnam," she announced.
"Yoo-Na, I can't afford Gangnam."
"Good thing you're not paying. This is my treat for helping me pass Corporate Finance. Now stop being stubborn and accept a gift."
Gangnam was overwhelming—glass storefronts, designer brands, people who looked like they'd walked off magazine covers. Yoo-Na pulled me into a boutique that looked too expensive to breathe in.
"Business casual," she told the sales associate. "Elegant but not too formal. Networking event."
Twenty minutes later I was in a dressing room surrounded by options.
"Try the navy dress first," Yoo-Na called.
I pulled it on. Sleeveless, knee-length, structured fabric that held its shape perfectly. I looked... professional. Put-together.
"Let me see."
I stepped out. Her face lit up.
"Perfect. That's the one."
"Really?"
"It's elegant without trying too hard. You look confident." She handed me heels—black, simple, comfortable-looking. "Try these."
I put them on. In the mirror, I looked like someone who belonged at a networking event. Someone who could stand next to Bok-Jin and not look out of place.
"Yoo-Na—"
"Don't argue. This is happening." She turned to the associate. "We'll take the dress, the shoes, and that blazer." She pointed at a cream-colored blazer I'd tried earlier. "She'll need it for interviews."
At the register, I tried not to look at the total.
"Thank you," I said quietly as we left. "Really."
"You're my friend. This is what friends do." She linked her arm through mine. "Now let's get coffee. I want to hear about you and Bok-Jin."
Thursday passed in a blur—classes, library shift, LEET practice games (finished all five but got two wrong), dinner with roommates, more studying.
That night at 11:30, I couldn't sleep.
Me: You awake?
Bok-Jin: Yeah. Can't sleep?
Me: Nervous about tomorrow.
My phone rang immediately.
"Hey," I answered.
"Talk to me. What are you nervous about?"
I stared at my ceiling. "What if I say something stupid? What if people ask about my background? What if your father's there and—"
"Ji-Mang. Stop."
I stopped.
"First, you're incapable of saying something stupid. Second, if anyone asks, you tell them you're a law student at SNU passionate about environmental policy. Third, if my father's there—which he probably won't be—you don't have to impress him. Just be yourself."
"Easy for you to say."
"I know it's not easy. But I'll be there. And if you want to leave at any point, we leave. No questions."
I took a breath. "Okay."
"You're going to be amazing. And tomorrow night, after both events, we'll go somewhere quiet and you can tell me how you charmed everyone."
"Confident."
"In you? Always."
We stayed on the phone for another hour until my eyelids got heavy.
"Get some sleep," he said softly. "Big day tomorrow."
"Goodnight, boyfriend."
"Goodnight, girlfriend."
Friday morning I woke up to texts from everyone.
Bok-Jin: Today's the day. You've got this. ❤️
Min-Ji: You're going to kill it. We're all so proud of you.
Yoo-Na: Hair down, loose waves. Minimal jewelry. Elegant, not overdressed.
Constitutional Law dragged. I couldn't focus on judicial review when all I could think about was the ticking clock.
At noon I went home and showered. Did my makeup carefully—not too much, just polished. Left my hair down in waves. Put on the navy dress and heels.
Stared at myself in the mirror.
I looked good. Confident. Like someone who belonged.
"Holy shit," Min-Ji said from my doorway.
I turned.
"You look incredible. Bok-Jin's going to lose his mind."
"It's just a dress."
"It's not just a dress. You look like you could run a Fortune 500 company." She grinned. "Go show those rich people what a scholarship student can do."
At 4:45, my phone buzzed.
Bok-Jin: I'm outside.
I grabbed my purse—borrowed from Yoo-Na—and headed downstairs.
Bok-Jin was leaning against his car in a dark suit that made him unfairly handsome. When he saw me, his expression shifted into something soft and amazed.
"Hi," I said, suddenly shy.
"Hi." He straightened. "You look..."
"Okay?"
"Stunning. You look stunning."
"Yoo-Na helped."
"Remind me to thank her." He opened the car door. "Ready?"
I slid into the passenger seat. "As ready as I'll ever be."
He got in, started the car, then reached over and took my hand.
"You're going to be perfect," he said.
I squeezed back. "Let's do this."