Main Characters in the Story:

*Kim So Hyun as "Athena" Myung-hee Park

*Tom Hiddleston as Himself

Minor Character in the Story:

*Susannah Fieldings as Herself

Chapter IX: I am not Susannah.

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I check my teeth in the mirror to make sure I got everything. It seems I did, so I finish brushing whatever might not have been covered and rinse off everything. I check my teeth my now-white teeth. I set the brush down on the edge of the sink and walk out of the bathroom, not even bothering to turn off the lights.

I walk out into the hallway and squint into the dark. It has to be in the middle of the night; its pitch black in here with only a steam of white moonlight shining in through the window. I decided to risk it and head for the stairs when I hear someone running up the steps. I freeze where I am, heart pounding in my chest. I search the space around me, looking for a hint that someone is up here with me.

Suddenly, I'm slammed against the cold wall, arms pinned above my head by a hand with long, strong, slender fingers. In a split second, a pair of lips are on mind, forcing my own open and closed. The front of his body pressed against mine, and they breathe heavily as their… his, now that I feel a certain body part, crotch rubs and grinds against the inside of my thigh. I can feel my heart in my throat. I'm not even fighting him; it's as if I… know him.

A warm, wet tongue slips into my mouth effortlessly and glides and moves with my own. I moan into the kiss, enjoying every feeling and taste that I get. When he pulls away to catch a breath, I whisper a name.

"Tom."

"Mm," he says, ghosting his over my swollen, wanting lips. "I love it when you say my name. Say it again."

I feel myself blush slightly, biting my lower lip. "Tom." I say, but there's now something different about my voice. It's a lot smoother, more mature than mine, and… is that an accent?"

"Nnh. You're killing me, Susannah."

Excuse me?! I think. I look down at my body. The hair that flows over my shoulder and down to my chest is black and luscious. My waist is more of an hour glass shape, and my arms are a bit thinner than usual. And my skin is slightly lighter than mine. I'm… I'm…

"Susannah?" Tom asks me concerned. "Are you alright?"

I nod my head and let out a short breath. "Yes. I'm fine."

He proceeds to lift my dress (that I didn't even know I was wearing) up to my waist and knead the thickness that is my hips. He trails down the hollow of my neck and bits down on the skin.

I gasp at the sensation and closed my eyes.

"Susannah." He whispers.

Just then, I feel his fingers press against my center, and…

I wake up with a jolt, my chest heaving with the intensity of my dream. I stare at my ceiling, pulling the rest of my back into back. Tom saying Susannah's name rings in my ears. I take a deep, slow breaths, calming myself down. I brush my hair bangs with my palm then placed to my forehead, then pull it away to look at it. It's covered in sweat, and I wipe it on the bed next to me.

I stand up and walk out of my bedroom to the bathroom. I turn on the light and lean over the sink. I turn the faucet and run the water until its cold. I splash it onto my face, washing off the salty sweat and cooling the skin underneath. My cheeks are burning, so I hold a handful of water to my cheeks, hoping to cool them down.

I move up more and study the image I find staring back at me. I'm back to being an Asian girl. The hair is not black. The face is still oval-shaped, soft and supple. My skin is still porcelain. My waist is still straight like an adolescent. I am still Athena. I am still Myung-hee. I'm still the girl Tom wasn't being happy with in my dream. I'm still the girl that can't move to England with Tom. I'm still the girl no one knows and no one can see with Tom. I am not Susannah. I can't please Tom completely. Tom will never moan my name. After seeing Susannah, he won't be ever to take the next step with me, no matter how old I am. I will never be as good as Susannah Fielding.

Standing up straight to take once last look at myself, I collapse to the cold tile floor. My eyes squeeze shut, tears spilling out of them and pouring down my cheeks. I sob silently, dragging my nails down my skin, which now feels claustrophobic-tight. A loud, piercing scream builds up in my throat, but I can't let it out. I can't wake my parents. It will start a whole lot of hell for me. My thoughts scramble and circle around the one thought tearing me apart: I'm not Susannah.

I'm not Susannah.

Ani-yo… {No…} More important: Tom's better off with Susannah.