Your tendons pop as you lift Krystal's last box of clothing onto your knees. You manage to get a shoulder underneath. Arms trembling, you heave the box above your head.

"Yes!" you triumphantly shout.

Riiiiiiiiiip!

You tentatively look up at the underside of the box. A hairline crack runs through the surface, widening by the second.

Uh oh.

The box splits in half. A deluge of clothes rains down and buries you.

"Oh my God! Amber! Are you okay?" Krystal's voice is strangely muffled. A hand snakes through the pile and grasps a tuft of your hair.

"Yeowch! Let go of me!" you howl as she pulls.

"Ah, sorry! Just trying to help."

She lets go and you claw your way out of the mountain of clothes. But were these clothes? You hold a piece up to the light. It looks like an oddly shaped handkerchief with about a tenth of the material. And extremely lacy around the edges.

Krystal whacks your sore head.

"Ewww what the hell Amber! Why are you looking at my lingerie?" she shrieks, snatching the garment from your hands.

"Shoot, I'm sorry! I had no idea!" You immediately avert your gaze, heat blooming all over your cheeks.

Krystal sniffs suspiciously at you and starts picking up her underwear. You try to move out of the way without stepping on any of her clothes.

"Yo!"

You freeze with one foot in the air.

"Get your shoe off that!" Krystal tugs an exceptionally frilly piece out from under your other foot. "This is my favorite piece from Eres. But now it's got your footprint on it."

You duck your head contritely, feeling extremely self conscious. Krystal huffs and hastily gathers the rest of her scattered lingerie. She scooches into your room. You lean forward and stick your head in. Every corner is occupied, stacked to the ceiling with boxes. It's a good thing that your roommate is currently abroad because not even a skinny ghost can fit. Krystal is squeezed against the wall trying to stuff her lingerie into a box brimming with red soled heels. After a few tries, she gives up and piles all her underwear on top. You furtively look around the hallway, but the coast is clear.

In hindsight, getting Krystal's belongings out of Kai's dorm was the easy part. Krystal texted his housekeeper and found out that Kai went out for a drive. Apparently he always did that when he was mad. You and Krystal then spent the entire afternoon packing up. The hard part was moving the boxes to your dorm, a full mile away on the South Campus. Krystal wanted to call professional movers, but you convinced her that booking them and having them come would take longer than doing it yourselves. Not to mention more expensive. So, you went and grabbed your long board and rolled the boxes down to your room.

"There! All done." Krystal beams proudly at you. "I've never done this much work in my life. We should celebrate!"

You grin at her simple satisfaction. But then as you admire your full room you realize there's nowhere to sleep.

"Er, Krystal? Great job and all, but we may need to rearrange some of this," you start, but she shushes you and pulls out her phone. She dials a number and waits.

"Hi, is there anything for tonight?" She taps her foot impatiently. "What!" She looks scandalized. "Are you sure? Let me speak to your manager." She scowls at your ceiling. "Hi, yes, this is Krystal. Krystal Jung. I was told there's nothing available but that can't be true." She rolls her eyes at you, but then perks up. "Ah, you do? That's perfect! We'll take it." She snaps her phone shut. "I got us a room at the Mandarin. We can stay there until the school gives me a dorm. They're sending a car for us right now."

Your jaw drops.

"I can't afford that dude!"

Krystal just airily waves her hand.

"It's free. I used my points. Grab some clothes and let's go."

She takes a handful of lingerie and yanks a few dresses out of another box, shoving them into her large handbag. You contemplate climbing over her luggage to get to your closet but give up that idea. Re-wearing your clothes isn't the worst thing in the world. Hopefully you won't stink. You gesture for her to get out of the room first. She has to squeeze past you to do so, her warm body momentarily flush against yours. For some reason your heart thuds loudly. You try to ignore it as you carefully lock the door. It's dark already outside. The courtyard clock says it's almost nine. Was it only yesterday night that you first cuddled with her?

"They said the car should be here soon—there!"

A huge shiny black SUV pulls up. The driver's door opens and a smartly dressed man in a tweed coat pops out. He opens the passenger's door and inclines his head.

"Miss Jung?"

"Yes," Krystal replies, stepping forward.

He eyes her large bag and bows deeply. She takes his proffered hand and climbs up into the car. You try to get in too, but the driver steps in front of you and shuts the door in your face. He elbows you out of the way as he scrambles back into the driver's seat and deliberately closes his door.

"Uh, I'm with her," you squeak, but that comes out more like a question rather than a statement. The car rumbles to life. "Yo!" You anxiously rap on his window and try to catch the driver's eye but the windows are so blacked out all you see is your reflection. The car starts moving and you have to jog beside it to keep up.

"Krystal!" you bellow, pounding on her window, "Krystal! Help me!"

The car screeches to a halt and you trip and slam your forehead into the sideview mirror. The driver's door flies open and the man jumps out with a curse. He hurriedly jumps over your prone body and examines the mirror. You can only gape as he carefully wipes the mirror. and readjusts it. Finally, with the loudest sigh you've ever heard, he looks down and surveys you. The way he looks at you involuntarily makes you look at yourself, at your holey pants and ragged shirt. There is a stark contrast between you and the pristine exquisiteness of the car.

The passenger window slowly rolls down.

"Amber, hurry up," Krystal faintly commands from inside.

You can see a muscle jumping in the man's jaw, but he stoops to offer you a hand. You ignore it as you agonizingly pick yourself up. He looks offended as he withdraws his hand and resentfully opens the passenger door. You have a sudden stroke of inspiration.

"Looks like my head didn't damage your mirror," you say, "here, let me clean it for you." And you wipe your dusty hands all over the glass.

The man's face turns white. You give him a devilish smile. He glares at you, the white quickly replaced with puce. You coolly stare back. You're not afraid of him. Maybe it's because Krystal is paying him, but the feeling that you control him lends you power.

Suddenly you hate yourself. Did money make you better than him? A feeling of shame floods your body. You quickly turn away and climb into the car.

Behind you, he spits just where your feet were.

"Jeez, what took you so long?" Krystal pouts, staring some photo app on her phone.

You don't answer. She looks up and takes in your tattered appearance. "Uh, what happened?"

"Don't worry about it." You pointedly gaze out the window.

An awkward silence.

"Well, we'll be there in no time. The hotel's really close by," she randomly says.

You take the bait.

"So we could've walked there?"

"Walk?" She looks at you like you sprouted another head. "Walk in the dark?"

"I thought you walked at night, you know, to parties and stuff."

"Yeah but that's in school. Where it's safe."

Okay, maybe she had a point, being a woman and all. Out of the corner of your eye you see her observing you, surreptitiously looking at your torn pants. But she doesn't say anything and you don't either.

A few minutes later, the car halts in front of the most glamorous and architecturally imposing building you've ever seen. It is shaped like a giant castle surrounded by a moat. Pendants fly from each turret and ivy coats its walls. Warm light glows in the hundreds of windows cut into the stone face. You've always had a love for medieval architecture and this castle is breathtaking.

You open the door and hop out.

"Ahem."

You look back at the car. Krystal's sitting but she extends a slender white hand, her manicured burgundy nails staring you in the face. How many trips to the salon did she take a month? She wiggles her fingers at you and gives you a coquettish wink. That makes you smile and you help her out of the car. For the second time, you marvel at how your hands fit so closely together. Was it just your imagination or did she hold on for longer than necessary, fingers lingering on yours? Your stomach flips uncomfortably.

A tall woman in a form fitting pantsuit strides toward you.

"Miss Jung! It's so lovely to see you!" she says in a warm voice. She bows to both of you. "And I see you have a guest! Welcome to the Mandarin! Please, follow me."

At least she's nicer than the driver. You don't think you could handle another rude encounter today.

She takes Krystal's handbag and ushers you into the reception. Hundreds of torches gleam on the walls, illuminating rich oil paintings and suits of armor. You pause to admire a huge battle axe, but the lady rushes you to an elevator at the end of the room. It swiftly lifts you to the highest floor. A jerkin clad receptionist waits outside the doors. He bows so deeply that his forehead touches his shins. You suppress a snort. He rises and hands Krystal a golden key.

"Your rooms are in the central tower, right up those stairs. Mr. Lee will be on the lower landing, ready to assist you with whatever you may need. Thank you for choosing the Mandarin and we hope you enjoy your stay!" the woman chirps.

"Thank you. I'll take my bag." Krystal hoists her bag onto her shoulder and walks down the hallway to the bottom of the spiraling staircase. You follow her up the worn steps, getting dizzier the higher you go. There's no railing and the stone is crumbling under your feet. Mercifully the climb is short. You stop in front of a dark cherry wood door.

Krystal inserts her key into the lock which beeps. The door swings open and admits you into a modern Versailles. A virtual fire burns in an opulent living room, tendrils of multicolored flames curling upwards. Sofas and low tables dot the richly carpeted floor. To your right, is a marbled kitchen and to your left is the bedroom, its entrance flanked by two stone gargoyles.

"I'm going to take a shower," Krystal tells you as she tosses her bag on a sofa.

You nod and wearily sink onto a velvet pouf. It's been a long day. Kai, the hotel driver, the money hungry person you were becoming. All events you eventually had to analyze and compartmentalize. You feel a mounting headache building behind your temples. Maybe it would help if you closed your eyes. All you want is to forget.

"Did you want to shower?"

Your eyes fly open. Krystal's standing in front of you in a bathrobe, toweling her wet hair. The fire throws flickering light onto her skin, softening her features with its gentle glow. Against the backdrop of the room, she looks like she could be Athena, coming to rest in her Olympian home. Another reminder that you and here are nothing alike.

"Uh, I'll probably just do it tomorrow. I'm too tired," you yawn.

"You sure?" Krystal smiles slyly. "I can help if you want."

"Nah, I bet you can't even lift me with your weak arms," you shoot back. Good, keep it cool, not flustered.

She suddenly grins this wolfish smile and slides over to you. With an abrupt movement, she pulls you up drags you into the shower.

"Ah stop!"

"Nope. Someone's going to get clean!"

She pushes you into the shower, clothes and all. Crap, you didn't have other clothes. Krystal twists the faucet and a jet of hot water hisses out. It hits you in your face and you wince.

"Hey, Amber, what's that?"

Krystal's staring at your forehead, probably at the blossoming bruise from hitting the mirror.

"Oh, I just bumped my head, that's all. It's fine."

She looks concerned as she turns off the water.

"You don't look fine. You might have a concussion. Here, get out of the shower. I don't want you to faint in there."

You submissively nod. But as you raise your foot to step out of the shower, a wave of dizziness hits you.

"Woah, Amber! Hold on," Krystal says as you slump against her. You're getting her all wet but she doesn't seem to mind as she pulls your arm over her shoulders. She helps you out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. There's just one giant bed in there. You sit down as she runs back into the bathroom and comes out with another bathrobe.

"Here, take off your wet clothes and put this on," she orders. "I'll look away if you're embarrassed."

It takes several tries but you manage to get off your clothes and put on the robe. Krystal comes over with a hair dryer and lightly dries you off.

"There. I think I read somewhere that you're not supposed to sleep after a concussion, but I'm not sure—"

"No, that's outdated. I don't feel too dazed so I can sleep. But I should be monitored for a day or so," you automatically say.

"Jeez you're such a premed nerd. All right, I'll watch you. Go sleep then."

You wearily swing your legs off the bed and sit up but she pushes you back down.

"What are you doing? I told you to sleep!"

"I can take the sofa."

Krystal shakes her head.

"Are you serious? We already slept together once. I don't have cooties. Just sleep here. I don't want to monitor you on the sofa."

Fine by you. You tiredly surrender and close your eyes again. But it's no use. You're still thinking of that driver, of Kai, of this entire situation.

"What are you thinking about now? Can't you just turn your brain off?"

You open your eyes again, slightly annoyed.

"How do you know I wasn't trying to sleep?"

"You look like you're constipated. Just spit it out, whatever you were thinking in the car."

You sigh. Maybe it would be better if you talked about it. "Well, I was just thinking of the whole day. What happened with Kai. And the driver."

You stop. Did you want to talk about this with her? Would she even understand?

"The only way I can understand is if you tell me," she reads your mind. "Just tell me so you can fall asleep!" She pokes your cheek with her forefinger. "Tell me!"

"All right, fine!" you say, trying to dodge her sharp finger. "The driver was just rude to me, that's all."

"Rude?"

"Well he didn't let me get into the car, and then when he did stop, I hit the mirror which is how I got this bruise," you point at your forehead, "it just seemed like he was judging me. He was rude to me and didn't help me because of how I looked."

Krystal stares skeptically at you.

"That's horrible and all, but are you sure that's what happened? He was nice to me," she says.

It's your turn to stare at her, a slow heat starting to build.

"Yes I'm sure. He spat at me! Of course he wouldn't judge you cause you look like you're filthy rich!"

You clench your teeth to try and stem the tide of words that's coming, but you can't. Everything you wanted to say to Kai and the driver, everything that made you feel sick to your stomach bubbles to the front of your mind and spills out of your mouth.

"Him and Kai are both assholes. I've just had it up to here, being treated like I'm some sort of dirty piece of trash! And now I'm in your freaking hotel suite living some lie that I'll never be able to achieve! I feel like you're turning me into this person who just cares about money! And I hate that. I hate feeling like I'm poor! I hate feeling like my parents aren't enough! I hate feeling ashamed of my background! I just want to be me, but today I feel like I'm just not good enough for anything!"

You take a pillow and fling it across the room. It hits the wall and bursts, a thousand downy feathers raining down like snow. You ball your hands into fists, your nails digging into your palms, but you can't help the tears that leak out of your eyes. A loud sob wrenches its way out of your chest as you bury your face in your hands. You feel more inadequate than ever. Everything you had been holding in, from the way Kai talked about you to how the driver treated you, came out. Your stress with medical school, with classes, with money, with family. And the sheer impossibility of even dating someone above your social class just because you were too poor and too uncultured. That certain dreams you had could never be realized because of where you came from.

Gradually your sobs subside. You wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your bathrobe. You're afraid to look at Krystal, afraid to see her inevitable look of pity. So, you sit up and walk out the room.

She doesn't stop you.

"I'm going to sleep on the couch. You don't have to stay up, I feel fine. Thanks for the hotel room."

She doesn't follow you. Or answer you.

And for once, you're glad she doesn't. Deep down, you're extremely insecure and you throw yourself pity parties, so when the world gives you nothing, you're justified in hating it. Her silence just confirms that she doesn't care about you. She would never leave her world of comfort to try and befriend you. Because to befriend you would mean she would have to understand you, and that's impossible for anyone.