Get it Together, Taesan! ? han dongmin

( this is SO not my body )

Okay, deep breaths. One, two—

"WHY DO I HAVE ABS?" I scream internally, staring at the mirror in Taesan's stupidly expensive bathroom.

This wasn't a dream. This was not one of those weird fever dreams you laugh about the next day. This was real. I, Minji, am currently trapped inside the tall, broad, annoyingly perfect body of Han Taesan. And I hate it here.

I poke my chest. It's flat. Like, really flat. And where my chest used to be? It's just pecs and confusion.

I look down lower and quickly look back up.

Nope. Not going there. Not today.

I shuffle into the room, limbs heavier and longer than mine, and nearly trip on Taesan's ridiculously large sneakers.

"Why are boys built like transformer robots?" I mutter under my breath, pulling on one of his black hoodies—which basically fits like a dress—and trying to psych myself up for the day.

I've got to act normal. I've got to pretend to be him until we figure this out. No one can suspect that the cold, mysterious Han Taesan is currently being controlled by a panicked 18-year-old girl who barely passed math last semester.

Right as I step outside, someone yells from across the street, "Yo, Taesan!"

I flinch.

It's Jaehyun, the loud one. The one who always gives him crap for everything.

Crap.

I wave... awkwardly. Too awkwardly. Jaehyun squints.

"What's with the stiff wave?" he laughs. "You got a cramp or something?"

"Uh... yeah," I say, lowering my voice a few octaves. "Neck cramp. From... sleeping weird."

He eyes me suspiciously but shrugs. "You better not be getting sick. We got P.E. today."

Great. P.E. in this body? My luck just keeps getting worse.

🍒

I follow Jaehyun down the hallway, trying to remember how Taesan walks. Cool. Calm. Collected. Meanwhile, I probably look like a malfunctioning action figure.

"Yo, you good?" Woonhak nudges me as we reach the classroom. "You've been walking like your shoes are made of bricks."

"They feel like it," I mutter.

"Bro, what?" Woonhak blinks. "You're so weird lately."

Great. Even he notices.

I sit down in Taesan's usual seat and try not to look like I'm about to cry. I glance at the desk in front of me—empty. Where I usually sit. Or used to sit.

It hits me again. I am Han Taesan. And Han Taesan is... me.

What is life.

Then, the door swings open and in walks—me.

Well, not me, but Taesan... in my body. My face. My cardigan. My everything. And the worst part?

He looks good.

That's so messed up.

He makes eye contact with me—or himself?—and his expression is all blank and brooding, which is exactly how I look when I'm annoyed. Which is 90% of the time. So, fair.