Jungkook’s new mansion was palatial, its modern-European gables and the beautiful, multi-storey portico entryway looming over us as I carefully made my way up the marbled stairs, trying to appear as graceful as I possibly could without tripping on the long, shimmery train of my undoubtedly exquisite gown and making a spectacle of myself in front of all the other guests who were slowly gliding into the foyer with an air of elegance much alike that of a flock of swans drifting on the surface of a lake.

I watched discomfited as another group of rich, young women passed by us in a bubble of soft, muffled conversation and delighted laughter; none of them even bothering to look down and check their footing as they walked right in, not a single step wobbly or unsure, their stiletto-clad feet confidently falling into place one after the other as if climbing stairs in five-inch heels with tight corsets cinching their waists, and yards of expensive yet equally treacherous fabric swishing behind their legs was no difficult feat at all.