Previously in this series.
You are a woman of modest means, yet you only seem to date men who own hotels.
You are a nice girl who knows exactly one nice guy. You forget about him a lot, but gosh, he sure is nice. Whoever he is.
You spend roughly 35% of your day sitting in fashionable cafés having very intense conversations.
You own like three Samsung Galaxy S6s and so do all your friends.
So you met your soul mate at age ten, who doesn’t?
You have a dark, shameful family secret that must be kept at any cost. Excuse me, did we say “have”? We meant had.
Once again you are being forced to choose between your stake in the empire your family has painstakingly built at great cost and sacrifice, or the person you truly love.
Your past always comes back to haunt you. Also, maybe, a ghost.
Chances are good that you were poor, abandoned, or suffered a devastating loss in your childhood. Maybe all three.
No one seems to know who you and your friends are, but you just happen to be the best martial artists in Korea.
Your parents are deceased. You are heartbroken.
Your parents are alive, and are preventing you from getting married. You are heartbroken.
No one actually knows what happened to your parents. You’re being raised by your grandparents, who are trying to get you to break off your current relationship in order to pair you off with someone you know you can never love. Also, it’s the year 2015.
You have been consumed by your quest to find a certain person. For some reason you guys keep getting on different elevators in the same building and missing each other by seconds.
Your boyfriend’s ex is a lying jealous liar who wishes she didn’t have a high-powered fabulous career and buckets of money so her stupid perfectly sculpted face could be attractive to your boyfriend.
You’re just not ready to settle down and your family won’t leave you alone about it! Clearly you have no choice but to compel a complete stranger to pretend to be your fiancée.
You would seriously never kiss anyone if not for your clumsiness/bad luck/generally poor sense of direction.
You don’t get lucky a lot, although people are constantly hugging you from behind.
It’s kind of hard for everyone to figure out how you even got pregnant…?
Everybody in town knows more about your family history than you do.
“Love triangles”? So basic. A minimum of four people need to be involved or there’s not enough romantic tension to bother with.
You meet someone and there’s an instant attraction. Before you can actually go out on a date, a ridiculous plot twist forces you to live together for a year.
The fate of your privileged but precariously positioned family of politicians rests on your ability to produce a son for the king. Your frenemy does it first.
You are terrible at disguising yourself as a member of the opposite gender – seriously, you are just the worst at it – yet everybody is fooled by your ruse for a bafflingly long time.
There’s someone in your life you find confusing/frustrating/totally incomprehensible. You could take them out for a drink and talk and get to know them, and then maybe you’d eventually come to understand why their life is so dang complicated and the two of you would start to get along. Or — option B — you could switch bodies with them and just see how that goes. Option B it is!
Everyone is very sorry about that terrible car accident you were just in.
Bummer about your friend’s shocking cancer diagnosis, too.
Yes, someone’s sick/deathbed does seem like the most obvious place for you to offer up either an ominous warning or a shameful confession.
Man, this king sure has a temper.
You had a best friend once. Now they are your greatest rival. But you have a sneaking suspicion that maybe, just maybe, you’ll find a way to be friends again someday, even if one of you has to die for that to happen.
No fewer than five different shamans have uttered ominous prophecies about each member of your complicated love polygon. None of them manage to warn you not to eat that cake noooo don’t do it not the cake the cake is full of poison agggghhhh
Amnesia: it happens, you know?
Everyone is relieved to learn that your hotel heir boyfriend is not secretly your brother. He’s not even your cousin. Whew.
Nicole Chung is the Managing Editor of The Toast.
Sarah Jeong is a journalist who writes on law and technology. Her work has appeared in The Verge, Forbes, and The Guardian.