"To finish the procedure, the two of you need to sign this area."

Grey hair.  White shirt.  Black suit.  He pointed to the thin line at the bottom of the sheet.  

In a quick , the young female hurriedly penned her signature, passing it over to her partner without uttering a word.  Her partner didn't hesitate to sign his name either as the paper slid over to him.

"Okay, business is finished here.  Have a good day," the old man smiled.

The pair stood up from their chairs and walked, their steps in sync, but they were distant.  Once the couple reached the glass door, each opened a door for themselves, exiting the building.  She stepped right, and he turned left.  The two of them avoided each other's eyes, their backs turned to each other.  They walked straight, never turning back.

2 years and 8 months later.

"Sang Hyun-oppa~!  Wake up!"  

"Don't call me that, Nana." Cheondoong snapped.  

"Whatever!  Do you know what today is?"  

Nana pounced on his bed so that it trembled.

"What?" Cheondoong mumbled.

"You don't know what today is?"  Nana's face was crestfallen. 

"Of course I do, I was just kidding.  It's our eight month anniversary."  

He pulled her head close and pressed his lips to her head.  In return, she gave him a quick peck on the mouth.  

"I made food.  Hurry up and come eat okay?" she smiled. "Oh, and we're going to have a date tonight at 9:30 for our anniversary," she added before dancing out of his room.

"Yeah!  I'll come home after work," Cheondoong called after her. 

He dragged his aching body, his head pounding from aches, from his bed and opened a creaky door to the balcony, ignoring the pain.

Something good's gonna happen today.  I know it, he smiled and thought to himself as he bathed in the sunlight. 

"Park Cheondoong.  You've gotten a promotion," his boss grunted as he slapped an envelope onto Cheondoong's chest.

 "Excuse me, sir?"  He couldn't believe his ears.  

"You'll be working on the fourth floor where all the fabrics are located with the higher-ups.  Oh, and you'll also be working under someone new.  Go there now.  Sadly, someone else is taking your place of delivery boy today.  The room is on the left and you are not allowed to open the envelope until you reach the office." 

His now former boss grumpily stalked off without another word.   However, Cheondoong bursted with glee and even fist-pumped the air.   Throwing his bag over his shoulder and squeezing his envelope tightly, he strutted to the elevator and attacked the button.

"I think once will suffice," a cool voice said.

Cheondoong whirled around, embarrassed.  Standing behind him was a tall boy with a young baby face dressed in a deep, dark blue vest and black jeans.  He certainly looked extravagant, but casual.    

"I'm sorry, excuse me, please enter first," Cheondoong stammered and apologized.

They stepped into the elevator, reaching for the fourth and eighth floor button at the same time--giving each other a small smile at their actions.  An awkward silence followed.  

In an attempt at a small conversation, Cheondoong politely asked,"What are you here for today?"

"I'm delivering something."

"Oh, you must be the new delivery boy!"

"I'm sorry?"  He wrinkled his nose.

"I was promoted today," Cheondoong brightly and proudly told the boy. "I used to be a delivery boy, but since I got promoted, there's someone else who's delivering."

The elevator bell rang and Cheondoong stepped out.

"Let's meet again, and good luck delivering!" Cheondoong grinned.

"Ah.  Uh..." the boy looked puzzled and frowned.

Cheondoong walked slowly towards the end of the hall and checked his watch, wanting to be perfectly on time and to make a good first impression.  He began to become anxious and finally, the clock hand hit the three.  Cheondoong knocked on the door.  After a few minutes, there was no reply.  He knocked again.  No reply.  He waited for another minute.  Still no answer.  He began to grow impatient.  

"I'm coming in, please excuse me," Cheondoong warned as he turned the knob.

He was greeted by an array of falling broomsticks and buckets.  Realizing his situation, he tore open the envelope and fumbled with his fingers.  The blood drained from his face.

Eighth floor, room 45A.

Do not be late.    

                       Y.Y. 

That damn old geezer! Cheondoong fumed.   There was no time to think, only run.  He sprinted to the elevator and once again jammed the button repeatedly.  The familiar bell rang, the door opened and he flew in.  Each second passed felt like an eternity.  

He stood in front of a fancy door, gasping for breath and his hair damp with sweat.  He knocked on the door, certain that this was the door.  Trying to look at least even a little presentable, he attempted to flatten his messy hair and wiped his sweat away with his sleeve.

"Come in," his new boss voiced.

Cheondoong stepped in nervously, eyes searching for his new manager.  There he was, sitting at his desk in a vest of navy blue ruffling sheets of paper.

.

"You're late."  

"I'm sorry, I got off at the wrong floor.  You remember me, don't you?" Cheondoong explained. 

"No matter.  That is your problem, Mr. Park Sang Hyun."

"Cheondoong.  Please call me Cheondoong," he corrected.

"It says on your profile that you are Park Sang Hyun."

We are definitely going to get along...

"Yes, but I'm not particularly fond of that name."

"Okay then, Mr. uh... Cheondoong.  My name is Yang Yoseob and starting today, I'm your new manager.  I expect you to do your best.  On the table, there's a portfolio with instructions, so you can get to work right away."

"Yes, Mr. Yang.  I understand."

"We're the same age, so just call me Yoseob," Yoseob commanded.  

"Yes, M- Yoseob."

As Cheondoong bowed his way out and reached for the door, it swung open, hitting him squarely in the head and chest.  His already aching head and fatigued body.  He wobbled forward, and everything began to turn into a blur.  

A girl with long hair.  Big eyes.  Small face.

In the background, he could hear voices.

"Cheondoong-sshi!" 

His eyes were locked on the girl.  She was almost expressionless, but her eyes were in shock.  

"Nana...?" he murmured.

He fell onto the doll-like girl.  

"Sang Hyun-ah." 

The girl whispered faintly.  

It's not Nana.  There's only one person who could have called me that name.  

It's her.

Everything plunged into darkness.

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A/N: I've finally posted an introduction-like chapter for this story.  I hope you enjoy it!  I'm still not exactly sure if this is a melodramatic romance or a vanilla story yet.  I apologize for any spelling and grammar mistakes in this chapter.  Updating this at 6:30 a.m isn't exactly the best time.  I hope you enjoy this introduction&story. 

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