If I hadn't known Daehyun, he would never have kissed me that night when he got drunk. And if that hadn't happened, I wouldn't have thrown a shoe at his face.

Prologue

This story, like many other stories nowadays, does not start at its true beginning. It starts at a point when its entirety was already taking place. For example, it does not start like this:

A long time ago, on the second Wednesday of August, 4:16 AM, a beautiful baby girl was born in the Seoul National University Hospital. This child was not any regular child, the doctor and nurses had noted. This little girl, they had said, was very special.

Why, you wonder?

This child came into the world laughing. Yes, when this little baby was born, she did not cry. She had laughed hysterically. It was evident that the child’s life ahead of her would be an epic story to tell.

“Choi Nana,” her mother had said, lying underneath the white hospital blankets. “I think that name suits her best. Choi Nana.”

Little Nana had an unusual yet beautiful name, the doctor had noted too. Her mother proudly announced that it was a Japanese name. After all, little Nana was half of Japanese descent. Nana’s mother looked at her husband, Sanghoon. He did not say much; all of his attention was devoted to his new-born daughter.

“Fumi, she is so beautiful,” another woman in the hospital room breathed. She was called Miyoung. Her hand was placed over her own stomach, where a bump was starting to show. “Such a darling baby. I hope my own child will be just as beautiful.”

Miyoung’s husband, Kang Jinho, also the future powerful CEO of Kang Enterprises, placed his hand on his wife’s waist and observed little Nana’s parents and, of course, little Nana herself. Their happiness was radiant and he found himself hoping that in a few months’ time, he would be able to experience that same kind of joy.

Fumi, little Nana’s mother, smiled to the baby in her arms. “I am sure that she will be a radiant child. She will be happy-go-lucky and always smiling and laughing, because she was born smiling.”

Two months prior to the birth of little Nana, another baby was born in Busan Paik Hospital. This child, the doctors had noted, liked to cry. He was born while crying, was measured by the doctor while crying and was held by his parents while crying. Incessantly so, for an hour. It was unusual, the doctor said. Babies did not usually cry for such a long time span. From that moment, it was clear that this child would have an equally epic future ahead.

“Jung Daehyun,” his mother, Hyunjung, said as she held her second son. Her first son, only three years old, was standing by her bed and looked at his little brother with big, wondering eyes. Her husband, Youngjin, stood next to him, looking at his second son with the same eyes as his first son’s.

Youngjin gave her a kiss on her left cheek. Then, smiling at his family, he said: “I have this feeling that Daehyun will be a cry baby.”

Little Nana grew to be a prone to tears ice princess. Little Daehyun became a vibrant and happy child. Both Fumi and Youngjin could not have been more wrong with their predictions for their own children.

But, as is now known, this story does not start at the birth of little Nana and little Daehyun. Neither does it start at the point when little Daehyun and little Nana, now both at the age of fifteen and not so little anymore, meet each other for the first time:

“Noona, are you home?” A boy, Choi Junhong, called from the entrance of his house.  Zelo, as Junhong liked to call himself, waited for a few seconds, listening for any calls back from his sister. When he realised that she was probably not home, he shrugged and motioned for his friends standing outside to come in. A group of five boys entered, four of whom were one or two years older than Zelo.

They had just spent an hour outside in the scorching sun, skating and having fun. Zelo’s love for his skateboard was, however, halfway stopped by his thirst for water and desire for some cool air. And so it was decided that they would go to Zelo’s house and rest for a moment before returning to their fun.

The five boys were rowdy and noisy. The moment they entered the air-conditioned space, they broke out in an unquenchable joy. They called for water and for food.

“Do you have cookies? I want to eat cookies,” one of them, Jongup, said. “I haven’t had cookies in a long while.”

“Sure,” Zelo said, with a roll of his eyes. “But take off your shoes first.”

His friends listened to his words obediently and then followed their friend into his house. They talked about skating, about girls or about their maths teacher who happened to dislike them. The second oldest and loudest of them, Kim Himchan, did not pay attention to where he was walking and consequently bumped into Zelo’s back. He was about to ask his friend why he had stopped walking, when he heard sobbing noises.

There, on the sofa of the living room, sat a crying girl. She looked at the boys standing at the entrance to the living room with a deer in the headlight look, not understanding why she had not heard them enter the house.

“Noona? What’s wrong?” Zelo asked with worry as he rushed over to her side. “What happened?”

The girl did not answer. Instead, she kept staring at the other boys standing in her living room. She recognised them all. Four of them were in her year at school. The last one was in the same year as Zelo's. She recognised Yoo Youngjae and Kim Himchan, who were acquainted with her best friend Kang Heeyoung. Then, she reddened and motioned for Zelo to go away.

Zelo, however, did not give up. He would not forgive anyone who made his dear sister cry and so he looked around for any hints. That was, until he saw the television screen. There he found Finding Nemo on pause.

Ah, he realised then. His sister had been crying because she was watching Finding Nemo.

Zelo sighed and got up. With a final pat on the girl’s right shoulder, he left for the kitchen. His friends, meanwhile, had also come to understand the situation with the slight exception for poor, clueless Moon Jongup. One of them gave a friendly nod to Zelo’s older sister. Others had the decency to pretend like they had not seen anything.

That was, except for one of them.

As Zelo led his friends to the kitchen, one of the boys removed himself from the pack and made his way to the couch. The girl was almost too scared to look up, but when she did, she saw a handsome boy smiling down at her.

Go away, she thought, I don’t want anyone to see me crying over Finding Nemo.

But the boy was not just anyone. He wanted to help her. It was in his nature to constantly help others. And so he crouched down in front of the girl and held out a white Kleenex tissue.

And though she hadn’t wanted for him to be there just a moment ago, the girl gratefully took the offered tissue and wiped her salty tears away.

"There you go,” the boy said, with a kind smile. A Busan accent was evident in his speech. He got back up and turned to leave. Then he remembered his manners and, turning back, he held out his hand for her. She looked at it with big, curious eyes before reaching out for it hesitantly. They shook each other’s hands. “I’m Jung Daehyun. What is your name?”

Then she hesitated again. She thought to herself: Junhong has really weird friends. But she opened and, with a beautiful and clear voice, she said: “I’m Choi Nana.”

No; this story starts at a point far beyond that. In fact, it finds its beginning one fateful Wednesday evening when Choi Nana and Jung Daehyun are both eighteen years old and in their final year of high school.

And as was predicted, their story is indeed epic.