FOREWORD

“Do you the bride, Boa Kwon,

take the groom, Yoochun Park,

to be your wedded husband,

to have and to hold,

for better or for worse,

for richer or for poorer,

to love and to cherish,

from this day forward,

for as long as you both shall live?”

Under that white lacy veil, crystalline tears stream down her fair, listless face and her body shakes in a quiet tremble she wishes she can stop, but she can’t.

Silence ensues the hall, and she knows that the whole world is waiting for her answer, the one and only answer of I do, and yet-

Yoochun squeezes her small, quivering hand and sends his wife-to-be a bright, encouraging smile, one that juxtaposes her hidden intentions.

“I…I…” she stutters and bites her lower lip. The groom’s face abruptly darkens upon hearing that weakness, that doubt, that insecurity in her tiny voice, a voice that shakes his heart in unimaginable ways.

Yoochun’s luminous eyes cloud over at the realization that-

“I can’t,” she weeps aloud and gives her lover an apologetic gaze through the lace, the last look in what she presumes to be for a very long time.

The entire hall seems to fall out of their seats, heads turning as the bride’s hand leaves the groom’s in apparent slow-motion.  She runs – and runs – and runs away from him, away from their future together.

Yoochun stares at his empty palm. Worst of all, he knew that there is nothing he can do about it.

Family members rise to their feet and a couple relatives even chase after the runaway bride.

“Boa! Boa Kwon! Where are you going?” the groom’s father yells, clutching his chest as if to prevent a heart attack.

But the small figure in the silky white dress is already making her way down the ever-tall staircase without regrets.

“Come back!” the mother shouts, but the beautiful crying girl in the translucent glass slippers doesn’t look back.

This time, she won’t look back.

Boa gasps at the end of the steps and backs away from a roaring midnight motorcycle that suddenly skidded to a halt and cut into her path. Her hands shield her pretty face and she retreats, only to be pulled back by the stranger’s strong, white leather-gloved grasp.

“Looks like you need some help escaping,” a melodious, playful voice flows out from behind a dull, golden helmet. Several deep white scratches appear along its right side, and a chunk of the shell is broken off the top left hemisphere - an appearance of risk and danger – and yet, Boa Kwon follows.

Without a word or even a sign of response, she quickly hops on the back of the hunk of metal, coiling short arms around the man’s slender waist, letting him take her away.

Though she has no idea who the mystery man is, nor where they will be going, as long as it isn’t here, Boa believes-

She believes that she will be happy.