Sandara Park had long derided the concept of destiny. The sentimental value of the word itself hardly suited her logic. She solemnly refused to believe there was such thing as fate, therefore everything that happened beyond her calculations was merely coincidence.

So when she coincidentally bumped into someone after a brusque hit by the shoulder as she passed by on the pedestrian in front of her office, she did not think it would affect the rest of her life completely.

“Ouch!” Dara would have fallen ungracefully on her behind had she worn her stilettos that day. She was running late that morning so she just grabbed anything from her shoes cabinet – a pair of  vintage brown loafers. Not the most fashionable items, but at least they had saved her from the possibility of public embarassment.

“The ...” a heavy baritone voice of a male reverberated on the opposite side. She would have dismissed the curse, spared no glance and continued walking but then she smelled coffee. Some droplets even stained her polished shoes.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she automatically craned her neck only to meet the most tantalizing features she had ever seen in her entire existance in this world, “I’m so sorry...”

There was him, standing tall in front of her with brows creased into a deep furrow, eyes transfixed to the now spilled hot latte in his hand and his dark trench coat with expression less than amused. He was ready to bark another profanities, but his cuss came into a halt as soon as he looked up and found her widened eyes.

He was then too, mesmerized.

To Choi Seunghyun, love and romance had been an abstract concept which was shamelessly overused by capitalists to gain profit from our consumptive society. Take Valentine’s day as an example. A pragmatic individual like him believe in nothing that shared similar resemblance to such void proposition. His logic was: people got acquainted with each other due to their instinct of preserving offspring.

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