16 years ago, in a small neighborhood park, 8 year old, Daeun—a lively girl—noticed a teenage boy sitting on a bench. Sunoo, 16, was clearly upset. His slumped posture was enough to tug at Daeun's curious heart.
“Why does a banana never feel lonely?” she asked.
Sunoo blinked, slightly suprised. “...Why?”
“Because it’s always in a bunch!”
For a moment, silence hung in the air. Then, much to Daeun’s delight, a small chuckle escaped his lips.
“That’s so bad, really," he smiled.
Encouraged by his reaction, Daeun spent the next hour telling the most absurd jokes her young mind could conjure. By the time Sunoo left, his sadness had lifted, replaced with a smile. Daeun, felt something unfamiliar flutter in her chest.
Sixteen years later, Daeun was now 24, a confident and straightforward woman working odd jobs while trying to find her calling. One evening, her friends were reminiscing about their first loves. Daeun found herself remembering the boy at the playground.
The memory of his face lingered vividly in her heart.
Curiosity bloomed. Who was he? Did he even remember her?
Days later, she collided with a tall figure. Papers scattered everywhere.
It was him.
Sunoo, now 32, was as handsome and charismatic as she had imagined. Daeun gawked, her heart pounding.
However, he didn’t recognize her. With a polite nod, he helped gather the papers and walked away.
Daeun’s friends called her tenacious, and they weren’t wrong. After days of searching, she discovered his identity: Sunoo, CEO of Seoul’s biggest conglomerate.
“If I can’t get him to remember me, I’ll make him notice me,” she declared.
She applied for a position at his company, confident she could charm her way in. Unfortunately, her application was rejected. Personally. By Sunoo.
“I don’t think you’re qualified for this role,” the email read, signed by himself.
Daeun stared at the email in disbelief. “Qualified? I made him laugh when he was a broody teenager! What does he mean not qualified?”