Chapter 1: Fall of the Narcissus

I was 14 years old when I first aspired to become a cartoonist. With my motivation from Dragon Ball and some Youtube channels, I followed every step that books and lectures recommended. I even majored in Comics and Animation at Gyung-gi college and proceeded to advance in my trek toward becoming a true creator. But the reality wasn't easy. First, I drew a comic about the Underworld, but my manuscript was rejected by both top-class and third-party publishers. I was offended since I was ascertained that I possessed unsurpassed flair and artistry, but also because I strongly believed that the very being of me would overwhelm the clichéd and depthless comic industry. But I was mistaken. I tortured myself, creating another comic about a lawyer who solves heavily cerebral quests in competition with other famous geniuses. But this too failed to be published. With my hope lost, I realized that only five-thousand dollars were left in my wallet. At this time, my love for my passion was just another luxury. So, with tears, I applied to a third-party publisher, then got hired as a comic artist. Here's a brief explanation about this job: every day, I wasted my life drawing stupid characters and backgrounds. On top of this hardship, the story director and I did not get along, disagreeing about almost anything. Like this, my hellish years passed. But luckily (not for the writer), the story director had gotten in a car crash, which completely obliterated our comic. So, I got fired. But I walked out of the door smiling, not knowing the bleak future that I was headed to.

Because my paycheck wasn't coming from anywhere, I moved out of my apartment, then rented a small room in Hopyung-dong. There, I first tried to refine my story but soon realized that all these efforts were futile. Now, it was obvious to me that I had no talent as a cartoonist, and that I chose the wrong path. I had foolishly betted my future on irresponsible websites and colleges that whisper sweet words in your ears to stuff their bellies. Days went on idly, which drew my friends' attention. One of them was Jason who was, and still is an executive at Samsung. He sometimes came over to my room, then talked about my mental state, just like how I used to visit him after he was beaten and mocked by my acquaintances in our high school.

"It will be wise for you to see a psychiatrist," he said, "mental health is important, you know! Or start working again! You can't just live in your one-room and eat cup noodles forever!" Even knowing that I will not change my mind, he continued. But unlike what it seemed to him, I did work in a supermarket to cover my expenses, which took most of my day.

Nothing in my life changed until my good friend, Jason, called me. He announced that he was getting married and that I should visit his wedding ceremony. Even though my heart refused to go (perhaps because of my schedule or perhaps I was afraid that the contrast between him and me would destroy my ego), it was my best friend's best day. I couldn't miss it.

The day of the ceremony was glamorous. It happened inside a beautiful luxurious hotel with high-status people. They all greeted and showed respect to Jason, and I could see their aristocratic manners from every step they took. The same Jason that I used to manage and patronize was now a social elite; a brilliant young man whom thousands of fathers and sons depend on. And at his wedding, groups enough for his status attended. I could see Hansol Cho, the rising star of semiconductor scientists and the daughter of a famous CEO. And did I mention the lavish food? The fact that the Wagyu steak was being served as if it was a common burger? Everything in this place was gorgeous and golden, but not me. I was the only imperfection there. For the sake of my friend, or perhaps mine, I headed back home.

It did not take long for Jason to notice my absence. A few hours later, obviously, after the ceremony, he called me.

"Hey, why weren't you there at the wedding? You made me search for you!" he said as if he was my boss too.

"Well, I had my schedule. Forgive me, Jason." I replied.

"What schedule did you have, huh? All you do is just read stupid manga!" This pushed me off the edge. I already felt ashamed and doubtful of myself. There was no way that I'd let this slide. My ego did not allow it.

"Well, who are you to care? I hope you have a good night with your new wife! Now, I'm busy." I hung up. Then, I fell asleep, not knowing that my life would change soon enough, thanks to my best friend.