This isn't your typical story where the main character is overpowered or gets a perfect happy ending. This is simply my (the author's) personal life experience that I want to share. I'm not trying to write as flawlessly as the stories you usually see here — I'm just keeping it real. Whether you choose to believe it or not is up to you.
Introduction:
Let's keep my name simple—call me PeaceXan. And yes, if you read the book cover, you already know: I'm a guy with way too many interests. But my core passion has always been Art. I'm a self-taught traditional and digital artist.
Before you think this is going to be another boring art diary—hold on.
This isn't about techniques or tutorials.
This is the story of a guy who kept getting hit by life, again and again, until the line between reality and fiction stopped making sense.
But one thing always stayed the same: people… human nature.
And that's where the real story begins.
In my childhood, I used to be the "fat kid."
Yeah—just like the ones you see in manhwas… except my life wasn't as funny or dramatic as those panels try to show.
Back then, I had only one real friend.
Let's call him Aras—I'm terrible at names anyway, so let's move on.
Most kids were okay on some days… and monsters on others.
Some of them bullied me—not physically, they didn't punch or kick—but sometimes words hit harder than fists ever could.
One day, I broke down and cried in front of my mother.
I hated it. I hated myself. I hated how miserable life felt just because of my body.
But here's the strange part…
Even with all the pain, those days still feel like a dream—
A mix of innocence and hurt that I can't fully explain.
But as life changes… everything else changes with it.
When I was a kid, I was slow at almost everything.
If the teacher taught us how to multiply numbers, I'd forget how to divide them the very next day.
Funny, right?
Well… funny now. Back then, it was just embarrassing.
Even in PE class, I was always the slowest.
Always the last one running.
Always the kid who struggled—because, yeah, I was overweight, and my body just couldn't keep up.
And then there was Aras.
My best friend.
He was the complete opposite of me.
Top 3 in every PE activity.
Top 3 in exams.
Top 3 in everything he touched.
He remembered every single thing he studied, like his brain was wired differently.
We couldn't have been more different—
but we were still friends.
Maybe it was because of how we behaved with each other.
Maybe it was because our parents were close.
Or maybe… some friendships don't need a reason.
Opposites or not, he was the one person who stayed.
Because of Aras's grades—and the fact that he was fast at everything—even the school teacher offered him a chance to be his private tutor.
Meanwhile, I was rejected right in front of my mother.
The teacher called me slow, like it was some kind of label I had to wear forever.
But the surprising part?
My mother didn't scold me. She didn't shame me.
She just understood me.
How do I know?
Let me tell you.
Ever since I was little, I had a strange obsession with cars—just like a lot of kids, but mine was… extreme.
I used to ask my mom for a new toy car almost every single day.
She didn't scold me because they were expensive—
She scolded me because I was too obsessed.
And honestly?
I'm glad she did.
Those small scoldings kept me grounded and helped me learn how to control myself.
But that obsession also led me to something important.
It was the first time I learned how to draw.
My mother would draw a small car on the floor of our house, and I loved it so much that I'd grab a pencil and start drawing random shapes on paper—messy, weird, and meaningless… but fun.
When my mom saw that spark in me, she made a decision that changed my life.
She sent me to an art tutor.
And even today, I still think that was the best decision she ever made for me.
Oh, and I almost forgot to mention something important.
Back then, we didn't have our own house.
( We still live in a rented house too )
We lived in a small rented place right next to Aras's home.
Maybe that's also why we were so close—our lives were literally side by side.
Anyway, by now you probably have a basic idea of who I am and where I came from.
This is just the introduction.
The real story—the struggles, the moments, the choices—comes in the later chapters.
You can stick around if this slice of my life interests you…
or you can leave if you find it boring.
Either way, this is my story.
Simple, real, and unfiltered.