*"Hi, I'm Jiwon."*
The words fell from his lips like a confession, a truth he'd never dared to say out loud. He sat in his dimly lit apartment, the same place that had seen him struggle and dream in equal measure. The cracked window let in a bit of light, but the shadows never truly left. *This was his world—quiet, still, unnoticed.*
His eyes drifted to the sketchbook on the desk. His creations, his stories, they were the only things that gave him purpose. Every page in that book held the truth of who he was, even if no one else would ever see it.
*"They always told me to follow my dreams,"* he muttered, his gaze lingering on the manhwa, *"but they never said how hard it would be to make them real."*
He ran a hand through his messy hair, the weight of reality sinking in. His family had been nothing but shadows in his life. He grew up in an apartment too small for the three of them, his father working long hours, his mother too tired to speak much more than a few words at a time. They had tried. But in the end, the weight of the world had been too much. His mother had passed away too soon, the illness eating away at her before anyone could do anything about it. And his father? A broken man, a remnant of a dream that had shattered before it ever had a chance to take shape. *A fraud.*
He was never ashamed of who he was, but the world didn't care about that. It only cared about success. It only cared about names, faces, backgrounds. And the truth was—he didn't have any of those things.
His father's name was dragged through the mud in the tabloids, his illegal dealings, his debts. The family was marked, branded with the same label. *Fraud.* And it wasn't just the tabloids that had turned on them. It was everyone. He was just a part of that world now—unseen, unnoticed, and unwanted.
*"But I won't be invisible anymore,"* Jiwon whispered, staring at the completed pages of his manhwa. *"This... this is my chance."*
---
**The Big Break**
The email came late at night, the subject line lighting up his screen:
**Subject:** *Grand Success - Your Submission to Animora Studios*
Jiwon's heart stopped. *Animora.* His breath caught in his throat. This was the studio that brought dreams to life, the place where stories were not just told—they were *made*. He had dreamed of this moment for so long. And now, it was happening.
He opened the email, his fingers trembling as he read the words:
*"We have reviewed your submission, and we are impressed. Your work shows great potential, and we would like to see more. Please come to our office for further discussion."*
Jiwon stared at the screen, unable to believe it. *This was it. This was his chance.*
His hands were shaking, but he didn't stop. He grabbed his manhwa, stuffing it into his bag as he rushed out the door. The air outside felt different—brighter, lighter, like the weight of the world had suddenly been lifted from his shoulders. For the first time, he felt like he was moving toward something greater than himself.
---
**Animora Studios**
The building loomed before him, a towering structure of glass and steel. The future. He had made it here. He was here. His heart beat louder with every step, every breath, every moment that passed as he walked toward the entrance.
Once inside, the reception area was sleek, minimalistic. The receptionist handed him a visitor's badge with a polite smile, leading him to a conference room. The air was thick with anticipation, the kind that makes everything feel alive.
The manager sitting behind the desk was an imposing figure. Sharp suit, sharp eyes, the kind of person who looked at the world and saw nothing but business.
"Mr. Jiwon," the manager said, without looking up, his voice cool and professional. "We've reviewed your work."
Jiwon nodded, unable to hide the anxious flutter in his chest. This was it. This was everything. The moment that would change everything.
The manager flipped through the pages of Jiwon's manhwa, his eyes scanning each panel with intensity. *They liked it. They *really* liked it.*
The manager finally set the pages down and looked up. His face showed a flicker of something—appreciation? Approval? *No, not yet.* The words that followed crushed Jiwon's heart.
"This is impressive work," the manager said. "Original, fresh. But... there's a problem. You've remained anonymous."
Jiwon's stomach churned. He had never wanted to reveal his identity. The shame of his father's actions, the fraud he had become. *His past was a curse. And he wasn't ready to face it.*
"I don't see why that matters," Jiwon said, his voice shaky but firm.
The manager sighed, his eyes narrowing. "Your father was involved in fraudulent business dealings, wasn't he? *You should've told us. Your work is good, but the public... they'll never trust you unless they know who you are.*"
Jiwon's breath hitched. *How did they know?* How had they found out so quickly? It didn't matter. *It was over.*
The manager's tone grew colder. "Your story might be good, but without transparency, you're nothing more than another fraud. How can we trust someone who hides their true self?"
Jiwon felt the walls of the room close in around him. His mind raced, but no words came out. It didn't matter how good his work was. It didn't matter how much effort he had put into his dreams. His past—his father's failure—was *his* failure now.
---
**The Backlash**
As Jiwon stepped outside, the weight of the world seemed to press down on him all over again. His phone buzzed relentlessly in his pocket, and he hesitated before pulling it out. The screen flickered to life, the latest headline blaring at him:
**Breaking News:** *Jiwon's Father Exposed as Fraudulent Businessman.*
Jiwon felt the ground shift beneath him. The comments flooded in faster than he could process. The praise he had received online, the support from strangers, it all turned to venom in an instant. His name, once admired, was now cursed.
"*Another fraud.*"
"*Just like his father.*"
"*Don't trust him—he's nothing but a liar.*"
The internet that had once praised his work now turned its back on him, its words sharp and unforgiving. It was as if his past had been reborn, and now, it consumed him once more.
Jiwon stumbled into an alley, his knees buckling as he sat down, his head in his hands. He could feel the weight of the world pressing down on him—his past, his failure, his dreams—all crushed beneath the weight of something he couldn't change.
He pulled the *Pen of Reality* from his bag, his fingers trembling as he stared at it. The pen—the one tool that had given him hope. But now... now it felt like nothing more than a reminder of everything he had lost. A symbol of failure.
With a sharp crack, the pen broke in his hands, the pieces falling to the ground like shattered glass. Jiwon didn't say anything. There were no more words. No more hope. Just the broken remnants of his dream.
"I tried..." he whispered. "*I really tried... but it was never enough.*"
_ To be continue