Throughout the years, she hadn't always appreciated the illustrations she sketched; painted and posted on social media. If anything, it made her feel frustrated and upset.. But that was during her middle and high school days—that hadn't necessarily mean that she hadn't taken away those feelings of shame; embarrassment; guilt even. Although it had slowly and gradually simmered down thanks to the people she had surrounded herself with—those that she can either call family or friends during her high school days most specifically.

Some days.. She had truly considered surrendering herself to giving up on the one thing she loved the most: art. After all, her selfies had always gotten much more reception and attention than the illustrations that she works so hard to present. She eventually pulled herself out of those feelings, knowing that she was no quitter, knowing that she was determined to make a name for herself in that industry.

And so, with the support of her friends and family, she continued on with that journey to success.. Which even after graduation from Kamiyama High School, she pursued on with that journey to becoming a well known artist instead of some woman on social media that's well known due to her pretty looks.

After many attempts at seeking for art schools, she managed to get herself enrolled into one that appreciated her talents—her uniqueness that no other art school would be able to accept due to the fact that some artists in the industry have a narrow-minded perspective on what's acceptable and what's not; the truth is, there is no rules to mastering the crafts of art. Never was, never will be.

Pacing around her small but cozy art studio that she worked hard to earn, she took a good look at the illustration she had sketched then painted over with one of the brushes she used. Placing her thumb and index finger on her chin with hesitation across her face, narrowing her dark brown tinted pink, gradient beige eyes as her lips then slowly curved into a small but noticeable smile.

Retracting her hand away from her chin, she walked over to where the painting had stood with the holder, and finally came to accept the painting for what it is.. I mean, she had her moments of acceptance; this time though, she really accepted and liked the painting for good.

It was only then the door to her small, cozy art studio had opened.. She wonders who could've entered.