Hi folks, I have read some of Elsa and OC fics and I was not satisfied that there weren't enough modern guy travels back to Arendelle.

So Here you go. And also, I will be conducting some experimental methods that I wanted to try out so bear with me.

Your review and fave always encourages to write another chapter, so if you can please leave a review. It only takes less than a minute. One minute is short

but there are so many things going on in a minute around the globe.

new life is born and old life dies every minute.

Moon rotated the earth every minute.

people share videos and texts every minute.

You can help me by sparing a one simple minute.

Again please review.

Thank you in advance.


Well, my family is sort of different from others out there. Because my Korean mother, Susan who worked as a multilingual translator, somehow married to a a Russian guy named Viktor who worked as some high pay grade business man. And so, they had me after a year of their marriage.

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Derreck.

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That's my name. Pretty boring, I know. And three year after that, they had my glorious brother who always somehow wraps himself with girls, Anthone. My parents were strict about education, which my brother followed it gracefully.

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But in my case, No. I was straight down horrible at study.

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When my brother is having straight As, my best was B and others were all Cs.

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From the beginning, I knew I had no interest in math and literature because my mind was only focused on arts.

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Drawing was my everything. It meant the world to me! My parents knew this and loathed my drawings.

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When I was little I used to draw about many things. Mostly robot and weapons just like all boys liked but I also drew something new, something imaginative and creative. I often draw a lengthy cartoon series, creating and thinking about a new story or new ideas to draw.

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To express my thoughts in to beautiful arts.

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The downside was, I was thinking too much, and that often got me in to troubles. Such as not paying attention to the class. Or not paying attention to my surrounding.

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Sometimes people made fun of me because when I think, I just do nothing but stares at the ground. Calling me a down syndrome or like something.

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So, I had to face the fact that I had no real friends. No friends to talk about or share my thoughts.

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My parents saw this and decided to push me harder on education, thinking that if I become too busy, I might not think about anything.

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But that showed little to no effect. When my father knew this he came in to my room and ripped off all the drawings and work I have done. He yelled at me about how stupid and useless I am while my brother is getting a scholarship. And my mother, she did nothing to stop him. Instead she was calling hospital to contact a therapist.

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From that moment, when all my work that I have collected, all the art that I poured my heart and soul in to was ripped off like as if was a piece of trash, my world collapsed with it. And I was only 16. The shock and sorrow swallowed me. I didn't know what to do then.

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I honestly didn't know how to continue my life because I just lost everything. All my stuff now only lingered in my head. I wanted to get them out again. To once again express my nature through plane of paper and pencil, but all I able to draw was endless numbers. After that incident, my parents restricted me almost everything.

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They took away my car, most of my empty papers.

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They had banned me to go anywhere. I was to stay in my room. Thankfully that really didn't matter that much because I was never a social one anyway. It would be my brother.

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There was nothing in my room except my old computer. It was not until a month later I finally found my solution. Computer! Digital art! Why haven't I think of that yet?! My parents knew nothing about 3D. That meant I can create my world as in virtual reality!

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That excited me the most. From that moment I begin to hone my skill at night when nobody is awake, and do what they expect me to do at day. It went on for 2years, after that time, I have realized that my computer is struggling to follow my developing skills.

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I needed a better computer, but I could not ask my parents to give me couple thousand dollars. That was way too risky. From that day, I needed a job.

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When my parents saw me doing half-time jobs, they were half mad and confused. They told me why I didn't ask for money, and to keep my secrets, I lied to them. When my brother was gaining what he wanted through my parents, and when he learned from my parents, I was quite the opposite. I did in my way. And through mistakes, I learned to help myself.

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My brother was always under the guidance of my parents. He was... A proud boy in a way of speaking. Me? When I worked outside, I learned things. I learned to smoke, to drink… and finally… meth. I became different. I was once so naïve, and didn't know anything about anything, now I was a drug addict. When I finally bought a computer, things did not go as I expected. My parents discovered my computer and they begin to throw me an ocean of questions. They wanted the truth. Well... No more lies.

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I did what I had to do. I told them the truth. They asked for it.

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When they heard my story, they were absolutely terrified. They called me a shame of my family or something but that didn't bother me. I knew I had changed when my grandparents passed away because when everyone was crying, I felt nothing.

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My mind was empty and devoid of any emotions. What mattered to me was the next part. You are not allowed to enter my house until you put some sense to your head! They told me.

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That day, my computer was taken away from me. Once again, everything I made, was wasted effort.

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Like that, I was thrown outside with nothing. I had no car like my brother, no place to stay, and no computer. All I had was my phone but that was useless too for I had no one to contact. So only thing that was useful was my wallet that held some money.

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I remember the day that I first hold my gun.

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I was 23 back then.


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This...was supposed to be my cure.

The world blacked out.

It went quick as I thought. There was quick jab of pain on forehead, but after that, everything was clear like a crystal ice. I felt nothing after that. It was... Satisfying.

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I could feel the weight of the tigger pushing towards my gun. Cold sweat poured down on me like a rain. Each of them crushing me with its weight. I felt heavier and heavier. But no. I caused all this. I should have stopped when they told me. I could have been like my brother... Again. It was too late for turning back. I hated my brother anyway.

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I could see my all work shreded like it was just another piece of trash infront of me as if it just happened. How can they not see it? How can they not even understand their own son! All the people around me, they never gave me a shit about what I drew or make. They don't see arts is something that you pour your blood to sharpen it, just like everyother. They see it as a waste of time and waste of resource. I hated it. But there was nothing I can do about it. I tried so hard to show them and convince them. But they did not change. All they cared about was politics and numbers, and when I talked about my drawings and whatnot, they often punished me for doing stupid things. My brother? He didn't even defended me. Only thing that he cares about was himself. I loathed my family. I knew this day would come. Just didn't know this early or...late. There was no really a point to live on.

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I raised my gun to my forehead. The gun was cold. And so am I.

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I just wanted to kill them all with my weapon. Shoot them in their head, their heart. Kill them in cold blood for what they did to me. But what then? What am I going to do after that? There was no point of shooting my family. I'll only be the bad guy. When I die, I really hope nobody finds me ever. I didn't even existed from my birth.

I feel the cold hard handle of my pistol its polymer frame now covered in sweat dripping down.

The ally was quiet. It was surrounded by serenity. So peaceful. It has been a good day of my life, and this ally seemed to be waiting for my body to fall with blood. As if angel of death would swoop me down.

It was the first time I held a gun. I have drawn many weapons but to hold one on my hand, well ot was certainly different. Too bad that it will be also the last time I will be holding it.

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I was 23back then.

This was supposed to be my cure.


Chapter one_ Step 20.