I have one of those faces. The kind of ones that people forget. The unremarkable. The average. If you put me in a crowd, you will lose me, dare I say forever.

The thing is, I was someone a long time ago. In fact, that is the kind of life that is blurry in my memory. I know I was loved. I know I was revered. I know that I was popular. They loved me. I was greeted with smiling visages, honeyed words, and loving gazes. I was on top of the world.

I was also devilishly handsome. Women of all ages would fawn over me.

Unlike now, where I am deprived of a second glance.

How do you think one so stunningly breathtaking could end up in such a pitiful state? Well, I was cursed. She was a crazy woman. I told her, 'Dear madam, forgive me, but I cannot return your feelings.' I was pretty kind about it.

And then all hell broke loose.

She screamed and kicked my shin. An unmanly wail left me, and I fell. You see, this woman was quite strong. I had heard well before her confession that she had the power to defeat ten men. Extrapolating from this rumor, I was more than happy that my bones were intact. I despise her, so I will refrain from taking her name. We'll simply call her 'Witch' because that is exactly who she was; when I'm particularly angry at her, I'll call her 'Ugly Witch'.

So when Witch bellowed, the windows of my manor shattered, and the heavy wooden doors trembled. It was too late to do anything. The words she spoke still haunt me at night: People you meet throughout the day will forget about you at dusk. Your face will be forgettable. Everyone will forget you!

Ugly Witch then left. Had I known that her curse would ring true, I would have chased her, swallowed my pride, and fallen to my knees. I would have even gone as far as accepting her confession. Pride holds little space when one is pushed into a corner.

Instead, I let her walk away. Well, she stormed out, costing me a fortune. My poor windows, I'd thought.

The next morning, I was kicked out of bed by my own servant. In rage, I walked to my parents and complained about the lowborn. To my surprise, my mother, the one who would always love to hug me, to kiss me, said, stone-faced, 'What is this nobody doing in our parlour!'

After that day, I started going by the name Nobody.

If anyone would be gracious enough to ask for my name, I'd say, 'I am Nobody.' They would give me a sad look and say, 'No one is a nobody. Tell me your name.'

I'd think: You won't remember it anyway.

I'd shake my head and say, 'I'm sorry, but I am Nobody.'

It's quite a sad story. I know. I might be pleased if you shed a tear or two, but please, kindly keep your trap shut if you want to say something like 'you know, he had it coming.'

Negativity is banned for the sake of my sanity.

After reading my sob story, you might think I would have lived a miserable life, as Ugly Witch had probably intended. Unfortunately for her, I am perfectly fine. Even if I feel the opposite, I will vehemently say that I am. In fact, I'll say that I'm freaking happy! The happiest I've ever been.

What does that witch think of herself!

I was the epitome of a raging young man.

Anyway, I left my thriving town and moved to the city. It was a decision I had made out of desperation. The familiar people walking past me without sparing me a glance drove a knife into my heart.

I wish I could blame the people who'd once known me; one time, I looked at my own face in a darkened glass panel. A moment later, I looked away. If one were to ask me to describe some physical features of mine, I'd say, 'I don't know.' And you'd bet that I truly mean it because my face would be marked with confusion, all scrunched up as I tried desperately to remember.

Sometimes, I surprise myself by how plain I've become.

With my rant and your preconceived notions, you'd think being a nobody is bad.

I beg to differ.

It's so good that you'll want to be one.