Top Bride Material
The sudden controversy over streamers transferring platforms after Twish’s shutdown.
For all the hype it generated, the whole thing fizzled out surprisingly fast.
Every problem that had cropped up on Twish got resolved, and the streamers who’d been fretting over a move no longer had any reason to leave.
To the people watching from the sidelines it was an oddly anticlimactic ending—bland, even. But for streamers like me it was the best possible outcome. In industry speak: a massive win.
Just deciding on a new platform and announcing it already meant carrying a ton of risk. Honestly, the pressure had been crushing.
Some streamers had been so tangled up in the dilemma they couldn’t even stream properly. Ririyang had been so stressed she’d gone on hiatus and called me for advice—that said everything.
I was no iron-willed warrior either. I never showed it, but those last few days of streaming hadn’t been easy. Mediating viewers who were hopping platforms and brawling in chat, all while endlessly second-guessing which choice was better…
In the end I did make a decision, but it wasn’t one I was a hundred percent happy with. So the fact that I no longer had to announce anything felt like the ideal situation. Of course, if I had to choose under the exact same conditions again, I’d pick the same thing.
Anyway, it had only been a week, but that week had been exhausting. A nonstop gauntlet of headaches. Too many things to worry about—even while streaming I’d felt like I was floating somewhere outside my own body.
So I declared a break. Reason: mental burnout from all the stress. Viewers who normally would’ve rioted with “Quit whining and turn the stream on” actually seemed to accept it this time and kept quiet.
Or maybe they were just so hyped that Twish had come back from the dead that they let it slide. Right now Twish was in full festival mode after its near-death experience.
What do streamers do on hiatus? More specifically, what do I do on hiatus? A surprising number of my viewers are weirdly curious about that.
Bottom line: nothing special compared to anyone else. What do normal people do on their days off? Spend time alone, meet friends, go on trips—that sort of thing. Same for me.
“So that’s what happened.”
“Yeah. It was a real mess. Glad it worked out.”
I was catching up with one of my few real-life acquaintances, telling her about the recent chaos.
Twish’s near-collapse, the rising new force called Jijijik that appeared in its wake, and the old powerhouse Daeryuk that refused to be outdone—stories about all of it.
She listened with genuine interest. I’d stripped out most of the internet slang so an outsider could follow, yet her comprehension was still impressive. Considering her age, even more so. Maybe she was just naturally sharp.
The list of people I’d actually meet in private on a day off was tiny to begin with. The number of those who could be called “young” was even smaller. By that point the answer was obvious.
“What about you, Sihyeon? How’ve you been?”
Sihyeon—my neighborhood friend even though more than ten years separated us by the calendar.
The reason she could hang out with me in the middle of a weekday afternoon was simple. She was enjoying that privilege only little kids still have, the one fully grown adults have long since lost: summer vacation.
She sucked thoughtfully on the banana milk I’d bought her, choosing her words carefully. Those soft, puffy kid cheeks looked even rounder than usual—I had the sudden urge to pinch and stretch them.
“I’m doing my vacation homework.”
“Vacation homework?”
Right—that was a thing. Vacation homework. The words alone were pure nostalgia.
Once you hit middle school you were too busy with advanced prep to bother with “vacation homework,” but Sihyeon didn’t have anyone breathing down her neck about grades, so maybe that pressure never reached her.
“Vacation homework—like what? Diary entries? Reading books?”
“Those are both on there, but there’s more. Want me to show you?”
She pulled out her phone, opened the memo app, and showed me the list of assignments.
“That’s… more than I expected.”
I stuck my tongue out a little at the surprisingly long list. Diary writing, reading a book and writing a report, planning and doing exercise that suited her—the usual. Of course, skipping elementary-school vacation homework never actually got anyone in trouble. Still, the sheer volume was impressive enough that I scanned the list with real curiosity.
“What’s this one?”
Then I spotted something interesting and pointed at it.
“Cook a meal for your family?”
They gave kids assignments like this these days? It looked like the kind of task meant to make them realize housework wasn’t easy and feel grateful to whoever usually handled the meals.
“It’s one of the free-choice assignments. I picked that one.”
“Why?”
I checked the list again after she said that. Sure enough, there were tons of optional tasks.
Some were so easy they’d be called free wins—draw three different kinds of triangles, that sort of thing. So why had Sihyeon chosen “cook for your family,” which actually required some effort?
When I asked, she answered with complete confidence.
“Because Grandma and Uncle never let me cook!”
“Ahh, that makes sense.”
The reason was clear enough. Cooking inevitably meant fire. No matter how mature Sihyeon acted, she was still a little kid. Letting a child near an open flame would make anyone nervous.
But this time neither Grandma nor Uncle could stop her. It wasn’t just “I want to”—it was official vacation homework. She’d played the system pretty cleverly.
Even so, it was still dangerous, and I felt a twinge of worry. She’d have to be careful not to burn herself. Well, I trusted Mr. Kim Jaejun would keep a close eye on things.
I was nodding along to that thought when Sihyeon, who’d been chattering about homework and cooking, casually asked:
“Hey, Unnie.”
“Yeah?”
“Are you good at cooking…?”
“Me?”
Looking at the sparkling eyes fixed on me, I immediately understood why the kid was asking.
Sihyeon had zero cooking experience. Which meant she probably wasn’t great at it. And she still had to feed her family. In short: she needed a teacher.
“Ha.”
A small snort of laughter escaped. Cooking, huh. I couldn’t exactly claim to be a master, but I wasn’t bad either.
I’d been living alone for years. You could only order delivery for so long before you started cooking for yourself. At this point, not knowing how to cook simply wasn’t an option.
I could just teach Sihyeon. If I stood right beside her and walked her through it, there wouldn’t be any real danger.
And at the same time, a brilliant idea hit me. Stream the whole cooking session with Sihyeon live.
Lately my streams had been nothing but Abyss, Abyss, Abyss. Viewers might not say it out loud, but deep down they had to be craving different content. A cooking stream with Sihyeon was the perfect opportunity.
“So today’s stream is a cooking stream. Simple, right?”
“Anyway, we’ve got a guest today and she’s young, so keep the chat clean. Anyone who crosses the line gets banned.”
After a quick explanation of why we were doing a cooking stream, I moved straight to the next step.
“Alright, here’s today’s student who’s going to learn cooking from me and actually cook herself—Sihyeon!”
“Hello!”
I gave her the signal to greet them. She clasped both hands at her navel and bowed neatly at the waist.
The viewers, properly warned in advance, responded with nothing but goodwill.
“I’ve been living alone for years—of course I’m good. Don’t you worry.”
“They say Unnie is top bride material.”
“You don’t have to read those chats, Sihyeon.”
Chat flooded with things like “This kid’s a natural on stream lmao.” I’d introduced Sihyeon and explained the content, so it was time for the next step.
“Alright, I’m going to change into something more cooking-stream appropriate. Give me a second.”
If we were doing this, we were doing it properly—I’d prepared for this too. After putting everything on according to plan, I had Sihyeon stand in front of the camera first.
A classic white chef’s hat, white apron, white gloves—plus a little frying pan and spatula.
Sihyeon had put on every single piece and was striking a solemn pose in front of the camera. I’d set the whole stage for her, yet she didn’t look the least bit embarrassed. Maybe she was just born for the camera.
And since Sihyeon had gone first, now it was my turn.
I hadn’t put nearly as much thought into my costume as she had. Just a colorful apron that covered everything in front and a pair of sanitary gloves.
They wouldn’t flame me for looking too casual next to her… right? With a faint flutter of anxiety I stepped in front of the camera.
“Unnie, people are saying you’re top bride material!”
“You don’t have to read those chats…”