Chapter 99
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 99
Chapter Title: Bluebean
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Bluebean.
The world's top animation studio, the one that made kids' hearts race not just in America but all around the globe.
A lot of Bluebean's animations were in musical format.
You could tell just from all the songs sprinkled throughout the movies, dripping with that signature Bluebean emotion and vibe.
"Why are you asking? Is it weird that I like Bluebean?"
Ah, I needed to answer quick.
No need to pull out the question mark murderer routine again.
"No. The stickers are cute. They kinda look unique, too."
It wasn't empty flattery.
Maybe because they were Song Ha-na's, but even though they were made from familiar characters, the stickers somehow looked even better.
"Yeah. Oppa went on a business trip to Bluebean HQ and brought back some unreleased merch from Korea."
Ah, so they weren't just looking good—they were the real deal.
How many unreleased items was that now?
I was too scared to ask how she even got stickers on her laptop.
Bluebean HQ... I didn't even know where that was.
"This is unreleased merch too..."
In a complete departure from her usual self, Song Ha-na seemed a bit excited as she pulled a pencil case from her bag.
Even the stationery inside was all unreleased merch.
I'd never seen Song Ha-na brag about money, but she really wanted to show this stuff off.
I'd rarely seen her boast about anything like this, so I decided to humor her all the way.
I didn't really get what made it so great, so I just gave simple reactions, but she seemed satisfied that someone was listening.
"I'm having dinner this weekend with the new chief designer they just hired."
As she packed the merch away, she tossed it out casually, trying to play it cool—but she wasn't great at hiding it.
Got it. Dinner with Bluebean's chief designer.
She looked so proud; it must be a big deal.
I nodded with a now-enlightened expression.
I had no idea Song Ha-na was this huge Bluebean fan.
Honestly, it was surprising.
"So, you're basically a Bluebean expert, huh?"
"Of course. I've seen everything."
Bluebean, huh.
Not a bad choice.
That unique Bluebean atmosphere and emotion.
They had massive domestic fans, and going international could work too.
If we nailed it, it could blow up on YouTube.
"I just thought of a reference for our video this time."
"Bluebean?"
Song Ha-na, as expected.
Her instincts were razor-sharp.
It wasn't like we were doing this for profit anyway.
Just mentioning Bluebean was a huge draw.
"Yeah. A Bluebean cover."
"But is that okay? Would adults watch Bluebean stuff? Might narrow our audience too much."
I shook my head firmly at her worried look.
"Flip it around: we'd lock in all the Bluebean fans for sure."
Target everyone on YouTube?
That was the dumbest move possible.
Better to nail a specific audience and own it.
"For this assignment, there's something even more important than the video content."
"What? Isn't the content the most important?"
"Of course that's key. But first, we need people to actually click on it."
In other words, hook 'em.
Years later, it became basic knowledge even for non-creators.
It'd been less than a day.
Since hearing about YouTube in Moon Kang-hyun's class today.
Still, Song Ha-na frowned slightly at my confident tone, like I knew YouTube inside out.
But she didn't argue, so I must've been convincing.
"No matter how well we nail the number, it doesn't matter if no one clicks in, right?"
"Yeah... I guess...?"
"What if we base it on Bluebean but twist it into our own unique concept with new lyrics? What do you think?"
It was subtly enticing.
Song Ha-na pondered for a bit before replying.
"You're right—Bluebean fans would click for sure. I'd click too if some pretty girl was covering a Bluebean song with her own spin."
Hm.
That wasn't quite what I meant, but...
It wasn't wrong either, so...
No need to correct her.
As she said, Song Ha-na's looks and skills were a massive edge on their own.
Still, the conversation flowed so well.
No need for extra explanations—she got it right away.
Working with Song Ha-na was just easy in every way.
Especially with her quick, objective thinking.
"It won't be easy. Could add pressure. If it's not perfect, Bluebean's rep could backfire on us."
She had a point.
Bluebean songs were hits from the start.
Tons of covers already out there.
We'd need real originality and solid execution.
"What could we do? Something to pull in Bluebean fans without overlapping others—total originality. Any ideas?"
Song Ha-na thought for a moment, then snapped her laptop shut and stood up.
Did she get something? That fast?
"You think ideas come from sitting still in this practice room? Let's not waste time—think on your own until tomorrow's practice."
...Seventeen and already this sharp.
So convenient.
"Yeah. Sitting around isn't always the answer."
***
It was already the second weekend since school started.
I hadn't gone home last week because of volunteering at the nursing home, so I'd come back this time.
Next week, subject tests would start one by one, and it'd get busier.
"I'll do the dishes."
"Ugh, really. You don't have to."
"It's fun. Feels like I'm washing away with the plates or something."
After dinner, I got up as usual and said it deadpan. Mom laughed like she'd surrendered and headed to the living room.
"You're too much. Fine, Mom'll rest then?"
"Yeah, yeah. Take it easy."
As I clattered through the dishes, old memories bubbled up.
I used to hate doing them.
Now, I was just grateful.
A way to repay my parents' hard work.
Each rinse felt like scrubbing away guilt.
Ding-ding.
Then, a phone ringtone chimed from the living room.
"Do-hyun! Phone!"
Dad came running with my phone.
Who'd make him sprint like that?
I shut off the faucet and turned to him.
"Who is it? Why the rush?"
I peeled off the rubber gloves and checked the screen: Lee Cheong-ha.
"Lee Cheong-ha... isn't that a girl?"
No wonder he was excited.
Get a grip, Dad.
Might hang up—answered quick.
Dad hovered, leaning in toward the phone at my ear.
"Hey, Cheong-ha."
- Do-hyun. What're you up to?
"Doing dishes. What's up?"
- ...Hey. Got any plans today?
"Dunno. Nothing set yet."
- I got movie tickets. Wanna go?
"Movie? What movie?"
I asked, thinking it'd been ages since I saw one. Dad whispered urgently beside me.
"Does it matter what?"
He smacked my back excitedly at "movie," grinning.
Ow, too hard.
How'd he hear that?
- Um. Evening Market Girl? Movie based on a French novel.
Evening Market Girl? That fairy tale one?
Perfect timing—I needed Bluebean refs anyway, and this vibe fit.
"Sure. What time?"
We set a time, made plans with Lee Cheong-ha quick, and hung up.
But the second I did, Dad yanked off both rubber gloves and untied my apron.
"What're you...?"
"Stop that. Go wash up and change."
"This outfit's fine, no?"
Time was short; this was my plan.
Dad eyed my clothes.
Knee-ripped sweats, hoodie—my usual.
"Son. At least cover the knee."
Ah. Finally looked down.
When'd it rip that bad?
Worn it too much.
"Isn't the face the finishing touch? I look good in anything..."
Dad grabbed my soapy gloves and yanked the pants right off.
***
The theater buzzed, popcorn scent hitting from afar.
Next door, the arcade blared game sounds.
Couples killing time before the movie crammed in, glued together playing.
First time at a theater since regressing.
2015 theaters felt just like this—lost in nostalgia, I gawked like a newbie.
"Do-hyun! Here!"
Lee Cheong-ha, already there, spotted me and jumped, waving wildly.
Impossible to miss.
Folks around smiled at her cuteness.
Guess it was fine.
"You got here early?"
Hurried over.
I'd come early too, but didn't expect her first.
"Yeah! Bus timing worked out!"
She looked thrilled, gazing up expectantly.
"What?"
"Anything different about me today?"
"Hm..."
Heard this was a trick question.
What was different...
"Jeez. Don't look so clueless."
I hesitated too long; she pouted.
"Look closer."
Even then... no clue.
She seemed disappointed at my silence, so I squinted harder.
She glanced away awkwardly.
"Sorry. Really don't see it."
Thirty-three or seventeen, still clueless on this stuff.
Sorry, regression didn't fix it.
She cleared her throat awkwardly.
"Ahem. I did makeup. You can't even tell?"
Now I saw it, looking close.
Skin, eyes, lips—not heavy, but definite.
I stared, picking it apart silently; she peeked up anxiously.
"Weird?"
"No. Not weird."
"Then?"
"Think you'd look better without. Prettier at school."
Meant it.
Purely, at eighteen, she was pretty bare-faced.
Guys or girls—overdoing it backfired.
Clear skin, young—natural was best.
Was this old-man thinking?
"P-Popcorn. Let's get popcorn."
Face flushing, she bolted to the counter, thinking.
Man, feels hot in here.