Now, I Won't Let You Go Anymore
'Wha… what's going on? Why is she suddenly like that?'
I stared blankly at RenaPpi's stream, where she was sobbing uncontrollably, my mind completely dumbfounded. The chat window was flooding with question marks due to the utterly sudden event.
She just kept sobbing and mumbling incomprehensible words.
"Wha… what do I do, how… aaah… I, I… y-you… aaahhh…!!!"
…
At that moment, a single thought popped into my head.
No way… did she recognize my donation…?
But that thought deflated like a punctured balloon, dissipating into thin air. I let out a hollow chuckle.
Such childish self-importance was only forgivable up to high school. How many people would hold onto a donation from someone over a year ago in their heart?
Besides, at that moment, mine wasn't the only donation. Trivial spam donations were flying in before and after mine. Right after she burst into tears, there was even a 1,000-won punch: [?? What happened??].
For big corporate streamers, donations pour in even with just chat-only mode. It was a stretch to say she'd singled out mine.
So… why was she acting like that? Did a bug really crawl out? Honestly, the only way to explain this baffling situation was something like a cockroach suddenly appearing in front of her.
Would this scene become a clip circulating later…? Famous streamers' broadcasts got clipped into bits, picked up by popular clippers, and turned into standalone funny videos to spread everywhere. This was especially prominent in the virtual streamer scene.
Hakko streamers often got famous clippers attached, boosting their recognition—and vice versa. If RenaPpi, at the pinnacle of all virtual streamers, created this kind of unexpected moment?
Even I, who'd been in a coma for a year, could guess the title: [RenaPpi Sudden Breakdown lololol] or [RenaPpi Encounters Uninvited Guest (Coc*roach)]. Something like that. I was witnessing it live.
But—doesn't that feel off? "What do I do" is one thing, but "I, you"…?
Right as that thought crossed my mind, the screen went black, and RenaPpi vanished. Then big English letters appeared: No Signal.
Soon after, the screen froze on a smiling RenaPpi with a speech bubble: [See you next time!]. The stream had ended.
The chat scrolled even faster than when the stream started—several times faster. Viewer count wasn't dropping despite the end; it was actually rising slightly.
RenaPpi had started streaming just moments ago and suddenly sobbed and vanished.
What the hell is this…
I sat there dazed in the chat for a while, then thought,
No point sticking around.
I left RenaPpi's stream and went back to the Prwichi TV lobby screen. Couldn't waste more PC bang time on this.
Well, at least she's insanely successful now. Good for her.
The last person I met before "dying"—if you ignore the premise that meetings require face-to-face—was RenaPpi, or rather RenaP back then.
She resembled me in many ways. A streamer who'd hustled for 100 days with zero viewers. Me, who'd poured my all into love for over a decade only to be betrayed.
Not weighing the severity, but that feeling of giving your all with no reward. No one looking your way in the end. I empathized, projected onto her.
That's why I did the broadcast tutorial, uncharacteristically. Wished her well. Thought it was my final good deed and gave her all 1.649 million won.
And then a year passed. While I failed at dying and wasted time in a coma, the girl I'd arbitrarily overlapped with my life had rocketed to Korea's top spot, shining brighter than anyone like a brilliant star.
Really glad for her.
Feeling proud now, arbitrarily, was a bit shameless. Even setting aside that I gave her money—I hadn't cheered her on once in that year.
Still, it was crystal clear: her success gave me more courage than ever.
Yeah. Since I'm alive anyway, no more complaints. Let the river take my past life, sacrifices, all that shell. Job hunt again—part-time interviews, site gigs, scour carefully.
32 isn't too late to start. No point slumping in self-pity. Like RenaPpi, who didn't quit after 100 viewerless days and became the undisputed superstar.
I can do it too.
I felt grateful to RenaPpi. It was probably just my whim, wanting to do a good deed… but I felt like I'd received something more valuable than what I gave her.
Let's live hard again. No time for internet broadcasts soon. Gotta hustle this new life—no streaming detours.
But when life hits a comma, when I look back thinking I've done well—donate to her stream then.
Won't see RenaPpi till then, but whatever she's doing, hope she nails it. I thought that, arbitrarily.
Time to go.
I closed Prwichi and tidied up.
…Or tried to.
Huh?
> [1:1 chat request received.]
As I went to close Prwichi, a popup caught my eye. Thought it was an ad at first—no one would request a 1:1 with me.
But it was legit Prwichi UI. Curiosity clicked it.
> [Accept 1:1 chat request?]
> [Chat partner: RenaPpi (RenaP_S2_owo)]
…Huh?
…Wait. RenaPpi? Same nickname? But the account and ID matched the one that just streamed.
I accepted.
Wha…t?
Dumbfounded, she hammered away like there was no tomorrow. I could feel her desperation through the typing.
Cold sweat trickled down my spine. This woman… remembered me…?
Panicking, I blurted "No it's not," but it was pointless. Tracking a 1.65 million donor's ID log? Easy.
But… I froze, speechless.
Wait.
So… her breakdown earlier was really because she recognized my donation? The one buried in spam: [No Emotional Blackmail]?!
As if reading my mind, RenaPpi kept typing furiously.
Why did her avatar flash in my mind then—eyes sparkling like suns, hearts floating, staring right at me?
And then.
After over a year had flowed by, it was only now—in this moment—that we reunited in the real sense.