Blush of Beauty and a Starforce Collision
It was the voice of a young woman. Probably the makeup artist that Director Yoo had mentioned earlier. Yeah, had to be.
“Come in.”
“Sure~”
The woman who opened the door and stepped in matched her voice perfectly—a young woman, though she looked a bit older than me. Her vibe screamed makeup artist at first glance, and sure enough, that's exactly what she was.
“Oh, hi! I'm here to do your makeup.”
“Ah, yeah. Thanks.”
Getting a light touch-up before a broadcast or match was standard procedure. Back in the day, I'd wondered why a guy needed makeup, but now I knew it was just courtesy.
Well, not that I was a guy anymore.
“Have you already done your makeup? Did someone else come by before me?”
What kind of dumb question was that?
“Your skin is so fair.”
“Huh? No, this is my bare face.”
She started saying weird stuff, and I responded in confusion. She looked mildly shocked, then came closer to inspect my face.
“No way, for real? Wow, do I even need to do makeup?”
“Is that an option?”
That'd be convenient for me.
Honestly, I'd been questioning whether this face even needed makeup myself.
“Nah, can't skip it—I'm here to work. But in this condition, we don't need anything heavy. Just a light touch-up?”
“I don't know much, so do whatever you think.”
“You haven't learned makeup yet? That's surprising. Okay, sit here, face the mirror, close your eyes, and stay still.”
To her, I probably just looked like an ordinary girl, so admitting I didn't know makeup might seem odd.
I obediently closed my eyes and let her hands work. She'd said it'd be light, but she started fiddling with all sorts of things, chatting as she went.
“Wow, you're gorgeous. Are you a streamer? I don't think I've seen you around in my line of work.”
She didn't even consider pro gamer. Not surprising.
“Not a streamer. Hmm, my identity's a secret for now. Watch the broadcast later and find out.”
“Ooh, now I'm curious. No spoiler for your unnie?”
Unnie...? That threw me off, and I froze for a second.
Super friendly women like her were honestly overwhelming. Seohui was younger than me, but this one was clearly older.
Maybe because I didn't have a mom growing up, but older women made me a bit uncomfortable.
“It's more fun if you don't know.”
“Bummer.”
Thankfully, she didn't push further. Pros knew how to keep it polite without crossing lines.
“All done! Kept it light, but your base is so good it turned out amazing. You can open your eyes now!”
I opened them without thinking—and lost my words.
It wasn't like there was a stranger in the mirror. It was me. Obviously me, but still... me.
I wasn't speechless for any deep reason.
“Whoa, I'm drop-dead gorgeous.”
I'd just blurted it out because... I was that pretty.
“Haha, saying it about yourself? So confident!”
“Ah—uh—no, I—I meant—”
Her words snapped me back. I'd said that out loud about my own face? Total axe-murderer vibes, like some crazy chick. My face burned red.
“I-I meant your skills are incredible.”
Rather than backpedal, I credited her. It was true, and not wrong.
But she saw it differently.
“I barely did anything. It's all you.”
No way.
Sure, my bare face was pretty, but now? It was... strikingly eye-catching pretty.
The kind that drew stares from anyone. Her talent made it pop like that—undeniable skill.
“Anyway, gorgeous girl, nail the broadcast today. Hit me up next time you're around; I'll make you even prettier.”
“...Yeah.”
Thankfully, she left without teasing my flustered, blushing self more. She tossed a joke on her way out, but after that makeup, it was forgivable.
Embarrassing, but true.
...That I was pretty.
Then a loud voice from outside:
“Oh! If you yawn or tear up, call me back! I'm in the end room.”
I'd been staring mesmerized in the mirror, and jumped away in shock. Yeah, good thing no one saw that.
...Seriously, phew.
The waiting room monitor was playing the broadcast. It had started, but my turn was still a ways off. A staffer popped in while we waited.
As showtime neared, tension built—no escaping that. Suddenly, I felt the urge to pee.
I headed out. Plenty of time left, but I didn't want to leave the room otherwise—biology didn't care.
Thankfully, no one on the way to the bathroom. Until the way back.
After washing up, tension eased—maybe why I missed the presence right beside me. Turning toward the room, I nearly crashed into a massive figure.
“Kyaa!”
A girly scream escaped before I knew it. I stumbled back but caught my balance—no fall, but that shriek? Mortifying.
“Uh—s-sorry! You okay?”
Hands reached to steady me with an apology. I stared blankly, then looked up at the owner.
It was
“Ah, yeah. I'm fine.”
Starforce Gaming's top laner, Slice, Kang Hanche.
She awkwardly withdrew her hand when I didn't take it.
Realizing it was Slice, I sighed inwardly in relief. Good, not Proud. I'd just kyaa'd like an idiot.
If that hand had been Proud's—the one I'd grabbed before—I'd have wanted to die. But no.
What the hell was that kyaa, damn it.
Still, Slice was Starforce too. No desire to linger face-to-face. I'd just get intimidated. Her build was intimidating—what did she eat to get like that?
Kaiser, Kang Hayun, was similar.
“See ya.”
“W-Wait!”
Her voice called from behind, but I ignored it and bolted. Whatever she wanted, it wouldn't benefit me. Rude? Maybe, but that's all I could think.
Walking back, something nagged like I'd forgotten... but it wouldn't come. I hurried to the room, caught my breath, and watched the broadcast.
I remembered Arang begging for Slice's autograph way later.
“Why're you just standing there?”
“...Hey, Choi Seon-il. See that girl I almost bumped into?”
“Yeah. Your size probably blocked her view.”
She hadn't even glanced their way.
“She's insanely pretty, right? Damn, should've asked her name.”
“Eh. She just ignored you and left.”
“Still. How can you say 'eh' to that? Idol? Girl group member? Gotta be at least that level.”
“She was pretty. Sure.”
That all?
“Tsk tsk, typical Choi Seon-il. You love LoE more than girls.”
“I like girls too.”
“Keep it moderate, monk. You're basically celibate. Girl or LoE? You'd pick LoE.”
“I'm a pro.”
“...Guess I'm not. Sorry.”
“If MSC Phantom isn't a pro, who is? Anyway, I'm not disinterested in girls. I have a type.”
Sort of.
“Who's your type? If not her, who?”
“A girl better at LoE than me.”
“Crazy bastard. Just say none.”
“Kidding.”
Halfway.
“Say that in your interview later. Hilarious.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, idiot. Oh, next segment soon. Dice comeback for real?”
“Asked the PD earlier. No answer.”
“Weird. You asking that?”
“It's Dice.”
Seo Yeonwoo.
“Still hung up on that?”
“Maybe.”
“Why bother? She probably wants you to forget. Let it go. She retired right after—not your fault.”
Probably.
I knew, but...
His gaze drifted to where that girl had vanished.
Pretended not to care, but it bugged him a bit.
Her looks? Nah, not quite.
Why, though? No clue.
Damn, should've asked for her autograph when I had the chance.
Realizing I'd had Slice right there and bolted—missed it—I was full of regret.
Chance of a lifetime.
After the broadcast? When my identity's out?
No way I'd face Proud then, even by accident. Not thick-skinned enough to brazenly ask Slice for a sig in front of him.
That was the perfect, one-time shot to fulfill Arang's request—and I'd forgotten, kicking it away myself.
Not like I had to do it. If opportunity arose, great; else, whatever.
Not fulfilling one request wasn't a big deal. Arang might sulk, but she'd get over it quick.
It just felt off because I'd kyaa'd in panic, then blanked on what I should've done.
Embarrassing, from my own view.
Sorry, Arang. Get Slice's sig yourself later.
I tried my best.
Did jack shit, really.
I turned to the monitor. The segment before mine was wrapping up; short break soon. Time to prep.
Perfect timing—a knock. Outside was the PD, one of the few who knew my secret.
“Ready?”
“Yeah.”
Showtime.