VTuber Prep!
"Haa... This isn't it. Something... something about it just doesn't fit."
Lee Boram, a student at K-Art University, clutched at her hair as she stared at the blank white glow of her monitor. Bloodshot veins already webbed her eyes; she glared at the screen so hard it looked like they might burst at any second.
"This is wrong! This doesn't suit Jiwoo at all! Again! I have to draw it again!"
It had already been nearly two months since she first met Jiwoo and found the courage to believe she could do something of her own. The moment she heard that Jiwoo's dream was to become a VTuber, she had thrown herself into studying virtual software, determined to make her a gift. She had started so boldly.
The result was a perfectly empty white monitor.
"Let's just take a break."
Boram grabbed her phone, restless. If she didn't shake off the frustration, nothing good would come of the drawing no matter how long she sat there. And this wasn't just anyone. She could not show Jiwoo garbage.
"Wait... just now..."
She usually dug through NewTube for reference material, and this time was no different. As she scrolled for research, a familiar figure jumped out of a thumbnail.
"No matter how you look at it, that's Jiwoo."
The thumbnail showed a woman, her face blurred. Boram knew better. She worked weekend shifts with Jiwoo just to scrape together allowance, keep drawing, and pay the monthly app subscription. Mosaic or no mosaic, there was no hiding that figure or that face.
But the title... a drama making film?
She hadn't heard a word about Jiwoo being in a drama. Brooding wouldn't answer anything, so she hit play.
One look at the set and it was obviously a script reading. The video opened on a parade of beautiful, handsome actors filing across the screen. Celebrities had never been her thing, so she was about to skip ahead to Jiwoo when—
"Huh?"
Just for a sliver of a second, behind an actor mid-interview, Jiwoo flickered into frame.
"Ugh... who is this ugly woman and why is her interview taking forever? Han Mi-young? Who even is this nobody?"
The woman named Han Mi-young would not shut up, and Boram's irritation climbed with every second. Other actors took their turns after that.
"Oh... I know this one. She won some award a while back, I think. So she's in this too."
Afraid she might miss Jiwoo again, Boram watched every frame without skipping a single second. The interviews with most of the leads wrapped, and the video finally moved on to the actual reading. Jiwoo never appeared before the interviews ended.
She checked the runtime. It was almost over.
Please... please, please, even if it's just at the end, please show up.
Boram clasped her hands and prayed.
And then.
Right there in the next-episode preview, Jiwoo appeared. Script in one hand, she ran through a brief stretch of acting—and the video cut to black.
"Are you kidding me? You end it there?!"
She cursed the production staff with everything she had, and her finger was already tapping the next video.
The second making film was the actors at the script reading. Nothing spoiler-heavy made the cut. It was just the basics—vocal warm-ups, then a string of simple performances.
Choi Chun-sung delivered the kind of acting that made him shine. Go Eun-hye offered something steady, heavy with the weight of a long career. And then there was Han Mi-young, the only one who made you want to look away.
"Her again?"
Han Mi-young, virtuoso of foot acting, was dragging the whole thing down.
You even think about getting in Jiwoo's way and I will find you...
As a powerless art student, there was currently nothing she could do. Boram ground her teeth and kept watching the performances that followed.
And then, at last.
"Th-there she is!"
Jiwoo. The one she had been waiting for.
Her acting didn't leap off the screen the way Choi Chun-sung's did, and it didn't have Go Eun-hye's unshakable poise. What it did have was a fierce, unmistakable presence—the clear sense that she was here, acting in this room—and it stole every eye that watched. The moment she shouted at Han Mi-young, in particular, was downright cathartic.
"That's my Jiwoo."
Watching her stand there and deliver her performance without flinching, even in front of seniors so far above her, Boram tumbled headfirst into Jiwoo's charm all over again.
"Ah... I've got it. A good idea."
Every time she looked at Jiwoo, she felt the same thing. A grown person's dignity. A surplus of ease. As if an adult had somehow wound time backward and become a child again.
"That's it... time."
Boram tossed her phone behind her and dropped into her chair. Ideas were flooding in faster than she could catch them, and her hands were already moving.
February was running out. March was less than a week away.
A lot had happened to me.
Han Mi-young, who had been cast as the female lead, ended up leaving the drama, and the original actress took the role back. On top of that, the vocal training I had been squeezing in whenever I could finally paid off.
I could walk into just about anywhere now and sing at a respectable level.
Which led to this.
"Is this how I'm supposed to sing it?"
"That was great! That's our Jiwoo. But where are you posting this song?"
"I'm not posting it. There's this thing called the VTuber Music Project—a song contest for VTubers. I'm thinking of entering."
Of course the VTuber Music Project had to open right at the start of the school year. I had been planning a nice, leisurely return to campus. Instead I was sprinting through every day.
"Don't push yourself too hard. You're basically this academy's savior at this point!"
I tilted my head at the director's reaction.
"Did enrollment go up again?"
"It did! That's all you, working so hard! Lately we've even had guys showing up just to get a look at you."
Yeah. I could see that for myself.
Even now, a whole crowd of dark-haired heads was hovering at the recording booth window. Short hair, every last one of them—guys, no question. They had been lurking like that for days.
"How's this take?"
"It recorded clean. Want to hear it?"
"Yes."
The director played back what we had just laid down. My own voice came through the studio speakers, and I let myself listen.
Hmm... still a little pitchy on that last stretch.
Compared to before, the number of cracked notes had dropped off a cliff. That much I could hear.
Maybe I just don't have the stamina yet.
I could get through a full song now. The problem was that "getting through it" was all I could do. I couldn't give it everything I had.
"Well? How does it sound to you?"
"It's... not bad. But I think I need another pass."
"Yeah? From where I'm sitting, this would already land just fine. If that's what you want, though, we'll go again."
I pulled the headset back on and sang with the track.
"—!"
Between acting practice and agency business, time for singing had been genuinely scarce. Even so, whenever I had a scrap of it left, I practiced. Agency studio or home, I didn't skip a single day.
No technique in the singing?
I'll give you that.
No emotion in it?
I'll give you that too.
So what?
Does a song actually need technique and emotion packed into it?
I don't think so.
A song is... if you just sing it well, that's a win.
The climax was coming. I poured every last bit of stamina I had into the notes and let them go.
About three minutes vanished like a ghost, and the director's okay came down.
"Okay! I love it! Jiwoo, this one's amazing! You're in for sure!"
I listened to the take. A more settled tone than before. Almost no pitch breaks at all.
And yet...
"One more time... let me try once more."
"You sure? You look wiped."
"Ah..."
She wasn't wrong. I had just burned through everything I had. My throat was raw, and my hands were shaking.
"I was going to order jajangmyeon. Want to eat and rest a bit?"
"....Tangsuyuk."
"Hm?"
"Tangsuyuk... the extra-large, please."
If you were ordering Chinese, you could not skip the sweet-and-sour pork.
"That should be... fine."
The director already knew my appetite well. I still couldn't forget the look on her face the time she watched me put away five burger combo meals by myself.
"And a large jajangmyeon too."
"...Right. Large jajangmyeon as well."
"Yesss..."
I made a tiny fist and let a blissful look steal over my face.
"That's it! We're done! It is not getting better than this!"
The director was the first to throw in the towel.
I had walked in that morning and done nothing but record, straight through lunch, until the sun was almost down. The guys peeking through the window had long since given up and left, and it was time for me to head home too.
"Hang on a second. I'll send it right over."
I took today's best take. All that was left now was to find a decent virtual model and drop the song in. That would be it.
"Thank you for all your hard work today."
"Don't mention it. I had fun recording too. I can't even remember the last time I put this much into a cover..."
"It's only going to get busier from here. I'll mention this place now and then."
"You will? Aigoo~ You really are a walking blessing, you know that?"
The director pinched both of my cheeks and tugged. They stretched out like marshmallows.
"Ow, that hurts~"
It did not hurt at all, but she let go anyway.
"So... you won't be coming here anymore?"
"Mm... probably not. Between school and filming the drama, I think I'm going to be pretty swamped... I'll still drop by sometimes, though. There's a lot I still want to learn."
It being the last lesson hadn't exactly made me work any less hard.
"If you get bored, come hang out... and leave me an autograph before you go. I saw it. The potential. You're going to make it. No question."
"Even just saying that—thank you."
A last goodbye, a signature, a commemorative photo, and I stepped out of the academy.
On the way home, my phone started buzzing without a break. A call. A familiar name on the screen. I picked up without thinking twice.
"Hello?"
"J-Jiwoo! I-it's me... Boram."
"I know. It came from your number, unnie."
"Ah... r-right."
"Is something going on? Your voice is shaking... A cold? Or..."
The worry slipped out before I could stop it, and Lee Boram scrambled straight to the point.
"I-I'm sorry! Can we meet right now?!"