The Editor Audition

After the stream wrapped last night, Noona came over. We ordered late-night snacks, then crawled into bed together and just... stayed there.

If we did it every single day, my body genuinely would not survive, so I held her quietly and we slept. That was all.

Noona might be fine. I absolutely would not be.

Starting the gym really had been the right call.

"Mmm! Dan-woo, you did not order this, right? It's way too good."

Seated at the table, demolishing a plate of kimchi fried rice with a smile that lit up her whole face, Noona could have passed for an angel without anyone arguing the point. Sunlight poured through the wide-open curtains behind her, and for a second it looked like she had an actual halo.

"Delivery? Come on. How long do you think this even takes to make?"

I played it cool. That was a lie. I was ridiculously happy. This was only the second meal I'd ever cooked for someone else. I'd spent my whole life cooking for one and eating alone, so praise like this still sat strangely on my skin.

The fact that it was Se-a Noona doing the praising didn't hurt either.

"What are you doing today? The big stuff's all done, right?"

"Yeah. Finished everything yesterday afternoon."

She'd cleaned her plate so thoroughly not a single grain of rice remained. We were working through a convenience-store roll cake for dessert now, talking between bites.

"Today... hehe."

She swallowed the last of her cake, looked at me, and grinned.

"Want to spend the whole day with me?"

"You think I'd say no?"

I reached over and wiped a smear of cream from the corner of her mouth. Then, instead of grabbing a napkin, I put my finger in my own mouth.

"W-why would you eat that!? That's disgusting..."

"Disgusting? If this is disgusting, how have we been kissing?"

"That's different and you know it!"

Her cheeks went scarlet. She'd take a bite, glance at me, take another bite, glance at me again — clearly dying of embarrassment and equally clearly wanting to keep talking.

In the end, she didn't say another word.

We've already done everything there is to do. And THIS is what makes her shy?

I did the dishes while Noona draped herself across the table and watched. She'd offered to help, once — and the second she realized I wasn't going to budge, she settled into the most comfortable position she could find.

Yeah. That's probably easier on both of us.

Better this than having her hovering next to me, fidgeting.

"So the work isn't actually all done, is it?"

I dried my hands and sat back down ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at the table. No couch. Nowhere decent to sit. This was getting old.

"Just the big stuff. The rest can wait."

"When you say we're spending the whole day together... that includes while you're streaming?"

She nodded instead of answering.

"Want to come on stream again, then?"

"No. An Escort Officer showing her face isn't a great idea."

Special-forces logic, basically. If the person protecting you is publicly identifiable, they become a target — or a tell. Someone who couldn't find me could still look at Noona and know I had to be nearby.

"Once you start streaming, I'll work too."

She pointed at the bag she'd brought over yesterday. Homework, apparently.

"Don't push yourself too hard, okay?"

"I know."

We couldn't sit at the table forever, so we brushed our teeth and headed back to bed.

"I've been looking at couches. Narrowed it down to a few. Take a look?"

I pulled up the candidates I'd saved on my phone and handed it over. I was using her left arm as a pillow, so she took it with her right. Then she bent her left arm and started stroking my hair while she scrolled.

"This one looks good. Works as a couch and a bed."

She'd read every spec. Naturally, she'd picked the most expensive one on the list. A well-known furniture brand, fold-it-up-it's-a-couch, unfold-it-it's-a-bed, two-in-one. Already generous as a sofa — unfolded, it was nearly queen-sized. Bigger than my actual bed.

"Noona, you really are a pervert, huh?"

"Ugh... I can't even deny it this time."

"Hahaha. Okay, full disclosure, that's exactly why I put it on the list."

If you already have a bed, why else would anyone pick one of these?

I bought the two-in-one on the spot. Two-thirds of my bank account evaporated.

Men got thirty percent off everything. The catch: you had to pay with the government-issued card to claim it, and that card's account would only accept deposits in two situations — the male living stipend, and money a man had earned himself.

The whole point was to stop women from parking cash in a man's account just to abuse the discount.

"They're coming to install it the day after tomorrow. You're not allowed to leave until then!"

"I wasn't planning to? You could try to kick me out and I still wouldn't go!"

The arm under my head flexed and pulled me in. I sank into her, and we just stayed there, sharing warmth.

So this was what it felt like. To love someone. To be loved back. I'd been learning it lately — in my body, and in whatever was left of my chest.

Sweet time in bed has a way of vanishing. Before I knew it, it was time to stream.

Noona stayed on the bed with her laptop, working. I climbed down and sat at the desk.

Cam on. Day four. A steady forty to fifty thousand viewers, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠every single broadcast. On NewTube, the clip of my face reveal had blown past ten million views. Considering my other videos sat in the low millions, that number was insane.

Of course, Manager Noona had already arranged for every ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠last one of those videos to come down by today. I'd only heard about it secondhand — but when I actually opened NewTube just now, not a single clip of my stream existed anymore. All that remained were fact-check videos and speculation essays with my name in the thumbnail.

Three new names since yesterday. Eight candidates total.

I wanted GOFuD if I could get them. How many others to bring on — that was the real question this stream needed to answer.

Ah — and I'd dropped the "rookie streamer Ian" bit from the title. Looking at the viewer count alone I was basically a mid-tier corporation at this point. Leaving that in felt like false advertising.

Ever since the face reveal, I'd been giving people a five-to-ten-minute buffer after going live before actually starting. The viewer count had spiked so hard I kind of had to.

Normally I would have thrown up a black screen for the waiting period. Turning the cam on had produced a side effect I never saw coming.

Characters based on me had started appearing. En masse.

The first time Manager Noona told me, I nearly fell out of my chair.

I went to one of those art-submission sites and searched the Ian tag. Characters. Dozens of them. On day one the designs and faces were all over the place, no two alike.

Then someone who was apparently a very, very big deal in the illustration world posted a version — and everything changed. One by one, people started converging on that design. And just like that, my character existed.

The waiting-screen art I was using right now was from that same absurdly famous illustrator. Handle: SOLI. These days they didn't even take freelance or commissions, which meant getting a drawing out of them was close to impossible.

I still can't believe someone like that drew me a picture as a gift.

Reversed World or not — this was someone who had never once drawn a streamer's character. And they'd drawn me. An original character, based on me.

Knowing there were people who thought that hard about me felt good. It also felt like a lot to live up to.

"Hey, Yandere. You work hard today?"

More people, same energy. The Yandere hadn't changed a bit.

I spent about an hour just watching them bounce off each other — or getting relentlessly dogpiled for something I said, or flipping it and roasting them right back.

My average stream ran five, six hours. Even starting the main event now, I had plenty of time to pick an editor.

"Alright. Shall we get into the main content?"

The Yandere were just as hyped for NewTube as I was. Then again, these days it was harder to find a streamer who didn't have a channel.

"Eight candidates total."

I pulled up the notepad with the eight handles written out.

"We'll watch all the clips — I'll cut them down to a minute or two each — and then we vote at the end!"

"We're not hiring off the vote alone. I'll interview the top three and make the final call from there."

The Yandere could love someone all they wanted — if that person and I didn't click, it would sour eventually. There were good people out there. No reason to force a bad fit.

"And those interviews are happening over DearCode! So everybody get ready to take a call, yeah?"

I loved catching them off guard like this. And the Yandere reactions were so good I genuinely didn't think I could ever stop.

"The surprises aren't going anywhere! Alright — shall we watch the first candidate's reel?"

I'd downloaded everything in advance and sorted it into folders. I opened the one with the first candidate's name on it and hit play on one of the clips.

Watch a clip. Judge it. Leave a comment in the notepad. Repeat. Three hours later, we'd finally seen everything.

Even the three late additions had strong personalities. Which meant a lot of comments, which meant it took forever.

"Time! Poll's closed!"

Ten minutes of voting, done. Just over thirty-five thousand votes. With a little over fifty thousand watching, that was a solid turnout.

"Okay, even I'm nervous. Who took first?"

People really did see the same things, huh. Chat was nothing but a GOFuD praise circle.

One vote per person. I wondered if the gap was about to be humiliating.

"Alright, revealing it! One, two...!"

I drummed a little dun-dun-dun under my breath, let the tension cook, and hit the results.

"That's actually overwhelming..."

How does one person take forty-six percent by themselves? Looking at the work, it wasn't like I couldn't see why... but a gap that wide, I worried the other candidates would take it hard.

"Everyone looks pretty shook. Honestly, so am I."

GOFuD was in a league of their own, in more ways than one.

"Thank you to everyone who applied to be my editor! And now — the moment you've all been waiting for — the interviews!"

The calls. Finally.

I made a room in DearCode and sent invite codes to the three people currently watching the stream.

Alright. Time for a pressure interview.