Guest of Honor (5)

"Oh, right."

I had to take the mask off if I wanted to eat anything at all. I'd been wearing it so long I'd completely forgotten it was still on. I almost drove this expensive meat straight into the fabric by accident.

I took off the mask and ate the meat. That was all — a simple little motion — and yet the chat was pouring every ounce of its attention onto me. Honestly, I'd expected as much.

I am pretty, after all.

Okay, this is actually really good.

That meat had earned its price tag. Even pan-seared with no particular finesse, it melted on the tongue like something out of a commercial.

"This is seriously delicious."

"Y-yeah... eat plenty."

"You too, unnie. Dig in."

"So, do you go out for meat with your friends too?"

"Sorry?"

"I mean, watching you earlier — you grill really well."

"I go with friends, and when I go with my parents I do the grilling too."

"For real? Where do middle schoolers even go these days? Back in my day it was dakgalbi and stuff like that, not fancy meat."

"There's something I've been curious about, though."

"You can ask me anything."

"Why'd you start playing LoL?"

Why had I started playing?

In my previous life it had been the natural next step. Among the guys, nothing built friendships quite like gaming. This life, I'd started because I had a goal I wanted to reach.

I thought for a moment about how to answer.

"I started because of you, unnie."

"Huh?"

"I randomly saw a clip of your stream on YouTube Shorts. It looked fun, so I picked it up."

We were live, so a little lip service felt appropriate.

"Really? For real? Actually for real?"

Han Byul made no effort to hide how delighted she was.

"And one more thing I'm curious about — are you thinking about going pro?"

"I am. Seriously."

"For real? So you're deliberately climbing ranked for that?"

"Yes. Figured that would be the fastest path to a debut."

"Position mid?"

"Obviously."

The moment I said I was seriously aiming for pro, both Han Byul and the viewers looked stunned. A middle schooler — a girl, no less ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠— declaring she wanted to go pro. The reaction was only natural.

"I saw you play other roles pretty well last time. What if an offer comes in for a different lane?"

"That... I don't think I'd take it."

It was a challenge I'd failed once already, but even in this life I wanted mid. Honestly — royalty playing a different lane? If literally no team ever offered me mid, I might at least think about it. But I wasn't keen on the idea.

"Then when you debut for real, tell them you started because of me, okay?"

"If I get the chance, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I will."

"And later, when you win MVP as Jui or whatever — do the whole 'Jui? ByeolTube' thing for me."

"Oh — then what's your pro tag gonna be?"

"I haven't thought that far yet."

That was still an open question. Whether to reuse the nickname from my previous life, or invent something new. Well — future me could figure that out.

"Then how about we do this?"

"Do what, exactly?"

"Pick the nickname you'll use later!"

"Be honest — we're all thinking the same thing, right? Challenger at fifteen? She's going pro for sure."

Han Byul flipped on the roulette feature like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Chat's too hard to read, so drop your suggestions as donations and I'll add them to the roulette list."

"If the list gets too long it won't be fun anymore."

A pro was a pro, I supposed — even dropping in at the tail end of a stream, she still knew exactly how to pull donations. No wonder she'd won Best Streamer multiple times in my previous life.

"Okay — Holy."

"Hey now — you know my name is copyrighted, right?"

She said that, and then added QueenHanByul to the roulette list anyway.

Donations kept flying in with word after word, and then one of them brushed past my ear.

"Para? Isn't that the nickname you're using right now? Does it mean something?"

"It's a little long to explain, but it doesn't really mean anything."

"Yeah? I'll add it anyway."

Han Byul kept taking donations for another five minutes or so before she finally closed the list. In a little over thirty minutes — how much had she even made? I was starting to seriously wonder whether I should just start streaming myself, TS and all.

"All right. Spinning."

The roulette whirled, nicknames flashing past too fast to track. Everyone was treating it as a bit, and landing on something here didn't mean I'd actually use it — but I was still curious enough to wonder what would come up.

"Huh?"

The winner was—

—none other than para.

"Hmm... you know, that one might actually suit her best?"

The reaction's different from my previous life.

Sure, even back then most people had been positive about my tag when I was playing well. But after a string of runner-up finishes, it had turned into a punchline — a symbol of the eternal bridesmaid. The memory left a bitter taste I swallowed down just as Han Byul called the end of the stream.

"All right, that's it for today's broadcast."

The stream wrapped up in a pretty warm atmosphere. It wasn't my stream, but it was the first one I'd done since becoming a girl — and having a pro next to me had made the whole thing easy.

Stream over. Time to head home—

"Wow, you were seriously amazing!"

Han Byul snagged my hand just as I was getting ready to leave, unable to contain her excitement. Viewership had been higher than usual, donations had been flowing — of course she was in a good mood.

"Are you really fifteen? Your stream sense is incredible, your mechanics are cracked. You could succeed at literally anything!"

Wrapped in her hug, I felt something heavy and solid against me. Would I grow that much someday too? Some people said big ones were inconvenient, but having them didn't seem like it would hurt.

"For the appearance fee, I'll settle the donations and send you half on top."

"You really don't have to."

"No, no. Just the viewer influx alone today — do you know how much it jumped? Honestly, I'd give you all of it if I could."

"If you insist, I'll just take the donation revenue."

"...You're joking, right?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

A brief silence settled between us.

"I'm kidding."

"Haha... you could go into acting at this rate."

Ring, ring.

I opened my eyes in bed to the same phone alarm I never wanted to hear. The day had finally come.

First day of school.

At least it's not the start of third year. Small mercies.

And if I only had to show up for about two weeks before spring break kicked in, that wasn't so ba—

...I want to die.

It was bad. I'd been pulling all-nighters to climb the ladder, and dragging myself out of bed in the morning felt like a death sentence. Every fiber of me wanted to collapse back into the sheets, but that would guarantee I'd be late.

If I'm late, I can't catch a ride in Dad's car.

And if I wanted even a few minutes of sleep on the way, I needed to leave on his commute schedule. The few times I'd overslept and taken public transit during rush hour had been pure hell.

I rushed through a shower and pulled on my uniform. There was a time I couldn't even dress myself properly — now I could fasten and unfasten a bra hook one-handed like a pro.

Still pretty, even like this.

No makeup. Uniform unaltered. And I still looked flawless. Fashion really ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠did start and end with the face.

"It's been a while, and you still made it out on time. Good."

I finished getting ready and stepped into the entryway to find Dad already waiting. Mom must have left for work already.

I climbed into the car and let the sound of the road lull me under for a moment.

"We're almost there."

It felt like less than thirty seconds had passed, but the school was already coming into view. The front gate was a traffic nightmare, so he dropped me at the back entrance and I headed for my classroom.

I did what I always did — planted my face on the desk and tried to sleep — when someone shook me awake and shoved a phone in my face.

"Hey..."

"This is you, right?"