On the Verge of Becoming a Human Mushroom
I felt like I was turning into a human mushroom after leaving the furniture expo and collapsing back into the car.
“Haa...”
The exhaustion hit different from rolling around solo at a campsite. Business meeting with the MCN president, then an unexpected run-in with the marketing team leader. Meeting back-to-back with work-related folks had drained my energy.
I gripped the steering wheel in a daze when it hit me—the stuff I absolutely had to buy today.
Oh right. Shampoo and... whatever that cleanser thing is...
A quick search showed women had a ridiculous number of products just for washing up. Drag this tired body to a mart or specialty store? Yeah, no way. Pass.
Right then, a bright, cheerful laugh echoed in my ears like an auditory hallucination.
Come to think of it, Im Nana's a beauty YouTuber, right?
Exactly. Experts exist for a reason. Shower stuff and basic skincare could wait—I'd just ask Nana. What's the point of having a 1.5 million-sub beauty YouTuber on speed dial?
What brilliant rationalization... no, strategy. Satisfied with myself, I drove home.
Got home, stripped off my clothes like old skin, and flopped into the computer chair.
Oh yeah... gotta edit.
Wait, would they handle editing for that last camping trip too? It was filmed pre-contract, but... they probably would, right?
Positive thinking circuit activated, relief washed over me. Freedom from video editing—the endless, unchanging grind that never got easier.
“...So what now?”
No urgent tasks. Editing? Nah. Camping? Done. Meetings? Cleared.
“Time... time's just hanging there.”
Sudden free time. I leaned back in the chair. It creaked and reclined.
What did I even do before the body change?
Racking my brain. When I had a job, after work it'd be a beer, a game or two... then YouTube binges on camping channels to scout next sites when games got stale.
Games again? Nah, not feeling it.
Scout campsites? Just went yesterday...
...Was I really this hobby-less? No, wait—camping's my thing. But it's not a daily workout you can spam. Sure, with stamina, daily camps would rock. Problem: this primate weakling body. Skip rest, and I'd collapse at site doing zilch.
Finally, I sprawled on the bed, limbs splayed like a starfish, staring blankly at the plain white ceiling. Clock ticked toward 3 p.m.
Too early for dinner or nap. Awkward limbo hour.
“Ah... seriously, what do I do?”
Nothing. Life's content drought. Post-body-swap, post-viral video, post-taste-of-success, I'd been sprinting nonstop. Barely a month, but the fullest of my life.
Now, with tasks wrapped... lost my direction. Back at 300 subs, I had “grow the channel” as a goal. Now? Video blew up, MCN ship sailed—goal cleared.
Ugh... Kicking legs idly, fidgeting blankets with my toes—boredom writhing. This my content now? Stay like this, and I'd sprout actual mushrooms.
Knock knock.
“What, so annoying...”
A message at peak boredom felt intrusive. Ironic. Body slumps, mind follows?
I sluggishly grabbed the smartphone by the bed.
Ha, cute. Been too long since texting girls? One emoticon and it hits different. In person, she's just a big puppy.
Sent honest vibes. Hit send—read receipt in under a second. Reply flew back.
Ah... now?
Too tired? But so bored? Tired? Bored?
Inner selves clashed.
Eh, too much hassle. Say later...
“Braised short ribs.”
Yeah, hassle or not—braised short ribs demand attendance. How could I resist?
Bolted from bed, gathered scattered clothes, headed to Im Nana's.
Entering Im Nana's apartment complex, I cringed at myself—lured by “braised short ribs,” mindless.
...Too hasty? Nah, market research. What's a top-tier 1.5M-sub streamer do at home? Work environment? Content ideas? Eyeball it myself.
Right—not succumbing to ribs. Purely professional extension.
Rationalization revved up. Feet carried me to her door. Light knock—cute patter of footsteps, door swung wide.
There she was: Im Nana in a darling cooking apron, welcoming me.
“Come on in!”
“Then, pardon the intrusion.”
Stepping in, sweet-salty aroma hit—saliva surged involuntarily. White-toned interior, cute knick-knacks everywhere.
...Solo girl homes this tidy?
My room's delivery containers flashed—guilt pang.
“Whoa, place is amazing. So clean.”
“Hehe, yeah? Love tidying. Sit comfy! Ribs almost done—food soon!”
She guided me to the living room sofa, then trotted back to the kitchen.
Sank into plush cushions, scanned around. One wall: huge bookshelf. Zero camping books—all fashion mags, cosmetics tomes.
Real hard worker...
Glanced at open bedroom door—lit table caught eye. Bottles, tubes, mystery tools neatly arrayed.
Vanity?
Curiosity won; approached. Not a chem lab? So many types?
This... eyebrow thing? Brush-like, but for what?
Colorful powder palettes—sigh escaped. Slather this daily? Such a chore...
“Whatcha looking at~? Ah, tons of cosmetics, right? Job's the job, hehe...”
“Wild... You use all these? What's this?”
Grabbed a tool, asked—she eyed me like an alien.
“Huh? Don't you use an eyelash curler, Areum? Makes sense—yours are super long and pretty.”
“Curler? Never done makeup period.”
“...?”
“???”
My words landed—her smile vanished. Eyes wide, alternating between my face and vanity, stammering.
“...What? W-wait. Never?”
“Yep. No clue how, never thought to.”
“Th-then... that's been barefaced all this time...?”
Im Nana stared like the world ended.
“Y-you're not wearing any now?”
“Nah, just toner and lotion.”
Hands trembling, she reached for my face. Fingertips tentative at first, then kneading like dough.
“N-no way, really none?!”
“H-hey, st-stop th-at...”
...Ease up on cheeks? Speech slurring.
“No BB cream?!”
“Just toner-lotion all-in-one...”
“This is fraud!!!!!!”
Rawr. Wild Im Nana howled.
Why the drama? Her skin's great too.
Hand wandered to her cheek.
“Nana, yours feels good too? So squishy.”
“..?!...!”
Whoops, too sudden? She jolted. Even girl-on-girl touch has limits?
“S-sorry. Too abrupt?”
“...N-no, i-it's fine. Since it's you, Areum... yeah...”
Since it's me? Ah, friend perk? Girl distance tricky.
Awkward air lingered, but house tour continued. She showed another room—pro broadcasting gear I'd seen in communities.
“Whoa...”
Awe slipped out. Pricey stuff?
“These mics, headsets—feel different from gaming ones?”
“Duh, streamers don't splurge on condenser mics for nothing. Crystal voice.”
“Ooh... That's the audio interface?”
“Yep! Noise reduction, effects—rich sound, catches tiniest makeup noises.”
She shifted from bubbly friend to pro YouTuber, explaining lighting setups to lens types flawlessly.
Thought she was all innocence—cool side.
Pro's a pro...
Gear-gazing trance—kitchen timer beeped.
“Ack! Ribs! C'mon, dinner time!”
She snapped back, dashed to kitchen.
At table, brief wait—steaming rib pot arrived.
“Now, real dinner!”
Table: ribs plus neat side dishes.
First bite... haaah.
“...!”
Tender meat slid off bone; sweet-salty harmony exploded. No chewiness, seasoning soaked deep.
“Whoa... this is seriously good?”
“Really? Phew! Bought meat online—too much for solo, so went hard since you were coming.”
“You cook amazing. Better than stores.”
“Hehe, love cooking.”
“...? Then why no camping cooking last time?”
“Mmm... first camp ever, no outdoor experience. Thought 'taste camping first'.”
“With these skills, anything outdoors would slap.”
“Really? Must try next time.”
Chat wrapped—silent rib vacuuming began.
Oh... dangerous.
Chewing soaked tender meat: addictive. Too good.
1.5M beauty YouTuber, ace home cook, tough cookie... Too perfect? Me? Not even makeup...
Oh right. Cosmetics.
Meant to ask anyway. One-stop shop.
“Hey, Nana.”
“Hm? What's up, Areum? Done already?”
“I'm total noob at this... Could you recommend shampoo, body wash... basic skincare?”
And moments later, I regretted bringing it up mid-meal.