No Police! Bathroom Lockdown and Sub-Channel Schemes
“Nana! Gate 30! Over there!”
“One minute! We’ve got one minute left!”
Fukuoka Airport departure hall. We were sprinting toward the gate like absolute maniacs. The rumble of our carry-on wheels echoed deafeningly across the floor. My lungs burned right up to my throat. My heart felt like it was about to explode, but I couldn’t stop. We had exactly one minute until boarding closed.
Everything had been perfect until last night. After Nana’s yakiniku rampage, we’d taken a leisurely walk to digest and wrapped up our final sightseeing. There’d been a teary moment when Rika got emotional about parting ways, but we’d ended on a heartwarming note. We’re all internet broadcasters anyway—we could see each other’s faces and hear each other’s voices through screens anytime.
We’d even done all the souvenir shopping in the city yesterday with Rika’s guidance, skipping the airport duty-free plan entirely. So today was supposed to be relaxed: sleep in, enjoy a classy breakfast, and stroll to the airport with plenty of time.
That was the plan, anyway.
But...
Why the hell did it turn into this?
Why were we dashing through the middle of the airport like we were in some blockbuster movie?
Rewind to this morning at the hotel. After a deep sleep, I woke up even before my alarm. Warm morning sunlight poured through the curtain gap. It was a refreshing start, bittersweet about the trip’s end but buzzing with excitement to see Maximus soon.
“Mm...”
I stretched and glanced at the bed next to mine. There lay a massive silkworm cocoon, only her feet sticking out. Nana, buried head-to-toe under the covers, dead to the world. Her sleeping habits were consistent, I’ll give her that.
I’ll wash up before waking her.
Humming a tune, I headed to the bathroom. After a hot shower, I toweled off my hair and grabbed the doorknob.
Click.
Huh? It’s a bit sticky. I twisted harder.
Click. Click.
“...”
No dice. Checked the lock—not engaged. Twisted and pushed again. Nothing.
Broken?
A chill ran down my spine. I was trapped in the bathroom. Outside was Nana, sleeping so soundly she wouldn’t notice if I was carried off. And my smartphone? Neatly on the bed.
“...Huh?”
Once it sank in, cold sweat started pouring.
“Nana!”
No response. Of course not—she’d been mumbling about five more hours of sleep in her dreams.
I yelled louder. “Nana! Wake up! Open the door!”
Silence. Panic set in. We had time before the flight, but not forever. What if she didn’t wake by check-out? Worse, what if I couldn’t get out?
I tried shoulder-barging. Thud!
“Kieeeek!”
Some weird squeak escaped me. Did I dislocate my shoulder? This delicate beauty’s body couldn’t bust a sturdy hotel door. I rattled the knob, kicked it, tried everything—but the door stayed shut.
“Huff... huff...”
How long had it been? Thirty minutes? An hour? Time blurred. Nana... please wake up... I prayed silently. But outside was dead quiet.
Finally, as despair hit, footsteps sounded beyond the door.
Knock knock.
“(Guest? Check-out time passed with no contact, so we came up. Are you there?)”
Japanese. Hotel staff! My savior!
I jumped up and pounded the door. “Help! Help me! I’m here!”
Murmurs outside, then...
“(Yamada-san... Shouldn’t we call the police?)”
Keisatsu...? Police? No way!
“NO POLICE! Dame!”
My voice must’ve reached them—the murmurs stopped. Then, beep, the door lock clicked open. Staff using a master key.
“(Pardon the intrusion... Uh?)”
Staff sounded flustered. The scene he saw was obvious: one woman on the bed, cocooned in blankets with feet out, sprawled like the dead. And from the bathroom, desperate pounding and cries for help.
“(Kyaaah—!!! We definitely need the police!!!)”
“Dame—!!!!”
My scream echoed all the way to the hotel lobby.
I collapsed into my plane seat. Soaked in sweat from head to toe. I chugged the water the flight attendant handed me.
“Haa... Thought I was gonna die for real.”
Nana beside me panted too, her face flushed from the sprint. When I glanced over, she guiltily looked away.
“S-sorry...”
“Huh?”
“For sleeping in this morning... and not hearing you call for help...”
Nana fidgeted with her fingers, apologizing. Logically, it wasn’t her fault. The doorknob broke, and I’d forgotten my phone. Heavy sleeper isn’t a crime.
But... after the terror and ordeal I’d endured, I couldn’t just let it slide. Trapped for that hour, my mind raced: Would I starve? Flight cancellation fees? Did Maximus eat? And now, Nana felt guilty. Perfect opportunity.
She might grant a request I’d never normally get. I schooled my face into serious mode.
“...You’re really sorry?”
“Yeah... super sorry. I slept too deep...”
Nana nodded with puppy eyes. Hooked.
I sighed dramatically. “Then... one favor.”
“Favor? What? Spill! I’ll do anything!”
Her eyes sparkled at absolution. I grinned.
“Solo camping.”
“???”
Nana tilted her head.
“Solo camping. Go alone, pitch your own tent, sleep alone.”
“...”
Her eyes shook like an earthquake.
“And film it for YouTube.”
Nailed it. Nana gaped, speechless.
“A-alone?”
“Yep.”
“While filming?”
“Yep.”
“...Me?”
“Yep.”
She pouted. “B-but... I still suck at tents...”
“Suck? You’re better than most now.”
“Scary though...”
“Remember your first camp? Rain, collapsing tent, dark—and you didn’t quit.”
Honestly, she was kinda cool then. That grit made me help her.
“Time you tasted real camping, Nana. Alone time, chatting with nature. That’s true healing.”
Truth? I just wanted to see her struggle solo—and turn it into killer content. 1.8M beauty YouTuber’s solo camping challenge? Clickbait gold.
After agonizing, she nodded. “...Okay. I’ll do it. Promise is promise.”
“Yes! Smart choice!”
I dove into solo camping tips, lecturing till the landing announcement. Our short, intense Japan trip wrapped like that.
At the airport, post-customs, Nana said no car. “Too much luggage going, so taxi.”
“Good call. Mine’s in airport parking—ride together. Gotta hit the station anyway.”
“Yay! Thanks.”
Loaded up, the familiar car air welcomed me. “Haa... Nothing beats my ride.”
“Airport parking’s cheap if reserved...” Nana marveled at the receipt.
“First overseas trip, researched everything. Reservations essential—or it’s double, triple.”
“Got it. Next time, I’ll reserve too.”
We hit the highway to Seoul. Destination: station editing room for Maximus pickup.
“Miss Maximus...”
“Me too. Hope he’s playing nice with Ppukku?”
“Left him with Park PD, right?”
Chatting away, we arrived. Parked underground, elevator up. On the editing floor, a familiar face approached from the hall end.
“Oh? President!”
“Oh! Areum! Nana! Good trip?”
Kim Manho beamed, stack of papers in hand.
“Yes, thanks to you. Tickets and all... Appreciate it.”
“No biggie. You look great—proper healing?”
“Haha... yeah, eventful.”
More sitcom than healing, but whatever.
He eyed us, eyes twinkling. “Perfect timing. Got something for you two.”
“Huh? What’s up?”
“Got a sec? Meeting room.”
His face turned serious. We exchanged looks, nodded, followed.
In the room, he set papers down, sat, alternated gazes.
“Monitored your Japan vids. Nana uploads to cloud real-time.”
“Ah... you saw?”
Embarrassing memories flushed my face.
“Impressive.” He marveled. “Especially you three’s chemistry. And most of all...”
He looked at me. “Areum. Your character’s solidified.”
“My character?”
“Yes. ‘Camp Grandpa’—expertise with a touch of endearing clumsiness? Great hook.”
Compliment? Or subtle roast?
“So, a proposal.”
He slid a paper over.
“Sub-channel?”
“Yes. Keep ‘Camping with Hangeol’ as your core camping channel. Add a sub for daily life, travel, variety stuff.”
“Uh...”
Unexpected. One channel’s already a lot—two?
But he had a point. Plenty of non-camping footage wasted; fans wanted more sides of me.
“Vlogs, behind-the-scenes, light chats like Japan trip edits. We’ll handle editing—no burden.”
They edit? Tempting. For me, anyway. Park PD might differ.
“And Nana.”
“Yes?”
“You too—another channel.”
“Me? What kind?”
He grinned, slid another paper.
“Mukbang channel.”
“......!”
Nana’s eyes bulged.
“Your insane appetite and charming eats—too good to confine to beauty. Japan trip proved it: viewers love your mukbangs.”
“M-mukbang...”
She wavered, hooked halfway.
“We’ll set up official freedom to eat your fill.”
Killing blow. Nana slammed the table, standing. “I’m in! Absolutely! Contract now!”
“Hahaha! Done.”
Kim Manho boomed with laughter. I nodded blankly too.
“I’ll... try the sub-channel.”
“Excellent choices, both!”
Satisfied, he offered handshakes. “You’ll be busier. Looking forward. Oh, and congrats on 400K, Areum. 2M for Nana too.”
Can I really handle th—Huh? What’d he say?