Confusion, and a Night Broadcast
…Something's off.
The knit was a wreck, so I drew the front of my coat closed and left the station. It had been a long time since I'd come to Daehangno, but I was still sunk in my own thoughts.
I must be out of my mind. Why did I do that?
It had been an incredibly dangerous stunt. And the truth was, part of it really had been some strange little flare of irritation. Normally, even if I got annoyed, I'd have gone home and burned it off in a game—not like this. I'd already set the thing in motion, so the thought felt a bit like an excuse I was making to myself. But I wasn't that impulsive. If anything, I leaned timid. I was afraid of mistakes. Doing something I never would have done left me with a fear I hadn't known I could feel.
Maybe it's because everything's been too stimulating lately.
It might have been the kind of excitement that fries your brain. This was the first time in my life women had come on to me like this. I glanced around, then started walking at an easy pace. There were still about thirty minutes until the meeting, and first I needed to do something about a sweater soaked in bodily fluids.
And it's strange how sensitive everyone is, too.
It wasn't a question of who had a high sex drive and who didn't. For some reason, they all got aroused fast. I'd thought I was the one racing ahead alone, like a case of finishing too quickly, but once they actually reached the peak, the orgasms hit with the deep, heavy intensity of a sexually mature woman. Their reactions, though, were pure—every one of them like a woman having her first time. The girl I'd just met, Mirae, especially: a few touches to her nipples and she'd gone over. I hadn't really gotten to touch her below, so I had no proof, but it was obvious she was a virgin.
Then again, I've only met two of them. Generalizing is ridiculous.
That was when I turned into an alley and spotted a laundry. I hadn't seen a clothing shop worth the name and had half a mind to just throw the thing out, but I went straight in and asked whether they could fix it. The owner told me to wait a moment, and in less than ten minutes she'd erased every trace. I asked how she'd done it. She only smiled and quietly held up two fingers. I nodded, passed her two ten-thousand-won bills with a word of thanks, pulled the knit back on, and headed for the meeting place.
Ding.
The moment I stepped into the café, a flood of eyes poured over me again. I did my best to ignore them, washed my hands in the restroom, then took a reasonable table by the window and watched the street outside. This far in, you did start to see a few men. Still not many, of course. And couples walking together were extremely rare, yet here, scattered as they were, you could actually spot them.
"Excuse me."
I turned toward the voice at my side and found two women had come up beside me. One had a smartphone clamped to a selfie stick; the other had a gimbal-mounted camera trained on me and her companion both. The selfie stick was aimed into the café. On the screen, only the part of me from the shoulders down was showing.
"Yes?"
"D-do you have a moment right now?"
"What's this about?"
"We're, um, doing a personal broadcast. And you have such a wonderful atmosphere… The viewers all want to see you. If it's all right, could we do a short interview…?"
Ah. So she was a woman streamer, or a BJ—I wasn't sure which—and she wanted to interview me. Now that I thought of it, something had been posted on the café door when I came in. This must have been it. I looked around. Everyone was staring this way.
This is a little embarrassing.
In the world before this one, I could wander the streets all night and nothing like this had ever happened. Well. Who'd want to talk to a pack of middle-aged men out for a company dinner? That was also why I'd stopped enjoying broadcasts like these. They were stories from a world that wasn't mine. Rather than vicarious satisfaction, they mostly just made me depressed.
This might actually be a good chance. It's a kind of broadcast I don't really understand, either.
It might solve the problem I'd been turning over earlier today. Sudden as it was, getting a little broadcast experience didn't seem like a bad idea. If it went well, I might even learn something from her. That was only if the conversation went well, of course.
"What would I have to do?"
The moment I asked, both their faces filled with bright smiles, and the chat racing up the smartphone screen in the other woman's hands accelerated to a ridiculous speed. I was peering at the phone when the woman with the selfie stick came over, as if she'd been waiting, and showed me the screen. Even then the attached camera stayed angled downward. They seemed to have some manners.
"Oh. You've got quite an audience."
"Yes, yes. Four thousand people. You don't know me?"
"I'm sorry. This is the first time we've met."
"Ah, I see. Jureongies, we're going to have to work even harder. Oh, he's really kind, isn't he. Right. A drink? It looks like he deliberately didn't order one. He said someone's joining him, so if I ordered for him that'd be rude. Right, right. Manager, please ban the sexual-harassment chat."
She read the chat off the phone and answered this and that while I watched, scratching my cheek. The woman holding the selfie stick was plain, modest-looking. The one talking so energetically was quite a beauty—somewhere between a cat face and a fox face. I could tell she'd had a little work done around the eyes and nose. Even so, she'd clearly taken care of her figure: her waist drew in neatly, and the pale thighs showing beneath the miniskirt were attractive enough. If there was a flaw, it was that the chest visible inside the short fur coat, cut off above the navel, was comparatively small. Of course, that was only because I was comparing her to Kang Rahee. She was by no means actually small. She was the sort of woman you'd ordinarily call a beauty without hesitation.
"Ah, I'm sorry. This is just how we do it. Will you be all right? Broadcast policy says I can't pay you, but I can give you a small gift."
"Mm. I'm waiting on someone I'm meeting. If it's all right to stop when they get here, then sure."
"Of course. Th-then, may I sit?"
"Yes. Go ahead."
"Kyaa! Jackpot! Did you see that? This is Lee Hyangsuk!"
And just like that, the one called Hyangsuk dropped into the seat beside me, while the other woman quietly adjusted the camera. The moment the phone caught me and the Hyangsuk beside me, the white text shot upward even faster. Hearts crowded the messages everywhere, but the lines were climbing too quickly to read.
"Chaos. Absolute chaos. They're throwing a fit. Are you people going to get it together? Don't you know this is a first impression? Ah—hello. I'm Lee Hyangsuk. This year I'm a blossoming twenty-eight."
The way she spoke to the camera and the demure little self-introduction she offered me were completely different. I smiled softly at that and held out my hand.
"Lee Shinwoo. I'll be thirty soon."
"Ah. Oh."
She flustered for an instant at the hand I'd offered, and the chat exploded upward again. Then Lee Hyangsuk scrubbed her palm hard against her miniskirt and carefully took my hand.
"Did you see? Did you see that? I'm not washing this hand today, okay?"
"Where do you stream?"
"Ah. You know CrystalTV, right?"
"Ah, sure. So you're a BJ. Do you do YouTube too?"
"…Uh, yes. Of course. Obviously. My Shorts get plenty of likes."
"Oh, tell me the channel. I'll subscribe."
"…Just a moment."
But as we talked, Lee Hyangsuk's expression kept turning strange. At that last line about subscribing, she even rubbed her eyes, then suddenly stood, grabbed the camera, and sat in the chair directly behind me. Wondering what was going on, I looked at the plain woman standing in front of me. She quietly covered her mouth and explained.
"It's, um, our content. The feeling of going back there and saying what she really thinks. A little communication mixed in. We set it at exactly one minute."
"I see. But I can hear all of it."
"That's what makes it fun."
If that was how it worked, then that was how it worked. I nodded and let my gaze drift out the window, listening to the voice behind me filming her one-woman drama.
"…What? Guys. I didn't mishear that, right? I just got goosebumps. See? You see it? Kind? This isn't merely kind. This is an angel. He clearly mixed up the date for Christmas and showed up a little late. No question. Two months off, so he isn't late—he came for Valentine's? That's it. That's exactly it. You, Quick View. We have to lock this down, no arguments. Did you see those clean looks and those manners? Historic. Unbelievable. Right? I'm right, aren't I? My god. Did you see him show interest first? This is no joke. I, Lee Hyangsuk, am telling you this is my level. You all always said I was embarrassing, didn't you? Always too ashamed to admit you watched Lee Hyangsuk's stream because guys shoot me down every time. As of today, I am shutting that controversy down. Go delete the Namuwiki page immediately. And I am completely serious, so do not interfere. Not streaming? Get lost. I'm meeting a man too. Help me. Get in the way and I will dissect your chat and ban you, period. Because of you people, I might genuinely not meet a man until I enlist. Don't use us as an excuse? Has your conscience run away from home? I cannot let a chance like this go. He's too old? Manager, ban this bastard. Is a man at thirty the same as a woman at thirty? Incomparable, you idiots. You have to know something about men before the conversation even works. You're saying I don't know either? Count yourself lucky. All right. One minute."
Then she scooted back over, hunched her shoulders at me, and smiled, turning on the charm. Watching that, I was sure broadcasting really wasn't something just anyone could do.
"That's impressive. I thought you were rapping."
"Ahaha, so you heard me running my mouth for a second. Sharp ears, too. Ah, I said I'd tell you the YouTube, didn't I? Just search Lee Hyangsuk on YouTube."
Apparently the concept was to pretend you hadn't heard whatever was said back there. I let out a small laugh and took out my phone, and Lee Hyangsuk leaned in, passing the camera to the plain woman. The plain woman set the gimbal down on the table and framed the shot with the selfie stick. The perfume coming off Hyangsuk, now so close, grew thicker and thicker. It seemed a little too close, but I could tell she was doing it on purpose, so I pretended not to notice and opened YouTube. Then, suddenly, her slender finger pushed up from the bottom of the phone, hit the call button, and started punching in a number. I glanced at the camera. Only my phone had been cut off below the frame.
"Ah, so the search term is zero-one-zero, three-one…"
"Stop! No—how can you say that out loud?"
"I'm kidding. Anyway, you're the type who just hands your number out to anyone, huh? What number am I?"
I asked the plain woman sitting across from us. She startled, then spread her hand.
"Already fifty today. Disappointing. So it's just whoever happens to bite."
"No, no. Wait. How can you dodge like that? And one hand is five—what's this ten? Ten! In my entire streaming career, barely five! And that isn't what I meant! Don't you have any sense? Any sense at all?"
"Let's let the small stuff slide. Still, wouldn't asking directly be better than a method like this?"
"Small? Then if I ask you directly, you'll give me your number?"
"I'll press the call button right in front of you."
And in that instant, Lee Hyangsuk—who had been staring at me blankly—snatched the selfie stick like a baton pass with the plain woman and headed for the seat behind me again. The plain woman readjusted the gimbal, but her eyes stayed on me. She was standing there looking at me as if I were something curious, so I gestured at the seat across from me.
"Sit. Your legs must be getting tired."
"Ah, yes. Thank you."
"Don't mention it. I'm not sure I'm doing this right. I don't want to get in the way of the broadcast."
"Thank you so much for receiving us so well. Especially today—there have been so many men who only give one-word answers, or who are just mean."
"Ah, then I'm glad. Your energy's good. How many hours do you go like that?"
At that, the woman let out a little puff of laughter, nodded, and answered.
"Usually about four hours. We'll probably do another hour or two."
"Impressive. Broadcasting really isn't something just anyone can do."
And I let another small laugh slip at the one-woman drama starting up behind me again.
"Guys. I think I might have fallen in love today. Congratulations in advance on the heartbreak? Thanks. You're banned. I'm going to lose my mind. Did you see that eye-smile? If nobody clipped that, you're all dead. Good job. You, Quick View. This is insane—what is this. Why is something like this only happening now? Five years sooner—no, even one year sooner. No, no, meeting him even now is still something, right? You say I'm talking like I'm full. You're right. I need to pull myself together. But the time's shrinking and I still have to make content. I need to talk more with him, not these damn Jureongies. Wake up from the dream and go get even one subscriber? Why are you the one waking my dream? What a funny bastard. Want to eat a ban? Let's see if he really presses call? Should I try? Then what do I do? What if he says it was a joke? So what if I pick up one more scar—I've got plenty? Did you pay my treatment bill? I already made fifty thousand won today. Thank you. One minute, done."
Once again Lee Hyangsuk scooted the chair back over, pressed her miniskirt in close beside me, and sat down ever so demurely.