24 Years Old, G-Cup, One-Time Experience, Unemployed (2)
The sandwich I ate every day tasted like nothing today. That persistent man's questions kept grating in my ears so badly that I couldn't even tell if the food was going into my mouth or straight up my nose.
"You're not doing broadcasts, not a YouTuber, and not even unemployed?"
"I told you it has nothing to do with you."
"It does have something to do with me. If you had fans, I'd feel a little sorry for them."
Why does this man know everything about me? I've never told him any of it. Where the hell did he dig it all up from?
"Just tell me. It looks like you're doing YouTube even without me checking. Someone like you should be popular."
"...I said I'm not."
Even though I screamed it at him, he didn't look startled at all. He just chuckled, and that scared me more than anything. ...Just how far has this man dug into my personal information?
The only person who knows that channel belongs to me is me. There probably aren't even that many people watching it. Is Kang Juhyuk really mixed in among those few dozen viewers?
"Don't get so worked up. I'm genuinely curious. I looked it up and wondered why you were doing it that way."
"...You looked it up?"
The more Kang Juhyuk ran his mouth, the bigger my fear grew. There was no way it should have come up in any search. I'd hidden my name, my face, my voice, and my body type completely. Even if he watched the videos, there was no way to know it was me. If he could identify me just from the performance, that went way beyond a simple stalker.
"I was planning to seduce you, so of course I checked whether you had Instagram or anything. Is that weird?"
"...I don't have Instagram."
"You don't do Instagram but you do YouTube. Even if the views aren't great."
"How the hell do you..."
"You can tell just by watching. Can't you see it?"
But Kang Juhyuk pressed me with an expression that said it was the most obvious thing in the world, confidently claiming there was no way he wouldn't know. How could he possibly know? How did he even find videos that only got a hundred or two hundred views?
...What the hell is this guy? A pervert? A genius? I don't know. But I do know I need to stay on guard against that nasty smile of his.
"Ah, did you look it up after fighting with your girlfriend? You weren't thinking of cheating when you searched, right?"
Another lie. Either this was a lie, or everything he'd said to me until now was a lie. Or maybe both. I couldn't even tell anymore. I was starting to doubt whether this man was even the Kang Juhyuk I knew. The one who'd picked fights with me a few years ago had simply been a rude, hot-headed guy.
"But with a face like yours, you'd be popular if you just showed it. Why do you hide yourself so completely? That's why people don't watch."
"...It's my choice."
"If you keep doing it that way, even uploading hundreds of videos would be a waste of time. You'd be better off resting like me."
"It's none of your business..."
The Kang Juhyuk in front of me now was a sly, shameless sociopath. He looked like a Buddha who had seen through every single one of my secrets and was toying with them. It had gone beyond fear. It was terrifying. Maybe he'd known everything from the beginning and had approached me with a plan. The reunion two weeks ago, the purely joyful expression when he received Jia's autograph, the trainer who hit on me, the dying face he'd made while lamenting the pain of a breakup, the cocktail he'd subtly ordered after dragging me to the bar, the multiple condoms in his wallet—maybe every last thing had been calculated.
"Since it is my business, give me your phone. I'll give you some advice."
"Wait, touching someone else's phone without permission...!"
Even his brazen act of reaching for someone else's phone without asking was horrifying. A baseless suspicion crept in that if Kang Juhyuk took my phone for even five minutes, he might install some weird GPS tracking app. It didn't make sense logically, but with him it felt entirely possible. For all I knew, he could have installed tiny cameras all over the house while I was showering.
...I knew it was paranoia, but my thoughts kept spiraling in the worst possible directions.
"Fine. Then you open your channel. I won't touch it."
"..."
Thankfully he raised both hands and stepped back a little, which eased my mind slightly. It was obvious that if I didn't show him he'd pull some weird trick, so I clutched my phone tightly with trembling hands and opened my channel.
...I really hadn't wanted to get caught. I hadn't wanted to reveal that it was me. But since I was already exposed, there was nothing I could do. I didn't know why, but I was too scared to ask because I felt like knowing would only make it scarier.
"...Stay back. Don't touch it."
"I said I got it."
I leaned back as far as I could, pressing the phone against my chest so only the screen faced him. 91 subscribers. 23 videos. Every thumbnail was a serene landscape photo with the sheet music of the song I'd played. I'd uploaded every other day since February, but it was a pathetic channel with zero results.
"Isn't the channel name Sophia a bit much?"
"...It's my choice."
At first I'd meant it as a hobby. I'd quit my job so I had time to spare, and I didn't have any other hobbies anyway. Maybe I should play the guitar I'd messed around with before. And since I was playing, I might as well record it on my phone. God, how good must Jia's hearing be that she keeps coming down from upstairs? If you're going to play guitar it's loud, so why not set up a soundproof room? Ha, sure. It's your money anyway—you weren't planning on paying it back. That's how I'd ended up with such a nice setup. Equipment far better than anything I'd had when I was seriously practicing.
...Should I upload the recordings I'd made so far? My friends uploaded vlogs as hobbies too. Wow, I don't even play that well but a hundred people watched. The next video also got a hundred views. ...Ninety. Forty.
"Play the video from two weeks ago. That's the one that helped me find you."
"...How the hell did you figure out it was me from watching that?"
"Just play it."
It was a cover of a famous pop song I'd uploaded two weeks ago. An ordinary video containing nothing but guitar sounds, no different from the others. No matter how you listened, there was no way anyone but me could know the performer was me.
"When have you ever heard me play guitar...?"
"I haven't."
"Then how on earth..."
"You just showed me, so now I know. I told you—if you're lying, it shows all over your face."
"..."
...This crazy bastard. I'd forgotten that this man could spout lies without even blinking. I'd fallen for his confident attitude of pretending to know everything about me again.
...So annoying. Annoying, annoying, annoying!
"Haeun, but seriously, what is that? You play the guitar pretty decently, so why don't you show yourself in the videos? If they could even see your hands, the views would jump ten times."
"...Ha, shit..."
Hearing him dispense advice in a tone that showed he had no idea what I felt when uploading those videos, I couldn't take it anymore. Every word, as he dug at my weaknesses with his acting and lies, scraped at my heart. It was disgusting. It made me feel sick...
"Stop glaring at me and just hand over the phone. I genuinely don't get it."
"You bastard..."
"Why are you crying again? People can bluff sometimes."
"You bastard! I d-don't know, so stop pretending like you do...!"
"What don't you know? I barely poked you and your face told me everything."
"Shit..."
The emotions I couldn't vomit out because I was so furious came pouring out as tears. It wasn't even something worth crying over, but the fear and terror had all transformed into anger that slid down my cheeks. Really, so fucking annoying...
"...Why are you crying? You're making this awkward."
"Stop playing with people, you bastard..."
"What playing? I wasn't playing with you. How would I even play with you? Hm?"
"Ah, just fuck off...!"
When my sobbing wouldn't stop, he stood up, came around behind me, and stroked my head. I was so resentful, wronged, and upset that I tried to slap his hand away, but no matter how many times I did, his hand kept returning to my head. The hypocrisy of this trash rapist, blackmailer, and voyeur trying to comfort me was utterly revolting. The warmth felt like disgusting vomit, making it even worse.
"I'm really sorry for lying. You kept hiding it, so I looked into it to see why."
"...Ha, you bastard...! I was so scared, I really was!"
"Okay, okay. Figuring it out from that would make me a stalker, yeah, a stalker."
"Really, hic... You perverted fuck..."
"Sorry."
His large hand roughly tousled the hair he'd combed for me earlier.
...He's an unemployed bastard just like me. What makes him think he can stand over me rambling like that? Scaring the shit out of people. Making them drink and then raping them. Really, I was terrified thinking you were an actual stalker...
"Stop crying and eat your food. You've barely touched half the sandwich. Yeah?"
"...If you hadn't said all that shitty stuff, I would've finished it already..."
After crying for a long time, as my resentment slowly subsided, he tried to trick me again with a gentle voice. I already knew the sinister intentions hidden beneath it.
"I'm sorry, alright?"
Still, my heart arbitrarily let down its guard, deciding that this was better than hearing his scary, cruel voice. He was a stalker who knew my every move, and the man pretending to know when he barely knew anything should have been far more dangerous. He was a dangerous human being who possessed recordings he could never let anyone hear, yet my body was letting its guard down all on its own.
...What a terrifying bastard. While he's sleeping, I'll steal his phone and delete everything. And I'll make sure we never cross paths again. Ha...