3. Estranged Childhood Friends (3)
To understand why I ended up running into Shin Se-bin, I had to rewind to the family gathering.
The table was laden with grilled meat and a variety of drinks to pair with it. Our tradition was for everyone to pour and sip whatever caught their fancy. It was a time-honored custom, dating back a solid 20 years—ever since the drama in the novel was in full swing, our parents and the neighbors next door had always gathered like this for drinks.
"The meat's mostly done grilling, so fill your glasses and dig in. We'll grill the rest as we go."
"Obviously. We won't finish all that today anyway."
As Ho-seong raised his glass, everyone followed suit. The clear clink of glasses filled the air.
Toasts were a luxury at these gatherings. One glass, two glasses. The adults indulged freely in soju, beer, whiskey, wine—whatever they pleased—while chatting away. Inevitably, the conversation circled back to me and Shin Se-bin.
"Se-bin was so pretty when she was little. Remember? During that kindergarten open house, all the boys were fighting to sit next to her."
"My girl's a beauty, right? But if we're talking childhood stories, Do-hyun's the one we should start with. That relay at the sports day—he turned it around at the last second!"
"Heh, we've beaten that story to death."
Our parents and the neighbors next door looked young enough to pass for early thirties. But as veteran parents of 23-year-olds, kid talk was only natural over drinks.
The only snag was...
"This is the last photo of your daughter and our son together."
"Oh, graduation day?"
"Yeah, elementary school graduation. Do you remember this, son?"
"Of course I do."
...we didn't have much to say about anything after elementary school.
So, naturally, an awkward silence settled in until a new topic arose.
"Ahem...!"
Ho-seong exchanged whispers with Dad, then cleared his throat. All eyes turned to him in an instant. He shared another glance with Dad before directing a question my way.
"Do-hyun, what happened between you and Se-bin?"
Yun-jin shot him a surprised look, but Ho-seong doubled down, his expression firm—like this was a question that had to be asked eventually.
"......"
The adults' attention shifted from him straight to me. Yeah, I'd be curious too if I were them. We'd just... drifted apart without any drama.
But I couldn't give them the answer they wanted.
"Nothing happened."
They probably figured there was some secret drama they didn't know about. Too bad—it was all speculation.
"Do-hyun."
Baek Mom broke the brief silence after my reply.
"You don't dislike Se-bin or anything, right?"
"Of course not."
Even if it looked like we were on bad terms, I didn't dislike Shin Se-bin. How could I feel strongly one way or the other without caring in the first place?
"If that's the case, it would've been nice to at least see her face today."
Yun-jin sighed, drooping her head in disappointment.
"Aigoo, we should've sent them to the same academy in middle school."
"Come on, how could we? Se-bin was learning guitar for music high school."
"Still. They grew apart just because they weren't hanging out together."
She took a sip of her wine, looking crestfallen, then suddenly stood and grabbed both my hands.
"Do-hyun."
"Yes?"
"If you start seeing each other more from now on, you'll get close again, right?"
"......"
No. I don't think so.
Even if I had to live in close quarters with Shin Se-bin now, I doubted it'd make us buddies. It'd just be awkward as hell. She'd been the one to cut off contact first anyway—probably because something about me rubbed her the wrong way.
"Hey, Yun-jin, enough."
Ho-seong, sensing my discomfort, pulled her into a hug and held her close.
"No point forcing it when they're not kids anymore. What good's a contrived setup?"
"But still..."
"Let them meet naturally. We'll be getting together plenty more, and it's not like Se-bin's sick or anything."
"...Yeah."
"Alright then."
Ho-seong clapped and handed me a keycard.
"Do-hyun, mind grabbing another bottle of wine from our place? The cellar's in the living room—pick whatever you like."
"...Sure."
'Natural meetings are best,' my ass.
It screamed, fake a casual run-in while you're at it. But I couldn't refuse Ho-seong—he was the one who'd custom-built my discharge commemorative PC.
"Be right back."
"Oya~"
Right, so up until I stepped into their house, I planned to snag any old bottle and bolt. No lingering to pick the "perfect" one—that'd just tempt fate with a Se-bin encounter.
But...
"...Why the hell is she sleeping here?"
It had been ages since I'd last seen Shin Se-bin, and there she was, fast asleep on the living room sofa.
The problem?
"Why is she using the wine cellar as a pillow?"
She was propped right up against the cellar door, which was flush with the sofa.
"......"
Crack it open quick, grab a bottle, and ghost? What if she wakes up? Sneak like a thief?
I agonized over it.
"...Okay."
I went with option two. It wasn't like opening the door would blare an alarm. Just be quiet enough not to wake her.
Keep an eye on her and go slow. I crouched down and eased the door open.
Careful...
I'd just grabbed the first bottle within reach when—
Shin Se-bin's eyes snapped open.
"......"
"......"
Too bad I'd already been staring her way, so our eyes locked. And that's how we ended up here.
I tried explaining, but she just kept hissing at me to get lost in that low tone. She really wanted me out of her house.
"Fine, I'm going."
I snatched a random bottle from the cellar and headed for the door.
"Came for this. Ho-seong asked me to."
Still, leaving without a word felt off, so I tacked on a quick explanation.
"Sorry if I creeped you out."
From her side, I'd basically peeped on her sleeping. Not exactly forgivable.
......
A pleasant buzz from the drinks followed me as I handed off the wine to the adults and retreated to my room. I'd started living alone, but my old room was mostly unchanged. The mild intoxication hit, and I flopped onto the bed.
"Was it really worth getting that pissed?"
Her reaction nagged at me a bit.
"...Yeah, probably."
Either way, it felt like my fault somehow. The unease wrapped around me like a bad mood.
"Maybe I should just start streaming tomorrow."
Times like this, I craved distraction. Led to impulsive calls, sure, but whatever. Would one more month of analysis really change much dramatically? This felt solid—prepped and ready.
"Might as well set up the channel now. Got a name in mind."
Two months had passed since that day—since I started streaming.
The first week, nerves had me on edge. But my analysis wasn't for nothing.
"No Rift today."
"Heard some server's opening in a few days."
"Gotta apply. Can't be the first resident, right?"
Stream's been up two months, and I've locked in 50 regulars. Some big corp guy once said: hardest jump is 0 to 1 fixed viewer. Then 1 to 10. 10 to 100, 100 to 1000? Piece of cake comparatively.
He nailed it. First month: 3 fixed. Last month: up to 50. With casuals, three digits were in sight sometimes.
"And let's cut back on Rift. Why's my chat full of Rift dogs?"
"I'm a variety guy, folks."
Catering to viewers meant a lot of Rift. But preseason or not, I was done with it.
"Guys, this server's no chill spot. RPG vibes."
"Gotta git gud at Merc then, right?"
My planned content:
"Merc Hardcore Run incoming."
"Chill out. Schedule normalizes this week anyway—sound booth's going in."
These guys overreact. Merc's Merc. Chop trees, mine stone, iron, diamonds, bow the dragon. Done. Why's it so hard?
ThinkAgainNam: 1,000 won video donation!
This Fucker Finally Did It!!!
"Merc kid here? Y'all casuals wouldn't get it, but I grew up on mobile Merc."
I didn't play much anymore. Last time: elementary school, subbing for a friend on iron golem.
Knowledge? Perfect. Every guy my age knew the strats. Binged those corp Hardcore Runs back in the day.
YeahNam: 100,000 won mission!
Jackpot. Clear as Kenwang or bust.
"Ah... our generous viewer drops the big bucks!"
"Chat, what's the record time?"
"1-try's baseline. Record's 3:12? I'll smash sub-3."
A massive black mass lifted into the sky, then erupted in a thunderous boom and explosion. As it burst, purple rain drenched a silver iron helmet.
"Told you—sub-3 hours."
The man at the epicenter smirked wide.
"100k nicely pocketed!"
I hit mission complete and eyed the chat.