The Livestream
The first thought that struck me was this: What is Jieun thinking?
What on earth was going through her head, spending time with me like this? As a man — did she find me repulsive? Or did she actually like me?
I would have bet on the former without a second thought, once. Lately, though, the picture had changed.
Just yesterday she had kissed me, thrown herself at me in a rush of heat, and then — without anyone even asking — volunteered to go down on me.
However much of a financial arrangement sat between us, you didn't do that kind of thing unless you saw the other person as a man, at least to some degree.
So does she like me, then? But why aren't we dating? Simply because I've never asked her out?
There were too many loose threads to pin it all on my unmade confession. Jieun almost never crossed a line the way I did. She almost never treated me like a man at all. That was precisely why our relationship had remained, all this time, a friendship.
If she really felt something, shouldn't she have given me a signal by now? That would be the normal thing to do.
And come to think of it — why doesn't Jieun date anyone?
It used to be something I was simply grateful for. Now it struck me as strange.
When I really thought about it, it was bizarre. How many impressive guys had come charging after Seong Jieun over the years — myself included? No matter how exacting her standards were, someone should have stuck by now. That would be the normal outcome.
And I, of all people, knew what lived behind that innocent face of hers: a wantonness that could hold its own against anyone. It simply didn't add up.
What is she really thinking?
The reason Jieun didn't date. I had a feeling the answer to everything between us was hiding somewhere in there.
"Hey, Dojun, you there? Where'd this guy go?"
Heekyung's voice shattered my deep contemplation. Yesterday came rushing back all at once.
"Hey. Did you call me over yesterday knowing full well what was going on?"
"So what? It's not like you ever had a shot anyway."
"Hang up."
If there hadn't been people watching, I would have unloaded a stream of curses on her. I hung up on Heekyung and went back to shopping. But maybe because my head was too full, I couldn't focus at all.
I ended up grabbing a random complete outfit off a mannequin display, paid, and walked out. Then, swallowing the urge to run straight to Jieun and demand answers, I headed for BJ Minjae's place.
I figured I should take care of today's business first.
BJ Minjae's home and broadcast studio was a luxury apartment in Apgujeong. When I opened the door and stepped inside, a man in his thirties I'd only ever seen on a monitor was waiting for me.
"Hello."
"...Yeah. Hello. And you are...?"
Minjae's expression was exactly what I'd expected. Shock. Then a deep, sinking distrust — the look of a man watching a coin he'd believed in crash through the floor.
"Yeah. I'm RunningWildHorse."
"For real? That's actually you?"
I'd been reading PongPong's comments all along, so his reaction didn't surprise me. The identity check was just annoying.
"Want me to prove it?"
"...Show me the coin app, then."
What followed was basically airport immigration. And when every possible method of verification had been exhausted, Minjae wore an expression of utter devastation — like someone had just voided his entire life.
"You really were a high schooler."
"I've been saying that the whole time."
"Unbelievable. Sorry to ask this when we just met, but do you have a girlfriend?"
"...I don't."
"I see."
The vacant look lasted only a moment. Then he hit me with that question that cut straight to the bone and immediately called someone.
"Hey, where are you? Yeah. If you've got time, come over to my place. Yeah, it's the real deal. Haa. Anyway, watch the stream and don't be late."
I had no idea who he was talking to, but I didn't particularly care. I was far more interested in Minjae's apartment.
This guy lives well. Whoa, look at that TV. How many inches is that?
For someone planning to move out on his own soon, Minjae's place was a treasure trove of interesting sights. The living room in particular — it looked like someone had transplanted an entire movie theater — I couldn't take my eyes off it.
"Hey, how many inches is that?"
"That one? Ninety, I think?"
"Is that the biggest they make?"
"These days they go over a hundred."
"Whoa. I'm definitely getting a bigger one."
Having your own home theater setup — wasn't that every guy's dream? What would it be like to watch a movie on something like this? Just imagining it sent a thrill through me. Honestly, this appealed to me far more than any of the luxury clothes I'd seen at the department store.
After a brief stretch of gawking at the television and the home theater, I came back to my senses and realized this wasn't the time. I turned my attention back to Minjae.
Fortunately, he didn't seem to mind. If anything, he watched me with a good-natured smile.
"Ahem. Sorry. I got a little carried away. It's just so cool."
"No worries. So how should we address each other?"
"Just talk comfortably. You're a lot older than me, after all."
Having spent my entire school life inside a three-grade system, a ten-year age gap felt vast. I honestly wasn't sure whether to call him hyung or something more formal.
"Should I? Well, I'll still use formal speech on stream, at least."
"Yes."
"We've got some time. Want a tour of the place?"
"Is that okay?"
Fortunately, Minjae took the lead in smoothing things over.
After that, I spent the time until the broadcast touring his apartment.
Minjae's place had so much to look at that I lost all track of time. The living room I'd already seen, a bachelor's kitchen stocked with every kind of snack and beer, and even a soundproofed studio.
The more I looked, the more I wanted to move out and build a space of my own.
"I've been thinking — a mask probably won't cut it. I'm just going to lower the cam."
"Yeah, that works."
While showing me the studio, Minjae walked me through the broadcast plan. Flashing money on stream was about as dangerous as it got, so rather than half-ass it with a mask, he'd decided to just drop the camera angle and keep my face off-screen entirely.
"Look this over until we're ready. I put together a few expected questions. It's a live stream, so things will go off-script, but it helps to have a sense of what's coming."
Then he handed me a list of questions.
There were a lot of interesting ones. How I got into crypto, my investment methods, the mindset for recovering after a loss — the coin-related stuff, of course — but also my daily routine, why I picked the username RunningWildHorse, what school I wanted to go to, my ideal type. Plenty of personal questions too.
As I read through them slowly, I couldn't help getting excited. It wasn't just the fact that I was going on stream. It was the chance to meet other coin traders in person — people I'd only ever known through the gallery.
Holding onto that anticipation, broadcast time arrived. I sat quietly beside Minjae, trying to hide how nervous I was. The stream was entirely under his control.
"Hey, everyone. Lot of viewers today."
When the stream went live and Minjae started his intro, I watched the chat scroll by at a blistering pace.
"As I announced, today's stream is with a certain gallery's living legend. RunningWildHorse is here with us. Come on, say hello?"
"Hello. I'm an investor who goes by RunningWildHorse on the gallery."
The moment I introduced myself, the chat erupted even faster. It was my first time on stream, and I could barely keep up with the reading.
A complete madhouse. Even Minjae looked like he was struggling to keep the chaos in check.
"Enough, enough. These assholes have lost their minds — everyone's just saying whatever they want. Calm down a second."
Only after he'd finally gotten the viewers to settle could the stream properly begin.
"Alright. Before we get into it, I owe you all an apology. Yes. I was wrong. WildHorse really is twenty."
Minjae's apology set the chat on fire all over again. I gave up trying to follow it. Too many messages were flooding in at once, and it was making my head spin.
"Ahem. And now — the verification you people have been begging for. Coming right up."
As if to wipe the embarrassment off the moment, Minjae dropped a calm BGM track and revealed the account I'd prepared. Even the viewers who'd been mocking him all this time let out a collective gasp at a balance none of them had ever seen before.
I felt a little proud, I had to admit. Money, unlike a diploma or a face, was a hard thing to show off. Unless it landed in a news article, nobody else was going to advertise it for you — and if you did the advertising yourself, you just became a rich idiot.
When you thought about it, wasn't that why wealthy people draped themselves in luxury brands? A clumsy attempt to express a fortune they couldn't just come out and display?
This is why I do the gallery.
In that sense, the coin gallery was an outlet for my desire — and a painfully straightforward one. A place where I could lay my accomplishments out in full, and people who would actually receive them. That was what the internet coin gallery was to me.
"Well? That enough for you?"
Minjae smiled, clearly satisfied with the viewers' reaction.
"Alright. Shall we take some questions and talk? Oh — and today's rate is ten dollars. We clear on that?"
Even the news that you'd have to donate ten dollars to ask a question didn't faze the viewers in the slightest. Of course it didn't. For advice from a legendary trader, ten bucks wasn't cheap — it was a steal. Far too much of one.
Sure enough, donations came flooding in.