Chapter 12
"Ah... seriously..."
Hand to my forehead, I was overcome with a gloomy mood.
Today's Luca stream title: [Round 3 Audition Recap / Short & Chill]
Luca's avatar on screen beamed with unbridled joy, grinning brightly. She'd blush a little with a cheeky expression, or stars would sparkle in her eyes.
But I couldn't hear a word she was saying.
No one had forced earplugs on me. It was entirely my own doing—I'd teared up and hit mute of my own free will.
I wanted to join the viewer ranks, spam the chat, and cheer Luca on. But the chains of real life weighed me down too heavily.
Retribution for what I had done. No one else.
Junseok stared at me with eyes that screamed he couldn't comprehend.
"...Gotta do it now, before I'm too busy someday."
I figured I could burn myself out for two days straight if it meant smooth streams and audition prep for Luca.
Of course, I was prepping materials with a "streams first! Team project can wait?" mindset... but damn, I missed her broadcast so much.
It felt like everyone else was toasting and partying at a festival, while I slaved away alone in my room.
Still, it was a short stream—she even labeled it that way. Rationalizing a five-minute break, I mashed the volume button.
"Manaaaager~~~~"
A voice laced with headache vibes. Luca's tone was cute as ever, but the words? Not so much.
"Kick out everyone here calling me Fuckidol~~"
Fuckidol? It didn't take long to figure out where that came from.
"Nooo, guys! I'm literally one step from being a real idol—how am I supposed to handle you all calling me Fuckidol?!"
Luca's avatar wildly shook its head.
"Seriously... that day wasn't me cursing, it was..."
She tried to explain, but the chat ignored her completely.
Ew... these degenerates...
Once I pieced it together, I couldn't hold back the laughter.
Fuckidol, huh. Even if she passes finals and debuts for real, could she ever shake that tag?
"Fuckidol Luca."
It rolled off the tongue too easily. Shutting down those trolls wouldn't be a quick fight.
In the end, Luca put on a show with her viewers.
"Fine, guys. I'll own it. Fuckidol. It's not some random bullshit—it was me."
"But the chat getting plastered with swears like this? Kinda not cool."
"Looks bad, and what if people from other streams see? The whole chat flooded with profanity."
"Just tweak it somehow, or initials... Nah, that won't work either."
The second she mentioned initials, the chat exploded with SB combos.
"Stop stop! Ugh... seriously... you all... why're you so damn good at the nasty stuff..."
"Okay then, from now on, come up with the best nickname using initials SBD!"
"Pick a good one, we'll go with that. Fuckidol is done! No more!"
Aaah... gotta wrap this up quick and send it to Junseok...
Stream still running, ten minutes gone, but I couldn't kill the volume.
How could I? Curiosity killed the cat.
Internet stream viewers' meme game was always next-level. Weren't there people that hilarious around me? Where did these cyber ghosts hide, these hermit comedians?
Luca's avatar snorted in disbelief.
"Ooh, this one's good."
From the flood of suggestions, the nickname Luca picked was...
"Ddanddanddan! That's the one!"
Despite the boos pouring in, Luca stubbornly pushed her choice.
"Alright~ From now on, call me Sage Idol instead of Fuckidol~ Hawawa~"
And just like that, the chat plummeted into hell again.
Watching Luca bicker with her viewers once more, I finally hit home.
"Yeah..."
Looks fun. Lucaland.
Because I'm holding down the fort here, Luca and her fans can play like that.
I turned back to my monitor and let out a deep sigh.
"...Ugh. I really don't wanna do this."
Didn't make digging through research any easier.
"Phew..."
I hit end stream and exhaled shortly.
I'd expected "Fuckidol" to stick after that YouTube clip, but not this level of spam.
Calling a cute virtual girl "Fuckidol" felt a bit much, even for me.
But before blaming viewers, it was my fault for dropping the f-bomb that day.
I knew it was live, but I was too shocked. Can't help it.
Thought I'd cut back on swears going forward, but the situation got me.
Last train of the last train—how could I not freak?
The lifeline tossed to me when I'd given up snapped me out of it.
I opened my phone, checked Messenger. Group chat overflowing.
Team project... The audition high faded quickly. Messages piled up, weighing heavily.
Busy wasn't a lie. Even now, break over—I had company docs to fill pronto.
For final acceptance into the virtual idol group Closer Project, they wanted deeply personal stuff.
Middle/high school transcripts. All SNS accounts in my name.
Explained every trainee submits 'em, so I got it. Big corp rules.
Made sense—no school violence or scandal risks.
That later. I scrolled the chat down.
Taemin-oppa... Like his feet were on fire, nonstop sending docs for approval.
Even extras before Junseok-oppa checked. Made me feel twice as guilty.
He insisted on covering my share, and damn, he was working harder than anyone.
But it nagged at me a bit. Like Junseok-oppa said that day with class, Taemin-oppa had no "reason."
No obligation to cut me slack.
Racking my brain, maybe guilt from dumping me before...? But I knew it wasn't some lingering fondness.
After rejection that harsh, entertaining "maybe he still...?" was foolish.
Didn't make me any less grateful, though...
I opened our private chat—vowed never again.
Our convo ended with his [Yeah].
Memories flooded back; I couldn't hide the bitterness.
This was the day he shot me down. Me.
Eyes closed, deep breath. Then fingers moved slow.
Tossed in a giftcon for cake and coffee. Not much, but showed effort, right?
The yellow "1" vanished instantly. He'd seen it.
Braced for reply, gripped phone tight. But nothing came.
Even scolding would've been fine—just something quick. I'd tasted this wait in auditions.
Better hit first than get hit.
...Why so damn kind? For real.