Chapter 2
“Hey, Taemin. Can't you just come to the club with me one more day? For real.”
“No.”
Seo Yoonje, my classmate with the same student ID. This guy never got tired of it—today, like always, he was pitching the club to me.
“Argh... seriously... it's too intense going alone. It'd be way easier with someone like you there, you know?”
Last time, he'd begged and pleaded for just once, so I'd gone along—and I should've known better. In that quiet room, I stuck to my wireless earbuds, but the blasting music nearly deafened me. And the whole club vibrating with cigarette smoke? Utterly revolting.
“Ugh, I hate clubs, you handle the girls yourself. Hell, go with some other guys? Hey, how many times have I said the same damn thing?”
I felt like a broken record.
“Damn it... out of all our classmates, you're the only one with your looks, you know? That's why I'm clinging to you like this~ Come on, Taemin. Please?”
He figured showering me with compliments on my appearance would suck me in. Clearly delusional.
Time for drastic measures. I hit him with a truth laced with fifty percent lies.
“Hey. Don't I need to date someone too?”
Yoonje's eyes went wide.
“What? You've got your eye on some girl lately? Whoa, shit. Why didn't you say anything? Our school? No way, our department?”
“None of your business. Hey, I've got a general elective. I'm out.”
I brushed it off with a vague lie, patted his shoulder a couple times, grabbed my tray, and headed for the exit.
A guy with my decent looks chasing skirts? That'd be a blessing. But for someone like me, barely interested in girls? Nothing more annoying.
“Hello~”
“Oh? Hi, Senior Taemin~”
Two underclassmen from our department, I figured, greeted me in the hallway by the elevator.
“Hey. Hi.”
I gave a half-hearted nod and whipped out my phone—just in case they asked questions. Don't talk to me. Don't talk to me. Don't talk to me. Don't talk to me. I don't want to get close to you guys at all.
Out of the school building, I bolted for the bus stop. I had my reasons for hurrying like this.
No... Luca... why the hell did you start streaming at such an awkward time?
Checking Luca's stream title, I cursed the gods. Viewer participation, no less...
Every time Luca did viewer collabs, I'd apply—but I'd never once been picked. Not for games with 100 slots, not even duos for just two players.
Sometimes I thought about changing my nickname, but no way.
A few months back, Luca had read my donation and complimented the name, so I couldn't ditch this cursed thing.
Of course, she skimmed over my donation message, but just hearing she liked my name—and knowing one day she might go, “Ah~ that subscriber with that name~”—filled my heart to bursting.
I hopped off the bus I'd just caught and raced to my place, punching in the code.
-Beep beep beep biiip. Damn it... rushed and messed up.
Calmly re-entering, I kicked off my half-removed shoes, slammed the power button on my PC, tossed my bag, shed my jacket, and unlocked my phone.
“Please... just let this game drag on a bit...”
The match was in its final stretch. This fight would decide win or lose.
Luca's frantic keyboard mashing hit my ears like ASMR.
The enemy team targeted Luca, the ranged DPS. With any game sense, she could've dodged—but her skills wouldn't allow it.
Frozen by an enemy skill, she died right there. Viewers panicked without their carry, getting picked off one by one.
Defeat, obviously.
Luca apologized sincerely, but the chat was tame compared to her freakout.
Of course, if my PC had been on, I'd have spammed “Of course lolololol.”
As casual reactions piled up, Luca's avatar pouted indignantly.
One viewer's joke ignited the chat into a blaze of “Luca intentional troll” theories. 800 viewers, even off-peak.
She powered through smoothly, unruffled. I smiled warmly. A few months ago, she'd have defended herself for 30 minutes. No more newbie—she was a pro streamer now.
Why no PC boot sound? Staring at my phone from the chair, I looked up.
17%
Do not turn off your computer.
Damn this piece-of-shit PC. The expensive rig only updated when I needed it most.
Taemin missed his shot again, watching Luca duo with other viewers. But just watching wasn't boring. Seeing her try hard despite sucking was fun; the chat's memes matched my thoughts perfectly.
This game dragged—both teams equally bad, pure chaos.
Advice and flames flew, but Luca was too busy maneuvering.
During downtime farming XP, the enemy assassin—probably Luca's sniper nemesis—oneshot her with a combo.
-Thud. Her fist slammed the keyboard.
Hurt, Luca sulked; chat unleashed axe emojis.
Gray screen up, Luca checked the chat and fought back.
Past victims of “Luca's revenge” had complained, so she sweetly begged restraint.
The sniper asshole crumbled their team naturally. Another loss.
Despite the sniper, winnable moments abounded. Sorry, Luca, but I secretly cheered her loss.
30 minutes till major class group project meeting. A win would fit one game perfectly. If it dragged, I'd ask to start 10 mins early.
Her eyes flicked to the taskbar.
No... Luca... I'd logged in and everything...
Sigh... oh well.
Stream ended soon after. Depressed, I joined voice chat. At least we're doing this from home, not school or elsewhere.
Ah... but... this group project... I scanned the member list and sighed deeply.
I had to team up with her—the girl I'd dumped months ago—through semester's end.