An Unexpected Hook
Help! Choi Bom wasn’t particularly good with the internet, unlike most kids her age. She claimed it was because she’d had a clear dream and goal of becoming an actress since she was young, leaving her no time to waste on such things. The accepted theory was that after her first drama, curiosity had driven her to search for people’s reactions, only to stumble across comments badmouthing her. The shock had left her with a negative view of the internet ever since.
Because of that, Choi Bom was always behind on the latest trends. Compared to kids who casually threw around internet slang, she was often praised for being remarkably mature in both language and mindset.
Yet here she was, lying on her stomach in bed and fiddling with her phone. The device, which she normally used only for calls, was finally displaying an internet browser.
Why is she making me watch this…? Is she actually more of a troublemaker than she looks?
The small child she’d met at the broadcasting station—the one who’d introduced herself as Seo Sua—had asked her to keep what she’d said about her uncle a secret. In exchange, she’d demanded something. If it had been money or an object, Choi Bom would have preferred that. But no, it had to be internet broadcasts…
Weren’t internet broadcasts just collections of indecent, immoral behavior chasing after nothing but stimulation? Choi Bom let out a deep sigh and clicked on the YouTube channel Seo Sua had given her. Something about editing broadcast footage and uploading short clips. The main video displayed had already surpassed a million views, so it seemed popular enough.
Well then… I might as well start with the most popular one.
Since she hadn’t been told to watch anything specific, she clicked on the highest-viewed video with its ridiculous thumbnail.
Huh, the video quality is pretty clean. YouTube’s production values have gotten good these days.
She’s streaming while showing illustrations? And people actually watch this? Is she a voice actor?
She’s playing a game… I don’t really know much about games, but I can still follow along, I guess.
For Choi Bom, who only subscribed to animal videos and rebroadcast channels from the networks, a no-cam game streamer’s YouTube channel was an entirely new genre. She might have felt some resistance, but the smooth, precise editing prevented that feeling from taking hold. Besides, contrary to her expectations, there was no dancing while exposing cleavage or any overly violent scenes. There were occasional excited curses, but they were handled with subtitles, mosaics, and filtering, so they didn’t feel off-putting. If anything, those raw moments made it feel more authentic than TV broadcasts, which made it a little more…
……
The video ended. A slightly upbeat outro played as recommended videos and the streamer’s information appeared on screen.
“…I might as well watch one more.”
It was too different from what she’d imagined. It wouldn’t be fair to judge after just one video. She’d watch at least one more. Her finger naturally moved to the next video. If she was going to form an opinion, she should at least watch two, right?
“…Ah, I still can’t tell.”
Next video. Next video. Next video. Next video. And another next video.
“…Kkh, khuhup.”
She covered her mouth with her hand, stifling her laughter. Another video ended just like that. Next video… Huh?
What? There aren’t any more?
The moment she realized there were no more videos to play, her eyes widened. A sense of disappointment and an inexplicable fluttering in her chest washed over her.
Maybe I was being too negative about it…
She’d enjoyed it far too much. It was a completely different kind of fun from TV variety shows. So this was why people liked it. She had no choice but to admit it now. Reflecting on how she’d dismissed internet broadcasts as vulgar, she finally checked the time—and froze.
Wait, hold on. It’s already 3 a.m.?!
Time had flown by without her noticing. The nonstop rush of dopamine from the entertainment had erased both her fatigue and her sense of time.
I have to wake up at 7! This is bad!
Only then did she frantically dive under her blanket and close her eyes. Of course, her heart, once it had started racing, refused to calm down, and the hilarious scenes kept replaying in her mind.
I’m so tired…
In the end, Choi Bom barely managed to drag herself out of bed at 7 a.m. and staggered through her schedule for the day.
Internet broadcasts… I really need to hold back…
Feeling like she might collapse from exhaustion, she genuinely meant it.
***
I sipped my cocoa and watched Bom senior on TV. In a typical romantic comedy drama, she was playing the male lead’s childhood friend. The scene was shot in an unusual first-person perspective. From the protagonist’s point of view, a slightly younger Bom senior spoke with a trembling voice.
The two young protagonists linked their pinkies with their tiny hands. Bom senior left the teardrops falling freely down her cheeks and forced a bright, strained smile—as if she wanted the person she liked to remember her final expression as a smile rather than tears. As if to say this farewell wasn’t the end, but the beginning of a wait for reunion.
The screen, shown from the male lead’s first-person perspective, blurred with tears before he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the scene had changed. A different place. The faded wallpaper was now a clean white, and the old furniture had been replaced with stylish pieces. The protagonist rose from the bed and walked slowly toward the mirror from a higher viewpoint. The flashback ended with a third-person shot of the adult male lead shedding a single tear.
She’s incredible.
The thought came naturally. First, Bom senior’s acting. Now I understood why she’d been so proud of it. Especially since even the uncle had called her a genius. In the flashback, the male lead never appeared because it was first-person. That meant all the camera’s focus was on the female lead alone. Yet instead of feeling awkward, her performance created incredible immersion and perfected even the subtlest emotional shifts.
The second thing that impressed me was the directing. Using first-person perspective was quite bold, but it was handled so naturally.
First-person shots weren’t common in video media. They mostly appeared in movies or games to heighten action tension, and were almost never used in dramas. In stories where emotional arcs mattered, the absence of the protagonist made it hard to build emotional investment.
This probably only worked because of Bom senior’s acting.
The female lead had single-handedly carried the emotional weight that normally required both actors, since she was the only one visible on screen. If Bom senior’s performance had been even slightly lacking, this flashback scene would have felt awkward for sure.
So this is what a true genius looks like.
And the PD who had maximized that genius’s performance with his direction was impressive too.
“Since when do you watch dramas instead of broadcasts?”
The uncle, fresh out of the shower, walked into the living room while drying his hair with a towel. Water dripped from his still-damp body onto the floor, but he paid it no mind as he flopped onto the sofa.
“Put some clothes on, please.”
“I’m wearing pants. It’s my house—can’t I even do this much? I used to not wear pants when you weren’t here.”
“…That’s information I didn’t need to know.”
“But why a drama? Oh, this is the one Choi Bom’s in. Were you curious?”
“Yeah, well… She said we should get along, so I figured I should at least know a little about her.”
Come to think of it, I’d half-threatened Bom senior into watching the video I edited. I’d done it to change her perception of internet broadcasts. Even if it wasn’t her taste, I hoped her view had shifted at least a little.
As I was thinking that, the uncle’s hand, which had been shaking water everywhere, stopped. He lifted his head.
“Ah, right. That thing arrived.”
“What thing?”
“The microphone I ordered last time. It came this morning, but I forgot to mention it.”
“Ooh.”
Now I could finally talk to Oh Serin properly. It would’ve been simple if I had a phone, but I didn’t. I couldn’t keep borrowing the uncle’s every time either. Even if I tried to buy one, I’d met the monetization requirements, but it would take nearly two months for the money to actually reach my account.
I should set up the microphone and let Oh Serin know.
“Where is it?”
“I already installed it while you were sleeping. Go check it out.”
“It wasn’t an expensive one, right?”
“Yeah, you nagged me so much that I got one under 100,000 won.”
“Even 100,000 won is expensive…”
I’d asked the uncle to handle it because it seemed better to leave technical stuff to someone with expertise. I’d specifically warned him not to buy anything expensive. I shot him a suspicious look as he spoke so casually, then headed to my room.
It was the same room as always, except for one new addition on the desk. A microphone floating in the air, held by a mic arm. Well, the mic arm made sense since it freed up desk space. But…
“Unless my eyes are playing tricks on me… why is there an audio interface on my desk? And a Babyface, at that?”
“If the call quality’s bad, it’ll be hard on the other person. And if other sounds leak in, it’ll be uncomfortable for both of you. This is basic stuff if you’re studying sound.”
“Even so, a Babyface…”
An audio interface was a device that let you control microphone quality with even more precision and clarity. Shortened to “audio interface.” Among them, the Babyface was a professional-grade model and quite pricey. It was on the cheaper side for pro equipment, but still expensive. Even with a cheap microphone and arm combined, we were looking at nearly a million won…
I stared at the uncle in disbelief. He just grinned shamelessly.
“I bought the mic cheap, didn’t I?”
“…I’ll pay you back later.”
“Forget it. Think of it as an investment. In this industry, good equipment will definitely come in handy someday. You might as well use it now so you’re ready.”
I had no idea when I’d ever use a professional audio interface, but after he said that, I had nothing left to argue with. …Honestly, I kind of wanted to try it anyway.
I muttered in a small voice, “Thank you…”
“If you’re grateful, go put some clothes on and get out.”
“Outside… why?”
“I’m taking you out for exercise.”
“Oh, but today I really wanted to test out the new equipment…”
“If you don’t come out, I’m taking it back.”
“Uuuuugh!”
I’d planned to watch dramas, edit videos, and lie around all day after waking up! Damn it!
***
With trembling legs barely holding me up, I returned home, dragged my exhausted body into the shower, and let hot water pour over me. My stiff muscles loosened in real time, and I felt like a piece of meat soaking in apple juice. I’d gotten used to using the bathroom and showering in this body. Compared to the beginning, when I’d held it in until the last possible moment because I didn’t want to deal with it, this was real progress. Back then, the smell had even gotten me beaten up by some thugs.
“Aaaah… This feels so good…”
I barely resisted the urge to just fall asleep under the water and stepped out of the shower once my body was warm. I dried my long hair—now reaching my waist—with the hairdryer. I finally understood why girls took so long to wash up. I was getting pretty good at it now. After drying my hair, I tossed my clothes and towel into the laundry basket and went to my room to turn on the computer. I still had to edit today’s video, after all.
Ding—
The Discord notification sounded right after Windows finished booting. Since Oh Serin was the only one who messaged me, I opened the chat, wondering if something had happened.
Oh Serin’s messages came in rapid succession.