Grow Up Healthy, Please (1)
I called Do-hee on my way to work.
“So… you’re saying you’ll just wait at Dora’s place all day today?”
From Do-hee’s perspective, it was something to tilt her head at. Mazia had never made this kind of offer before. For over a year, she had faithfully carried out her role as general manager in charge of the first generation under Cheon Do-hee’s orders. Yet she had never built any personal rapport with them—no shared meals, no casual hangouts.
Even after co-streaming with Rain and standing on the same stage without getting intimidated, her attitude remained unchanged. She still treated herself like nothing more than a lighting fixture on that stage. Just like how she always addressed Do-hee with perfect politeness as “President” at the office—though she had grown a bit cheeky lately, she still carried out every task flawlessly—the first-gen members seemed to be kept at a strict professional distance. They were idols she needed to support, nothing more.
Just looking at the chat logs from the past few days proved it.
In this way, Jia kept a very clear wall between herself and the girls. She wasn’t the type of person you could pull closer just because you wanted to. People often say there’s no point in playing tug-of-war with a wall, and suggesting “Hey, let’s hang out together” to Jia felt exactly like that.
After all, even if one person took a break, the rest of the first generation would still be streaming. And even if the first generation took the day off, Momo would still be on air. That meant her main job—monitoring—had to continue without pause.
Of course, if the first-gen members really pushed it, they could probably force the issue. Given Jia’s small, cute stature, anyone except Komari, who was around 150cm, could probably overpower her physically. Yet despite that size difference, the first generation could never just rush at her.
The biggest problem was broadcasting equipment. Who else would rush over without hesitation even in the middle of the night to fix it? And it wasn’t just the equipment. Whenever the members couldn’t decide on a game and were struggling, Mazia’s recommendations were always uncannily perfect. She knew the entire history of their streams, so she could pinpoint games they hadn’t played yet or exactly what the viewers wanted. It was like a kill pass—she’d strike at the perfect moment.
On top of that, she openly acted like she was the living embodiment of the “I” in MBTI. If someone tried to get too close and it made the first generation uncomfortable enough that she quit the company? It would only cause trouble for the girls. Everyone knew how much President Cheon Do-hee cherished Mazia. Getting on the president’s bad side at that point would be disastrous.
So the first generation had always just watched from a distance, thinking they could never get close to Mazia… until now.
Out of nowhere, Mazia had declared she would come over herself.
Do-hee listed off all the excuses Jia had used in the past.
“But won’t that be a problem? If you’re there, you won’t be able to monitor the other kids’ streams.”
“You always complained the screen was too small before.”
The moment she heard that response, Do-hee understood exactly what Mazia was thinking.
It was her way of saying: I’m an employee, I’m beneath the first generation, so I can’t just casually enter their personal spaces like a friend.
But after co-streaming with Rain recently, maybe Jia had realized something too. Maybe she’d thought, Have I been keeping too much distance from the kids all this time?
Of course, since Mazia’s mind operated on an unpredictable fourth-dimensional plane, anything Do-hee predicted was probably meaningless. Still, the fact that Mazia was willing to head over to Dora’s place early and wait was something Do-hee could only be grateful for. Whether she left from the office or from home, it took about twenty minutes either way. At night, even twenty minutes of dead air could be fatal—plenty of people would just call it a night and go to sleep.
That said, sending Jia alone did make her a little nervous.
“You know Dora might try to cling to you the whole time, right?”
Only then did Jia seem to remember what had happened before. It was a few months ago. Dora and Komari had played ten consecutive rounds of a Nintendo mini-game with a horror game penalty. Dora had lost completely and had to play the horror game. She was sobbing so hard she couldn’t even progress, so Jia had gone straight to her house out of worry for Komari.
In the end, Komari had become a human hugging pillow and had to sit in Dora’s arms watching the entire horror game with her. Even though Komari was relatively fearless, every time Dora jumped in surprise behind her, she would scream along. It had been adorable. Komari’s quiet, almost static screams combined with her genuine terror had made that stream’s live viewership, edited version, and clips all explode in views.
Anyway, the point of bringing this up was that today, Mazia might have to take on Komari’s role from back then.
Having properly understood Do-hee’s meaning, Jia muttered,
Of course, she didn’t forget to quietly add her own opinion at the end.
Honestly, if she would just stop adding those little comments, she’d be even cuter. Still, she was plenty adorable as she was. Was there any employee a boss loved more than one who quietly and efficiently handled everything she was supposed to do?
“I’ll tell the individual managers. If anything urgent comes up, they’ll contact you right away.”
Lately her speech had gotten a bit rounder and softer, which somehow made her look even cuter despite being slightly more cheeky than before. Do-hee gave her adorable employee one last piece of advice. They both already knew it well, but it still needed to be said.
“If you do get grabbed, be careful what you say. Your voice coming through isn’t really a problem, but watch your words. You already know that, right?”
Even though they had gotten a bit closer, she still wanted to stay outside the stream, huh? Well, the viewers would probably prefer her throwing in a few casual comments rather than staying completely silent. But if that was what Mazia wanted, Do-hee had no intention of interfering. Just having Mazia there with Dora and doing a simple self-introduction should be enough to keep the audience happy.
“Alright, alright. Do whatever’s comfortable for you.”
A few hours later, as I was packing up the things I’d need and getting ready to leave the office, the team leader spoke to me.
“Jia, I heard you’re heading over to watch Dora today.”
“Ah, yes. That’s right.”
“Take care. I spoke with the president, so I’ll be staying here today.”
“Hm? I thought you said you’d just tell the managers to contact me if needed.”
“I was going to, but I feel more at ease if I stay behind. You know how sometimes you take time off to go to the hospital? I’ve covered for you then, right?”
She was right. On days when I had no choice but to use annual leave, the team leader would put her own work on hold and take over monitoring duties. Since it only happened once or twice a year, she was usually the one who offered. The last time I’d handed over work like that was when I had caught COVID.
…Even thinking about it again, I really thought I was going to die back then.
I was lost in thought, remembering the beginning of the year, when the team leader gently pushed me toward the office exit by the shoulder.
“Hurry along now. Don’t worry about things here. If something really comes up that I can’t handle, I’ll call you.”
Kang Ji-ho, the team leader, laughed warmly as she saw me all the way to the office entrance.
I was about to leave when I suddenly thought of something and turned back.
“Please make sure to lock the office door at night. And when you leave, ask the security guard to walk out with you. Also, book a taxi in advance.”
The area around the office was all business buildings, so once I left for the day it became extremely quiet. Sometimes the atmosphere could feel overwhelming. That was why I’d said it.
For some reason the team leader just grinned and ruffled my hair.
“Hehe. Got it. Thank you, Jia.”
…Why is she laughing? I went out of my way to worry about her.
Anyway, I gave a polite bow and left.
By then, a message from Dora—who seemed to have finally woken up—had arrived.
It’s actually “Ten Thousand Soldiers and Ten Thousand Horses,” but whatever. Dora’s airheaded charm is part of her appeal, so I won’t point out the typo. The growth story of a dumb character slowly getting smarter is tasty too, but Dora sometimes shows flashes of genius in the most unexpected places and surprises everyone. It’s better to just take good care of her so she can stay as that bright, cheerful idiot for now.
It’s not for nothing that her fans keep repeating the phrase “Please just grow up healthy.”
Last time when the audio interface had broken, she had panicked and opened the door anyway. But apparently she was embarrassed to show that mess again. Laundry scattered everywhere, underwear hanging on exercise equipment she never used, empty water bottles and liquor bottles neatly lined up. It was the kind of sloppy sight she definitely didn’t want to show her fans.
It wasn’t like the fans didn’t know she was bad at cleaning. But hearing about it and actually seeing it were two different things. The illusion would shatter the moment they laid eyes on it.
Still, for Dora, it was better to leave it as a total wreck. If she cleaned anywhere, she absolutely must not touch the area around the computer. I had no intention of watching expensive equipment get ruined. If it broke, I’d have to file for approval again.