My First Convention, Part 3
The interior of the Ilco exhibition hall was an absolute madhouse. Amidst the raucous clamor of anime theme songs blaring through the speakers and crowds chanting and dancing to the beat, Gina reached over and tapped my shoulder.
“You heading straight over to set up a photo line? Or checking out the booths?”
“I don't think I'll be doing a photo line today.”
“Huh? Why not?”
“I just feel like I'm not quite ready yet.”
A photo line—or pora for short—referred to the practice of drawing a queue of people wishing to snap your picture over in the convention's designated cosplayer zone.
From a yuksu's perspective, it spared them the nerve-racking ordeal of having to muster up the courage to approach a cosplayer directly. From the cosplayer's perspective, watching a massive queue stretch out just to take their picture provided an unbeatable surge of self-esteem and pure dopamine. In short, everybody loved it.
According to the con reviews posted on the galleries, commanding a photo line gave you a taste of pseudo-celebrity status—as if you'd instantly transformed into a major star. They said the dopamine rush was so potent that once you experienced it, you were hooked for life.
Not gonna lie, I definitely wanted to experience that high myself.
Still... I'm not there yet.
As a rookie cosplayer, I was painfully aware of my own shortcomings. Even my makeup was amateur hour. I'd only managed to pull it together with extensive help from Gina and Aeru; if it smeared or started coming off halfway through the day, I wouldn't even know how to touch it up myself. On top of that, I hadn't even decided on what poses to strike when the cameras started flashing.
If I was going to draw a line of my own, I wanted to be properly prepared—to stand before them as a flawless, consummate Evrina.
“Mmm, standing in line is an amazing rush, but hey, it's totally up to you.”
“Whatever feels right for our Lina-chan~”
Fortunately, Gina and Aeru respected my decision.
“Thanks, guys.”
Relieved beyond measure that the first people I'd run into in this scene were so kind, I waved goodbye as we parted ways. After giving one last wave to their retreating backs as they headed toward the cosplayer zone, I dove headfirst into browsing the artist booths.
Naturally, with real money on the line, the booths gravitated heavily toward whatever happened to be in vogue. As a result, the vast majority of them were hawking merch for top-tier mobile games and VTubers.
Kind of a shame.
With so many stalls cornering the exact same market, most of the merchandise ended up looking practically identical. I understood that doujin circles had to turn a profit to survive, but from the viewpoint of a hardcore otaku who never missed an event, the narrow range of genres was a little disappointing.
Still, disappointment aside, my eyes darted left and right as I kicked off my shopping spree in earnest. Most were the usual suspects—acrylic stands I felt like I'd seen a hundred times before. But every now and then...
“Whoa...”
...something truly caught my eye.
The item that hooked my attention this time was an oppai wrist-rest mousepad featuring Rainy, the cover girl of Management Bureau Angel—a blockbuster mobile game that commanded the lion's share of booth space here. Drawn as if possessed, I drifted toward the stall.
“Welcome!”
The seller greeted me with a bright, welcoming smile. I ventured a tentative question:
“Um, would it be alright if I gave it a feel?”
“Of course! Go right ahead!”
“Thank you!”
Permission granted, I gently squeezed the bust on Rainy's display sample.
“Ooh...”
It felt... a little different from the real thing, but the supple squish beneath my fingers provided a stratospheric hit of pure, uncut psychological satisfaction.
“I'll take one.”
Isn't this the exact reason we slave away at our jobs, after all? To splurge when the moment strikes? Without an ounce of hesitation, I pulled open my wallet, purchased the oppai pad, and spun around.
“Whoa—!”
I jumped nearly out of my skin upon spotting someone hovering behind me like a restless phantom, fidgeting anxiously. Clearly, he'd been waiting in line to buy merch, only for me to hold him up while utterly mesmerized by the tactile wonder of a silicone breast.
“I'm so sorry!”
Mortified that I'd held up the line for so long, I gave a hasty bow of apology and prepared to scurry away. But right at that moment—
“C-Could I... trouble you for a photo?”
“Huh...?”
Contrary to my assumption that he'd been waiting for the booth, the man was actually asking for my picture. A monumental milestone: my very first photo request as a cosplayer.
Honestly, even from an objective standpoint, my post-gender-bend body was an absolute masterpiece. I'd anticipated getting asked for photos sooner or later, and because I'd seen it coming, I figured I wouldn't feel much of anything when it happened.
Yet, now that someone was actually asking in the flesh...
“Of course! Come on, let's take it right now!”
Man, this felt incredible.
Haaah... I seriously love attention.
Born to the venerable Lee Cheolsu and Mrs. Lee Heeja, Lee Yuhyeon was the treasured third-generation maternal grandson of the prestigious Deoksu Lee family. Raised with the utmost care, he had passed his college entrance exams with flying colors and gained admission to medical school, crowning himself the pride of the clan.
And the destination he had chosen to visit today was...
“Ohhh~”
...the exhibition hall of Ilsan Comic World, a place so thoroughly soaked in otaku culture that an outsider looking in might mistake it for the heart of Tokyo.
Throughout his high school years, he had lived at a breakneck pace where even two bodies wouldn't have sufficed, suppressing his inner otaku and keeping his true passions thoroughly buried. Now, having clinched his dream spot in medical school and become a university student, freedom was finally his. And so, summoning every ounce of courage he possessed, Lee Yuhyeon had stepped foot into the convention hall.
“Hikari o~”
Visiting an event like this for the very first time in his life, he hummed along to the hit anime opening blasting from the DJ stage as he explored this brave new world.
This is insane...
Everywhere he looked—left, right, and center—scantily clad 2D heroines assaulted his senses in a riot of vibrant color. While a deep-seated embarrassment prickled at his cheeks, paradoxically, he could feel a strange surge of vitality welling up inside his chest.
A born loner through and through, crowded places usually drained him to the bone; whenever semester-opening parties or college retreats rolled around, he'd feign illness just to skip them. Yet subculture was his true home turf. Far from feeling his energy sucked dry, he felt invigorated, like a dying battery hooking into a supercharger.
This is amazing.
Filled with genuine gratitude that he could indulge in an event like this for a mere seven thousand won, he strolled past the stalls until his gaze abruptly halted.
Wait... Evrina?
A cosplayer dressed as a character from his beloved mobile game, Lehel, was standing in front of a booth buying merchandise.
“Whoa...”
Lehel had been the emotional pillar that sustained him through the punishing, sleepless grind of college prep, and his devotion to the franchise ran bone-deep. Because it was a relatively niche title, there had been a conspicuous lack of Lehel booths, leaving him a bit deflated—which made stumbling upon an actual cosplayer here feel nothing short of miraculous.
Surging with joy, he felt an overwhelming urge to ask for a photo. Because she was busy buying merch, he could only see her back, but her face didn't particularly matter to him. All that counted was getting a photo with the character he adored.
“Ahem, ahem...”
He lived in near-perpetual silence, a habit that had once caused his voice to crack terribly during attendance roll call—a humiliation so burning it had formed his nervous tic of clearing his throat beforehand. After clearing the frog from his vocal cords, he tentatively fell in step behind her. Cutting in while someone was actively making a purchase would be unforgivably rude; his plan was to politely wait until she finished.
Naturally, well aware of how perilous social misunderstandings could be these days, he kept a meticulous, squeaky-clean safe distance between them.
“Um, would it be alright if I gave it a feel?”
“Of course! Go right ahead!”
“Thank you!”
The cosplayer was exchanging words with the booth vendor.
Give what a feel?
Even though he knew peeking was bad manners, curiosity got the better of him, and his eyes flicked sideways.
“...”
The instant he witnessed the cosplayer kneading the bust of an oppai mousepad while reacting like a middle-aged uncle, he snapped his gaze away in sheer shock.
So girls are fascinated by breasts too...
He quietly filed away this startling new piece of female psychology into his mental notepad.
“Thank you!”
With the cosplayer's purchase concluded, Yuhyeon, who had been averting his eyes, turned his head back to make his request. And in that split second, his eyes met those of the cosplayer, framed by a sharply striking, cat-like gaze.
Whoa... She looks real...
His very first thought was that Evrina had literally stepped out of the screen and into reality. The signature emerald-green eyes, the distinctive hair—both had been recreated to perfection. Her costume boasted supreme craftsmanship, and despite clearly being a flesh-and-blood human, her facial beauty rivaled the idealized proportions of a 2D rendering.
And above all else...
They're huge...
...she had faithfully, flawlessly embodied what could only be described as Evrina's defining hallmark: her gargantuan bust.
“...”
Frantically wrestling his gaze away from where it was instinctively drifting, he battled back a flush of shame and summoned up his resolve.
“U-Um... could I trouble you for a photo?”
After accepting the request, we moved over to an out-of-the-way corner so as not to block the flow of foot traffic. There, I struck a few of Evrina's signature poses from the game—clumsy though they might have been.
“T-Taking it now!”
The guy holding the camera was trembling like a leaf.
Hmm. Total greenhorn, huh?
When a yuksu achieves veteran status, snapping a solo shot of a cosplayer, taking a two-shot together, and scoring an exclusive solo selfie takes less than a single minute flat. This fellow, however, reeked of inexperience, behaving as if asking for a photo was uncharted territory.
I had days like that once, too.
A fresh newbie is a welcome sight in any fandom. Watching the poor guy fumble around like an awkward robot filled my chest with warm, nostalgic sympathy. In a gesture of pure veteran consideration, I transitioned through my poses deliberately and slowly. That seemed to give him his bearings, and he began snapping away in earnest.
“W-Whoa... That pose just now was Evrina's special clear animation from Chapter 3, wasn't it?! Man, you nailed it completely!”
“Oh? You recognized that?”
“Of course! I'm completely obsessed with Lehel!”
Unlike the con tourists who showed up strictly to gawk at girls without having touched the game or watched the anime, this guy clearly harbored genuine love for Lehel to spot a stage-clear animation on sight. Seeing someone recognize my beloved Evrina sent a giddy thrill through me. That was the classic otaku condition: the moment someone mentions your hyperfixation, your motor-mouth engages and your energy skyrockets through the roof.
“T-Thank you so much! Well, I'll be on my way—”
Having snapped his fill, the man bowed respectfully, looking thoroughly content and preparing to take his leave.
Tsk, tsk. See? This is why rookies need proper guidance.
“Hold on a second.”
“Yes?”
As he turned to walk away with only his solo shots, I gestured for him to come closer. Puzzled, he shuffled over. As a fellow yuksu who was years his senior in the trenches, I imparted my wisdom:
“If you only take pictures of me, it doesn't really feel like a memory. Let's get one together.”
“U-Uh...?”
The proposal to take a picture together stunned him completely into silence. I'd bet good money the guy had barely taken three selfies in his entire life.
“Here, let me see your phone for a sec.”
“H-Here...”
I took the phone from his hand, deftly flipped it to the front camera, and framed up the shot. Standing beside me, the guy offered a stiff, awkward smile and flashed a nervous peace sign. Terrified of getting too close, he was practicing full-blown "yuksu social distancing," which meant his face was practically sliced in half at the edge of the frame.
If he leaves it like that, he's gonna stare at his photo gallery tonight and kick himself.
Letting out a quiet mental sigh, I resolved to bestow one final act of veteran grace: I wrapped my arm around his neck. Tugging him firmly into my personal space until both our faces fit snugly inside the viewfinder—
Click, click, click.
I hammered the shutter button in rapid succession.
“...”
The man went as rigid as a petrified corpse, looking for all the world as if he'd just encountered a ghost. After rattling off about ten solid shots, I pressed the smartphone firmly back into his palm.
And then, committing fully to Evrina's persona until the very end, I mimicked the exact farewell salute she performed when set as the secretary character upon closing the game:
“Commander... until our next encounter.”