Author-nim, Please Do Community Activities Only After Consulting Me (6)

Not long after word came that Suho was back, the ten-minute timer ran out. It had been ten minutes of pure hell, but the moment she hit the success button, a swell of accomplishment rose in her chest.

So do I just keep up a running monologue with myself the entire time I'm streaming..? If it were a writing session she could at least beg the audience's understanding, but this broadcast existed for the very purpose of talking with people. Ugh..

When she pressed the mission-complete button, a triumphant fanfare blared out and gave her a small start; she announced that Part 1 would wrap up here, that she'd rest a little before resuming with Part 2, and left the intro screen running.

"Noona."

"Eek?!"

Suho had been standing in the room for a while now. The reason I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his voice was the chill I could feel dripping off every word he said.

"If you were going to stream, you should have told me first."

"..Uh.. sorry. I just got so lonely all of a sudden."

"I'm sorry — what?"

"No, it's just — after spending all that time with you, being alone again felt kind of.. lonely?"

I couldn't have said why it came out sounding like a question tossed his way, but the fact remained: I had been lonely without him.

"Whew.. please don't do that again."

"Okay."

Hearing Suho repeat my own scolding right back at me, word for word, he might have been a child imitating his parents. No matter how grave he made his expression, there wasn't a shred of authority in that boyish face — but the sincerity underneath came through all the same.

Was it really that much trouble for him? Making a show of a good stretch, I tore my eyes away from his face.

My skittering gaze landed on the stream page glowing on the monitor. The withdrawable balance had changed yet again.

It's gone up again already..

"It doesn't feel real, raking in over a hundred thousand won in the space of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a few minutes.."

"And if that leads you to give up writing.. you know what happens, right?"

The smug grin spreading across Suho's face was downright infuriating.

"...No. That is never going to happen."

I fully intended to change back one day — which meant, naturally, that I needed the cure.

"Did you tell them how long the break would be?"

"I didn't put it in writing. The stream's still live, too."

"Hmm. Let's start Part 2, then. I'll back you up like I did last time."

"Yeah. Thanks."

It had been a brief break, but to the viewers it must have felt like an eternity. The instant the cam flickered back to life and Song Gaon's voice came through the microphone, the viewers waiting to welcome her began asking what Part 2 would be about.

"All right, I'm back!"

Seeing the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠chat, which had slowed to a crawl, pick up speed again, Gaon's red lips curled in satisfaction.

"Part 2, like I mentioned earlier, is voting time — we're deciding what my next work is going to be."

Gaon couldn't very well pick one of the twenty-nine and start it on her own. Some had been written ages ago, others comparatively recently, and she had a feeling that if she led with the ones the years had left behind — the ones no longer in step with current trends — her resolve would snap somewhere along the way.

Back in the days when she had sealed off every possible channel to her readers, Gaon could have written alone, eyes fixed on nothing but the monitor. Not anymore. Having discovered how much fun it was to connect through her viewers, she had resolved to get as close to her readers as she possibly could. The pocket-change donations aside, it was simply fun — knowing this many people were rooting for her.

And to think I never knew any of this. Letting out a faint sigh inwardly, Gaon spoke up.

"First.. out of the twenty-nine, I'll be running two of them as simultaneous serials."

"As most of you have guessed, I'll be uploading the early chapters remake-style, as fast as I can possibly manage."

Most of the series had stalled somewhere around episode one hundred; the ones she had poured herself into ran past five hundred, while the ones she had barely touched didn't even reach fifty. She had no intention of forcing every series to match episode for episode, but Song Gaon, who meant to carry each one to at least the 150-episode mark, was looking at a daily output of ten thousand characters at minimum.

And while revisions would smooth the road in the early going, the further a story ran, the more it tangled itself back into its own opening material and setups — there was only more to keep straight in her head as she wrote. A protagonist never stayed the same, after all; they changed with every story they lived through.

Can I actually pull this off..? Gaon kept the smile fixed on her face, but she was afraid. Not the vague fear of the unknown — the fear of someone who knew exactly what was coming.

However entertaining a premise looked on day one, a serial was only ever fun if someone was there taking joy in reading it. She knew from experience that grit could carry her through the early stretch, and that sooner or later it became a war against herself. Back when she had been cleaning up the messes her past self had made, the moment she saw her readership dip even slightly, her drive had snapped clean in two.

Well, none of that matters now.. The contract was already stamped and sealed. And there was no way she was letting slip a prize as precious as the cure. It'll work out somehow — and with that thought, her heart settled.

A small crease formed between the brows of Gaon, who had been skimming the comments with an easy mind.

Ha.. right. I'm a repeat offender. She might never have dropped a meteorite on anyone, but she had abandoned serials beyond counting.

"No. This time I will finish every single one of them. I mean it."

Naturally, the reactions came in dripping with sarcasm. Telling herself she had agreed to shoulder even this, Gaon coaxed her courage back up and said,

"Because if I can't bring every one of my works to completion this time, I have to get married."

At Song Gaon's words, Lee Suho, seated behind ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the monitor, shot to his feet. The chat, already fast, began pouring in without a moment's pause, as though a tsunami had made landfall.

...Was that really worth this kind of reaction..? Gaon, who had no idea how much weight her words could carry, stole a glance at the chat window and blanched. This was, after all, the woman who had once been so afraid of the messages readers sent with their donations that she had blocked donations outright. Her community life had always been lived as developer Song Gaon — never once as author Song Gaon — and so she had never so much as been moderated on Novel World. Knowing nothing of the difference between the freewheeling developer community and the minefield an author had to cross one careful step at a time, she was, for all practical purposes, a newborn.

Oblivious to the weight of words spat out live on a stream, Song Gaon had just caused a catastrophe of the highest order.

A catastrophe only she herself failed to notice.

Unable to keep pace with a chat suddenly scrolling several times faster than usual, Gaon looked over at Suho, standing across the room. The sight of that perpetually unflappable demon king glaring daggers at her sent a chill down her spine.

Did I.. do something wrong? At first he had seemed merely flustered by the marriage remark, but now he looked downright angry. He's the one who said he'd file the marriage papers. Why is he like this..?

Sunk alone in the swamp of her own thoughts, Song Gaon had no way of knowing how she came across on the cam now broadcasting her face. The viewers who had stayed this long were the ones who had welcomed her return with open arms. There had of course been people waiting to slander her and curse her out — most of them tuned in believing she was that disgraced ex-author, back as a pretty young cam streamer—

But the only messages Gaon caught in that scrolling window, just for a moment, were the ones doubting her. And she wanted to give those people something to believe in. She wanted to be cheered for the person she had become, for everything she was about to show them.

Shameless as that might be.

"It's true. Which is why this time, I have no choice but to finish every last one of my old works."

Song Gaon, speaking straight into the cam, looked for all the world like a girl swallowing back tears as she made her vow. The chat, still racing along, abruptly froze.

Watching the reaction, Song Gaon let her eyes drift over the window — now, finally, at a readable speed — and typed to Suho:

The moment Suho saw her flying across the keyboard, he hurried back into his seat and fired off a reply.

There, in the chat window sitting beside the messenger she had opened to talk with Suho, she could see them calling for her. Watching the chat surge like torches lifted by an enraged mob, Song Gaon blurted out,

"Ah.. um.. the chat's moving too fast.. I'm not juicing you, I swear, so please don't donate!"

A bratty little voice came piping through her earphones without a care in the world, and the flustered Song Gaon snapped back to her senses.

Oh no.. Perhaps because she had written nothing but that kind of novel, even the inside of her head was stocked with words like that.

At the sight of Suho's soundless bellow, Gaon opened her guilty mouth once more, desperate to walk it back.

"Gah—no, I mean.. that was not donation-baiting!"

The chat had already descended into open chaos.

Suho set about banning the line-crossers in his own fashion, but it was a drop in the bucket.

"Maybe I should just get banned myself?"

Song Gaon had blurted aloud something meant for Suho's ears alone, and the instant it left her mouth she knew she'd slipped. Only then did she clap a hand over her lips.

"No.. ha.. I'll just take a ten-minute ban and come back.."

Killing the mic and the cam in a panic and flipping the intro screen back on, Song Gaon began to scream.

"AAAGH!!"

Suho glanced sidelong at Song Gaon as she screamed, both hands clutching her head, and said evenly,

"Noona, I mean it — clear your streams with me first."

"I'm sorry.."

And the chat, still scrolling, went on chanting Song Gaon's name without pause.