What's Wrong with Cold Sweet Potato?
What's wrong with "Cold Sweet Potato"?
Clack, clack, clack.
As my fingers tapped away on the keyboard, lines of text began to fill the screen before me. I had firmly made up my mind to start a YouTube channel. If so, what was the absolute first step to running a successful channel? Hiring professional talent, of course.
"Hiring... video editor... Come to think of it, how much am I supposed to pay them?"
I planned to find a professional PD and editor in the Video Editing Gallery, the holy land of video editors. The problem was that I was a complete novice when it came to the YouTube video editing ecosystem. As a result, I was hitting countless roadblocks just trying to draft a simple job posting.
How should I structure the pay? What kind of benefits should I offer? Which editing software should I require them to use? Everything was completely foreign to me.
"Is there no one who can help me?"
My disastrous social life dragged me down once again. If only I had a YouTuber among my acquaintances, I could have asked them for advice. As I rubbed the back of my neck in frustration, a sudden realization hit me.
"Oh? Wait, there is someone."
Kim Su-hyun. A YouTube creator with 1.1 million subscribers and a highly respected internet personality in her own right. Most importantly, she was one of the very few people I could actually call a friend. Without a second thought, I opened ChatTalk and sent her a message.
The read receipt vanished less than a minute after I sent it. She had to be glued to her phone all day. While I was still marveling at her lightning-fast response time, my phone buzzed.
Why the sudden silence? The read receipt was gone, meaning she'd seen it. As I stared blankly at the screen, a familiar vibration announced her reply.
Chuckling, I tapped out a reply.
I had no intention of dragging my feet on this. Since I'd made up my mind, I wanted to get everything sorted out today. So, I pushed a little harder.
Of course I was serious. It definitely wasn't because I was too lazy to get dressed and go outside. Judging by her reaction, she didn't seem to mind the idea either. We lived pretty close to each other anyway, so it was a win-win.
And just like that, a meeting to take the first step toward launching my YouTube channel was set.
It was my first day off from streaming in a while, and I was rolling around in bed, thoroughly enjoying the peace and quiet.
Bzzz.
My phone vibrated in my hand, and a ChatTalk notification popped up at the top of the screen.
I bolted upright, sitting on the edge of the bed with my hair in a wild mess. The great Kim Sung-woo, texting me first? Was this even real life? My fingers flew across the screen as I quickly replied, pretending to be casually resting.
"Ugh..."
Of course. I was an idiot for expecting anything sweet from Kim Sung-woo. Letting out a deep sigh, I asked him what the favor was.
YouTube? Kim Sung-woo?
I stared at the screen, completely dumbfounded by his sudden declaration. Kim Sung-woo as a YouTuber... why did that actually sound like a perfect fit?
Thanks to his recent appearance on Na Honza Sanya, his already massive fame had skyrocketed through the roof. I couldn't help but feel a surge of curiosity about what kind of content he would create if he actually went through with this. Surely he wasn't joking, right? Feeling a bit anxious, I asked if he was serious.
Oh. He really was serious. Meeting up to help him wasn't a big deal.
Wait, does he mean right now?
I tore my eyes away from the screen and looked at the mirror on the opposite wall. Messy hair, dry skin, and a face practically dripping with exhaustion. My half-asleep self was in no condition to go out in public. I was just about to text him that today wasn't a good day.
How could I possibly say no when he was begging me with a cute emoji he'd normally never use?
Come to think of it, we haven't seen each other in a while.
On the day we met at the real estate agency for the contract, we had shared a meal and confirmed our mutual feelings. But reality isn't a drama. Real life doesn't offer convenient developments where confirming mutual attraction instantly turns you into a couple. We hadn't known each other for very long, and above all, Sung-woo's background was incredibly unique. When it came to dating, he would naturally be far more cautious and careful than an ordinary person.
And it's not like I can just throw myself at him...
Sung-woo was a viewer of my stream and a major donor who had sponsored me with astronomical sums. More than anything, the massive titan known as Taewung Group stood right behind him. Of course, my feelings were for Kim Sung-woo the person, but I didn't want my emotions to be misconstrued as something shallow or materialistic. That was why I had been so careful not to show my feelings, hoping our relationship would naturally progress over time.
Maybe I should just go see him. It's been a while.
Suppressing a giggle, my fingers moved across the screen again. The answer was already decided, so I asked him where we should meet.
Did I read that right? I blinked, my head tilting in confusion. No matter how many times I checked, Kim Sung-woo was definitely inviting me to his house. I double-checked to see if he'd sent it by mistake, but his reply remained firm. He probably didn't think much of it, but a single text message made me grin like an idiot. How long had it been since I'd smiled like this?
For the first time in a while, I got ready to go out.
"So, you're telling me these are the actual channel names you came up with?"
I was utterly appalled. Kim Sung-woo's naming sense was even more disastrous than I had anticipated.
"Hot Tornado Potato, Pay-to-Win Whale, Black Malang Cow King, Royal House Guard, Alpha Male, Chaebol Shut-in, Outcast King, Yawn-jwa, Black Cow..."
Every single one of them was bizarre. Honestly, they were hilarious. I had struggled to hold back my laughter when I first saw the list. Especially...
"Pfft, what on earth is 'Cold Sweet Potato'?"
"Is it bad? Isn't it funny?"
"It is funny... but Sung-woo, your channel concept isn't comedy, is it?"
Sure, it was funny. But a YouTube channel name is literally the identity of the channel. If the concept was pure comedy, it would be a great name, but otherwise, it would only backfire.
"I think these three are the only decent ones."
"Hmm..."
The Wise Chaebol Life, Potato TV, and Kim Sung-woo_Official. Those were the only normal names on the list. Sung-woo stared wistfully at the long list of names he had written down, looking genuinely disappointed. To be fair, even I couldn't help but burst out laughing the moment I saw Cold Sweet Potato.
"How about just keeping it clean with 'Kim Sung-woo_Official'?"
"Is that the safest bet?"
"Yeah. Your name is already so well-known, so using your real name is the cleanest approach."
"How do you usually pay editors? Is it per video, or a monthly salary?"
"Usually, it's per video. Channel revenue fluctuates, after all."
An editor's pay varied wildly depending on the channel they worked for. Since editors were freelancers, their rates were determined by their skills and track record. Of course, larger channels sometimes hired editors as full-time employees. But the guy sitting in front of me was a complete outlier.
"You're not doing this to make money, are you?"
"True."
"If you want to scale the channel quickly right from the start, wouldn't it be better to register a business and build a proper team?"
"A business sounds good. I can just hire them as employees under Leonplay."
I had completely forgotten. Kim Sung-woo was the CEO of a game development company. I let out a soft chuckle as I watched him grin and start drafting the job posting, now that he had a general outline.
"Do you have a concept in mind for your content?"
"Me? Of course I do."
Sung-woo's eyes curved into a mischievous crescent at my question.
"Flexing content."