The Fan Cafe Manager

"……I'm sorry, what?"

"Haha, you really had no idea at all, huh. You've got a phone—what do you even use it for?"

"Calls and texts. Wait, you're telling me a fan… cafe opened up for me?"

Isn't that the kind of thing that happens to actual celebrities?

I was flicking my ear with a sulky look when I remembered that I was the celebrity in question, and my hand froze mid-air.

Wow. I genuinely could not get used to this.

"It's not official yet, but it will be soon. The company's got its eye on it, apparently."

"I'll show you in a bit. For now, have some more strawberries."

Even as I accepted the fork Manager Ahn Jinbae held out, I felt so strangely flustered that I just poked aimlessly at a strawberry, over and over. What on earth had these people seen to become my fans…? Was it really that easy?

Feeling oddly self-conscious about my posture, I sat up straighter, but the strange sensation wouldn't go away.

"The fan cafe manager is something else. She sent the company a wall-of-text email demanding to know when they'd make it official."

"I actually joined yesterday and saw it—they're already taking votes on the fan name."

"Already? They work fast."

The two of them were still deep in fan-cafe talk. I was trying my best to ignore it, but the unfamiliar words kept drifting my way, and I was quietly picking at my nails when—thankfully—the TV chimed with the sound effect announcing the start of the broadcast.

"It's starting!"

Jung Hyun hyung cut off mid-conversation and fixed his eyes on the screen. I glanced at him and quietly let out the breath I'd been holding.

Before I could even feel relieved that it was finally over, an ominous premonition brushed down my spine.

If Noh Bihyuk finds out about this….

That kid already screenshotted and sent me every single article or post about me that went up. If he learned a fan cafe had been created, just how much would he milk it?

Just picturing him shoving a fake microphone in my face—And how did it feel when the fan cafe opened, sir?—made me tired in an instant.

Still, it was some comfort that once I was discharged in three weeks, winter break would start right away. Only about a week of school to get ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠through.

"AAAAH!"

"You scared me, Hoseop hyung! Ah, you gave me a heart attack."

"Sorry, sorry. I'm just on edge."

On screen, the blindfolded cast members were shrieking as they pulled off their masks.

The scene shifted to the members touring the village behind their guide. I'd been waiting inside one of the buildings at that point, so like the members, I found myself gazing at the screen with a strange sense of novelty.

A bright, clear blue sky. Buildings slightly weathered but cleanly kept in an overall white palette. Even people in white clothes folding little blue pinwheels.

The imagery was so pleasant just to look at that I recalled hearing the camera director had shot a number of famous commercials.

"The color grading came out beautifully."

"Doesn't it, though."

But despite the refreshing scenery, the members' expressions looked somehow uneasy. The guide led the anxious-faced members to the gray building, and the moment the door closed behind them, he dropped straight to his knees.

"We welcome the Divine Spirit."

A subtitle in archaic script flashed quickly across the bottom of the screen: ?????

The members looked around in confusion—and then spotted the pair of feet standing before them.

I came out faster than I'd expected. Or rather, strictly speaking, only my feet did.

"That drama…."

The camera slyly captured comedian Shin Woocheol's whisper and the other members' darting glances, but it pointedly refused to show my face. All it offered was a blurry view of my motionless feet, as if I hadn't been given permission to be seen.

A hushed silence, deliberate rather than edited out, stretched on for several seconds.

When the youngest member awkwardly knelt down, the others scrambled to follow in clumsy half-crouches.

"You've brought strangers with you."

"Yes, Divine Spirit. They wish to see the festival."

As the members bowed, the camera lowered with them, and my movement came into frame. The soft clack-clack of my padded socks brushing the wooden floor was captured perfectly.

No one knows how hard I worked, micro-adjusting the pressure in my feet to make sure that exact sound survived. The audio came out cleaner than I expected.

Comedian Lee Hoseop glanced at the feet that had stopped in front of him, then hesitantly raised his head. The camera climbed slowly along his gaze—and for the first time, my face filled the screen.

"You'd best be careful."

"……Sorry, what?"

My expressionless face took over the frame, and the other man's dazed reply came through. Then, sinking into a crouch, I leaned close to his face and smiled.

"Because today, you'll be the first to die."

Lee Hoseop, frozen solid, swallowed hard. The members watching from the side were caught on camera, rigid and utterly speechless. A few seconds later, the broadcast cut back and forth between me, quickly dissolving into a smile as if nothing had happened, and the members, lost in extreme confusion.

Hm. I came across as….

Pretty terrifying, actually.

It hadn't felt like this when we were filming.

With the eerie music laid over everything, the whole thing played far more horror-tinged than it had in person. The difference a background music track made really was substantial.

With the youngest member's trembling pupils staring at me layered on top, the footage made me look like some being concealing tremendous power. When in reality, I was just a con artist.

I glanced at Jung Hyun hyung, who was absorbed to the point of wanting to climb into the screen, then turned my gaze to Manager Ahn Jinbae, who was looking at his laptop. He must have sensed my eyes, because he looked up.

"Is something bothering you?"

"No, I was just looking at you."

"Ah, curious about the reactions?"

He smiled and moved to show me the laptop, but I shook my head immediately. I'd refused because I knew that anything I needed to know would reach me eventually anyway—but he apparently misread my reaction in a completely different way, scooting straight over beside me.

"Don't worry, Actor-nim. It's nothing but good reactions."

I wasn't worried, though.

But his face was slightly stiff as he said it, so I simply nodded. Only then did his expression ease considerably; he patted my back a few times before withdrawing. The way he carried himself gave off such an air of mature gravitas that a thin laugh slipped out of me.

It contrasted so sharply with last night, when instead of patting my back, he'd been scrambling to shove me into his arms.

Well, to be fair, only the outside was Manager Ahn Jinbae. The inside was An-gae.

He's probably watching right now too, isn't he?

Being together with someone yet never seeing them with your own eyes was one of those things that refused to become ordinary no matter how much time passed. Same with having fans now.

Would the day ever come when it all felt natural?

Pondering a question I had no answer for at the moment, I turned my attention back to the screen.

"'Doesn't look like it'—and what is that supposed to mean?"

The woman reading the thread scrunched her face into a deep scowl. She got as far as typing What does a clueless brat know to be talking so big before regaining her senses and quietly deleting the text.

Get a grip. You are the head manager of Yeonjae's fan cafe. An official one, at that.

She hadn't received formal confirmation from the agency yet, but the woman had resolved to shoulder the dignity of her position all the same. Like a proper lady, she closed things out by pressing the Report button, then pulled up a different window to post the draft she'd been working on.

It was the main page of a "fan cafe"—an institution whose prestige persisted even in a modern society where cafe platforms were slowly dying out. More than that, it was the Lee Yeonjae fan cafe she herself had created a few months ago.

The title of the post she was drafting read as follows:

"Hey! I told you not to use my computer without permission!"

"Take fifty thousand won out of my wallet."

"By all means, use it freely, sis!"

Her little brother, upon discovering her sitting in his computer chair, had twisted his face into a ferocious scowl—only to retreat with an expression of instant, radiant goodwill. The woman waved him out of the room with a flick of her hand, ignoring the torrent of nonsense he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠spouted on his way—Truly, the cultured stand apart, Even the way she sits radiates noble breeding—and read through her draft one more time.

"Trolls have gotten really persistent lately…."

Her sharp eyes combed over every sentence. She was checking to make sure nothing could be misconstrued.

Trolls, she understood, were vermin of society—always present, a share of the burden that came unavoidably with Yeonjae's rising popularity. But when she thought of Yeonjae, who had just barely woken up and might still be crying from the pain of that terrible accident, didn't she owe it to him to cut off even the smallest chance of a pile-on?

You can't even walk by yourself right now, can you? My poor baby….

It was now three weeks after the accident, and Lee Yeonjae was walking entirely on his own, in perfectly good health.

The agency's official statement had gone up ages ago, but the woman remained undeterred. In her mind, all that replayed was a small, beautiful baby deer shedding tears of agony.

"I hope Yeonjae loves it…."

No matter how she looked at it, the fan name had come out perfectly. Her shoulders swelled with pride.

The truth was, she hadn't planned on picking a fan name this hastily—it was the news of the accident that had lit a fire under her. What could a fan actually give a celebrity? Only two things: love, and money.

She'd been giddy, plotting out all the gifts she'd shower on him under the official fan name—until she lost, decisively, to the small, beautiful angel baby deer who had donated his entire Mission Clear appearance fee to underprivileged children.

How can one person be this flawless?

He truly was the celebrity I chose. His young age meant absolutely nothing.

Organizing the steps she'd need for the gift mailing in her head, the woman gleefully pressed the Upload button.

Three days later, when Lee Yeonjae returned to school for the first time in a while, the very first words out of a beaming Noh Bihyuk's mouth were:

"Bambi's here?"

"…? What?"