The Ex-VTuber Who Hates the Gig: Lara's Music Teacher
The ex-VTuber who doesn't want to do it anymore—Lara's music teacher. The lucky winner selected for that spot is none other than Lee Jeongyeon. How fortunate is this? In this stagnant old-timer scene, it's not easy to snag a fresh, promising newbie.
"…."
Look at Lee Jeongyeon, her face radiating deep gratitude for the new content. It's like that manga where the physics swordsman on the boat meets a newbie with a weapon slotted in their helmet slot. It kinda looks like the expression right before she'd curse me out, but her excited and pissed-off faces have always been hard to tell apart anyway.
Of course, Lara—whose excitement and rage are crystal clear—grabbed my collar with a rotten scowl.
"…What the hell is this? You messing with me?"
"Why would I mess with you? I went through hell to book her for your sake."
I didn't dial the wrong number or call her just because I missed seeing an older sister figure. No mismatch in casting—Lee Jeongyeon is genuinely the best person I could call right now. Handing a singer off to a musical actress is a bit off, sure, but there's a reason for it.
But they clearly weren't thrilled with my choice.
"This bastard…."
Lee Jeongyeon snuck up behind me like a silent assassin and kicked the back of my heel. True to her taekwondo black belt, the ankle reap nailed my Achilles tendon perfectly.
"Argh!"
The sharp impact buckled my leg. She grabbed my shirt hem and yanked my earlobe.
"Fuck… come with me for a sec."
True to her status in the upper caste of Seoul Arts High School, Lee Jeongyeon dragged me backstage with expert finesse. Smooth, seamless motions without a hint of hesitation—the mark of a seasoned pro.
As I watched her, I said, "Sis, if controversy blows up later, this could turn into a school violence scandal."
"I never hit kids. And I don't smoke."
"You do drink, though."
"Say 'Seoul Arts High drama major' or shut your trap. Everyone did it back then."
Any of her cohortmates from school would find that claim outrageous. This statement has nothing to do with Seoul Arts High—it's just Lee Jeongyeon's personal delinquency.
As I shot her a glare, the underage drinker whipped her head around and snapped at me.
"Hey, what's the deal with this situation anyway?"
"What do you mean? I told you ahead of time."
She's around my age, and her voice and projection are solid. If she has time, maybe mentor her a bit.
"I didn't lie. No lies."
"Bullshit… You left out the most important fact. What the hell do you call that?"
She jabbed my forehead accusingly. Not like there's no reason for her to be pissed. It's just one tiny secret I forgot to mention.
Now, every time Lara sings, that'll be another secret piling up unspoken.
"Gwang-ah, if that secret is that she's not a vocal major, shouldn't you have said so?"
"Whoops, I'll be careful next time."
Me, Seonggwang, age 17. My once-fresh, sharp mind is starting to slow down. Memory's getting fuzzy around the edges. This dementia-stricken Seonggwang! I hung my head in remorse over my little slip-up.
Lee Jeongyeon, her temper flaring, swept her bangs back and grilled me.
"Haa… You're driving me nuts. Why'd you bring a musical actress to teach singing?"
"Musicals involve music, right? Figured she could handle it."
She can actually sing decently too. Don't assume drama majors only act—they lay down vocals as a foundation for entrance exams. They dance while belting.
"Sure! But she's a vocal major! Why make me teach her?!"
Of course, that doesn't make it a valid reason for Lee Jeongyeon to coach Lara.
"Hey, and why me specifically? You know tons of singers. Why pick me?"
"Two reasons. First, you're the only one with an open schedule lately."
"Hey! I'm busy too, you punk! Got a lot on my plate!"
"Sis, you know I follow you on Insta? You went to that Yangyang pension for drinks recently."
"…."
She pulled up Insta, blocked my account, pocketed her phone, and stared me down.
"And?"
"What?"
"What's the second reason? If it's 'picked the cheap one who doesn't need paying,' I'll kill you."
"As if."
That's why I hate sharp actresses. They read emotions too well—lies don't land. But that's not the only reason. I called her because she's unpaid, jobless, and a shut-in scratching her ass in her room.
"One warning. Cross me three times, you know what happens?"
"…… Cough."
She has vocal knowledge, and among people I know, her stage presence is top-tier.
"Well, she's an actress—gathering eyes on stage is a must-have skill."
She's in musicals and theater. Unlike film or TV where cameras and lights highlight you, stage actors have to seize the audience's gaze themselves. She hasn't earned rave reviews for acting yet, but she pulls focus with gestures and presence. That's why I called her terminal attention-whore.
In a field craving love and attention, pulling aggro like that is the highest praise.
"You don't need to teach pro-level singing. Just do your usual—projection, breathing, how to look cool on stage."
"…And you want me to teach that to a singer?"
"Singers are basically selling looks anyway. Streams are key revenue, but you gotta hustle to build the audience."
That's why I need her. Lara doesn't suck at singing exactly—it's more like she's doing it weird. Like making dog food from wagyu and tuna. Prime ingredients, prepped right. Serve as-is, and half the battle's won. Now it's about how to plate it.
"That's why… I need you, Jeongyeon sis!"
"…Haa."
She sighed at my heavy trust, hands on hips, eyes closed in exhaustion.
"Gwang-ah… Honestly, if it's acting, I could help. Even opera, I'd manage. But pure vocals…."
"…."
"My stuff might not translate, and teaching what I don't know feels off. Plus, I'm busy with side gigs these days."
She patted my shoulder persuasively—not the girl I knew from childhood, but a 21-year-old college student ground down by life.
"If you insist, I'll give your bro a heads-up. But tell that girl sorry—head home for today."
She turned down my request. Not surprising. It was a stretch to begin with. Asking an actress-in-training to teach someone? Default is no. I saw it coming, so I just nodded without protest.
I already know her side gig anyway.
"VTuber… Yeonimi."
"…!!"
That forbidden name dropped, and she clapped a hand over my mouth, eyes wide in panic.
"You bastard, how do you…?!"
"Got nothing better to do lately, so I watch streams. Found yours recently—pretty fun? Great singing, solid diction. Oh, sis, you know what a virtual YouTuber is?"
Her trembling hand balled into a fist. Basic defenses up, wary of me. I flashed a pure smile and pressed closer.
"Putting up an anime character for streams… Man~"
"You… how…?!"
"Didn't know you loved cheeseburgers and strawberry milk that much."
I'm hurt. If you'd told me, I'd have sent gift icons.
"You fucking asshole!"
The wolf-eared VTuber girl Yeonimi—er, musical actress Lee Jeongyeon—spun around for a rear naked choke.
She locked my neck tight, whispering shakily.
"Wh-who'd you tell…? Anyone else know besides you?!"
"Guh… An actress hiding behind a character to stream? The Lee Jeongyeon I remember is dead… You money-grubbing streamer who sold out your pride."
The acting girl who shone with dreams, the cool, straightforward drama-major Jeongyeon who looked after her kid brother. That's gone—now just a dog wagging its tail for pocket change and cheap attention.
"Shut up! Adults have circumstances. Think I want to do this? I hate it! I wanna make a living off acting alone!"
She sniffled excuses at my words. But as her 5-month subscriber, this was pure karma.
"Says the one who nails those donation reactions."
I cleared my throat, mimicking her voice best I could.
"Ah~ Thank you so much for 50,000 won, Pangseong viewer~ Ow~! Woof! Woof! Wa… Aaaaaaah—!!"
"Fuck!! That was you, you son of a bitch!!"
Furious, she cranked the choke. That donation barely covered a meal, let alone transit. At least I can laugh for two years—call it an investment in the future.
"Three warnings up! Fine, if you're that eager to die, I'll send you off myself…!"
Wait, isn't she a taekwondo black belt? Why's a striker going for submissions?
"Gack… Jeongyeon sis. Do my favor, and I won't tell your bro."
"No need. Gwang-ah…! I'll kill you here and bury the truth."
"You did that booze stream…? The one where you ad-lib confessed to a classmate during a play and got rejected? Guh! Argh!"
"Fuck! Die! Die, you fuck! Die with that Yeonimi or whatever goldfish bitch!"
"Guh… Nngh! I haven't told anyone! It's just me! Ungh…!"
I tapped desperately, convincing her. Finally, all secrets stay buried here, and she released my arm.
"Hoo… Thought I'd end up in juvie, but you got lucky."
"Hahk… Haah…! Thought I was gonna meet Mom for real…."
She's alive and well, of course. Why is she well? A little unwell would've been nice. I hacked out dry coughs with ragged breaths.
Jeongyeon, holstering her killer instinct, glared.
"…Why so obsessed?"
"…Yeonimi…."
"Not that, punk. Say that name again and… The girl, Shin Lara or whatever."
Oh, Lara. Right.
"Not really obsessed. We're in the same group for school, so I'm looking out for her on the side."
"Nah, just curious. You've never shown this much interest in another musician."
"That much? I've got a few, right?"
"Yeah, but your types are older beauties you like, or ones you hate outright. No positive reactions like this. Especially not nurturing someone."
Hm, true. I do like older women, but that's not the only reason. I'm in the industry too—networking, hearing the gossip, building ties. Not to cling when they're drunk and play pitiful. For real.
"Lara's cute, sure… but just a kid? Wonder what makes her worth this much attention."
"…Yeah."
Thinking about it, nothing special. We're not super close, and she doesn't have prodigy-level talent to blow me away. Strictly business out of necessity, with some side mentoring. No need to waste time or passion.
But if I had to find a reason….
"Gotta build recognition with my face on the line."
Agro? Sure, "scandalous Seonggwang's back" draws eyes. But it loses others too. Can't have that. Even if early buzz flops, build a fanbase brick by brick with image. Enter Lara—pretty face, bubbly personality. Push her right, and she'll draw crowds.
That's why pretty people are assets.
"And… does there need to be a reason?"
"Huh?"
"Met her first, she's quirky—stuck with me. She shows drive, so I'm investing effort."
Simple reasons like that sway us. Cool, admirable, wanna date, or hey, turns out she's got talent. We cling to those thin threads to live.
"That's music life for ya."
We ephemerals thrive on impulsive moments.
"…."
"So help raise her. Not sure if I'm good at it, but she's fun to watch."
She sighed deeply at my plea.
"…Three hours Saturday. That's it."
She caved in the end. Seeing that, she's weak to pushy types. Or maybe she cares more than I thought.