The Notebook of Forgotten Dreams
It was a rather cruel log. It was filled to the brim with pure, passionate ideas for streaming. [Viewer Participation Tournament >>>>> Something like a tournament where viewers compete in games anyone could play, like LeoRe, with prize money. Could do this once viewer count gets high enough?] There was no date recorded, but the ideas seemed to belong to the early days. They carried the hope that one day his stream would grow and his audience would increase.
Skipping over more similar ideas that followed, Arine’s eyes landed on another entry. [Large Streamer Servers][Large streamer servers have been trending on Naty lately. Honestly, I want to join one too, but no one’s going to invite me. Who would invite someone like me…? Maybe later I’ll make my own server and invite all the hako streamers?] This was probably from around Doyun’s second year of streaming. She couldn’t be sure, but large collab servers had been popular on Naty around that time, and given that their careers were roughly the same length, it made sense.
By then, Arine had already experienced rapid growth and participated in countless collabs. She’d been invited to every major server, which helped spread her name and introduced her to countless other streamers. For her, it had been a time when she finally felt like a legitimate, established streamer. It remained one of her fondest memories. Yet even back then, Doyun had been quietly soothing his own disappointment by jotting these thoughts into a notepad.
[Hosting a Streamer Cup Tournament][I want to try hosting a talk show where I’m the main MC. Something like a quiz show?]
As time passed, the entries grew simpler. The emotional notes faded, replaced by one-line summaries meant only to keep the ideas from being forgotten. Maybe he’d grown tired of writing them down. Had his passion cooled? No. That wasn’t it.
Her gaze drifted to the very bottom of the notepad. [What’s the point of writing these down every day… It’s not like I’ll ever get to do any of them…]
After that final line, nothing else had been added. Arine couldn’t know exactly what Doyun had been thinking, but from her own limited perspective, it seemed he had simply given up. At some point, he’d stopped collecting and planning content ideas he could never realistically attempt. Staring at an unreachable dream was nothing but painful. It was like walking endlessly through darkness toward a tunnel with no end in sight.
Just like when she was a trainee, dreaming of becoming the main vocalist or main dancer. Imagining the cheers that would follow a single note or a single movement on stage. Looking up at that distant light from the bottom of a miserable reality was nothing but self-torture. One day I’ll be able to do it. One day, I’ll… That hope lasted only a moment. As time passed and reality sank in, her heart had bent and broken. Eventually, it could no longer stand back up. The greater the expectation, the greater the disappointment. The bigger the dream, the heavier the despair—until you no longer wanted to dream at all.
Staring at the notes, a thought suddenly surfaced. …Oppa hadn’t lacked planning ability. He simply hadn’t had the resources to turn those plans into reality. No money, no company, no one to help him. The kinds of content she could now do without a second thought, the projects she’d carried out so easily—they had been nothing but luxuries to him. Like clouds drifting far out of reach, visible but untouchable.
Maybe that was why his quick thinking had improved. In the end, to squeeze the maximum fun out of ordinary content within his limited means, he’d had no choice but to develop his streams that way.
As Arine absorbed each idea one by one, someone suddenly grabbed her shoulder from behind.
“Whoa!”
“Kyaaaah!”
Her heart nearly dropped. She felt like a thief caught peeking at someone else’s secret ideas.
“What’s wrong? Why are you so surprised?”
“Aish, you scared me. Oppa, make some noise when you walk around!”
“What were you looking at? Something naughty?”
“No… ugh… my heart’s racing… This? The idea notepad on your desktop?”
“Ah~ this?”
He scrolled through the notepad as if reminiscing. Maybe it was amusing to look back at his old thoughts. It might have felt like reading an old diary. Watching him, Arine became certain he hadn’t opened this file in a very long time.
“I never deleted it because it felt like a waste to throw away everything I’d written… Wow, I even forgot it existed.”
“You were going to delete it? Why? There are so many good ideas here.”
“Huh? Because I don’t have the money or the manpower to actually do any of them? It’s basically just a list of wishes. Kind of like a bucket list? Ah, you could probably pull some of these off. Want to take a few? I’ll hand them over specially to you.”
“No thanks. I’ve already got plenty of my own ideas.”
“Of course you do. When it comes to planning, it’s our Arine-sama after all.”
He closed the notepad without a trace of regret. Arine wondered how many disappointments he must have endured before that reluctance finally disappeared. A bitter feeling lingered as she watched the file vanish from the screen.
“Alright, that’s enough snooping through other people’s embarrassing diaries. The chicken’s here, so let’s eat.”
“Really? That fast?”
“The chicken place is right in front of the building. I could’ve gone to pick it up, but I was too lazy so I just ordered delivery.”
Arine watched Doyun dash excitedly toward the front door at the mention of chicken and let her imagination wander. What if—though it could never happen—what if Doyun had been as lucky as her? What if he’d escaped the hako phase quickly and found success in his first or second year? What if he’d joined a decent MCN like she had and received systematic support from the platform and company? Would all those countless plans have come to life? And if so, where would he be now? Maybe he would’ve become even more successful than her. Of course, no one could know for sure, but Arine found herself wondering anyway.
#
“Kyaah, this chicken smells amazing.”
I made a fuss as I set the chicken and beer on the table. Between streaming and part-time work, I barely had time for anything else. My only ways to relieve stress were watching YouTube or Naty on my phone or eating something delicious. Not that I was the type to binge eat—I just enjoyed good food when I could.
Even chicken and beer felt like a luxury on our dinner table. Since money was always tight, most meals were just kimbap or instant ramen. Cooking proper meals would’ve been best, but that was too much trouble, so I skipped it.
“Come sit down.”
“Yeah. Oppa, can I bring this chair over?”
“Sure. We don’t have extra chairs, so you’ll have to eat there.”
We never had guests, so there were no spare chairs. Well, there used to be—Seoyeon’s old ones. After we broke up, I couldn’t stand looking at them and threw them all out. She dragged the computer chair she’d been sitting on over to the table. I pulled my own dining chair closer and sat down across from her. Our day-swap filming wrap-up dinner began.
“Thank you for the chicken, Oppa~”
“Yeah, eat up. Their fried chicken is really good.”
“How did you know I like fried chicken? Now I kinda want to try it.”
She picked up a small piece with her wooden chopsticks and popped it into her mouth. In an instant, the corners of her eyes and lips shot upward.
“Wow, it’s actually really good. Oppa, you’ve got good taste.”
“Right?”
“It might be in my top three chickens I’ve ever had.”
“Top three? You’re pretty picky. What’s first place then?”
The house was lively—completely different from my usual quiet meals. With chicken in my mouth, I looked across the table and saw her there. …Come to think of it, it had been a long time since I’d eaten with someone. Just that thought somehow lifted my mood. Even though it was getting colder as dawn approached, this damp basement room felt strangely warm.
“Mmm~ It’s so good. I want another piece!”
Watching Arine happily munching on chicken, I found myself smiling without realizing it. Maybe that was why I hadn’t touched the chicken at all and was only sipping my beer while watching her. Just her presence filled this dreary room with energy. When was the last time I’d felt this kind of lively chatter? Every day I worked, streamed, and ate alone. I was always in a rush, grabbing triangle kimbap for breakfast. Maybe back in my early university days, but after I started streaming and Seoyeon graduated, even our dates hadn’t been frequent. And even when we did go out… had we ever laughed and enjoyed a meal like this? Once she got her job, it felt like those moments had disappeared. She would just stare at me with that judgmental look, like a judge eyeing a defendant in court.
“……What? Why do you keep staring at me while I eat… It’s embarrassing.”
Maybe I’d been looking too intently. She noticed my gaze, blushed slightly, and looked away.
“Nah. I was just thinking you eat well.”
Maybe it was because she was a streamer, or maybe she was just naturally bright. Her reactions to the food were so vivid. That slightly coy “mm” sound, her eyes widening in delight, her cute chewing lips and cheeks. For some reason, watching her made me feel healed.
“Telling a girl she eats well isn’t exactly a compliment, you know?”
“Oh come on. What era do you think we’re living in? If it’s a compliment for a guy, it’s a compliment for a girl too.”
“That’s the kind of thing grandmas say to their grandkids. When an oppa says it, it’s just gross.”
Even as she said that, her squirrel-like chewing didn’t stop. She narrowed her eyes at me.
“And what’s with that satisfied smile? You’ve been smirking this whole time.”
She cracked open the beer can in front of her with a hiss. Maybe it was the alcohol after so long, or the warm, peaceful atmosphere. Or perhaps because filming was over and her guard was down. Without thinking, I said something I normally wouldn’t have said once the camera was off.
“…How do I put it? I’m just in a good mood? Eating with you feels nice.”
At those words, her cheeks—still full and moving just moments ago—suddenly stopped chewing.