Even If I'm Just a Little Nice

In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have said that last part.

The chat window, which had been scrolling past in a dizzying blur, ground to a sudden, screeching halt. The silence felt eerily reminiscent of a room full of people turning dead cold after an ill-advised, tasteless joke.

A second later, a torrential barrage of donations exploded across the screen, sending the chat racing again at breakneck speed. I had been reminding myself that real human beings sat on the other side of the monitor, and in trying to bridge that gap, I made a mistake. I had spoken far too comfortably, slipping into the casual cadence I used with older women in daily life—so blunt that it could easily come across as insolent. My emotional faculties had been waking up lately, and I assumed this slip of the tongue was simply a byproduct of that shift.

Evidently, I had completely misread the situation.

I tracked the frenzied succession of alert chimes and the runaway chat box, taking in every line. Not a single person was actually upset. Some of the reactions were a little bewildering, but judging by the relaxed grin on Yeoeun's face, everything was well within safe bounds.

I was still a bit dazed by the sheer enthusiasm flooding the chat. Before I could even think of an answer, an enormous donation flashed on screen, prompting me to offer a reflexive thank-you.

"Scrub Noona..."

Tap.

Underneath the dining table, Yeoeun nudged my foot with her toe. She tapped it twice more, nodding at me with an amused, encouraging smirk.

"Sigh, honestly. You're so bashful that you can't even say what you really want, can you? Well, thanks for the donation... Scrub. Noo. Na."

Was this the right way to play it?

I crossed my arms over my chest and leveled a frosty glare directly into the lens.

Apparently, this was exactly what they wanted.

I couldn't fathom why on earth they enjoyed being insulted like this, but watching the stream of tips pour in, I decided to humor them a little longer.

"Oh! This one's for me, right? Thank you so much! Discipline, you say... Sorry, Jeongseo. Hold still for just a second."

Yeoeun pivoted her torso toward me. Before I could pull back, her hands shot out, catching both of my cheeks between her thumb and forefinger.

"Mmh?! Wha—ow! Ow, hey!"

My cheeks were stretched wide in opposite directions. It stung far more than I had anticipated. Yeoeun beamed down at me with an infuriatingly smug expression.

After giving my cheeks an enthusiastic stretch, Yeoeun caught the sharp glint in my eyes and finally let go. There had definitely been personal indulgence behind that grip. I raised both palms, rubbing at the stinging heat radiating from my face.

Certain physiological reactions simply cannot be helped; my eyes were likely flushed a slight shade of red from the sheer sting. As I sat there glaring murder at Yeoeun, another donation chime rang out.

"Thank you, WheatCakes! Thank you so much!"

Watching Yeoeun bow her head in gratitude, I forced myself to swallow my irritation. After all, this was work. So I simply sat there politely, opening my mouth with a calm, flat delivery.

"Idiots. Every single one of you, hiding behind screens. You wouldn't be able to squeak out a single word if you stood in front of me."

"Uh? Uh... Jeongseo. That's a bit..."

Yeoeun's voice trailed off into nervous hesitation, but my provocation ignited another torrential bombardment of donations. Only this time, the fire was directed squarely at Yeoeun, paying her bounties to mete out further punishment. Her mouth split into a grin so wide it practically ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hooked behind her ears.

"Your noona really doesn't want to do this, but I guess my hands are tied."

"Don't. I warned you not to."

Sitting across from her at the table, I endured the karma brought on by my own remarks—quietly reminding myself that I would pay her back tenfold later on.

"Seriously. Complete fools. Personally, I prefer people who can just speak honestly."

Having finished the meal and bantered with the audience for a good while, I pushed back my chair and stood up. There was nothing left to say, and the requests flooding the chat were growing increasingly unhinged. Sensing that it was the right time to cut things off, Yeoeun stood up alongside me.

"Well then, I'm off to wash the dishes."

"Ugh, dishes again? Just leave them. You lost so much of your own time because of me, so I'll do them in a bit."

"No. Dishes need to be done immediately."

"Ah, later is fine. It's not like the plates are going to run away."

As we stood there bickering over dirty cookware in the middle of our sign-off, the chat box instantly filled with opinions on the dishwashing debate. A quick glance revealed that the vast majority sided with me. As expected, Yeoeun was the outlier here.

"Oh? Thank you so much, Joy-nim!"

Mid-argument, Yeoeun snapped her waist down in a lightning-fast bow toward the camera. By now, the handle 'JOY' was permanently seared into my memory. Whenever I made an appearance on stream, that viewer showered us with eye-popping amounts of cash; memorizing the name was practically an involuntary reflex.

"Thank you," I said toward the lens. "Hmm... should I really do that? Since someone finally had the honesty to say they just wanted to see me. Though, it's not entirely my decision to make."

The moment I left the door open, several more donations cascaded across the screen like clockwork, every single one begging me to stick around just a bit longer. The general sentiment in the chat was overwhelmingly unanimous: watching me wash dishes sounded infinitely better than watching Yeoeun play video games by herself.

"Fine, fine. Good grief... a dishwashing stream of all things."

Feigning mild annoyance, Yeoeun repositioned the webcam so that it faced the kitchen sink. While the camera couldn't capture it from that angle, I could clearly see her face, practically beaming with pure delight.

I was in the middle of casually chatting with the viewers while scrubbing plates when Yeoeun, who was wiping down the table nearby, caught the sound of the text-to-speech alert and bristled indignantly.

"Why on earth would I steal his money?!"

"I haven't seen a single red cent so far," I cut in, timing my words the exact second she finished hers.

"Hey! Don't make it sound like that!"

"What? It's just the truth."

"No, it's not! The monthly payout hasn't even cleared yet!"

When I let my shoulders slump into an exaggerated, crestfallen pout, Yeoeun looked like she was about to burst a blood vessel from sheer frustration. Sensing the comedic opening, the chat banded together to heap more grief onto her.

"Y-You... Don't slander me! Once the platform payout settles, I won't withhold a single won! I'm giving him all of it!"

"What about the platform fee?" I asked innocently.

"Ah! Are you crazy? Of course the fee gets deducted first!"

Yeoeun marched right up beside me, though even in her agitated state, she was mindful enough to stand at an angle that didn't block the camera's line of sight on me.

"That's what they're saying," I murmured smoothly.

"Oh, please! You guys are literally only throwing pocket money at him! The tail is wagging the dog here!"

Her face flushed bright red as she shouted at the monitor, complaining that the tips I racked up in a brief guest appearance far eclipsed what she earned grinding games for an entire month.

"Fine, I understand," I said calmly. "Just pay the fees using the pocket money they gave me."

"Huh? Oh... right. I'm keeping meticulous records of everything, so just wait a little."

"Sigh... Speaking of which, grocery costs have been rather steep lately. A certain someone refuses to eat properly unless there's a meat dish on the table... and it's still quite a while until my part-time pay comes in."

I dropped my voice to a subdued, reflective murmur, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠feigning mild melancholy—even though, in truth, Mother covered all of our living expenses.

Yeoeun stared at me in stunned, wide-eyed disbelief. Seeing her pupils waver in absolute betrayal, I had to press my lips together to stop the corners of my mouth from twitching upward. Catching that subtle micro-expression, she finally blew her top.

"Heyyyy! If you talk like that, what kind of scumbag does that make me?!"

In a fit of comical despair, she threw both hands into the air, clutching at her hair. The only problem was that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠one of those hands was still clutching a damp dishcloth.

Whoosh.

Whether she momentarily forgot it was there or simply lost control of her grip, the rag slipped from her fingers and sailed through the air. My hands were trapped inside the soapy basin, rinsing dishes, leaving me entirely defenseless.

Splat!

The damp cloth struck me dead center in the face. It was the very rag she had just used to clean the dining table—thoroughly coated in food remnants and greasy braised kimchi stew sauce. After delivering a wet, heavy smack against my nose and cheeks, it slid off and dropped into the sink.

In an instant, the slender thread of my composure snapped clean in half.

Snap.

"Uh? Hey... what's wrong... wait, hold on."

I peeled off the yellow rubber gloves, casting them aside with deadly deliberation. Yeoeun's eyes went saucer-wide as she took an instinctive step backward.

"You threw a dirty dishcloth at my face?"

"It was an accident! An accident, I swear! Total mistake. I didn't do it on purpose!"

I closed the distance in a flash. Pinning her against the kitchen counter so she couldn't scramble away, I brought my open palm down across her arm. I had tolerated her teasing earlier because I treated it as part of her broadcast work, but this crossed every acceptable line.

"Ow! Hey! Hold on. Ow! That stings! It really stings!"

She had more than enough raw physical strength to easily overpower me, yet she couldn't bring herself to use force against me, squirming and twisting her torso in a pathetic attempt to evade. As I laid into her upper arms, she spun around and threw herself face-down across the edge of the sink counter, apparently deciding that taking the hits on her back was the lesser evil.

Smack—!

"Eek?! Wait. Wait a second!"

Operating purely on instinct, my palm cracked hard against her rear. With her hips bent and her voluptuous backside jutting outward, I laid into her plump rear with a relentless, stinging rhythm.

And every single second of that domestic spanking unfolded in crystal clarity right before the streaming camera.

The following morning, I wrapped up my preparations for work a few minutes earlier than usual.

Standing in the front entryway, I pulled out my smartphone and snapped a photo of my reflection in the full-length mirror.

Is this good enough?

The shot framed my outfit cleanly from head to toe. Satisfied, I opened Yeoeun's community board—more specifically, the official Eun Yeoeun fan cafe integrated directly with the Pajijik platform. It was to honor a promise I had made to the viewers the previous night: if making daily appearances on stream was too demanding, they asked if I could at least post photos regularly instead. Selfies or mundane snapshots of daily life were welcome, so long as they didn't compromise my private address or personal safety.

Huh?

A staggering volume of new posts had accumulated overnight, and predictably, the vast majority centered around me.

I clicked open the top-ranked post sitting proudly at the summit of the board. Inside was a crisp, looped animated GIF of me relentlessly spanking Yeoeun's backside in the kitchen.

People were obsessing over this yesterday too.

Letting out a faint chuckle, I tapped the compose icon. Skipping any written text entirely, I attached the mirror selfie I had taken moments earlier, uploading the raw file without bothering with filters or basic edits.

I deliberated briefly over the title before settling on something simple.

Having posted the picture, I slipped my phone away and stepped out into the crisp morning air. Setting aside time to take photos and upload them added a minor delay to my morning routine, but the chore didn't feel tedious in the slightest.

Because it makes a lot of people happy.

Streaming last night had sparked an unfamiliar revelation. After the dishes were cleaned, I had lingered in Yeoeun's room for a brief chat with the viewers, and during those moments, a peculiar sensation had stirred inside me. Countless strangers found genuine, unadulterated joy in the mere fact that I spared a fraction of my time for them. Seeing their delight reflected in endless lines of text made me smile in return. It felt like discovering a brand-new palate of sensory indulgence, no different from savoring an exquisite meal.

If making a crowd of people happy stimulates my emotions, does that feed back into my own healing?

Some women had sparked an immediate, visceral emotional reaction in me from the very start. But as time went on, I realized that others—like Mother or the Cafe Boss—gradually exerted an ever-growing influence over me through steady, accumulated exposure. It was still merely a working hypothesis, but broadcasting seemed to function along the same lines. Engaging with an audience was steadily coaxing my dormant feelings out of hiding, much like countless tiny brushstrokes converging to form a grand painting.

Besides, snapping a picture isn't hard work.

I had a distinct feeling that this dynamic didn't necessarily have to be confined to live streams. Since I planned to launch a MeTube channel down the line anyway, practicing engagement in advance made practical sense. With that in mind, I decided to take photos far more frequently going forward.

Ah, right.

Pausing along the roadside sidewalk, I pulled my phone out once more. I forwarded the entryway mirror selfie into several active chat rooms: Mother, Leehyun, the Cafe Boss, and the group chat that included Eun-jeong.

Replies materialized almost instantaneously from both of them. When I switched back to check the fan cafe, my freshly minted post had already accumulated a string of excited comments.

Everyone wakes up remarkably early.

Satisfied with that idle thought, I tucked the phone back into my pocket and resumed walking toward the cafe. It was comforting to realize that investing just a tiny bit of extra effort was all it took to brighten someone else's day. Since doing so didn't violate any social boundaries or personal codes, I saw no reason not to indulge them whenever I felt like it.

If it's going to be like this, maybe running an actual social media account would be better?

Lost in my contemplation, I hadn't even noticed how remarkably light and rhythmic my footsteps had become. The warmth I had sent out into the world was already making its way back to me.