All You Have to Do Is Listen to Me
The following day, Yeoeun went live.
For now, she was simply bantering with her viewers to get things warmed up.
Earlier that day, Jeongseo had posted a few photos of the two of them on his fan cafe and personal social media. They were candid shots taken when they ventured downtown to pick out new clothes for Yeoeun, which explained why so many viewers in chat were hunting for him. Of course, his name popped up constantly even on normal days.
"Should I just go back to sweatpants?" Yeoeun asked, adjusting the collar of her new top. "My little brother told me I should try dressing like this for once."
She was wearing one of the button-up shirts they had bought together. Jeongseo had washed it and even taken the time to iron it flat.
"Jeongseo picked this out for me," she added, her posture shrinking slightly under the critical gaze of thousands. "Does it really look that weird?"
The verdict arrived swiftly, swinging overwhelmingly in her favor. Even the viewers who had scoffed seconds earlier performed immediate, shameless turnarounds.
"Heheh... You guys are only saying that because you heard Jeongseo picked it, aren't you?"
Yeoeun chuckled, settling into an easy rhythm with her audience. She rambled on about how they had spent her day off, feeding the curiosity stirred up by Jeongseo's photos.
"Supply Officer, thank you for the donation! Yes, he should be home any minute now. But wait... what's this 'Emotion' thing?"
The chat raced to inform her that Jeongseo's official fan cafe had finally opened its doors. The name Emotion had been derived from his given name, Jeongseo. Its inaugural members had already begun appending the title to their usernames across the internet.
"Whoa... It's not like he's a pop idol or anything," she marveled, half-amused. "Still, he'll be thrilled once he finds out."
"Nope, nothing set in stone yet," she replied.
Yeoeun was well aware of how desperately her audience awaited his appearances, especially after days packed with offline outings like yesterday. Jeongseo posted snapshots to Inbyeol every day, but still photographs were never quite enough to quench their thirst.
"Giggle... Ah, don't worry about it. What he's like normally, huh? Well..."
Yeoeun knew that once the gaming began, the audience would inevitably pivot their focus to the screen. She didn't mind indulging them with a smile while the mood was high.
"If I'm just speaking off the top of my head..." She paused briefly to gather her thoughts before leaning closer to the microphone. "Jeongseo is my little brother, but he's truly fascinating. Actually, 'peculiar' might be the better word."
Memories of the past weeks drifted through her mind, from the afternoon he first moved in to their quiet moments at breakfast. Even living under the same roof, she didn't know every facet of his heart, but the impressions he left behind were vivid and unmistakable.
"He feels sort of like... an elegant cat? I've never owned a cat before, so I don't know if that's the best comparison, but still."
The image suited him remarkably well.
"Whenever he walks, he doesn't make a sound. Whatever he does, he does it quietly. It's not that he's slow—it's more like... he carries an effortless dignity? He's the complete opposite of me."
She painted the picture with broad strokes, trying to capture his strange charisma in plain words.
"You can tell just from his appearances on camera how clean he is, right? That's his real personality. Diligent, disciplined, spotless. What blows my mind is that even though he lives at a frantic pace every single day, I've never once seen him lose his composure or look disheveled."
When Yeoeun mentioned his boundless stamina, the chat room chimed in with passionate agreement, bringing up the difficult yoga poses he had casually displayed during earlier broadcasts.
"Exactly. He's incredibly flexible, and he works out every day. On the outside, he looks frail and delicate, but his inner temperament doesn't match his doll-like face at all. He's remarkably sturdy on the inside."
She let herself ramble, words spilling out freely.
"You know those internet theories about cats actually being undercover aliens? Heh, Jeongseo gives off that exact same vibe. Sometimes I catch myself wondering if we're even the same species."
Talking about him so openly dragged the vivid memory of the previous night right to the surface of her mind—the sight of Jeongseo, usually so poised and unflappable, completely coming undone beneath her touch.
That side of him... I'm the only woman in the world who gets to see it. Heheh.
Just letting the thought linger set an unbidden fever coursing through her blood. His flushed, breathless gasps and his pale, flawless physique were dangerously intoxicating to any woman. And above all, that breathtaking endowment between his thighs was practically mythical—a divine treasure one couldn't fathom without witnessing it firsthand.
I can never say that out loud... Ugh, damn it, I'm getting wet again.
Lately, Yeoeun felt as though she had tumbled straight back into puberty, cursed with the relentless, unprovoked dampness between her legs that defined those restless teenage years. It was all Jeongseo's doing, and none of it could ever be uttered across a live broadcast.
"Even when he sleeps, he lies perfectly straight on his back, like some prince straight out of a fairy tale... Hey! What's wrong with an older sister peeking at her little brother sleeping?! Why, are you jealous?"
She had to bite her tongue and maintain a careful balance. If she slipped up even once, she would end up sounding like a besotted woman bragging about her lover rather than a fond sister doting on her sibling.
"Fine, fine! Even if he can't make it right this second, I'll ask him to give us a little time later. Now then, let's get into..."
Wrapping up the topic, Yeoeun booted up her game. Deep down, she knew that having Jeongseo come into her life was the greatest stroke of luck she would ever receive. If possible, she wanted to remain glued by his side forever as his devoted big sister, even when the day came that he took a proper wife.
As long as she could stay near him, nothing else in the world truly mattered.
Lately, my attention had been completely consumed by MeTube.
Whenever a spare moment presented itself, I found myself studying how other creators produced their content, paying special attention to Shorts. The real bottleneck, however, was time. Juggling part-time work alongside my studies already stretched my schedule thin; adding video production into the mix meant carving my remaining hours down to the bone. Video editing, filming techniques, content planning—it was a mountain of uncharted territory.
I had spent the last few days turning those problems over in my head.
Stepping out of the bathroom after a warm shower following my shift, I checked my phone and found a new message waiting for me.
Today was the evening I had agreed to appear on Yeoeun Noona's stream. She had brought it up two days ago, and we settled on Thursday night. From the tone of her texts, Ihyeon Noona was genuinely distraught over missing it.
It sounded like she had something important to handle tonight. Setting my phone down, I began preparing to join the broadcast.
I wonder what it is, though?
It was hard to shake the feeling that she had deliberately sidestepped my question. Under normal circumstances, she would have told me what was on her plate without hesitation. If she kept it vague, it wasn't a trivial matter. I made a mental note to check in on her again later.
The stream was running smoothly.
Her viewers had been loudly clamoring for my return, insisting that the "Jeongseo cooldown" had expired, and they greeted my appearance with deafening enthusiasm in the chat. We had spent the last while just chatting, but now it was time to move on to the main event.
"All right, sit here... Tonight, we're playing Real Truck."
"Real Truck? A driving simulator?"
I slid into the gaming chair she vacated. The racing wheel rig I had bought for her off Dotori Market was clamped securely to the edge of the desk.
Apparently, Yeoeun had bragged about the gift to her viewers so relentlessly that they were utterly sick of hearing about it. As a result, the announcement that she was playing Real Truck again drew a collective groan from the chat.
"There... all set. Sitting like that isn't uncomfortable, is it?"
"My feet don't reach the pedals."
"Huh? Pfft... ah. Right. Hold on a second."
The setup included floor pedals for the brake and accelerator. Since the chair and pedal distance had been calibrated for Yeoeun's long legs, my toes fell entirely short of the metal plates.
"What's with that face? Are you mocking me right now?"
"N-No! Who's mocking who... pffft! No, seriously, I'm not! Don't get up!"
Suppressing her laughter with transparent difficulty, she scurried off to fetch a small wooden box to place beneath the pedal base. The smug smirk plastered across her face was immensely irritating.
It wasn't just Yeoeun; the chat was practically overflowing with laughter. Bitter as it was, my legs were undeniably shorter than hers, leaving me without a leg to stand on in an argument.
"Make the Foot Cam bigger?" Yeoeun asked, reading the flood of demands. "Like this? More? If I blow it up that much, I'll have to shrink the main display..."
Bowing to the furious tide of public sentiment, Yeoeun scrambled to reorganize the stream overlay. In the end, the game feed was reduced to a tiny, postage-stamp rectangle banished to the bottom corner. Though this was billed as a gaming broadcast, the screen was dominated almost entirely by high-definition feeds of my face and my bare feet.
My feet were entirely bare. The second I curled my toes against the pedals, the chat scrolled at an impossible, blistering speed.
"Noona," I began innocently, looking over my shoulder. "Aren't you supposed to wear shoes when you drive?"
"I mean... yeah?"
"Right. Let me go put some shoes on."
"Wait, hold on! It's not like you're actually driving on a real road...!"
I pushed back from the desk and stood up.
The moment I moved away, the chat erupted into outright panic. Reading the panicked mood, Yeoeun threw her arms out, desperate to block my path.
"Why?" I argued with an earnest expression. "The game is called Real Truck, isn't it? We have to keep it realistic. Immersion matters."
"What kind of logic is that?! It's fine! Just play it like this!"
"No way. I'm going to put on socks, and then real sneakers."
Watching the viewers descend into frantic meltdown while Yeoeun flailed in distress washed away every trace of annoyance I had felt over the short-leg jokes.
And then, the heavy artillery arrived.
The kind of donation that melted away any lingering pettiness in an instant. The members of my newly minted fan cafe began lobbing massive sums of pocket money straight into the stream.
"Thank you so much for the generous donation!" I chirped, beaming brightly at the camera as I dropped right back into the seat. "Since it isn't real driving anyway, playing barefoot shouldn't be a problem at all, right?"
A few cynical viewers typed that they had been played like fiddles, but I blithely disregarded them.
"Noona? Let's get started. Boot up the engine."
"Ah... right."
Yeoeun stared at me with an utterly stunned expression, caught completely off-guard by my lightning-fast turnabout. With her guidance, I settled into position to navigate the digital eighteen-wheeler.
Wearing a look of pure innocence, I rested both bare feet side-by-side—one hovering directly over the accelerator, the other over the brake.
"Ahahaha. What's the problem? Can't I just use one foot for each pedal?"
I laughed sweetly at the frantic warnings flashing across the screen. The response was immediate and dramatic—a cascade of back-seat driving advice delivered through a barrage of paid donations.
A subtle smile touched my lips as I watched the alerts stack up.
A tiny poke was all it took to make the money roll in. Teasing them wasn't just entertaining—it was wildly profitable.