A Stage for One
Yeon-a sat in front of the monitor with a slightly tense expression today. Her usual worn-out, auntie-like demeanor had vanished, replaced by a hint of nervousness. "Hello, everyone." Perhaps her idol-like nature was shining through.
"Ahaha… What’s that? I’m always here, you know. I’m getting nervous."
More polite speech than usual. Seeing that, Yeon-a smiled softly. Her heart pounded. This was always how she looked when singing in front of many people. As someone who loved dancing and singing on stage more than anyone, a little nervousness was only natural.
Yeon-a let out a sigh and gazed ahead. Before her eyes lay the beautifully decorated backstage area. ‘I used to want to stand on a stage like this.’ She wore a wistful smile as she looked back on a past that could no longer be fulfilled. In her own way, she could still call herself an idol. It just wasn’t the exact image she had truly longed for. Since everyone lived this way, Yeon-a had decided to accept it as well.
There was no time to linger in such sentiment. This was a stage she would normally have refused, but today she had accepted it with the thought of singing for just one person. ‘Suhyun… I’ll do my best.’ She wanted to be the pillar Suhyun could lean on without worry. Just like before, so she could wrap Suhyun in a warm embrace again.
"I can do this, right? Cheer me on."
Watching the viewers cheer her on so enthusiastically, Yeon-a let out a bittersweet smile. They teased her a lot, but even that was care and love—far more than she deserved. There had been times when she wondered if she was allowed to receive such affection. But now, Yeon-a had decided not to think that way anymore. What else could she do? She had no intention of quitting streaming, and she knew better than anyone that nothing would happen if she stayed afraid.
Instead of running away, she swallowed her breath. ‘If someone has a reason to live, they endure in some way.’ It was her favorite saying, and one she hoped Suhyun would come to believe as well. Yeon-a resolved to support Suhyun by showing her own steady self—in the way she did best. ‘I’ll show you something even cooler than the humming you let me hear back then.’ After making that vow to herself, Yeon-a took a deep breath and nodded.
The seats were emptier than expected. We managed to find the best spots among them. ‘…Yeon-a’s singing……’ I had heard her sing on stream before, but this was the first time listening like this. It reminded me of the songs Yeon-a used to sing back in our school days. ‘I’m looking forward to it.’ A smile naturally formed as I thought about Yeon-a’s singing that would stir up old memories.
The spacious concert hall was still quiet.
[I’m just trying to keep it comfortable] Haram asked if that was okay. Since casual felt better than stiff, I told her it was fine.
"Ah, no, it’s okay… Yeah, why?"
Haram smiled faintly as she said that. I scratched my cheek awkwardly.
"Just… thinking about the old days." Back then—middle school. The memory of seeing Yeon-a dance at the festival bloomed in my mind. She had been beautiful. Her figure shining brighter than anyone else on stage had been stunning. So much so that she felt like an entirely different existence from me. ‘…Maybe what I regretted most was not being able to hear her voice.’ Lost in these thoughts, I turned off the mic for a moment and looked at the chat.
The chat was making a fuss over just one sighting. I liked that about my Jireongis. I whispered to them, "It’s quiet… I like it quiet. Though it’ll get lively soon enough." With a small laugh. The Jireongis replied that they liked quiet too.
Even a single word got such lively reactions that I almost felt like I was talking to kindergarteners. I didn’t dislike kids. My younger siblings had been adorable, and seeing a happily smiling baby made me project myself onto them. It made me envious, so I hoped they would grow up well. I had no confidence I could give birth and raise one properly myself, but I could still wish for a baby.
‘If I had one… I probably couldn’t raise it well.’ With a sigh, I chuckled and told the Jireongis they were just like babies. "You guys are totally like babies… Yeah, babies."
The Jireongis reacted similarly to how I had when I was called a baby. Hoping they understood the feeling, I simply chuckled. After chatting nonsense for a bit, the surroundings had grown lively. Though I wanted to escape because I preferred quiet, I held it in. I had come here today to see Yeon-a, after all. I would cheer her on properly and enjoy this place.
The stage was filling with people. With most of the server gathered, quite a noisy clamor could be heard. At the same time, backstage, the slightly nervous voices of the performers exchanged words. People marveled at how many there were. Among the YouTubers, Yeon-a—who wasn’t mingling—stood alone, taking deep breaths to steady herself. Standing on stage was still terrifying. Ever since her father passed, the looks directed at her had turned much harsher. It was her own fault, but that didn’t mean she could handle it.
"Huuu……"
"Thank you. I’m okay now." Even as she said that, Yeon-a exhaled. At least it was fortunate that she was going first. She didn’t need to worry about others’ skills or feel her chest tighten as the order approached. Grateful for that, Yeon-a finished her preparations. Soon, at the operator’s call, she moved onto the stage.
"Wow……" As she stepped onto the stage, countless people came into view. Gazing at them, Yeon-a let out an admiring breath. Suhyun was nowhere to be seen. According to the parrot-like viewers, she was probably somewhere out there. ‘She’d be grateful if I got cheered on.’ Even if she wanted it, she knew it was impossible. Suhyun’s personality was just too timid for that.
Just as Yeon-a was about to start the performance, a single clear voice rang out from the sea of people.
The chat flew by rapidly. The other YouTubers were probably reacting. But among them, Suhyun said nothing, simply staring blankly at Yeon-a. With Suhyun’s shout as the last sound, the stage fell silent. There, Yeon-a pushed her nervousness aside for the moment and began her greeting.
"Hello… My name is Tachibana Kits. I was invited today to sing… Please take care of me, and if I may add one more thing—thank you, Snake-snake."
After speaking in her charming voice, a melody flowed out. The lyrical ballad’s melody spread across the stage. No one’s words could be heard. Only Yeon-a, focused on the stage. Then she sang a line.
"…There’s no name to be called by me. I’m meeting you wearing a mask."
A song carrying Yeon-a’s feelings. Hoping it would reach Suhyun, Yeon-a sang. And that heart was conveyed exactly to Suhyun.
"…!!"
The chat scrolled up quickly. The other YouTubers were probably reacting. But among them, Suhyun said nothing, simply staring blankly at Yeon-a.
"……"
A few tears that couldn’t be seen on the virtual avatar welled up in Suhyun’s eyes.