Who Am I? (2)

The debate only grew more ferocious.

Lac, prepared to a fault, declared that he had gathered the opinions of famous streamers in advance and submitted the footage as evidence. Clemoomoo appeared first, bellowing his allegiance to the Pour camp. After him, streamers long known as Pour loyalists showed their faces one after another and locked arms in grand unity.

"Well? The will of the colleagues who share my conviction! And ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠our dream!"

"Yeah, no. That concept is a little much."

Now ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it was my turn to answer. Honestly, Lac's preparation was so overwhelming that meeting him head-on wasn't easy. So I decided this was the moment to play the family card.

"Listening to your argument so far, people who dip are destroying the environment, spitting on historical tradition, have no palate, will die forever untouched, and are ugly besides. Is that what you said?"

"Uh, uh... I never said that last part. The first claim is correct, though."

"Then allow me just one remark."

"Which is?"

"My mother and father are dippers."

"...!"

The family card. Absolute, and impossible to block. For a moment a cold silence swept the room. Lac couldn't seem to get his mouth open. I didn't stop there. I pressed harder.

"You wouldn't be talking smack about my parents, would you? Let me remind you in advance that this is a public broadcast, and a great many viewers are watching."

"Th-that's..."

Lac, backed into a corner. In the end he played the family card too. The only answer to parents is parents. He appealed that his own parents were Pour people as well.

"All right. I'll believe you. Surely you wouldn't lie about your parents' tastes just to dodge a moment of crisis."

"..."

It wasn't a KO, but he was plainly staggering. I decided to ride the momentum.

"All right, my turn now. You're ready, yes?"

"Oh my, what about me makes you say that? I'll show you properly what intellectual really looks like."

"...Mia, that concept's kinda gross too."

"Hmph!"

I snipped the sprout of suspicion the viewers were showing. My throat felt ticklish. Mia's voice sat in a higher register than mine, after all. Forcing the energy up and really working the voice, the fatigue stacked at a different speed. The timing was decent, so I decided to play a video I'd prepared and buy myself a little rest.

"The truth is, this debate never needed to happen. Because Lac... that man is a shameless two-face."

"What? This is a frame job. What are you saying to a man who could live his whole life without a single law..."

"Quiet. Here's the evidence."

The video began to play. It was footage of Lac, Mia, and Clemoomoo eating together, an afterparty once a collab stream had ended. Delivery containers sat in a neat row across the table. Mia moved first and started mixing her share of jajangmyeon—black bean noodles—with obvious relish. Clemoomoo pulled the jjamppong, a spicy seafood noodle soup, in close and took one enormous chopstickful. And last of all, Lac...

"Anything you'd like to say?"

"Uh, that's... no, that was—"

A voice anyone could hear was shaking spilled out through the mic.

Because the Lac on screen, the instant he peeled the plastic off the sweet-and-sour pork and its sauce, picked up his chopsticks and simply dipped. Then he brought it neatly to his mouth and ate with pure delight.

Public opinion in the chat flipped in an instant. For this moment alone, Pour and Dip didn't matter. One heart, one will, they all piled onto Lac.

"I'm sorry. That was consideration, because I knew Mia and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Clemoomoo hyung, who had to eat with me, were dippers. Imagine if I'd poured the sauce right there. Those two would've been unhappy, wouldn't they?"

"All right. We'll call it that."

"...You feel kinda unfamiliar today."

He looked faintly thrown by how I never lost my composure for even a second. The usual Mia would have charged him the moment he showed a gap, reckless as a kid who loves a mean little prank.

If I flatten him too easily, it's no fun. Call it a little hint.

Even so, Lac scrubbed the suspicion away almost at once. He probably couldn't imagine it. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠That the person laughing and chatting with him right now was not the Mia he had known for nearly two years, but someone else entirely. Which was exactly why I looked forward to the reaction when the truth came out.

"...And so, by scientific analysis, Pour's victory is certain!"

"Sure. I'll give you that."

"..."

The debate reached its endgame. Lac fought for a reversal, but the clip I'd offered as evidence—him dipping the sweet-and-sour pork—was simply too strong. For all his passionate pleading, the viewers treated him like a traitor and refused to play along. That atmosphere never turned, not to the very end.

"Kh! That I should suffer this humiliation..."

"Don't take it so hard. Your opponent was me."

That was the final vote. A shocking result, the kind that had never come out of any fight-to-the-finish debate before. Lac was stunned senseless, the viewers were simply delighted, and I wasn't finished yet.

"Oppa."

"Uh, uh? Yeah. What?"

I whispered it to Lac—still dazed, still unable to pull himself together after a defeat that overwhelming—in a sweet tone nothing like the usual Mia.

"There's actually something I need to tell you."

"Huh? Ahaha, you're setting a weird mood. What prank are you trying to pull?"

"I'm not joking."

"..."

The chat exploded. Whatever they were imagining, I could hear Lac swallow dry through Discord. The truth was, I was nervous too. A different kind of nervous from his. I pictured the real Mia somewhere, watching this and rolling on the floor clutching her stomach, and I shoved the image away. Then I opened my mouth again.

"Oppa, I know this is sudden, but I'm going to sing one song. Listen."

"Uh... yeah."

The acting was flawless enough that not only Lac, but the viewers too, were completely taken in and running their mouths. I drew a breath and sent out the song I'd prepared. A song I loved far too much. An OST from Nonstop 4, sung by Han Aesul.

From the very first line, at the word love, I could read Lac locking up even harder. The chat's confusion only swelled. With every eye on me, I had to carry the song in Mia's voice without a single mistake. The difficulty was brutal. Little by little my voice trembled, and the pitch grew faintly unsteady.

They say the interpretation matters more than the dream. Even when I slipped and let a thread of my real voice bleed through, the viewers covered for me on their own. I couldn't ruin it after coming this far, so I sang with everything I had.

All at once the memory of my first love surfaced. She had loved red so much. On our first date she came out in a red dress and red heels, and the moment I spotted her from far away, I laughed. The memory welled up, fresh as if it had just happened. I didn't let go of that feeling. I poured it straight into the song.

And I focused. Lac's reaction, the viewers' chat, all of it receded from my head. Only the lyrics, one by one, and the memory of a first love so dear and so pure. I told everyone. That we had loved with our hearts trembling.

"..."

The song ended. I was spent. It felt as if I had poured all of myself out. What was I even doing? I'd overdone it so badly that things had drifted a little from the original plan.

Oh, please. A compliment out of nowhere doesn't suit you. That's what I answered—and I couldn't have been more wrong.

The chat had seized up. It stuttered as if the whole stream had lagged. Somewhere along the way the viewer count had climbed, and I hadn't even noticed. More than ten thousand. The first number like that I'd seen since the Miracle joint broadcast.

And then the Water Balloons burst. A hundred was modest. Five hundred, even a thousand, popped like it was nothing.

"H-huh? Why's everyone acting like this? Did something happen, guys?"

This wasn't the usual reaction from viewers who laughed, chattered, and messed around. The attitude was far too serious, and so were the comments. And Lac was no different.

"Mia. You said you had something to say."

"Huh? Oh, y-yeah."

"I think I can hear it now. Go on."

There was some kind of resolve in him, and it threw me. No—this was not the mood I'd pictured. But it was far too late to run. I carefully switched the cam on, put my face on the screen, and, hoping to flip the atmosphere, called out in a bright voice.

"..."

And so I filmed a legendary scene that would be talked about on Shindaeryuk TV for a long, long time.