Chapter 4: Motivation (4)

Part 7

“Wear something nice for a change. Don’t just stick to what Mom and Dad bought you.”

Another day passed without incident.
Before I could even ask about the clothing bag suddenly thrust at me with those words, Sanghyeon darted back to his room.
I thought it was odd he was up early in the morning, only for him to casually say he “hadn’t gone to bed yet.”
It was a bit absurd.
Peeking into the bag, I saw, as expected, all women’s clothing—expensive brand-name stuff, no less.

“…Is he teasing me?”

Still groggy from sleep, I quickly brushed off the thought with a “whatever” attitude.
He’d said something sweet yesterday, so I could tolerate a little teasing.
If there were clothes I really didn’t like, I just wouldn’t wear them.

“I won’t throw them out, out of respect for the gesture…”

I lifted a flowy dress and a matching pleated skirt and blouse—items that still felt too much for me—and neatly folded them away.
At the bottom, as if deliberately placed to suggest a preference, were more subdued options: jeans with a lining suitable for the chilly weather, a plain white hoodie, some short shorts, and short-sleeve shirts that seemed fine for lounging at home.

“Dolphin shorts, right?”

Back when I was a guy, seeing these in streams or subculture media always gave me a warm feeling.
I never imagined I’d be the one wearing them.

“…Yeah, these are on hold too.”

Carrying the stack of clothes, I slowly returned to my room.
I hadn’t fully sorted out the men’s clothes still in my closet, and I wanted to separate them from the women’s clothes.
But with our older brother, Junseok, leaving early for work and skipping breakfast unless forced to eat, I needed to prepare something simple like toast, which left me short on time.

5:45 a.m.
Thanks to going to bed early, I didn’t feel tired.
I wasn’t confident in cooking, but I was decent at preparing food, so finding the tools in the dim light wasn’t hard.

“…Is there any cabbage?”

A loaf of bread on the shelf caught my eye.
Naturally thinking of toast, I opened the fridge’s vegetable drawer.
I pulled out a half-head of cabbage, cut it in half again, and put the rest back.
Grabbing two eggs and some bacon, I shut the fridge with a thud, annoyed at its cold air.

I sliced the cabbage on a cutting board.
In a wide bowl, I cracked the eggs, added a pinch of salt and pepper, and mixed in the shredded cabbage.
In a frying pan, I melted a bit of butter, spreading it thinly, and toasted two slices of bread on low heat until golden.
I didn’t forget to butter the other side before flipping.

“…Did I use too much butter?”

The rich buttery aroma wafted up from the toasted bread.
I figured I might not need much oil for the cabbage, but to avoid sticking or burning—and the hassle of cleaning—I drizzled a little oil anyway.

I shaped the egg-cabbage mix into a round patty and placed it in the pan on low heat.
I cooked the bacon alongside it until golden.
Once the egg patty seemed set enough not to fall apart, I flipped it to finish.

“…What are you doing this early, Yoonseo?”

“Good morning. I went to bed early yesterday, so I woke up without thinking.”

“You making that for yourself?”

Giggling, I answered Junseok, who was sluggishly emerging from his room down the hall.
A faint groan, as if reluctant, came in response to my voice.

“I could just grab a triangle kimbap on the way.”

“I know you won’t, so just eat this nicely, okay?”

“Why go through the trouble of cooking?”

“It’s not cooking, it’s just preparing something ready-made. It’s not a hassle at all, so sit and wait a sec.”

Getting Junseok to eat breakfast was something I only managed during breaks when my schedule had some flexibility, so I didn’t want to miss the chance.
It started about two years ago, after he collapsed from malnutrition due to two weeks of overtime, lying in a hospital bed with an IV in his arm.
It had become a sort of seasonal hobby for me.

I hadn’t thought about it during the past week, too caught up in my own head, but today I felt good enough to give it a go.
Junseok, though, seemed less than thrilled.

“Any cheese?”

“None in the fridge.”

“Sprinkle some sugar.”

“Mustard?”

“Just ketchup—”

Bread. A bit of sugar. Bacon. Cabbage. More sugar. Bread again.
I brought the plated toast to the table, where Junseok was already sipping milk from a glass.

“Said you didn’t want to eat, but you’re ready to dig in, huh?”

“If I don’t eat, you’ll chase me to the bathroom and shove it in my mouth.”

“True enough.”

With some cabbage left, I heated the pan again to make a half-toast for myself.
Worried the buttery smell might wake someone, I turned on the exhaust fan and cracked the windows halfway.

“You seem in a good mood.”

“Finally found something fun to do.”

“Something fun?”

Come to think of it, what would Junseok think about the stream?
Only my voice and part of my body from chest to waist would show, but would he, like Sanghyeon, dislike the idea of me being exposed to random people?

“Secret.”

“…Late-onset puberty?”

“Long past that.”

So, for now, I’d keep quiet.
I’d try it a few times, and if it felt off, I’d quit and bury it in my heart.
If it seemed fine, I’d let him know later.

“…Heh.”

“You don’t just seem in a good mood—you look like something’s broken.”

I let Junseok’s words slide off me.
A small escape from my boring routine!
If only night would come faster.

Part 8

“I’m saying it again, guys, seriously, no creepy comments when my sister’s here, okay? I already explained everything.”

– Got it.

– What, you don’t trust us? Lol.

“I’ve seen you guys’ nonsense for more than a day or two—how could I trust you?”

Can I even handle this?
The thought flashed through Sanghyeon’s mind, but the die was already cast.
Just moments ago, Yoonseo had texted, “Can I watch from the side today?” and he’d given the okay as planned, already announcing it on stream.

– I clipped the part with your sister’s voice and looped it 150 times. Ugh, I’m dying.

“That’s exactly the kind of stuff I told you not to do!”

It was a compromise between family concern and the lure of profit.
He’d figured this level of restriction would keep things under control, that nothing unexpected would spiral out.
But seeing the wildly active chat, he started to worry he’d been too naive.

“Please think about my position—I had to grovel and apologize after worrying about her.
If you guys act like this and she gets shocked and never wants to watch my stream again, what then?”

– Lol, we won’t do that in the main stream.

– When’s your sister coming?

– Sister? What’s that about? Dating sim today?

There wasn’t a dramatic spike in viewership, but the audience was clearly hyped for something different.
Excitement loosened wallets.
Sanghyeon swallowed hard, thinking about how much a bit of fan service could open those wallets.

A gamble.
A gamble using his family, no less.
If he pulled it off and hit the jackpot, he’d at least have some ground to stand on when apologizing later.

– Sanghyeon, can I come in?

“Here she is! Come in, Sis!”

She was here.
His grip tightened on the mouse as he adjusted the screen.
A deep breath.
He’d done this plenty of times—collaborations, too.
No need to be nervous.
Just do it like always.
He silently psyched himself up.

– SIS!!!!!!

– ???? Who’s that? Who’s here?

– Showing her face today?

– Thanks for the 10,000-won donation, DeepSeaCheungjeokun nim!

“Thanks for the 10,000-won donation, DeepSeaCheungjeokun nim! Alright, here we go—”

He stood up slightly, walking toward the door.
He deliberately unlocked it and shouted, loud enough to carry over the distance from the mic.

“For the past two days, you’ve all been begging to hear her voice again—here’s my sister!”

It starts now.