Chapter 106: By fountain (4)

Part 6

“…You worked hard,” Youngjin said.

“Yeah…” Yoonseo replied.

“…Should I ask my parents to raise your pay?”

Yoonseo couldn’t outright say no—part of her felt mercenary for even considering it. Today’s shift had been that grueling. How to put it? The kind of day where you’re already dreading tomorrow.

“…Honestly, if it’s like this every day, I don’t think I can keep up,” Yoonseo admitted.

“I wouldn’t say it in front of my parents, but… this feels kinda wrong,” Youngjin agreed.

The owners looked tired but proud, and understandably so—today’s sales were insane. In every sense.

“They’re used to it, so they’re fine… but you? You coming in tomorrow?” Yoonseo asked.

“You’re worried about me? If the other three knew how hard I pushed you, they’d kill me,” Youngjin said.

“Kidding?”

“Maybe not.”

Seeing him shrug, Yoonseo couldn’t help but laugh. Should I be grateful he’s here? If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be in this mess. Ambivalent, she chuckled at his slumped shoulders under the setting sun’s light—cooler than midday, twice as dazzling. They stood still, mocking each other’s exhaustion with tired giggles.

Their steps, paused in sync, resumed together in the lingering silence. They walked slowly through the alley, taking in the everyday sight of each other’s profiles.

“Next week’s shoot? Try to look a bit less… photogenic,” Youngjin said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yoonseo asked.

“If you go viral again like with that Blue N game, and get more famous, our shop won’t handle it. We’re at capacity,” he said.

“Your mom would scold you for saying that,” Yoonseo teased.

“Twenty years as the bakery’s son tells me today’s our limit. It’s not about expanding the building—we’d need more staff,” Youngjin said.

He didn’t stop walking but let out a wry laugh. Seeing him smirk as if she didn’t get it, Yoonseo narrowed her eyes, glaring at his profile.

“…Hiring more people’s no big deal, is it?” she asked.

“You won’t stay a part-timer forever. Your fame won’t last forever either,” he said.

“I’m planning to keep working here, though? Bakery shifts?”

“No way. Don’t kid yourself,” he scoffed.

The alley’s end came into view, winding through buildings to the main road. A bus stop was just a minute away.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Today was tough, but three days a week—Friday, Saturday, Sunday—is doable. I’m making Fridays free,” Yoonseo insisted.

“Your pay cut was set ages ago. By school’s start, we’ll find a replacement,” Youngjin said.

“…Why?”

Yoonseo vaguely understood. Today’s boom was temporary. Curiosity-driven customers wouldn’t keep coming, and once the hype died, she’d be a liability—too much attention, too many risks. There’d been no major issues today, but trouble wasn’t absent. She’d thought she could manage like before, but—

“You’re too talented to waste on bakery shifts,” Youngjin said.

His words cut through her thoughts, completely off from what she’d expected. Stunned, she stopped just before exiting the alley.

“What’s that mean?” she asked.

“Exactly what I said. At first, my parents thought keeping you close was safer since you seemed so anxious. But now? It’s time to let you go,” he said.

“Let go? I don’t get it—what’s this about wasting talent?”

“You know you’re not meant for an ordinary life anymore,” he said.

“Huh?!”

His chuckle hit as he grabbed her arm, pulling her out of the alley. The sunset’s light, once direct, now scattered like spilled paint, filling the surroundings.

“Do what you love, what makes you happy. Me, my parents—we all think so,” Youngjin said.

“…I’ve lost count how many times I’ve said it, but your bakery’s—”

“Streaming. Hanging out with people. That’s not scary anymore, right?”

Yoonseo adjusted her cap, which she used to wear to hide from stares. Not anymore.

“Streaming’s fun. Getting photographed’s fun. Talking to people’s fun,” she admitted.

“…You’re already drowning in communication,” Youngjin pointed out.

“Not the stiff, hierarchical kind like customer service. Something more equal. That’s why I poke around Sanghyun’s streams, why I started streaming,” she explained.

Youngjin walked toward the bus stop. Watching his back, Yoonseo followed, her mind tangled from his sudden question.

She’d joined Sanghyun’s streams craving acceptance from people who didn’t know her old self, who took her as she was now. She loved their unprompted kindness, the warmth. That’s what she’d thought.

“…Am I an attention seeker?” she asked.

“Everyone’s an attention seeker, consciously or not. It’s just about what kind you want,” Youngjin said.

“That’s not some lame attempt at comfort, is it?”

“Hmm.”

She’d started as someone whose self-worth hinged on others’ validation, but she’d changed. Or maybe, she realized, what she’d always wanted hadn’t changed at all.

“You’re lucky you didn’t go into humanities,” she teased.

“Not all humanities majors need to be eloquent,” he countered.

“Talent’s talent.”

I love laughing and chatting with people more than I thought. When sad, happy, or tired, she needed people who’d listen and respond. Hyunji, Minho, Bonfire, Dr. Kang, friends, viewers—all of them. Sharing words and laughter with them was what brought her joy.

“…You made it sound dumb,” she said.

“Hey, I’m trying to care—”

“I get what you mean,” she laughed.

Youngjin’s parents probably hadn’t seen her streams, but adults saw things differently. Standing at the counter wasn’t truly fun—it was the conversations, like bantering with the white-haired grandpa, that she enjoyed.

“…Anyway, that’s how it is,” Youngjin said.

“You’re saying I should be a streamer too, huh?”

“Someone else beat me to it,” he said.

“Juyoung told me to ditch grad school and stream,” she revealed.

“Streamer’s better than slave,” he teased.

They laughed, stopping at the bus stop. Without extra goodbyes, Youngjin waved lazily, and Yoonseo mirrored him, grinning.

“Enjoying communication…” she murmured, watching his back fade. A face—someone she worried about—flickered like a mirage in the sunset. Duty? Pity? Either way, it was fine.

“…Haa.”

Maybe they were like her, just needing someone to accept them as they are, to laugh and talk without masks. Not for grand reasons like proving worth, but like she did with friends, family, viewers.

“…Next week’s drinks should be fun.”