Chapter 19: Tangerine Flower Paper (1)

Part 1

“You’re saying you’re trying to stay friends with Yoonseo, our buddy of ten years, not some random girl…”

I rinsed the empty soju bottles with water and neatly lined them up by the sink.
Our household didn’t drink much, so we rarely collected bottles, but I vaguely recalled a decent stash somewhere.
Mom probably stored them in the shed or somewhere, but I couldn’t remember exactly where, so I left them in plain sight for now.

The guys had handled the dishes before leaving, so tidying up some stray trash was all it took to wrap up our little gathering.
A glance at the clock showed it was just past 2:30 p.m.
Sanghyeon wouldn’t be up for a bit, and the rest of the family, busy with their lives, had no reason to be home at this hour.

“…Funny guys.”

The end of our meetup was a blur, thanks to the alcohol fueling my emotions, but I vaguely recalled spouting some embarrassingly sappy stuff to cover my shame.
Their odd mix of stifled laughs confirmed it.

“Haa…”

Still, it felt like a weight had lifted.
Even if they were a bit awkward, knowing they were trying to accept me as me was enough to make me happy.
It was like being told, “You’re you,” and validated in a way.
…Though, leaning on others like this—doesn’t that scream low self-esteem?

“…Our house looks so big all of a sudden.”

No burly guys here, but with four grown men gone, the place felt oddly spacious.
The relief and joy were huge, but so was the sudden emptiness.

After tossing the last plastic bags into the trash, I washed my hands at the sink and shuffled to the living room.
The movie we’d half-watched had rolled past the credits and stopped.
I pulled out my phone and checked the group chat.
The last messages were brief farewells from the guys, and it had been quiet since.

“…If I start a conversation, they’ll tease me for sure.”

Someone’s voice—probably calling me a kid for crying, laughing, and throwing a fit—echoed vividly in my mind.
I hadn’t exactly poured out my deepest worries, so they didn’t understand me like family might, but I could roughly guess how I appeared to them now.

“…It’s kinda overwhelming.”

I thought about playing music or reading, but today—no, right now—that didn’t feel right.
Maybe it was the lingering excitement?
Instead of something calm, I craved something more… connected.

“…Am I actually crazy?”

I wanted to talk to someone, anyone, to let out this pent-up energy.
Staring at the silent chat fueled that urge.

“Dangerous. Dangerous, dangerous…”

Call the doctor?
No, that’s actually dangerous.
Who knows what I’d blabber about?
Family? Friends?
Every option felt wrong.
Sit next to a stranger at a café?

“…That’d just make me look like a total weirdo.”

Plus, I wasn’t ready to face complete strangers in this body and have a real conversation.

“…There’s gotta be something. Some groundbreaking solution…”

The first idea was streaming.
No need to face anyone directly—just talk through a mic, get one-sided kindness from viewers.
But then I remembered Sanghyeon, who’d enable that, was still asleep.
I’d only ever appeared on his streams, never run one myself.

“…Wait. Do I really need Sanghyeon to start it?”

No cam, no mic, but I had a laptop for schoolwork with a built-in microphone.

“…Isn’t that enough?”

I peeked into Sanghyeon’s room.
He was fast asleep in the dim, curtained space, probably an hour from waking.
Carefully closing the door to avoid noise, I headed to my room with a spring in my step.

Part 2

[This seems legit?] – Anonymous

– I think it’s really Cheungjeokun’s sis? Check the link I’ll drop in the comments, go see for yourself!

┕ Anonymous (OP): (URL link)

┕ Anonymous: LOL, the nickname’s literally “Cheungjeokun’s Sister” hahaha

┕ Anonymous: Kinda makes it seem more legit with such a bold name;

┕ Anonymous (OP): No, seriously, listen to the voice—it’s her! Not many people watching, so she’s super responsive. Now’s your chance, go go go!

Part 3

“…Is this it?”

After a quick signup and program install, the setup took a mere five minutes—almost disappointingly easy.
The screen was plain black, with a chat window positioned on the right, mimicking Sanghyeon’s setup.
The “Start Stream” button seemed to ask, “You sure this is okay?”

“…Feels a bit empty.”

But it’s not like this laptop was for gaming.
No games installed.
Better than displaying a thesis, right?
Random doubts swirled, freezing my hand on the mouse, but I reassured myself—What else can I do?—and clicked the button.

“…Ugh.”

A brief silence.
The viewer count stayed at zero.
I stared, then closed my eyes in defeat.
I’d half-worried hundreds would flood in, but of course not.

“No foundation like Sanghyeon’s, and just borrowing his name won’t make it happen…”

Feeling hollow, I was about to decide to read and wake Sanghyeon early when—

– Is it really you, Sis?

“…Oh. TwoEyesTooturuBbaraBba, hello.”

A familiar donor from Sanghyeon’s streams, memorable for the quirky nickname.
Sanghyeon called them a “major shareholder.”

– Whoa, it’s really her.

“…I was bored with some free time. If Sanghyeon—Cheungjeokun—was up, I’d just watch him.”

– Going solo with your own stream?

It took a second to process.
Realizing they meant, “Are you starting your own stream?” I shook my head, knowing they couldn’t see.

“No, no. I’m just… in a weird mood today. I don’t really play games, and I’m not as entertaining as my brother.”

– With your voice, Sis, you could just talk on a black screen and still pull a huge crowd, fr.

“Haha… You’re too kind. Thanks, even if it’s just flattery.”

– So, what’s up? Something happen?

No face-to-face, just one typing, one talking.
The distance felt perfect.
In person, I’d be too tense, but like this, I could chat casually, like acquaintances who know each other’s faces.

“Nothing big, really… Just, some stuff I was worried about recently worked out, so I’m kinda hyped. Thought about reading, but I’m too restless, so I figured I’d talk to someone, anyone…”

– TwoEyesTooturuBbaraBba donated 5,000 won!

– Hold up, gimme a sec.

“…Uh? Thank you for the donation. But what…”

I stared at the silent chat, muttering, “…Hello?”
The viewer count didn’t drop, so the stream was still live.

“…What’s going on?”

A minute passed. Then another.

“…Oh!”

The viewer count, stuck at 1, suddenly spiked.