Chapter 57: Togo Napshin (9)

Part 19

As expected, an awkward silence settled over the room as everyone sat down, maintaining an uneasy distance. The heavy quiet that followed the greetings and photo was only natural. We were acquaintances at best, connected through screens—meeting face-to-face for the first time was bound to feel different. Whether fan or celebrity, the vibe of chatting through a monitor versus sitting in person was worlds apart.

“…By the way, you said you had someone lined up for makeup, right?” I said, breaking the silence.

If the quiet dragged on, it’d become impossible to speak. I wasn’t exactly a social butterfly, but I knew that much. So, despite the awkwardness, I turned to Homin and spoke. He seemed startled by the sudden attention, his mouth twitching slightly.

“Oh, right, now that you mention it,” came a response—not from Homin, but from Bonfire. We’d exchanged names, but he seemed more comfortable with his handle, and honestly, it felt more natural to me too. I’d stick with calling him Bonfire unless he said otherwise.

“Yes?” I asked.

“Right before you arrived, I was with a cosplayer from Flying Rabbit. We only exchanged brief hellos and went about our business, so we didn’t talk much…” Bonfire trailed off.

“Haha…” I let out an awkward laugh, nodding slightly.

I should’ve arrived earlier, even if I was groggy from sleep. The thought of Bonfire enduring awkward silence alone with a stranger in this room felt like torture. Then again, our arrival hadn’t exactly lightened the mood either. The thought flickered through my mind.

“Oh, that’s probably her. Red bob, right?” Homin said.

“Yeah. You’re handling the shoot, so I wondered why she was here. Makeup assistant, then?” Bonfire asked.

“Honestly, you could probably skip it, but it makes a big difference in vibe. She was excited about it too,” Homin replied.

Red hair? My hand instinctively reached for my own hair. Its length now reached past my shoulders, but it was the unusual color that stood out—impossible for most Asians. A rare pigment mutation. Could there be someone else like me in Korea? The thought hit me.

“She went to grab lunch at the café, so she should be back soon…” Homin said.

“I’ll give her a call. Prepping early will keep the schedule relaxed, right?” Bonfire suggested.

No, it’s probably just dye—more realistic. The doctor had firmly said no one else in Korea had my condition. And red hair occurring naturally, even in foreigners? Unlikely. I shook off the thought.

“Yoonseo-ssi?” Homin called.

“Y-Yes?” I replied, startled.

“Once the makeup person arrives, want to do makeup and costume checks right away?” he asked.

Lost in thought, I hadn’t noticed his question was directed at me. I looked up to see Homin’s concerned expression.

“If you’re still tired, we’ve got about 20 minutes. You could nap…” he offered.

“No, no, it’s not that. Just got lost in thought,” I said.

“If you’re feeling off, please tell us. Photos won’t turn out well if you’re not in good shape,” he insisted.

I gave a small smile to signal I was fine, but it didn’t seem to work. His playful tone carried genuine worry, evident in his voice and expression.

“Really, I space out a lot. This guy can vouch for me,” I said, glancing at Seokyoon.

“Huh? Me?” he said.

“Yeah, right?” I pressed, narrowing my eyes at him.

Back me up. You’re my bodyguard, my mental health squad, aren’t you? I shot him a look full of that sentiment.

“…Well, when we’re in group settings, she does tend to zone out into her own world sometimes,” Seokyoon admitted.

“See? That’s all it is,” I said.

I wasn’t sure if he caught it, but I subtly gave him a thumbs-up under the chair. Thought I didn’t need a protector? This guy’s proving useful.

Part 20

“So, it’s been fun trying this out. I’m not planning to drop school or anything, but after this cosplay, maybe streaming occasionally to chat with everyone wouldn’t be bad…” I said.

The conversation had shifted to Seokyoon, touching on school days, then rolling into how tough it is to make a living these days. That led to Homin’s question about whether I’d seriously consider streaming. I was about to answer when—

“Where’s Cheungjeokun’s Nuna?!”

The door slammed open with a bang! The metal door clanged against the wall, vibrating oddly. Frozen with my mouth half-open, I heard rapid footsteps closing in. My body flinched instinctively, and my eyes landed on—red.

“Kyaaa! Oh my gosh, it’s the real deal!!!” a voice squealed.

“Guh—?!” I gasped.

“Sorry! Can I just hug you once?!”

She was already hugging me. I didn’t have the strength to point that out. Her red hair had caught my eye first because, by the time I processed it, she was already in my arms. The soft pressure against my chest would’ve been delightful before my change, but now, weakened, it felt like I was being crushed.

“Hyunji! To a stranger…! Yoonseo-ssi, you okay?!” Homin called.

“Oh! S-Sorry…” she stammered.

“But it’s the real deal! Seeing this face in person, not through a screen—who could resist?! Right?!” she exclaimed.

“Well… not exactly one-on-one…” I muttered.

“Anyway! Good vibes all around!” she chirped.

As she stepped back, I finally got a good look at Hyunji. Her figure was almost unreal for a Korean—bountiful curves, no excess fat, tall and striking. Her lively smile and sharp features felt more “handsome” than “pretty.”

“Nice to meet you! I’m Park Hyunji, here to play with Nuna’s face today! I model for Flying Rabbit!” she said.

Beyond her beaming smile, her vibrant energy was dazzling. I’d pictured someone reserved when Bonfire mentioned “doing their own thing,” but this was the opposite.

“…Nice to meet you. I’m Yoonseo, in your care today,” I said.

“Ugh… that voice… so good… your hands are so soft…”

As we shook hands, Hyunji’s knees buckled dramatically. Her gentle grip on my hands felt oddly dangerous, a mix of embarrassment and fear washing over me. Looking around, I seemed to be the only one sensing trouble—everyone else just looked bewildered.

“Sorry… really, ever since I saw you on stream, I thought working with you would be fun… sniff… You’re not hurt, are you? Was it too much? Should I stop? Oh, but the cushion probably softened the dive—”

What a my-pace person. I felt like I should’ve been mad, but the moment to get angry had passed in my confusion. All I could do was let out a hollow laugh and repeat, “It’s fine.”

Part 21

Upon closer inspection, the roots of her red hair were, regrettably, black.