Chapter 62: Promising (2)

Part 4

• Owoowo!
• Nuna!!!!
• Oi oi, Jangjak-kun! I knew we could trust you, damn it!

“Um… should I say, ‘Nice to meet you’ or something?” I asked.

“Pretty sure everyone watching right now already knows you, Nuna,” Bonfire replied.

Why ‘Nuna’ instead of Yoonseo-ssi? I wondered. Then it hit me—he was probably avoiding using my real name on a public stream out of courtesy. Come to think of it, Sanghyeon never used my real name on his streams either. Some kind of streamer etiquette, maybe?

“Haha… well, it’s my first time on Bonfire-nim’s stream, so… nice to meet you all! I’m Cheungjeokun’s sister,” I said.

I didn’t know the full context, but there was no reason to reject the kindness. Compared to the massive monitor Sanghyeon used for streaming—my default image of a “stream”—this tiny phone screen was absurdly small. Still, the broadcast feed took up most of it, leaving the chat window so cramped that only a few messages could fit at once. The relentless flood of chats was impossible to keep up with.

How does anyone hold a conversation staring at this? I cautiously shifted my gaze to Bonfire, who nodded slowly, as if interpreting my look as, What do I do? Just do whatever you want? No, I mean, I don’t even know where to start!

Staring at the ceaselessly scrolling chat, all I could manage was an awkward smile. This is overwhelming. With fewer slots for messages and a much larger audience than I was used to, following the conversation was impossible. I caught glimpses of question marks—probably questions—but…

“Uh… um… can you all see me okay? I’ve never streamed from a phone before, so I’m not sure if the screen’s coming through properly,” I said.

• Yes!!!! Sensei!!!!
• We can see you perfectly, Nuna!!!!
• Heeung… long-haired Traveler Nuna…
• Jangjak, isn’t it time to upgrade your phone????

I couldn’t just keep smiling, so I threw out a random comment, but a wave of hundreds of overlapping replies only made my already dizzy head spin. What is this? This wasn’t like any stream I knew. Was Sanghyeon’s chat actually super tame in comparison?

“Okay, folks, have you had your fill of Nuna’s face? Your fiery enthusiasm seems to be overwhelming her, so I’ll take over and filter the chat for a bit,” Bonfire said.

Salvation came just as I was floundering. Bonfire stood from his chair, silently extending an arm toward me. I nodded gratefully and carefully handed him the phone. The last glimpse of the chat showed messages like, Don’t go! scrolling by.

“She’s not going anywhere. You’re all typing so furiously she can’t keep up. I’ll pass along the good stuff, okay?” he said.

One thing was clear: this pro streamer could actually read that tiny, rapid-fire chat to some extent! Was being a famous streamer tied to having superhuman eyesight? I’d have to ask Sanghyeon later.

“Questions? Make ‘em stand out. I’ll pass along anything decent, even without donations,” Bonfire continued.

As I mulled this over, Bonfire kept the conversation flowing. I spun my chair to face him, glancing at Seokyoon and Homin. Seokyoon was staring at Bonfire, ignoring me entirely, while Homin was busy setting up what looked like camera equipment, passing the time. When our eyes met, Homin flashed a reassuring smile and waved lightly, as if saying, Don’t worry. Maybe he’d anticipated this situation halfway through.

“So, I’ve picked out a few questions. Nuna, you okay with this?” Bonfire asked.

“Huh? Oh, yes!” I replied, my voice cracking like I’d hit a bad high note in a song.

My face flushed. Bonfire, catching something amusing, stifled a laugh. The chat was probably reacting similarly.

“S-Sorry, I was distracted,” I said.

“No, it’s our fault for chattering away. Thanks for the treat, Nuna. Everyone, say thank you!” he teased.

Treat? Did that word carry that kind of connotation? My burning face cooled as the thought hit me. So it wasn’t just a term from Sanghyeon’s streams.

“Anyway, you’re a bit of a mysterious figure, right? Lots of people are curious about you. I’ve picked some safe questions—mind answering a few before makeup resumes?” Bonfire asked.

“Haha… sure, we’ve got some time,” I said.

I let out an awkward laugh to hide my embarrassment. The voice crack still bothered me. How dumb did I look, zoning out like that? Getting distracted during a stream was rude, wasn’t it? The thoughts piled up, making it hard to regain composure.

“So, first question! Are you bare-faced right now?” Bonfire asked.

“…What?” I replied.

“Is your current state, with just base makeup, basically your natural face?!” he clarified.

You saw what I was doing earlier—why ask now? I tilted my head, and his hand, holding the phone, twitched as if following me. Did he switch to front-facing camera?

“I’ve only got primer on, so… yeah?” I answered hesitantly.

I didn’t know the intent behind the question, but I responded anyway. Hyunji’s voice echoed faintly, explaining how primer was essential for lasting makeup and skin prep.

“See?! I told you! The makeup artist said her skin’s so good she could probably skip everything, but they’re doing it anyway! She went out for a bit, saying that. Her skin’s just that good, and her face is just that pretty!” Bonfire exclaimed.

Oh, so there was a debate about that while I was zoned out. The embarrassing praise made me want to scratch my cheek, but I cautiously lowered my hand. No makeup was fully applied yet, but touching my face felt risky.

But Bonfire-nim, asking me directly doesn’t exactly make it credible, does it?

“Don’t believe me? Fine. Justice prevails, that’s all you need to know. Next question—this one I’m curious about too,” he said.

If Bonfire was curious, it piqued my interest too. I didn’t hide my slightly widened eyes, nodding instead of speaking. I’d answered plenty of casual questions before—like, Favorite food? Mom’s home cooking.

“There’s a lot of talk that you need a proper alias, not just ‘Cheungjeokun’s sister.’ But that’s not really a question, is it? How about… do you have an alias in mind?” he asked.

“An… alias?” I echoed.

“Even if you’re not streaming yourself, you’re on Cheungjeokun’s streams a lot. Don’t you think ‘Cheungjeokun’s sister’ is a bit awkward?” he elaborated.

The question caught me off guard—I’d never thought about it. An alias for me? He was right; I couldn’t stay “Cheungjeokun’s sister” forever.

I felt Bonfire’s gaze, the camera lens almost burning. The unexpected question left me speechless. He fell silent, waiting for my response. With the chat invisible and the other two in the room quiet, an odd stillness filled the lounge.

The phone inched closer. Bonfire’s expectant eyes, the viewers’ anticipation—my brain raced, urging me to say something.

“…I’ve never thought about it,” I admitted.

The answer, even to me, felt utterly pathetic.