Chapter 65: Promising (5)

Part 9

It had been a while since Bonfire, unable to continue with the microphone on due to overlapping voices, switched to chat-only streaming and left with Seokyoon to another room. As I finished my makeup and had my hair styled, a voice quietly announced, “The shoot’s starting soon.” It took me a beat to realize it was Homin’s.

“The hairstyle—you seem to like it?” Hyunji asked.

“…Professionals really are something else,” I replied.

“Pfft, professional? It’s all about taste,” she said.

A braided crown crossed the top of my head, with the back hair rolled into a donut-like bun. The long strands that once reached my shoulder blades now looked, from the front, like a short bob akin to the Traveler’s. The loops swayed with my head’s movements, catching my eye.

“Should we stick with this?” Hyunji asked.

“Everything… looks good,” I said.

My words weren’t flattery but genuine. Whether it was the round bun at the back or the braided loops, none felt out of place. Is this the touch of a pro? Maybe I’d ask her to teach me hair styling along with makeup later.

“It’s a bit different from the original, but… elegant vibes don’t suit you as much as cute ones, so let’s go with this,” she decided.

The final style featured two looped buns at the back, like halved pretzels. At first, I thought it looked odd, but the swaying loops blended with the vibe, as Hyunji said. It’s not just about the cosplay—it’s about suiting the person.

“Homin! We’re done here—what’s the studio like?” Hyunji called.

“All set. Honestly, it’s mostly recycled from last time,” Homin replied.

“Hey, this might be our last chance to work with Yoonseo-ssi—don’t be so half-hearted!” she scolded.

Right after finishing my hair, Hyunji’s chiding voice rang out as Homin popped in and out of the lounge. Their playful bickering didn’t seem to bother either of them—probably a sign of how comfortable they were with each other. Watching them in the large mirror, I let out a soft chuckle. Must be fun working at Flying Rabbit.

“It suits you?” I asked.

“Huh?” Homin said.

“The outfit, makeup, hair—does it look good to a pro?” I teased.

Caught up in the mood, my playful tone surprised even me. Hyunji, who’d been jabbing Homin’s side with a half-smile, froze. The memory of the fitting room incident flashed through my mind. Oops. I considered clarifying it was a joke, but before I could—

“It suits you. No need to worry,” Homin said.

His unexpected reply came not from Hyunji but him. My wide eyes followed his reflection, catching his warm smile. Despite his comical posture—clutching his side, half-bent from Hyunji’s jabs—his expression was genuine. The imbalance left me unsure how to respond.

“Seriously, it suits you. I’ve shot countless cosplays, and you’re among the best,” he added.

Hyunji, wearing a stunned expression like mine, stared at him. A brief silence followed, then I burst into laughter again. I’ve been called a big laugher, but since becoming this body, I’m even more prone to it.

“Thanks. That’s reassuring,” I said.

“No problem,” Homin replied.

His warm smile lingered. Fan-driven kindness? I couldn’t read his intentions, but I liked his smile. It felt like genuine goodwill—not based on appearances but person-to-person. Somehow, that resonated.

“Sexual harassment, you jerk!” Hyunji shouted.

“What?!” Homin protested.

“The shoot’s starting—get ready! Yoonseo-ssi, come out too!” she ordered.

Hyunji’s scolding continued as she grabbed Homin, who groaned and staggered out of the lounge. Smiling blankly, I slowly stood. Time to go.

“Doing things like me. Acting like me. Wearing what suits me… yeah,” I murmured.

I glanced at the mirror one last time. The two golden loops swayed cutely.

Part 10

“I’ll take a quick break and be back,” Bonfire said.

• Stream ending????
• No way lol, the main event hasn’t even started!

Kwon Hyuk knew what the chat meant by “main event.” I’m dying to see it too, thanks to you all. Swallowing his words, he flashed a grin and hit the stream’s end button.

“It’s different watching in person, huh?” Seokyoon said.

“Yeah. I didn’t realize how much goes into streaming. It’s a lot,” Kwon Hyuk replied.

How long had it been since they’d moved to an empty room to continue the stream, mic off, via chat? The studio was probably in full swing with the shoot. Should’ve just watched with the mic off. After half-heartedly managing, he’d ended the stream to “rest for the next schedule.”

His gaze fell on Seokyoon, who’d followed him, claiming to be a fan. He seemed cynical at first. Recalling their first meeting, Kwon Hyuk let out a dry laugh.

Despite his initial cold impression, Seokyoon’s silent awe—expressed through gestures and expressions—had shifted Kwon Hyuk’s view to “a complex guy.” The way he subtly revealed Yoonseo’s past, his initial aloofness, and now his almost childlike fanboy reactions—all felt too multidimensional for one person.

Too layered for one guy. Staring at Seokyoon, whose thoughts remained unreadable, Kwon Hyuk mulled over these impressions.

“No? Not at all. Still a huge fan,” Seokyoon said.

“Haha… glad to hear that,” Kwon Hyuk replied.

Guilt, which he thought he’d grown numb to, crept up. He’d believed he was immune to both praise and criticism from fans, but facing Seokyoon’s near-admiring gaze up close stirred something. Am I growing a conscience?

I could’ve been more entertaining, shown a better side. At least his usual focused streaming self. Regret lingered. I can’t even focus on my own stream—how does this guy stay so invested?

“…Seokyoon-ssi,” Kwon Hyuk started.

“Yeah?” he replied.

“…This might sound rude, but…”

Simple curiosity. Maybe because he figured they wouldn’t cross paths much after today, he voiced the question. Feeling a twinge of unease, he spoke carefully. Worst way to treat a fan—treating him like a passing acquaintance.

“Seeing Yoonseo-ssi, don’t you ever feel… anything? As her friend?” he asked.

Imagining Yoonseo mid-shoot, Kwon Hyuk spoke. It wasn’t romantic, he was sure. Yet, her charm—beyond her looks, something in her aura—kept drawing attention. Could someone who’d known her so long, as a friend, really feel nothing?

Seokyoon’s blank stare widened briefly.

A heavy silence settled, chilling the room.