Chapter 67: Promising (7)

Part 13

Time flew by in a blink. While striking poses as directed, I’d try to glance at Hyunji and Homin chatting, only to hear Homin snap, “Don’t move!” from behind the camera. Or Hyunji would request bizarre poses, saying, “You’re surprisingly flexible!”

“All done!” Homin called.

“Phew…” I exhaled.

The blasting AC kept sweat at bay, but the physical toll was undeniable. Holding poses for ten seconds or several minutes was exhausting. I’d once thought, Just standing still? watching yoga videos, but now I understood why it was tough.

Hyunji’s hands kneaded my shoulders, and I could only groan, too drained to respond. Collapsing into a folding chair, my thighs, back, and arms—muscles I rarely used—ached sharply.

“Wow… no edits needed. Just add lighting effects, and it’s good to go,” Homin said, grinning as he approached, camera in hand.

“Told you it’d be a hit!” Hyunji chimed in.

I hadn’t dared hope the photos would be good enough for promotion, so their praise felt surreal. Can I just be happy? A small doubt peeked in, but I brushed it off with a slight smile. Be happy. Someone says you look great—why not enjoy it?

“Ugh… can I see the photos later?” I asked.

“Of course! I’ll pick a few good ones and send them. If you want, I can print and frame them,” Homin replied.

His voice, brighter than usual, made my trembling lips curl into a shaky smile.

“Argh?! Hyunji-ssi, that hurts!” I yelped.

“Oops, sorry. But it’s gotta hurt a bit to avoid soreness tomorrow,” she said.

“Even so—oww?!” I cried.

My shrieks echoed as Hyunji’s massage intensified. Homin chuckled, but I was too pained to retort. It’s like my muscles are being crushed…

“Homin, you worked hard too. Let’s rest five minutes, then wrap up,” Hyunji said.

“Before that—let go… ugh!” I groaned.

“Nope. Trust the expert. You won’t get out of bed tomorrow otherwise,” she insisted.

That’d be bad, but isn’t this worse?! Her relentless kneading left me gasping—ugh, eek, ow—as my shoulders screamed. I might lose my voice at this rate.

Part 14

“Here we go—how many times is this now? Still early compared to my usual streams. Shocking,” Bonfire said.

“How late do you usually start?” I asked.

Seokyoon, who’d shown up at the studio post-shoot, had muttered something cryptic about “fulfilling a wish” and vanished after showing me a drawing with his nickname. What wish?

“Usually after evening,” Bonfire replied.

“Start early from now on,” I teased.

“Why?” he asked.

“To boost my brother’s viewership,” I said.

I figured Seokyoon would return soon, so I pushed him out of my mind. The setting had shifted back to the empty lounge. Bonfire looked exhausted, and when I asked if he was okay, he said he’d crash at home and be fine for tomorrow’s schedule.

“You seem different post-shoot,” he noted.

“Posing awkwardly for two hours to shutter clicks made me realize—cosplaying on stream isn’t that embarrassing,” I said.

“Hear that, folks? Jeokranun-nim’s unlocked cosplay content. Thank me now!” Bonfire announced.

“Why thank you?” I laughed.

This time, both his smartphone and laptop were on. His laptop lacked a front-facing camera, so the phone was propped up. The cluttered table—laptop, tablet for drawing, and phone—looked oddly pitiful. He could stream from home if it’s not far. Why insist on staying? Maybe he’s hiding some secret hobby at home.

“They can see Traveler-cosplay Ranun-Nuna because of me!” Bonfire teased.

“Pfft?!” I sputtered.

“Ha, I knew you’d crack. Gotta praise whoever predicted that,” he said.

The absurd nickname triggered a memory of that robotic donation voice from hours ago, making me laugh reflexively. Bonfire’s smug grin was infuriating. What if I’d spit?

“…Ugh, stop that,” I said.

“You laughed, so you don’t hate it,” he countered.

“I’m not trying to be funny,” I retorted.

“You’re lacking streamer basics,” he teased.

I fixed my expression, frowning to suppress lingering giggles, rubbing my cheeks with my fingertips. Streamer basics? I’m not aiming for big-time. Chatting like this is enough.

“Anyway, it’s time for the long-awaited Nuna drawing session! Let’s make something practical. Thoughts, everyone?” Bonfire said.

“Practical drawings?” I asked.

“Like donation images, subscriber badges, or emotes,” he explained.

I tilted my head, thinking. Sanghyeon’s stream had stuff like that… caricatured images of him…

“I usually avoid this stuff, but I kinda forced this setup, so… What? Cheungjeokun uses a plain black screen with text? Then let’s make a slick standby screen,” Bonfire said.

“Isn’t commissioning someone like you super expensive?” I asked.

“I charge a lot. My skills are average, but my name’s gotten big, so people pay,” he replied.

His chuckle made me hesitate to ask specifics—it sounded pricey. Was my face stiffening from the pressure? He didn’t mention it, but with a faint smile, he continued in a softer tone.

“Not like it’s payment for eye candy…” he said.

His shoulders shrugged, and his gaze met mine briefly. A fleeting, unreadable emotion—regret? Guilt?—flickered in his eyes. Why?

“Obviously,” I replied.

“Donations poured in today, so think of it like that. I’d say how much, but you’d get mad,” he laughed heartily.

The trace of that emotion vanished. What was it? No point dwelling—no answer would come. A fortunate connection, that’s enough for now.

“I want to see the chat,” I said.

“I don’t want to boost Bonfire-nim’s viewers,” I teased.

“Why not?!” he exclaimed.

“You’ve got more than my brother. I’m too jealous to help,” I quipped.

“Wow, my likability just plummeted for no reason. If I ask for a full-body shot, am I getting a spiral kick?” he joked.

We laughed lightly, the mood feeling like an extension of the shoot. Apparently, my coldest expression while pointing the prop sword got the most praise.