Chapter 7: Mirrors Don’t Lie, Do They?
Swish—Swish—
Good morning.
Despite staying up all night, I’m somehow not tired at all, mopping the floor with a wet cloth.
I cleaned all day yesterday, so there’s not much left to tidy, but with no proper clothes to wear, there’s little else I can do.
So here I am, taking it out on the poor floor.
Well, a clean floor’s a good thing, right?
Oh, right—I spent a little over 100,000 won on clothes.
Women’s clothing feels pricier than men’s, but what can I do?
I can’t exactly walk around in boys’ clothes to save a few bucks.
A mid-20s guy in cartoon-patterned kids’ clothes?
Others might manage, but I’d lose it.
“But this means more expenses are coming.”
Haha, starting a stream means preparing for it, and preparation means spending money.
Good lord, so many expenses at the end of the month.
Brings back old memories, doesn’t it?
Great stuff!
“Sigh…”
Should I dip into my savings?
I won’t dive in blindly, of course, but if things get desperate, I might have to tap into those precious savings.
No, no way.
I haven’t even checked prices yet, and I’m already thinking about breaking my savings?
I’m losing it.
Get it together.
My wallet can still handle this.
…Probably.
I’ll keep it short.
I failed—failed, failed, failed, failed, failed.
I couldn’t hold out.
My bank balance is now 1,028,000 won.
Before the “preparing for shipment” status popped up, I’m sure I had over 5 million.
But not anymore.
I only realized this when I ordered the last part for my streaming PC.
Idiot, idiot.
Streaming?
A drinking stream?
What kind of moron burns through millions in a flash for that and expects to stream successfully?
My plan went off the rails.
I got distracted by shiny new parts and lost sight of reality.
This is the result.
No denying it—this is reality.
Burning over 4 million on a streaming PC and webcam is reality.
Why didn’t I notice?
Because my phone was on silent!
I didn’t even know how much I was spending…
No, the phone’s not to blame.
It’s me—me—who set it to silent to avoid distractions while working.
I should’ve turned notifications on.
I shouldn’t have thrown high-end specs into my cart, thinking I had to go all out.
At this rate, after my monthly savings, I won’t even have enough for next month’s rent.
“…”
Fine, the money’s gone, and it’s not coming back.
What’s lost can be regained, and what’s spent can be earned again.
There’s still a chance.
It’s not over.
If I can succeed at streaming…
No, not if.
I have to succeed.
Don’t think in possibilities—face reality.
No matter what, I must succeed at streaming.
I can’t just rely on my looks.
It’s not even a full face reveal—just a half-cam, drinking and chatting.
Will that really work?
Either go all-in on my face or…
“I need solid content.”
Something eye-catching but not against platform guidelines.
What’s attention-grabbing within the “alcohol” category?
Leaning back in my chair, I closed my eyes.
Talking about alcohol?
I know next to nothing about it.
Touching that could get me buried in hate.
Sure, it’d work for noise marketing, but without a good image early on, I’d be in for a headache later.
I’m not aiming for a stellar image.
I don’t expect people to hear my name and think, “Oh, that alcohol expert?”
Not even a bit.
Just “Oh, that drinking streamer?” would be more than enough.
“Something that avoids hate, builds a decent image, and grabs attention—”
Let’s dig deeper.
Leaning forward, practically smashing my face into the monitor, I scoured for alcohol-related streams.
Not just streams—I checked YouTube videos, blog posts, everything, hunting for the category that pairs best with alcohol.
Click, click, click
[“The drink we’re trying today is—”]
[“Goddammit! Why’s the orbit breaking there?!”]
[“Hehe, I’m an adult now!”]
[“Something on your mind!! Yeeaah!!”]
[“Gorgeous, right?? Humanoid boss, this sht—”]
[“Aaaah!!! Aaaah!!”]
[“Waaah! Why’re you doing this to meee!!”]
Normal gaming streams, unhinged streams with everyone from streamer to viewers losing it, interactive streams, non-interactive streams, streams where the host cries in frustration, streams yelling outside and annoying people, art streams, drinking streams, brewing streams—
Ding-dong—
“Huh?”
A doorbell, not a streamer’s voice, donation alert, background music, or game sound, snapped me out of it.
My eyes flicked open.
The clock in the bottom right of the screen read 10:00 AM.
Who’s here at this hour?
Slide
I got up from my chair and headed to the door.
Dragging my slippers, I opened it and saw a dark blue vest and a neatly packed box.
Looking up, I saw a man in a worn-out cap.
“Oh. No, I mean, we’re… uh, delivery.”
The realization I’d ordered something hit me as a lie slipped out of my mouth.
“Oh, got it. Can you sign here, please?”
“Sure.”
I never thought I’d call myself “oppa.”
That’s probably why I feel so gross.
Shaking off the pointless thoughts, I scribbled “Seojumin” on the delivery guy’s device and handed it back.
It’s the name of the heroine from my first novel, which flopped due to poor performance.
“Have a good day.”
“You too.”
The delivery guy took the signature and headed to the elevator.
I brought the stack of packages by the door inside—clothes, underwear, computer parts.
All in just a few hours…
“A few hours?”
Stopping mid-unpack, I rushed to the computer to check the date.
October 24th.
Six days—not six hours—since the 19th.
What’s wrong with my sense of time?
How did I not notice six days passing?
Most people lose it after one sleepless night.
But I stayed up six times that, and my body feels fine—my head clear, like six days awake is nothing.
Have I given up on being human?
How am I fine after six sleepless days?
The questions piled up, sparking a headache that grew worse, as if my brain didn’t want me to keep thinking.
If I keep going, my brain might melt.
Sighing, I decided to stop.
“First, I need to wash.”
Pressing my throbbing temples, I got up from the chair.
I tossed off the T-shirt covering me and headed to the bathroom.
Like always, I turned on the water and sat on the toilet, waiting for it to warm up.
Sitting there blankly, steam from the warm water soon filled the bathroom.
Taking a deep breath, the humid air filled my lungs.
I stepped under the shower, letting the warm water soak my body.
Squeezing shampoo into my hand, I washed my hair.
Scrub, scrub—my hair felt surprisingly fine for not washing in six days.
My body, too, was smooth, not sticky at all.
No grime, no discomfort—it hardly felt like six days had passed.
Because of that, the shower was over quickly.
“Phew…”
Stepping out of the shower, I swept my bangs back with both hands, wringing out the water.
Warm water trickled down my back.
Man, a shower feels so refreshing.
Habitually touching my chin, I wiped the steam off the mirror.
“—?”
In the mirror stood a girl who looked exactly like me.
It’s normal for a mirror to show your reflection, but something was off.
On her forehead—my forehead—were a pair of horns I didn’t have.
[“Heh heh—”]
For a moment, the girl’s eyes curved into a smile.
Startled, I stepped back, blinking rapidly.
When I opened my eyes, the mirror showed only me, eyes wide like a rabbit’s.
“…Sleep.”
I need to sleep.
I’m seeing things…