Chapter 7: Watch the broadcast as a broadcast

Woke up as usual. Felt oddly refreshed, checked my phone while lying down—not morning.

Picked it up: 11:38. Sat up, noon sunlight hit my face.

Morning mission failed. No big deal, no plans anyway.

Opened the fridge—empty, ate all the side dishes.

“Ugh, nothing to eat…”

Even the eggs I bought were gone. Need to stock up on my day off.

But first, lunch.

“No choice, convenience store it is…”

Hair’s a mess, mind’s foggy, but gotta fill my stomach.

If I don’t eat, yesterday’s memories won’t leave my head.

“Collab tomorrow, us.”

Her voice echoed, filling my brain. Shook my head hard, grabbed a hoodie and cap, and stepped out.

Descending the stairs, I opened Watch on my phone. What could’ve changed overnight? Not what I was checking for.

Highlight clips, sorted by views. The clip from yesterday’s stream still reigned at number one, flaunting itself.

Views and likes had spiked overnight.

“Probably a gaming history first. Who catches a hacker like that?”

Hackers are natural disasters. Stopping one with human effort makes prime YouTube material.

Most hacker takedown videos feature pros like Kills-nim or Red-nim flexing godlike skills. My case? Pure chaos, probably why it’s blowing up.

“Should bring in some new viewers, right? What to do to keep them…”

Lost in thought, I reached the convenience store, grabbed a triangle kimbap and cup ramen.

“Checkout.”
“Yup~”

[“Sia-nim, got a potato?”]

As I approached the counter, the clerk’s phone was playing that clip.

Is this a Truman Show? Since I’m a no-cam streamer, the clerk didn’t notice me, just scanned my items.

“Total’s 2,700 won.”
“Hold on.”

Maybe it’s ‘cause I saw my old self—juggling part-time jobs while streaming—in the clerk, or maybe it felt like meeting a fan.

Could be both. Went back to the fridge, grabbed a 1+1 drink deal.

“Scan these too.”
“Total’s 4,000 won.”

Paid with my phone, left one drink on the counter.

“Work’s tough, have this.”

Turned to leave, but a voice stopped me.

“Uh, I have a boyfriend…”

Huh, not what I meant. Already grabbing the door, I didn’t turn back.

“Just reminded me of my old self.”

Looks like a college kid. Keep at it.

Left those words, opened the door, and walked out. Come to think of it, what did I do in college?

Blew part-time job money on drinks, ran out, worked again, blew it again.

Slacked on studies, grades were meh, nothing stellar.

“Would I be a jobless bum without streaming?”

Well, I stream hard. Time for a… not a drink, but one of these cans.

“Oh, the legendary potato guy.”
“Wow! Hazy-nim, I’ve been a fan since my first chicken!”
“So, what game we playing today?”

I’m losing it. Or already lost it. Let’s retrace how this happened to stay sane.

After lunch, browsing YouTube, I got a Discord ping from Sia-nim.

[Lucia]: Got a sec? Need to discuss today’s collab.

Clicked into the same voice chat as yesterday. And now, here I am.

“Was that really your first FPS?”
“When’s that game going up on YouTube?”
“We did that mafia-like game—Begin or Fogin—last time, so let’s make it part two. What for part one?”
“Yo, he already played that last time.”

I’m going insane. The relentless sound barrage had me on the edge when someone took control.

“Yo! Why’s it so loud?! Everyone shut up!”
“Nah.”
“No way.”
“Don’t wanna…”
“Third one to speak gets three strikes and a beating, got it?”

A gritted-teeth threat—talk again and you’re done—silenced the speakers.

Except for me.

“Hic!”

Awkward silence swirled. Voice chat shows who’s speaking, so I’m caught red-handed.

Why hiccups now?

“S-Sorry!”

Mortified. Apologizing with hiccups making it worse?

“Pfft!”

“Ugh… this is nuts.”

“Why you killing Hazy-nim’s vibe?! Scared him!”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that…”

Sorry…

The earlier commanding voice shrank into a sheepish apology directed at me.

Hiccups wouldn’t stop, so I couldn’t speak. Sia-nim jumped in.

“Uh, forgot to mention yesterday. This collab’s with my friends too…”
“Hic!”
“Pfft, called them to say hi early. Meant to tell you.”

Clutching my sanity, I checked the voice chat participants.

“You watch my YouTube, so you probably know them.”

Yuki-nim, Naguri-nim, Saengsam-nim, Radachi-nim, Nunbomap-nim, Yura-nim, and Sia-nim.

Even non-streamers watching internet content would know these names.

“All familiar names, huh.”

My quip sparked laughter from different voices over the speakers.

Worried it was too bold for a first meeting, but their stream and YouTube vibes suggested they’d like it. Good reaction, thankfully.

“Wow, pulling that here?”
“His stream sense is on point, why aren’t we live?”
“Do it like this later, okay? It’s hilarious.”

I’m the type who chokes if you hype me up…

Couldn’t say that to these superstars, so I swallowed the words.

This is worse than a bed of nails.

“I said it’s fun.”
“Can’t trust your ‘fun.’”
“Yeah, you laugh at the smallest stuff.”

Seems Sia-nim briefed them about me before I joined. Probably why my first impression’s decent.

After quick intros, we got to the point.

“Alright, main topic. We settled on Fogin for part two, right?”
“I didn’t hear that.”
“‘Cause you were yapping. Anyway, part one’s still open. Hazy-nim, got anything you wanna do?”

Maybe it’s my imagination, but a memory hit me.

Back as a college freshman, before orientation, I went campus exploring with a friend and met an older guy and his buddy.

“Saying ‘anything’s fine’ is what seniors say when buying for juniors. Pick the priciest, it’s cool.”

Me and my friend couldn’t choose—decision paralysis. The older guy’s friend, fed up, ordered four lunch course meals.

Those were tasty… Wait, not the point. Why this memory?

Instinct screamed that saying “anything’s fine” here would be trouble.

“Not gonna say ‘anything’s fine,’ are you?”
“Nope! Nope. Ever heard of CarRider?”
“Oh! That one that shut down and relaunched!”
“Nice idea, sounds good.”
“Who here’s played CarRider?”

Saengsam-nim and Naguri-nim replied to Sia-nim. Now that I think, Saengsam-nim competed in an amateur CarRider tourney way back.

Got knocked out in the quarterfinals, though.

“Naguri’s better than me.”
“Says the guy prepping for pro.”
“Got to quarters, hit a wall, gave up pro. You’re in a classic guild.”
“Back then, their tests were easy. You could join now if you tried.”
“Whatever, let’s team up later.”

The convo snowballed. They debated restrictions since both are skilled, veered off-topic, and kept going.

First time in a collab, I wondered if others prep like this, so I asked mid-chat.

“Do you always meet up to plan streams like this?”
“Huh? Nah.”
“We don’t do that.”
“Usually, we just meet and go, ‘What we doing today?’”
“So this is for me?”
“Yup.”
“Normally, we don’t plan solo streams either. Same for collabs.”

Oh.

I’m not the only unplanned one.