I Want to Be a VTuber

"Are you seriously out of your mind?"

Park Jungwoo, utterly disheveled, sat in a café with a sigh. Seoyeon, who had effectively "kidnapped" him, had taken him along in her van to a secluded café located a bit out of the way.

With her thorough preparations, she had even provided sunglasses and a mask to cover Jungwoo’s face. Though it turned out they weren’t necessary, as the café was empty.

"So this is what it feels like to be kidnapped," he thought to himself.

Jungwoo had seen those kidnapping scenes in movies before, where someone gets whisked away into a van. He’d wondered if it could really be that easy, and after going through it, he figured it just might be.

"You're the one who didn’t respond to my messages first," Seoyeon said in a flat tone.

With her hair tied in a high ponytail and sunglasses on, she looked different from her usual self. There was a more energetic impression to her—perhaps because her eyes were hidden.

"Messages? You mean those?"

In the first place, Jungwoo and Seoyeon didn’t keep in touch that much. Well, it’s not like they didn’t communicate at all.

It was more like they didn’t send each other "proper messages." Seoyeon's idea of messaging Jungwoo usually went something like this:

A few days ago.

Three days ago.

Yesterday.

And today.

At first, he thought it was some kind of code. Now, though, he understood well enough.

He’d seen the phrase "quick match?" so many times that it was impossible not to know what she meant. And originally, Jungwoo wasn’t even the type to play those PC games. He only started because of Seoyeon.

"Yeah, she’s definitely saying she wants to play with me," Jungwoo thought.

He knew why Seoyeon always called him up to play—it was because out of everyone around her, he was the only one worse at gaming than she was.

Lee Jiyeon was way better than Seoyeon, and Jo Seohui, well, she seemed to have tested the waters a bit.

"Hahaha! I made it to Platinum rank this time! Isn’t that amazing? Incredible, right?"

Seohui seemed to have gotten into live streaming as a Virtual YouTuber lately, turning on her stream more frequently on her days off. Jungwoo had only started watching because she kept nagging him to. It wasn’t as if he was a devoted viewer, though; it was more that she wanted him to see if she was doing things right.

"Why the cat ears, though?"

Her avatar was "Alice," a virtual YouTuber. The name likely came from Alice in Wonderland, and the cat ears were probably inspired by the Cheshire Cat. The aristocratic "villainess" look matched surprisingly well, which was kind of funny.

Even though she hadn’t been streaming games for long, she was improving at an alarming rate. While Jungwoo wasn’t a game expert, he could tell from the reactions in the chat.

The most amusing part?

The person who sent a Super Chat message saying, "This is unreal," was none other than Ju Seoyeon, sitting right in front of him. Thanks to Lee Jiyeon, who’d shared Seoyeon’s nickname—or was it her ID?—he was vaguely aware of her online presence.

As for Seoyeon, she seemed to feel a sense of unease (fear?) about how quickly Seohui had surpassed her. Consequently, Jungwoo often ended up being summoned as her gaming partner.

"She just can't handle anyone better than her," he thought.

"It’s not surprising that I ignore you when you keep asking to play every day."

At his comment, Seoyeon narrowed her gaze. Jungwoo gulped nervously and took a sip of his green tea.

"Wow, that’s one intense look," he thought. No wonder she always plays the villain.

Thinking back, Seohui and Jiyeon also had a distinct presence when walking with Seoyeon. He had once seen the three of them together, and the students around them seemed to keep their distance. Normally, if people recognize actors, they try to get closer, don’t they?

But everyone stayed at a distance, snapping photos from afar without daring to approach.

Of course, Seoyeon’s gaze was just a slightly pouty look. It was hard to believe that this was the same person from that recent short video—the one where she appeared as a magical girl. She’d been so cute that even Jungwoo had to blink and check if it was really her.

He’d like to tease her about it, but he knew it wouldn’t end with just a glare if he did. He’d probably get the same finger poke that Seohui always suffered. Sometimes she even elbowed him, maybe because he was a guy and she assumed he could take it.

The last time he got hit without thinking, he’d nearly blacked out.

"Gaming is socializing, you know."

"Then why don’t you play Summoner's Rift?"

"I’m tired of it."

As if. It was probably because she couldn’t rank up that she kept sticking to quick matches. Jungwoo chose not to argue, especially since Seoyeon had a fork in her hand today.

"But I’m serious, you know?"

"About what?"

"...It’s because of the movie."

What? How did a quick match relate to a drama? Jungwoo blinked at her in confusion, and Seoyeon’s grip tightened on her fork. Was she going to bend it?

Curious, he watched her, but then she lowered the fork.

"I can’t exactly keep texting you, asking if you’re still going to take the role in that movie."

"Oh, that."

Now that she mentioned it, he recalled that she did bring it up occasionally in the middle of gaming. He just hadn’t thought much about it since he was focused on the game.

“So it really was socializing,” he thought, impressed by her subtlety.

"You're talking about Director Cho Bangwoo’s film, right? I heard it’s a disaster movie."

"That's right."

Jungwoo felt a bit puzzled by her knowledge. While he had heard about it from Cho Bangwoo’s son, Jo Mintae, it was surprising that Seoyeon knew. Although she’d once been in The Sun’s Hidden Moon, she didn’t really keep in touch with Mintae now.

"Isn’t it called Seoul Escape?"

"They haven’t decided on the title yet."

"...It’s just something I thought up. Doesn’t it sound plausible?"

"It does sound good."

Seoyeon glanced away, her expression showing she was slightly embarrassed—usually a sign she’d done something mischievous.

"A disaster movie, huh?"

Jungwoo thought about Cho Bangwoo’s upcoming film. If asked whether he’d take the role, he’d certainly say yes. After all, he’d promised Seoyeon.

He hadn’t put much thought into her hints during their games, mostly because he’d already decided he was interested.

"The auditions are at the end of the year. You’re really going, right?"

"Yeah. They haven’t even sent me the script yet."

"I’m sure it’ll come soon."

Her tone was oddly confident. Sensing his questioning look, Seoyeon held her tongue. She didn’t want to repeat her slip-ups.

"Originally, Jungwoo didn’t take the role in Seoul Escape, did he?"

Of course, this wasn’t something that had happened in this life—it was a memory from her previous life.

In that life, Jungwoo had rejected the role in Seoul Escape. Director Cho Bangwoo had been struggling to find a lead actor, resorting to pulling connections, even those of his son, to fill the role. It must have been humiliating for the director.

"Of course, actors eventually joined after the funding came in," she thought.

However, they weren’t exactly the "real deal." Cho Bangwoo had carefully selected one actor as the lead, but it ended in disaster.

"Kang Daehwan, was it?"

In her previous life, he had played the lead in Seoul Escape. Though he was considered a good actor, his performance had been lacking, and to make matters worse, he got embroiled in a scandal that tarnished the film’s image. It ended up flopping, marking the end of Cho Bangwoo’s career.

"Come to think of it, Jungwoo had quite the reputation in that life too."

It wasn’t all negative, but rumors about his arrogance often made headlines. Oddly, now there was none of that.

"Is it because of me?"

Even if she thought so, it felt strange. How could she have changed Jungwoo? Well, for now, he was a reliable gaming buddy.

"Honestly, the problem isn’t me, it’s you."

It seemed Seoyeon really wanted confirmation that he’d take the role this time. Jungwoo had already decided to accept, though. Despite her sometimes ridiculous antics, he genuinely wanted to act alongside her again—just like when they’d shot The Sun’s Hidden Moon.

This time, Seoul Escape felt like a chance to show Seoyeon his growth as an actor.

"But you already have two projects, right?"

There were Demon and Gyeongseong Lady, both significant roles. Given Seoyeon’s driven nature, he doubted she’d slow down.

"Even as a villain in both?"

"One’s a lead role."

"Oh? You’re the lead in Gyeongseong Lady?"

"No, in Demon."

"Is that so?"

Jungwoo recalled Hyper Action Star. His only memory was of her beating up a Japanese actor and roaring like a supercar.

"That audition was to cast the lead."

Seoyeon replied, pressing her fork into her plate as she looked at him. For a moment, Jungwoo wondered if she’d stab through the plate.

“Sometimes, you look at me like I’m some strange animal,” she said, quirking an eyebrow.

“...Ahem.”

Jungwoo averted his eyes. But the more eccentric Seoyeon’s antics became, the more curious he got. She had once punctured a coconut with her finger; he wondered what she could pierce if she really tried.

Of course, he didn’t dare ask, fearing for his own safety.

"Anyway, two villain roles? I suppose that means you won’t overlap your image too much."

"Exactly. Overexposure can speed up image fatigue."

That was why some actors carefully selected their projects each year. Others, meanwhile, tried to shoot as many films as possible.

"For leads, that’s even faster."

Seoyeon’s image was unique, mostly as a villain, but somehow she’d managed to balance it.

For now, her image as a magical girl was also strongly imprinted among younger viewers. The short video had left a powerful impression.

Image in the entertainment world can change quickly, sometimes even from a single scene, as with one actress whose cute behavior in a military variety show had once gone viral.

Seoyeon’s magical girl role had a similar effect. If it had been broadcast, the impact would have been even stronger.

"Anyway, you’re going to take it, right?"

"I said I would."

"Then just answer that sooner."

"Instead of dragging me into games, just ask like a normal person."

Jungwoo sighed, then turned serious.

"And to be clear, the problem isn’t me. It’s you."

Jungwoo’s tone was earnest. After all, he knew about the trouble brewing around her current project, Gyeongseong Lady.

"I heard some major actors dropped out. That’ll be a big issue if scheduling doesn’t work out."

"It’s fine."

Seoyeon glanced at her phone, just as she received a message related to what Jungwoo mentioned.

"Actually, things are going well," she said with a mischievous smile.

Jungwoo looked at her, puzzled, until her smile sent a chill down his spine.

"I heard they’re looking for someone to play the role of Goto Isamu."

"Hmm, that's a significant role. They can’t just cast anyone for it."

The production team of Gyeongseong Lady wore troubled expressions. Recently, several actors who had initially agreed to join the project had pulled out due to various issues.

Having only signed contracts and subsequently breaking them while paying penalty fees, there wasn’t much the production team could do. Situations like these weren’t uncommon.

The only difference here was the sheer number of actors who had withdrawn.

"From what I heard, Director Shin Hocheol is pouring all his efforts into his new movie."

"Oh, that one? Don’t tell me they’re jumping ship to work on that?"

"Who knows? But one thing’s certain—they’ve got a much bigger budget than we do."

They had managed to secure funding for Gyeongseong Lady thanks to Director Baek Min’s reputation. But since the backing wasn’t from a major investor, their funds were limited.

‘No wonder they paid the penalty fees so easily,’ they thought. ‘At least it was before filming, so the costs weren’t too high.’

The character Goto Isamu, after all, was the primary villain of the story. Only someone with considerable acting prowess could truly bring out the character’s essence. The actor initially cast for the role, Kang Seohyeok, had seemed perfect for it, which made his departure all the more impactful.

"Do we have anyone who can replace Kang Seohyeok?"

"Honestly, I’m not sure. There are some candidates, but I don’t know if they’ll accept the script."

"Well, there are quite a few veteran actors who avoid Director Baek Min’s projects."

From the veterans' perspective, Director Baek Min’s work often carried unique perspectives or values that didn’t align with their own. This time, Gyeongseong Lady was no exception, as it dealt with same-sex relationships.

"Seoyeon."

At that moment, Director Baek Min entered, greeting Seoyeon. Her sudden appearance at the audition venue surprised the production team.

‘Why is Ju Seoyeon here?’

‘Isn’t today the casting call for the role of Goto Isamu?’

The team had been prepared to hire someone simply on the basis of their suitability for the role. They hadn’t expected Ju Seoyeon to show up so unexpectedly.

All eyes turned to Seoyeon with a mix of curiosity and confusion.

"He should be here any moment now."

Seoyeon smiled at the gathered production members. At long last, the film’s secret weapon was about to make his appearance.