I Want to Be a VTuber

In her previous life, Seoyeon was someone who couldn't properly grasp her emotions—be it joy, sorrow, or any number of complex feelings.

Naturally, this lack extended to certain aspects of her emotional spectrum, including matters of a sexual nature.

"Th-this is supposed to be rated 15?"

Seoyeon was practically in a state of culture shock. She had always been profoundly ignorant when it came to anything sexual, even in her previous life.

No, it wasn't that she didn't know about it—she understood everything in theory. But she'd never had any personal exposure or experience.

Even when she did encounter something suggestive, it was just that—something to see, without eliciting any particular feelings. At first, she'd tried to show interest in sexual matters, like the men around her, but even that had failed miserably.

Afterward, she abandoned the idea entirely and lived without any interest in it, even after her rebirth.

“Gyeongseong Lady” doesn’t have scenes that intense, but still...

Seoyeon swallowed dryly as she finished watching a film filled with provocative imagery. Yet, instead of the movie’s plot, it was the script for Gyeongseong Lady that sprang to her mind.

At least her character, Kasugayama Yuina, had very few such moments. At most, there were one or two? And even those scenes weren’t particularly noteworthy.

Just some hand-holding or maybe brushing a shoulder—things like that.

“Wait...”

It was technically suitable for all ages, but depending on the performance, couldn’t those parts come across as more suggestive than intended? This thought struck Seoyeon as she continued watching the movie.

“I see now why Jo Seohee wanted me to watch this.”

The film unabashedly explored the feelings of love, making it impossible not to understand—even if you were an emotional novice like Seoyeon.

A faint blush crept onto her cheeks, and she felt an odd flutter in her chest. Her fingertips and toes fidgeted as if they couldn’t stay still.

Yet, despite the awkwardness, Seoyeon found herself completely engrossed. At some point, she became entirely absorbed in the film.

+++

“How was it?”

Jo Seohee glanced at Seoyeon as they exited the theater. Though she exuded confidence, her gaze betrayed a flicker of nervousness.

She’d made mistakes in the past, and no matter how great a film might be, personal taste was always subjective.

From what Seohee had observed, Seoyeon tended to favor action movies. This preference stood in ironic contrast to the emotional and sentimental dramas she often starred in.

"...”

Seoyeon said nothing as she tossed the remaining popcorn into the trash and walked quietly beside Seohee.

“Did she not like it?”

Seohee’s lips twitched nervously. She’d thought this movie would be perfect for helping Seoyeon improve her romance acting. When Seohee first saw it, she had cried into a handkerchief the whole time. Even during this second viewing, her eyes had glistened with tears.

The story of a woman helping her beloved end up with someone else—it was the epitome of bittersweet romance. What could be more fitting?

“Action movies don’t focus much on romantic emotions,” Seohee thought. “Not ideal for studying feelings.”

But if Seoyeon ended up finding the movie boring...

Seohee stole a glance at the posters for upcoming films. A Japanese animated movie was playing in the theater next door. Maybe she could suggest that instead—its aesthetic even resembled what Seoyeon had worn while in Japan.

Before she could voice her thoughts, Seoyeon spoke.

“It was good.”

“Huh?”

“The movie... It was good.”

Seoyeon’s voice was hesitant, almost as if admitting she enjoyed it was embarrassing.

“What the—? She’s adorable.”

Seohee thought to herself, caught off guard by Seoyeon’s rare display of vulnerability. Normally, Seoyeon was the picture of composure—a cool-headed beauty who barely let her expressions change. On variety shows, she could act like a playful puppy, but in everyday life, she remained reserved.

Now, though, her face revealed a complex mix of emotions.

“I just wish she’d stop being so formal with me.”

Still, the important thing was that Seoyeon had enjoyed the film. Seohee straightened up, her confidence returning.

“Of course! Did you think I’d recommend a bad movie?”

“But, honestly, there were parts I didn’t fully understand.”

Seoyeon wasn’t just being polite. She genuinely enjoyed the movie. In fact, she enjoyed most movies she watched—partly because she’d trained herself to find emotional depth in even the dullest films during her earlier acting days.

Now, though, what mattered was how her own emotions had grown and changed.

“I’ll have to watch it again later... Alone, of course. Not because of that one scene. Really.”

“I get why the male lead was loved, but I don’t understand why the protagonist made that choice,” Seoyeon began, diving into her thoughts on the film.

She started detailing the parts she found puzzling or enjoyable, her reflections both thorough and insightful.

Seohee felt her spirits lift. This was what made watching movies so much fun—discussing them afterward and sharing impressions.

“If the protagonist knew he wouldn’t be chosen, why did Siyoung act like that? It seemed so... desperate.”

Siyoung, one of the movie’s heroines, was a character in love with the protagonist. She confessed first in the story’s love triangle but was rejected because the protagonist loved someone else. 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

“Wouldn’t it be more sensible to move on after being rejected? Honestly, it felt a bit excessive.”

“You can’t say that in front of Yeohui-sunbae. Got it?” Seohee warned with a grin.

Reality was often stranger than fiction. In the movie, Siyoung had pined for the protagonist for four years—a long time by anyone’s standards.

“Yeohui-sunbae waited twenty years.”

If Yeohui had watched the film, she might have laughed at Siyoung’s mere four-year devotion, brushing it off as childish. But Seohee, for her part, thought twenty years was excessive—almost scary if she were on the receiving end.

“But it just shows how deeply she loved him. Kasugayama Yuina, the character you’re playing, isn’t so different,” Seohee pointed out.

“Yuina leaves, though. She moves on.”

“Her heart stays behind. Only her body leaves.”

Kasugayama Yuina was an antagonist—someone who stood in the way of the love between the protagonists, Yeon Sunye and Amanabi Michiko. She was also a rival, both in love and fate.

At the ending of Gyeongseong Lady, Yeon Sunye and Amanabi Michiko cross over to Japan and begin a new life together. Kasugayama Yuina, however, returns to the mainland, choosing not to join them.

Even when Yeon Sunye extended her hand in the final moments, Yuina did not take it.

"She has her pride, I suppose. She stepped aside because she genuinely wished for Yeon Sunye’s happiness."

In some ways, Yuina resembled Yeohui. Yeohui, too, had left for Seoul immediately after being rejected by Seoyeon’s father, Yeongbin.

Although it might have been a decision motivated by a desire for a fresh start, Yeohui had never truly let go of her feelings. Time had frozen for her at that moment in her youth when she had shone the brightest, and she had lived ever since in that stasis.

“Yuina is probably the same.”

Reflecting on the drama and Yeohui’s story, Seoyeon found herself lost in thought. Love, it seemed, was more complex than she had imagined and far from always being a positive force.

Most people think of love as something radiant and beautiful, like a shining star. But love comes in many forms, and some of them are murky, entangled with deep pain. Yuina’s love fell into the latter category.

“I think... I’m starting to understand.”

Perhaps if she spoke to Yeohui again, she might learn even more. But whether she could act out those emotions herself was another matter entirely.

Understanding an emotional arc was one thing; embodying it in her performance was a challenge of its own.

“Thank you for taking me to the movie today. It was very helpful.”

“Huh? What? Is this where we’re parting ways?” Seohee asked, clearly dissatisfied.

“Pardon?”

“We can’t just call it a day after watching a movie!”

Seoyeon blinked at Seohee, puzzled. What else were they supposed to do?

“Hmph, didn’t you say you wanted to go shopping with me after seeing me and Lee Jiyeon out together?”

“Well, yes, but...”

That had been under the condition that Lee Jiyeon would join them. Seoyeon had not imagined it would be just her and Seohee. Seohee was... complicated. Not quite a mere friend anymore, but something more.

Honestly, Seoyeon considered Seohee a friend, but the word felt oddly inappropriate when she tried to apply it.

Of course, this wasn’t because Seoyeon harbored any lingering annoyance about Seohee calling her a “nepo baby” when they were younger or her suspiciously backhanded antics that always seemed accidental.

“I bought too many clothes in Japan,” Seoyeon replied.

“Oh.”

Seohee remembered Seoyeon’s recent trip to Japan, where she had indulged in a shopping spree.

If Seoyeon had bought that much, it made sense she wouldn’t need anything else.

“Th-then...” Seohee glanced around hurriedly, scanning the bustling streets for ideas.

“A cosmetics store? No, that’s pointless. Clothes are out, too...”

Seoyeon’s interests leaned heavily toward things that would typically appeal to men. According to Lee Jiyeon, taking Seoyeon to a cosmetics store was futile since she wouldn’t even know what to buy.

“How does she maintain such perfect skin with so little effort?” Seohee lamented.

Seohee, despite her own well-maintained appearance, had achieved it through rigorous effort. Meanwhile, Seoyeon’s skincare routine apparently consisted of little more than lotion and toner.

“Ever since she modeled for Éclat Étoile, she’s just stuck with their products.”

Because Seoyeon didn’t know what else to use, she had simply continued using Éclat Étoile cosmetics. As a result, the brand’s sales had skyrocketed.

Seoyeon had become a walking advertisement for Éclat Étoile, an unofficial brand ambassador.

“Well, uh, how about we play some games? There’s an arcade nearby.”

“An arcade?”

Seoyeon’s interest visibly piqued, and she realized Seohee had been trying to accommodate her preferences.

“Does she think I don’t like shopping?”

In the past, that assumption would have been correct. The rebellious teenage Seoyeon had thought, Why bother with makeup? What’s fun about shopping? I’d rather work out instead.

Even though things were different now, Lee Jiyeon still rarely invited Seoyeon shopping.

“Seoyeon, you’re good at games, right? I’ve been trying out a bunch of games lately. They’re surprisingly helpful!” Seohee said with a sly smile.

Games? That didn’t even need to be asked.

“Yes, I’m very good,” Seoyeon replied confidently, her pride unmistakable.

She was certain she’d win at anything. Seohee didn’t look like someone who frequented arcades anyway.

“Fighting games are perfect for playing together,” Seohee suggested.

“That’s true, but... I’ve never played one before. Is that okay?”

“It’s fine. I’ll teach you,” Seoyeon said, puffing her chest with pride.

“Of course, fighting games are all about learning by taking a beating.”

Seoyeon inserted coins and sat across from Seohee.

But she had forgotten one crucial detail: Seohee’s VTuber persona, Elise, was a variety game streamer—and recently, a highly skilled gamer.

“Seoyeon...”

“...?”

“Should we maybe go somewhere else?”

“No, the match isn’t over yet.”

The match had ended ages ago, but Seohee couldn’t bring herself to say it.

Despite her initial confidence, Seoyeon had been thoroughly demolished by Seohee in just five rounds.

“This doesn’t make sense.”

The first two rounds had seemed to favor Seoyeon, but everything changed in the third.

Seoyeon, despite her excellent reflexes and quick reaction time, couldn’t keep up with Seohee’s meticulous strategy.

“You have to memorize the frame data, not just react to the attacks.”

“...Frame data?”

“You didn’t know? I guess you don’t need to, but...”

Seohee had assumed Seoyeon must already know about frame data based on how she played, but that wasn’t the case.

Fighting games required reading the opponent’s movements, calculating frames, and countering appropriately.

Seoyeon’s style, however, relied purely on reacting to what she saw—a method that worked surprisingly well for her.

“Only Seoyeon could pull that off.” Seohee thought, both impressed and annoyed.

“I should’ve just suggested shopping...” Seohee muttered, close to tears.

By the end, Seoyeon had lost twice more.

“Something’s wrong with this joystick,” Seoyeon grumbled, almost yanking it out in frustration.

“I’d do better if I were in the game myself.”

She was genuinely tempted to believe that.

“Just one more round.”

“Haven’t you been saying that for ten rounds now?” Seohee teased.

“This time, I mean it. One last match.”

Determined, Seoyeon decided to rely on her fastest move—a jab. No attack could beat it in speed.

Just as she prepared to unleash her strategy, a familiar voice interrupted them.

“Well, if it isn’t Jo Seohee.”

Peeking around the arcade machine, Seoyeon saw a man waving enthusiastically at Seohee.

“Isn’t that... the ‘medicated idol’?”

It was Row, the leader of JustX. He greeted Seohee with a friendly wave and a beaming smile.