I Want to Be a VTuber

I’ve thought about it since childhood.

Ever since the day I saw that performance, I wanted to act like that someday.

Was it jealousy, or admiration? She didn’t know.

...To be honest, it was probably closer to admiration.

When they were children, Ju Seoyeon had been so incredible that Jiyeon hadn’t even dared to think of chasing after her.

When she suddenly disappeared from the industry, Jiyeon couldn't understand why.

She ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) had pushed her to return countless times.

After entering adolescence, she came to understand the reason to some extent.

But before that, they had nearly fought over it several times.

That was how much Seoyeon's acting meant to Jiyeon.

"If it's too much, you can do it later. There's no rush."

That’s what Jo Sehee had said.

Filming without Ju Seoyeon was far more difficult than expected, and the staff’s exhaustion was evident.

She couldn't even get through a single take without an NG.

She had to repeat the scene multiple times just to get something decent.

But—

"It's okay."

Now that filming had dragged on for so long, she felt like she could do it.

She could be more honest with herself.

She could finally express these emotions.

"I'll give it a try."

Ju Seoyeon probably didn’t know.

But since childhood, Jiyeon had always aimed to act like her.

'...Of course, if Seoyeon knew, she'd probably look at me with that annoyingly smug face.'

That thought alone was unpleasant, so she had no intention of ever telling her.

But it was the truth.

She wanted to act like her.

To deliver performances that could move people, shining like starlight.

Because that had been her precious dream ever since she was a child.

***

"I always envied you, milady."

As Michiko attempted to throw herself out of the window, Yeon Seonye grabbed her arms and slammed her against the wall.

If she didn’t restrain her like this, she would jump immediately.

"A mansion this grand. If you want something, your maids will serve you hand and foot. Isn’t that amazing?"

Yeon Seonye had struggled just to pay for her younger sibling’s medical bills, yet for Michiko, that kind of money was mere pocket change.

The disparity.

The overwhelming difference between them—one she could never overcome—had filled her with jealousy.

No, it had made her furious.

"You have so much, so what the hell makes you so miserable that you'd want to die?"

The venom in her voice made the audience hold their breath.

Yeon Seonye’s emotions were bleeding through the screen.

This wasn’t concern.

This was jealousy—raw, palpable, undeniable.

Jiyeon glanced sideways at Seoyeon.

She was slightly worried about what expression she’d make.

'She’s probably seen this face before.'

"You had everything I ever wanted, and you acted like it was nothing."

Yeon Seonye’s outburst sounded eerily similar to something Jiyeon had once said to Seoyeon.

She knew that, in this scene, some of her real emotions had bled into her performance.

"I lost count of how many times I wished all of it had been given to me instead."

No matter how much she acted, she couldn’t do it.

No matter how hard she tried, it wasn’t enough.

She hit a wall—one she could never break through.

"Do you even understand? Do you know what it feels like to watch your sibling waste away in pain because you don’t have the money to save them?!"

Yet the ones who had everything did nothing.

They could have done so much.

They could have had everything she struggled for without even trying.

"I hated that."

As she spoke, Yeon Seonye’s eyes turned red, and tears slipped down her cheeks.

Just like back then.

Because she had been so angry.

Because it had been so unfair.

Because she had hated how pathetic she was.

"That helplessness."

That was why she had run away.

Just like Yeon Seonye.

Jiyeon tried to ignore it.

What she couldn’t do was simply impossible.

Even if she reached for the starlight, it was meaningless.

A small flame could never become a star.

Talent was cruel.

No matter how much you wanted something, if you weren’t born with the talent for it, it would never be yours.

Some lucky people had both the dream and the talent to achieve it.

But she wasn’t one of them.

If Seoyeon’s acting was like a star, then hers was barely a candle flame in a small room.

That was why she had resented Seoyeon for having it but doing nothing with it.

Even if it was just for a fleeting moment, she had truly resented her.

Why did she, of all people, have that talent?

If only it had been given to her instead.

She had thought that countless times.

So many times, it was almost pathetic.

"I've never been in your position."

Tears streamed down Yeon Seonye’s face.

For a moment, Michiko was speechless.

It wasn’t just simple jealousy.

It wasn’t hatred.

It was deeper than that.

Beneath her emotions was an overwhelming sense of self-loathing.

A pitiful disgust toward herself—toward the kind of person who could do nothing but feel jealous.

"But even now, I still want to be like you."

She still envied her.

But now, she finally understood Michiko’s pain.

Why she looked that way.

Why she had done nothing but endure in silence.

She had watched her long enough to understand.

"But I don’t envy you anymore."

Michiko had always been alone.

Ever since the moment her parents died.

No one had ever truly treated her as a person.

She had always lived in solitude.

No matter how much money she had, there was no one to share it with.

No matter how lavishly she dressed, all she received in return were empty compliments from servants.

No one had ever truly approached her with sincerity.

Loneliness.

Now, Yeon Seonye understood that.

"I’ll stay by your side."

Holding Michiko’s hands, she said—

"I’ll be your family."

While searching Michiko’s room for the missing necklace, Yeon Seonye had found a photograph.

A picture of Michiko as a child, smiling brightly with her family.

So different from how she was now.

"So please, don’t say you’ll die."

At the very least, she would treat her with sincerity.

That raw, heartfelt plea resonated through the screen.

No one in the audience could tear their eyes away.

As if they were all wearing the same expression.

Only Jiyeon couldn’t fully immerse herself in this scene.

Because she was nervous.

She wasn’t as strong as Seoyeon.

She wasn’t as composed as Jo Sehee.

She was just an ordinary person.

A seventeen-year-old girl, trembling as she sat there, awaiting judgment.

She was scared.

Terrified.

A storm of emotions swirled inside her, making her hands shake.

Ever since childhood, her hands had always trembled when she felt anxious.

Then—

A light poke at her side.

She nearly jumped in surprise.

When she turned to look—

Seoyeon was gazing at her.

The audience was mesmerized by the scene playing on-screen.

Everyone’s attention was fixed on the movie.

But Seoyeon was looking at her.

With soft, curved eyes, she gently traced a finger across Jiyeon’s hand.

For a moment, Jiyeon was confused.

But then she realized—

Seoyeon was writing something.

"Amazing."

Just three syllables.

When Jiyeon widened her eyes and looked at Seoyeon, Seoyeon smiled proudly.

At that moment, an overwhelming, indescribable emotion surged within Jiyeon.

The feelings buried under tension, fear, and anxiety suddenly washed over her, triggered by something so small.

Seoyeon had always been her goal.

But that didn’t mean she wanted to be like Seoyeon.

Jiyeon wanted to stand on equal footing with her.

Like Jo Sehee.

Or like Stella.

She had thought it was nothing more than a foolish dream of an ordinary person.

But now, at this very moment, it felt like she had finally chased that boundary.

Seoyeon’s index finger slowly lifted away from the back of her hand.

Without thinking, Jiyeon instinctively grabbed it.

She was startled by her own action.

But for some reason, she couldn’t let go so easily.

Seoyeon’s eyes widened briefly.

But upon seeing Jiyeon’s trembling hand, she only let out a small, helpless smile.

As if saying, there’s no helping it.

As Jiyeon held onto Seoyeon's index finger, her trembling gradually subsided.

At the same time, their eyes met, and before they realized it, they both let out small laughs.

It was because they both found the sight of each other utterly ridiculous.

Then, without saying who was first, they turned their gazes back to the screen.

The film was reaching its climax.

But it wasn't over yet.

****

Critic Kang Yuseok only came back to his senses when the ending credits rolled.

At some point, he had completely lost himself in the film.

That was unlike him.

He was someone who always watched films with a critical eye.

But today, he couldn’t do that.

He had no choice but to watch as a pure audience member, fully immersed.

When had that happened?

When Yeon Seonye’s conflict began?

Or was it when Yuina’s emotions started to change?

Or when Michiko resolved to take her own life?

He couldn’t quite remember.

That was how much he had enjoyed the movie.

Especially the climax—Yeon Seonye and Michiko’s confrontation.

The argument that unfolded as Yeon Seonye tried to stop Michiko from committing suicide.

The raw exchange of emotions.

"I thought her acting had no presence."

That it was lackluster for a lead role.

That it was inevitable, given that she was just a rookie who had only appeared in cable dramas.

That was what he had assumed.

But it was completely different.

In the latter half, Yeon Seonye never fell behind the other actors.

In terms of runtime, it couldn’t have been very long.

Maybe ten minutes?

Or twenty?

But that was the film’s climax.

And in those twenty minutes, she was the undisputed protagonist.

She commanded more attention than any other actor in the film.

"...Hey, I told you this one would be good."

The critic who had accompanied him, Lee Seokhun, shrugged smugly.

His expression showed immense satisfaction—he was thrilled that a film by his favorite director had turned out so well.

"You were right. This time, I was wrong."

But it was a mistake he was happy about.

This year had been filled with high-quality films.

And this one was more than worthy of closing the year.

To the point where even the preconception of it being a "queer film" completely faded away while watching it.

"I can't wait to write my review."

It had been a long time since he felt this way.

A film that made him feel this excited.

Everything was satisfying.

From the protagonist, Yeon Seonye, to Jo Sehee and Ju Seoyeon.

Even Stella’s cameo—how was that?

For a cameo, she had far more screen time than expected, nearly on par with a minor supporting role.

Just how did they manage to cast someone like her in Kyungsung Lady?

Was she really close to Ju Seoyeon?

"Ju Seoyeon..."

The most talked-about actress of the year.

He had been impressed by her performance in The Chaser.

But her role in Kyungsung Lady was just as remarkable.

Yuina’s emotional trajectory.

The way she watched the two at the end, letting them go with a sorrowful gaze.

That final moment, where the feelings of a girl who had loved and lost were laid bare—so much so that sighs of pity escaped from the audience.

Michiko and Yeon Seonye were incredible.

But the relationship between Yuina and Yeon Seonye was just as compelling.

"I'm looking forward to this."

What kind of reaction would this film provoke once it was released?

Wasn’t it a simultaneous release with Japan?

This film had definitely piqued Japan’s interest for a reason.

Critic Kang Yuseok thought so.

****

Across various film communities, Kyungsung Lady had become the hottest topic.

It was a film by director Baek Min, renowned for his artistic vision.

It starred Ju Seoyeon, who had been making headlines recently.

Though Jo Sehee was the official lead, the actual protagonist was played by an actress with little recognition.

So many people had questioned the casting.

They had Jo Sehee and Ju Seoyeon in the same movie—so why was the protagonist someone else?

That was the general reaction.

And then, there were the reports that Stella had a cameo.

That it was actor Lee Sangsoo’s comeback film.

This movie had dragged in every possible topic of interest.

So naturally, anticipation for the press screening was high.

And today—

The evening of the press screening.

A well-known film YouTuber started his live broadcast.

"Oh, let me tell you—this is going to be a massive hit. Seriously, how do I even describe this...? If things go well, this could hit ten million."

- What kind of queer film hits ten million? LOL

- Bongshik, you’re reaching, lmao

"What are you talking about?! We’ve already had a queer film hit ten million in this country!"

- That was an exception, lmao

- The acting in that one was insane, though

"Man, it’s so frustrating that I can’t spoil anything. Seriously, just go watch it. I’ll do a full review after it releases. When that time comes, all I ask is that you say, ‘Damn, Bongshik really knows his films.’"

- Dramatic as always, LOL

- But to be fair, Bongshik never hypes something up if it sucks

- Was the press screening really that good?

- With Ju Seoyeon and Jo Sehee, the box office is guaranteed, lol

"No, listen—Ju Seoyeon and Jo Sehee were amazing, but..."

Han Bongshik trailed off mid-sentence.

This was something that couldn’t be explained in words.

It was something that had to be experienced.

"Just make sure you watch it on opening day. I mean it."

For once, his tone was dead serious.

Skipping this movie would be a loss in life.

***

Seoyeon didn’t think much about the Kyungsung Lady press screening.

Yuina hadn’t been involved in any particularly explicit scenes, so she didn’t have any concerns.

But now that she had handed out tickets, she felt a little guilty toward Lee Jiyeon.

Unlike her, Jiyeon had some rather... intense scenes with Jo Sehee in the film.

'That scene almost flashed in my mind again.'

Still, watching it on the big screen for the second time had made it a little easier.

The first time, she had almost collapsed right there in the theater.

Good thing she had prepared herself beforehand.

Thinking that, she stepped into the classroom.

"...?"

But the moment she entered, she sensed that something was off.

The atmosphere was strange.

The gazes directed at her were unusually sharp.