I May Be a Virtual Youtuber, but I Still Go to Work

“めっちゃ可愛いじゃねーか!! (She’s freaking adorable—!!)”
A sharp shout from a man echoed through the living room the moment we stepped past the entrance.

Well, what else do you expect from a band vocalist? His projection was flawless.
Bleached yellow hair, ears pierced, eyes wide open with all the whites showing—it was a little intimidating, to be honest.
Iyura had told me about him.

Shakei, the lead vocalist of Great, was rough around the edges, but apparently a genuinely kind person on the inside. So there was no need to get too scared.
With that in mind, I calmly stepped forward and bowed politely.
“Thank you. You must be Shakei, the vocalist of Great, right?”

“You know who I am…?”
“Of course. I kept pestering Iyura about who would be here, so I studied up in advance.”
“You speak Japanese way too well…”

“I’ve been learning for years since I want to work in this industry. And if you’re an utaite, this level of Japanese is kind of a given.”
“…You’re not just a Japanese person pretending, are you?”
I switched to Korean to prove it.

“I’m Korean, with a bit of American mixed in. My grandfather’s American.”
Shakei tilted his head, not understanding a word, but Kiri caught on and chimed in.
“She says she’s half Korean, half American.”

“Oh! That explains it! Those blue eyes!”
Kiri, standing behind the bar, looked like…
She and Orca had some things in common—tall, black hair tied up high—but their vibes were polar opposites.

Orca was always stumbling through something, constantly being called a mess.
Kiri, on the other hand, gave off this serene, top-tier master energy, smiling like she had everything figured out.
You know the type. The kind of person who radiates power just by standing still.
To top it off, she was wearing a formal bartender outfit—dress shirt and bowtie—and her face had that naturally cheerful look that somehow sent a shiver down your spine.

Not sharp and polished like Taro, but the kind of charisma that gently wraps around you before you realize you’re trapped.
Then she looked right at me and asked something simple, yet filled with subtle pressure—like I couldn’t afford to answer wrong.
“So, what kind of drink should I make for Fan_C, who came all the way from Korea?”

In gatherings like this, the hardest person to read isn’t the one openly hostile from the start—it’s the one who smiles while silently sizing you up. That’s what Kiri was.
Iyura had warned me about it too.
“Make sure to bow when your eyes meet, but don’t approach her too quickly.”

“Why?”
“Kiri invites people to parties easily, but if she decides someone isn’t worth it, she won’t invite them again. You have to wait until she gives you the real okay.”
Think about it.

No matter how you slice it, Kiri was the host and star of today’s gathering.
I was just an unexpected guest barging in.
If she was letting Shakei push me like this without stepping in, maybe she was testing how I’d handle clashing with him.

Shakei was one of the original members of this crew. Even if Kiri liked me, if I caused trouble with him, I’d be out.
Luckily, I handled Shakei’s aggression calmly. That probably piqued Kiri’s interest.
Which meant—this next answer would shape her first impression of me.

“Praising her too much might feel like brown-nosing…”
So it’d be better to go the honest route.
Unlike with Momo, I wasn’t really a fan of Kiri per se. I was just a junior hoping to learn from her.

And—there was something else. On her podcast, Kiri once shared her favorite cocktail.
A “Blue Hawaiian,” made in her signature personal color.
So what if I asked for the opposite?

Something in a contrasting color might grab her attention.
“A red one, please. As close to magenta as possible. Non-alcoholic, if that’s okay.”
Magenta—basically red with a hint of purple. In Korean, you’d call it “jahongsaek.”

It also happens to be the eye color of my avatar in Frenemy… and the eye color of my eternal role model and idol, Shirahoshi Momo.
The moment I said it, Kiri chuckled softly.
“You like magenta, huh.”

“Yes. I really do.”
“Well, then I’d better make it taste amazing.”
“Iyura always talks about how good your cocktails are. I’ve been looking forward to this.”

“Oh? She said that?”
Kiri glanced over at Iyura with a grin, then turned and began moving behind the bar to mix the drink.
Whew.

I exhaled inwardly.
It felt like invisible, transparent feelers had stretched from Kiri’s body and tapped against my forehead—testing me. Chilling.
Still, just like when I met Producer Na Hyun-gon, I managed to keep a straight face. I don’t really show nerves that easily.

As soon as I took my seat, Shakei leaned over across Iyura—who was sitting between us—and asked,
“Most newbies freak out just seeing me and Kiri in the same room. You’re pretty gutsy.”
“I’m just not the type to get nervous easily.”

“Heh, well that’s essential if you ever plan to sing on stage. That’s what separates shut-in artists from world-class ones.”
Kiri, now pouring a line of colorful liquids into a large glass, added:
“He’s fishing for compliments again. Say something nice already.”

“Hey! I didn’t say anything like that!”
“Shakei, you’re a phenomenal vocalist. Honestly, I still remember the refreshing energy you had in your debut single.”
Shakei scoffed like I was trying too hard.

“Sorry to tell you, flattery doesn’t work on me. If you really remember that well, you should be able to sing at least a line of it, right?”
Without hesitation, I opened my mouth and sang.
Imitating people was one of my specialties.

I’d memorized every song by the singers at this event—especially the ones I liked. So this was nothing.
But still—maybe it was more shocking than I thought.
After I finished, Shakei sighed in disbelief.

“No way… How much did you practice?”
“I didn’t even practice it that much. I just liked your debut song the most, so I kept replaying it…”
“Oh, so the rest of my albums sucked?”

“No, not at all! They’re all great—I just especially liked the debut one.”
“You sure?”
“Of course. Absolutely.”

“…Tch. You’re good with words, huh.”
He looked like he was trying so hard to find something to nitpick.
Nice try. Do you know how hard I worked to get here?

Just then, a woman sitting at the far end came over and took the empty seat beside me.
She was the lead vocalist of Blue Society —the mixed-gender band.
They’d gotten popular recently in Korea thanks to an anime opening.

“Look at Shakei—he’s totally weak against cute girls.”
“God, I’m losing my mind.”
“Before you got here, he was all ‘I’m gonna gatekeep,’ ‘If I don’t like her, she’s out.’ But I guess you passed.”

I gave Shakei a respectful bow.
“Thank you for being so kind.”
“What’re you talking about? I haven’t said a single nice thing yet.”

Whether or not Shakei kept grumbling, the Blue Society vocalist added casually,
“He’s about to become a girl-dad soon. That’s why he gets soft when he sees cute girls—it’s messing with his head.”
“……”

“Look at her—she can’t even talk now.”
Right then, Kiri handed me the cocktail she had finished mixing.
I brought the straw to my lips without hesitation.
Even tasting and reacting to Kiri’s cocktail was part of leaving a good first impression.

But wow… everyone really was staring me down like I was some total outsider.
So this is what it feels like to get grilled under a camera lens…
“…Mmm.”
This translation is the intellectual property of .

Yet those stares that had been making me hyper-aware of every move—
They vanished instantly, like they’d been washed away by water.
All because the cocktail Kiri handed me was absurdly good.
Half by luck, maybe, but she’d hit my preferences dead-on.

Before she even had to ask me how it tasted,
I twirled the bits of fresh strawberries and fruit chunks in the glass with my straw and said,
“It’s totally my style. I really love strawberries.”
“Hm, so I nailed your taste? It’s not too sweet for you?”

“Nope, it’s just right.”
To be honest, I didn’t even like sweet stuff before.
It only happened naturally after our first-gen girls debuted and I started buying them all kinds of snacks to cheer them up.
Before that, I never went out of my way to eat sweets.
But after researching their favorite desserts to lift their mood, I ended up eating some myself while handing them out.

Back in my previous life, eating sweet stuff was kind of a chore.
I appreciated the gifts from my members, but it usually left me in a bit of pain afterward.
So in that sense, I’m kind of glad my body can handle it now.
Actually, sweet things even help lift my mood—like °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° they do for the girls.
Maybe that’s why I felt a little more upbeat than usual.

“I really appreciate the warm welcome, even though I showed up out of nowhere.”
Kiri smiled and asked,
“Looks like you’ve finally relaxed?”

“Oh. Did I look nervous?”
“Well, it seemed like you came prepared for all sorts of things. But yeah, you did look a bit tense. This version of you is way better.”
“I mean… you all already knew each other, and I was the only new face, so I was worried about how to fit in.”

At that, Kiri let out a light, carefree laugh and said, as if to signal that the test was over,
“Well then, just enjoy yourself with everyone here. Seems like they’re curious to get to know you.”
That was basically her saying—You’re in. Welcome to the group.

I had passed the first gate.
Now I needed to blend in, deepen these relationships,
and especially avoid setting Shakei off again… all while slowly working my way closer to Kiri.
My throat felt a little dry from the tension,
so I finished off the mojito Kiri made in a few gulps, then got up and started making my way around the room—bowing politely to each person I passed, starting with the one seated behind Shakei.

If someone reached out for a handshake, I grabbed their hand without hesitation, introduced myself, and chatted for a bit.
But maybe I was acting too much like an office worker, because someone asked:
“You said your name was Fan_C, right? How old are you?”

“Born in 2000.”
“2000?! No way. I thought you were still in school. You’re way too composed—you feel like a working adult.”
“Well, that’s actually true. I’m doing both.”

The moment I said that, the shock on their faces was almost cartoonish.
“You’re working and doing that with a body that small?”
“Seriously impressive.”
“You’re an utaite too?”
Then their gazes slowly turned toward Shakei.
A silent pressure, as if saying, This is the girl you were gatekeeping from the group?

Shakei scrunched up his brows and raised his voice.
“Why are you all looking at me like that?! I welcomed her after hearing the song, didn’t I?! Who was the first one to say she was cute when she walked in?! I’m totally down for Fan_C to keep coming to our hangouts!”
Maybe because even Shakei had now openly declared himself on my side—

From then on, people arrived one by one.
They were surprised when they saw me.
They sat near me.
Even though it was Kiri who invited everyone, and this was clearly her home…
At some point, it started to feel like it was my birthday party.

Sure, it makes sense for people to be curious about a newcomer,
but I hadn’t expected this much attention.
Still, when we had a moment alone, Iyura leaned over and whispered with a knowing smile, giving me a subtle thumbs-up.
“Told you you’d win everyone over.”

A little overwhelmed from all the attention in such a short time, I muttered in a drained voice,
“Did you… just know it’d turn out like this?”
“Look around. In a gathering like this, someone like you is bound to attract attention. Everyone’s going to want to approach you.”

There were thirteen people in total tonight.
The band musicians like Shakei were all flashy.
The singers, including Kiri, had this fierce aura about them that made them feel hard to approach.
And then there was me—small, soft-looking, unintimidating. Naturally, the center of curiosity.

“Besides, the fact that you’re juggling a full-time job is the real kicker. Someone who looks that young working and doing this on the side? It’s too shocking.”
“…Is it really that surprising?”
Apparently so—because when Kiri later suggested a friendly bet over a round of Soul Clash,
Shakei, who had been spiky the whole time, proudly declared his Platinum rank and said,

“Aaah~ I wish someone like you could sing a congratulatory song at my daughter’s Erabitory someday. If that happened, I’d probably hand over the prize without a fight…”
He clearly believed he had the upper hand in gaming.
“I appreciate the thought, but I’d like to win it fair and square.”

“Wow, confident, huh? I was gonna go easy on you, but now I have to go all in?”
“I’ve beaten a few Golds before.”
“Golds? You must not know—there’s a wall between Gold and Platinum you’ll never break through. You’ll regret not taking my offer when you had the chance.”

I shook my head.
“It makes it more fun to challenge someone stronger. And it’s just a fun bet anyway, right?”
“…Tch. That calm attitude of yours is so annoying. There’s nothing to criticize—no flaws to pick at. Lame.”

Kiri chimed in.
“That’s her way of saying you’ve got a great personality.”
“Hey, Kiri! Stop putting your weird little comments in! Anyway—get ready. I’ll show you just how wide the gap between us really is.”

And about thirty minutes later—
It was time for our best-of-three match in Soul Clash. The winner would move on in the winners’ bracket. The loser… to the losers’ bracket.
And the result?

“2 to 1! Winner: Fan_C!”
I’d been secretly practicing Soul Clash during every spare moment for the past two weeks.
Wanggu-sensei had even called me a natural.

Shakei, now dropped into the losers’ bracket, shouted at full volume, his expression blank with disbelief as his voice echoed through the entire living room:
“そんなバカな—!! (This can’t be happening—!!)*