Chapter Text
Kim Dokja was sitting in his cramped studio apartment. The dim glow of his laptop screen illuminated the clutter of takeaway boxes and books stacked precariously on every surface. His favourite web novel updates had run dry, leaving him restless and irritable. He’d spent the better part of the evening scrolling aimlessly through forums and websites, searching for something—anything—to fill the void.
That’s when he stumbled across the streaming site.
An ad banner caught his eye, promising 'Thrilling Streams on Star Stream' and he clicked it out of sheer boredom. He navigated the homepage without much interest, clicking in and out of streams within seconds. Most were too loud, too flashy, or painfully generic. Nothing held his attention.
Until his gaze landed on a channel titled Supreme King. The name alone was ridiculous enough to earn a scoff and he clicked on the icon of two swords crossed in an X shape.
The stream loaded to reveal a man sitting with effortless confidence, his broad shoulders squared as his hands moved fluidly across a mechanical keyboard. His dark, piercing eyes remained fixed on the screen, and his deep voice delivered sharp, concise commentary. There was no pandering to the audience, no exaggerated reactions to the game’s events—just pure focus. Kim Dokja’s hand froze on the trackpad. For the first time that evening, he didn’t feel the urge to click away.
Yoo Joonghyuk.
Kim Dokja didn’t know it then, but he wouldn’t forget that name.
The man played like he’d been born for this. Every movement was deliberate, precise—a perfect symphony of skill and intuition. His gameplay was mesmerising, but it wasn’t just that. It was the way he carried himself, the quiet confidence that radiated through the screen. He didn’t need to shout or wave for attention. Yoo Joonghyuk owned the space he occupied, and Kim Dokja couldn’t look away.
Occasionally, the corner of Yoo Joonghyuk’s mouth would twitch in what could almost be called amusement—a rare reaction to a particularly absurd moment in the game. The chat exploded with laughter whenever it happened, clearly accustomed to reading his subtle expressions. Kim Dokja found himself smiling too, despite himself.
By the time the “Stream Ending” animation rolled across the screen, Kim Dokja realised he’d been watching for hours. His back ached from sitting hunched over his laptop, but he made no move to close the tab. Instead, he chewed his lip in thought, his gaze lingering on the now-static screen.
With a hesitant click, he registered an account on the streaming platform. He started typing his real name but paused, fingers hovering over the keys. Shaking his head, he erased it and replaced it with _reader, reminding himself of the importance of staying anonymous on the internet.
Kim Dokja told himself he’d only watch one more stream… just to pass the time.
The first time Kim Dokja clicked on Yoo Joonghyuk’s stream, he didn’t realise he’d be unable to look away.