Chapter Text
Kim Dokja stumbled out the door of the diner for the fourth night this week. Spring is beginning, and the competition is skyrocketing— although he couldn’t understand why a software company like Mino Soft should be concerned about that.
As if we have a competitive edge enough to care for competition.
He was tipsy, he knew. His sight was blurry like an unfocused camera and he’s staggering more than walking.
I’m as graceless as a cat drunk on catnip and the ground is shaking sideways. Who taught Baldy that abysmal concoction he keeps pouring on our glasses— was it soju with beer and tomato juice?
He felt the urge to throw up at that sidewalk. Normally, he wouldn’t stay for an afterwork drink, but his coworkers insisted. And that balding old man just had to be nearby.
A rowdy crowd stepped out after him that caused him to look. It was just the guys from work. Those tall, entitled guys from marketing and finance, and the background guys from IT, and some arrogant jerks from HR. Then, he zeroed in on the heart of the commotion.
Ah. Yoo Sangah from HR. Should’ve known.
Dokja sighed as he leaned on the wall, watching the men fuss about sending Sangah home, as if she were a chief executive of the company. As if the head chief with his balding head and the horrible mix of alcohol and nicotine in his breath would experience this kind of treatment.
And neither will I. Not in this lifetime.
Dokja has long been accustomed to be overlooked, even ignored. He’s fine with it, even prefers it. Being ignored means less trouble, less acknowledgement, less responsibility. He straightens, and walks slowly, making a mental note to stay near the walls for support.
He shouldn’t have drunk as much as he did tonight. Normally, he would be reading the latest chapters of his favorite novel, TWSA, instead of practically crawling his way home. He sighed and looked up on the sky. It was starry tonight, he noticed, his gaze lingering on those dots of light.
What star would look at me, if I was in that world? Probably some minor constellation. Someone nobody knew.
Yoo Junghyeok is so exceptional, he has a lot of stars looking at him.
Out of habit, he pulled out his old, battered phone from his pocket and powered it open. He immediately checked if there were new chapters uploaded on the reading site. It may have seemed pathetic to see a grown man leaning against the sidewalk, clearly having drunk, scrolling through his phone with an immovable focus. But Dokja didn’t care, he was back on his own world.
Life visibly filled his gaze the further he scrolled down, gradual and desperate. He wasn’t less tipsy, but he was more alive. Not the monotonous office worker who reeks of coffee and instant noodles, but like a leaf swaying with the wind.
Rapid typing. A satisfied smile.
After Dokja finished reading, he left several comments, as usual. Praising the author, praising Junghyeok, marveling at the turn of events. More praise for Junghyeok.
A sigh of contentment and he looked up. Lights filled Dokja’s eyes, glimmering with life. Slowly, his eyes went wide, his dark under eyes seemed to look lighter. The hand that was clutching at his phone fell to his side— an unheard-of incident.
Dokja was staring now, lips partially opened with stunned surprise. The billboard flashed with a new commercial that people stopped by and stared at for short moments.
Black hair, neat eyebrows, beautiful bone structure, eyes that draws you in even in that glare. Dark clothing and a sturdy build.
Yoo Jung—
“—Junghyuk, was it? He’s a popular pro-gamer, isn’t he?”
“Oh, yes! What was that game called again?”
“I don’t care about that; all I care is how he looks!”
Yoo… Junghyuk…?
Dokja froze, his body noticeably rigid. A flurry of emotions was filling his body that he doubted what he was experiencing. A particularly sharp tingling in his head. Was it excitement… or refusal?
What was I feeling?
Dokja was confused, even bewildered. He was feeling strongly for something foreign. Feelings that should have been reserved for TWSA alone.
Yes, exactly… like how I felt when Yoo Junghyeok married Seolwha… when Yoo Junghyeok had his 999th regression…
No. No. It’s not him, it couldn’t possibly be.
Dokja refused the idea. It was absurd. The protagonist he admired wouldn’t be some random pro-player in real life. He refused to even think, much less acknowledge, that the writer he admired would use a random person on the net to inspire their character.
Three Ways of Survival was the most beautiful story he had ever read. The protagonist he admires was one in a million. He shouldn’t reduce that just because someone looked remotely alike the image of Yoo Junghyeok he conjured in his mind.
While Dokja debated with his own mind, muttering to himself, he couldn’t resist taking another look at that pro-player endorsing a set of keyboards and headphones on the billboard. His eyes drawn to that stubborn, glare-like resolve in the eyes of the model. Then, his name flashes below in clear, neat lines.
Captain Yoo Junghyuk.
Dokja shook his head, thinking that the alcohol was getting to him. He blinked several times before looking up again, only to meet that piercing glare from across the screen. His hand shook slightly with feelings he couldn’t decipher just yet.
It was absurd. It has to be, Dokja kept muttering even as he opened his phone again and did something he had never done before— searched for a person’s information online.
He typed in the familiar name in the search engine, his fingers hovering on the Enter key. Something made him pause. Just a few centimeters between his thumb and the screen with nothing but air in between them but he couldn’t press down. The unnamed feeling in his gut was making him hesitate finding out. Dokja stared at his screen for so long he could’ve been mistaken having a drunken stupor. Then, it dawned.
Ah. I’m afraid.
Afraid of what? Afraid of discovery, or of withdrawal? Dokja smiled wryly, covering his eyes in a tired surrender. He knows he’s afraid— of what, he couldn’t pinpoint. Like a mantra, he started reciting Yoo Junghyeok’s name— the protagonist he liked, not the person on the blinding billboard— like he always did to summon courage when things got tough. Clenching his fist, he pressed the key decisively.
And there it was:
Name: Yoo Junghyuk
Age: 24
Occupation: Pro-gamer, Captain (MOBA)
A sharp inhale and a silent sigh of disbelief. Well, damn.