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

Once I finally got her contact info, getting in touch with Darami was no longer an issue.
But she was such a free-spirited person by nature…

And during her streams, she barely checked her phone no matter who was trying to reach her.
[Ahh sorry! I didn’t see your message. I was streaming. Did you wait long…?]
“Yeah, about six hours.”

[Ack. Sorry sorry sorry!!]
Usually, if I messaged asking for a quick call, it would take about six hours before she got back to me.
If she didn’t at least say sorry, I’d honestly want to smack her, but since she always made a point to apologize, I couldn’t even stay mad.

She was a genuinely kind person, so I never really scolded her.
A few delayed replies weren’t a big deal.
As long as she didn’t vanish completely, it was fine.
“So, do you have a moment right now? Can we meet?”

[Right now? Uh… I just finished streaming and was about to sleep. Wait, why are you still awake, Gia?]
It was 3 a.m., but I was so used to being out and about at this hour that it didn’t even register.
When I said I didn’t mind, Darami suggested I just come over to her place.

She was worried about sending me home alone at this hour, so she told me to come by, talk for a bit, and crash at her place until morning.
What I wanted to bring up wasn’t something I felt comfortable discussing over the phone—even if we planned to keep her current RP and persona intact and just shift her affiliation to Parallel.
There was no real reason to refuse, so I headed over.

By now, barging into a girl’s place late at night didn’t really faze me.
I shot across the city in a taxi and rode the elevator up to her high-rise officetel.
Something about it reminded me of the hallway I’d seen before °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° entering Kiri’s place in Japan.

It felt… really high-end.
Like, the kind of place where you feel like you shouldn’t even leave footprints.
And for some reason, buildings like that never smelled like people lived there.

The silence in the hallway was so total, it was hard to tell if anyone was even home.
But more than the eerie quiet—
“Come in.”

—I was way more shocked by what I saw inside Darami’s apartment.
Currently, four of our Parallel members live alone: Dora, Rain, Orca, and Miho.
And without fail, every time I visited any of their places, they were an absolute mess.

They were always embarrassed but never seemed to get around to cleaning up.
I mean, I get it. Living alone can be overwhelming.
Still, I always wished they’d tidy up just a little.
But Darami’s place? It was spotless.

Not a single piece of clothing strewn around, no underwear lying in the corner.
It looked like it had just been cleaned—perfectly neat.
“Did you clean up just now?”

“Nope.”
She hadn’t even cleaned that day.
Her home was just… always like this.

Apparently, it wasn’t just our CEO—there were other people who lived like this.
Honestly, I was shocked.
Given Darami’s usual chaotic personality, she really didn’t seem like the type to care about cleanliness.

“Your home is the complete opposite of how you act on stream.”
“Wow, that’s a deep cut, you know?!”
“But it’s true. You kinda tend to just… wing it on stream.”

“…That’s infuriating, but I can’t deny it.”
Still, I had a rough idea why her online persona and real life were so opposite.
A suffocating home life.
Streaming was her escape from that.

So maybe that’s why she let loose in front of the camera, but kept her actual living space perfectly in order.
I followed her to the dining table, and instead of canned coffee, she handed me a freshly made espresso from a machine.
It tasted nothing like what I usually drank.

Given who her parents were, it was probably made from high-end beans.
Which suddenly got me thinking—
Is it really okay to just casually bring her on board like this?

Sure, our company’s one of the more successful VTuber agencies in Korea, but…
Was it really okay to sneak Darami in without properly speaking to her parents?
Her parents weren’t exactly fans of the whole streaming scene, right?

It felt like meddling in someone else’s family drama.
If we want to bring her in, we’ll have to prove we’re worth it.
If Darami went along with her parents’ plans, she’d probably become famous, earn tons of money, and live a comfortable life.

So if she was going to give that up for VTubing, her parents would need to see something just as substantial in return.
Like global fame, a massive fanbase, or overwhelming wealth and influence.
Which might not be that impossible.

Sure, it wasn’t like Parallel had come this far solely because of me…
But we’ve been steadily proving we’ve got room to grow.
Just look at Lightning Special City.

It generated so much buzz that even normies who’d never watched a stream in their lives logged onto Pazijik just to see what all the fuss was about.
It wasn’t just me who made that server explode.
But I was the one who kept the fire going until the spectacular finale—and maybe that’s something I could show her parents.

Just promising we won’t fail probably won’t cut it…
If Darami were to officially join Parallel, maybe this is when I need to bust out the dramatic lines she loves so much.
“Entrust her to us, and we’ll make her a global star!” or something like that.

…Though saying it out loud kinda sounded like “Please give me your daughter’s hand in marriage.”
But I figured unless I was that committed, there’s no way her parents would feel comfortable entrusting her to us.
Well—first, I needed to convince her.

“So… I wanted to ask, would you be interested in becoming a Parallel VTuber?”
Darami’s eyes went wide.
“Me?”

“Yes, you.”
She looked like she hadn’t even considered the possibility.
We did a collab two days ago. We had dinner yesterday.

Wasn’t it about time to start expecting something?
Like, ‘Could Parallel be scouting me?’
But from the way she tilted her head, she genuinely had no idea.

It was exactly the kind of goofy response that made her so lovable as a VTuber.
“I’m not talking about a full reincarnation. You’d keep your current character. You’d just be officially affiliated with Parallel.”
“Oh. Ah—really? That’s possible?”

“It’s unusual, but considering what you showed during Lightning Special City…”
“To be honest, half of that was thanks to you, Gia…”
“Even just keeping up with my pacing was impressive.”

Finally, Darami returned to her usual confident self, puffing up with pride.
“Hm. So that’s how it is. I told you, my parents really passed on the good genes.”
“You haven’t passed the interview yet.”

“Ah.”
“You still need to go through the interview process, and there’s a chance you might not make it. So don’t get your hopes up too much just yet.”
“Right… of course.”

In reality, there was a good chance she’d turn this down.
I wasn’t offering a guaranteed spot—just a shot, with the real possibility of rejection.
And she was already doing just fine on her own.

She had a strong concrete core fanbase, and since Lightning Special City, new viewers had been trickling in without much extra effort.
She wasn’t hurting for money, and her streams were relaxed and fun.
So why step into the more restrictive world of corporate VTubing?

What she needed right now… was a shield.
Something with legal weight.
Something her parents couldn’t easily break.

Darami seemed to catch on and asked, eyes gleaming,
“If I pass… I’ll be under contract, right?”
She might act like a loose cannon, but she clearly knew why I’d come here.

“Yes.”
“Then I’ll do the interview. I know it’s a bit shameless, but I really could use Parallel as a shield right now.”
Given her parents’ careers, they’d understand the significance of a contract.

As long as Parallel wasn’t some exploitative agency, they’d probably insist she honor the minimum contract period.
That’s exactly why Darami wanted to team up with us.
Just like she said—Parallel would become her shield.

“I asked this yesterday too, but… you do want to keep streaming, right?”
“Yes. Absolutely. Because it’s fun.”
My job was to support people chasing their dreams as VTubers, to keep them steady when they waver.

After all the trouble I gave her during Lightning Special City, the least I could do was help her now if she wanted it.
Even if that meant standing up to her parents someday.
“I’ll do everything I can to make sure you can keep streaming—without any issues.”

She clasped my hand and gave it a light shake.
But this was Darami we were talking about.
Any other VTuber would’ve immediately said, “Please take care of me!”

Darami, on the other hand…
“So, uh… what exactly do you do at Parallel, Gia? You sound super reliable. Like, I feel like I can really trust you.”
“……”

Should I give her a fake rejection just to mess with her?
“Darami, I’m afraid we can’t bring you into Parallel after all.”
The CEO said we should pass anyone without personality issues and just hit them with intense training afterward.

But seriously, she was getting on my nerves.
***
Over the next few days, I continued working with the CEO, supporting the dormitory construction project Parallel had been planning.

Once the dorm was finished, streaming staff would take turns living on-site, making it easier to respond to any problems that came up.
They were also planning to hire a professional nutritionist, which would make it easier to manage member diets and overall health.
The members had already said they’d love to live together, too.

We were gathering ideas on how to build a shared space where everyone could chase their dreams—while still protecting their privacy.
And most importantly—
If we wanted to win over Darami’s parents, the dorm was a key piece.
Our members had already wrapped up offline performances to great success.

We were technically registered as a talent agency, and with a proper dorm in place, even outsiders would see us as a legitimate entertainment company.
Training, shared housing, vocal and dance lessons…
Being a Parallel VTuber wasn’t just about streaming.
We could show that it was about becoming a full-fledged artist.

Of course, life rarely goes exactly how you want.
“Hello.”
Work always came out of nowhere—and sometimes things took wild, completely unexpected turns.

A woman wearing sunglasses suddenly showed up at Parallel HQ.
She lifted one arm to adjust them slightly, revealing the unmistakable face of a famous actress.
“Is there someone here named Gia?”

It was none other than…
Darami’s mother, Cha Seong-gyeong.