Interview
"…But going through the process of failing once and preparing again, I was able to take another look at my strengths and weaknesses, and now I think it became a good opportunity to show the viewers how much I've grown."
Sweat trickled down my back.
She was putting it nicely now, but what must Ha-bin have really thought all this time?
While the 1st-gen Celestial Project members, who'd gone through the same auditions as her, were leading thousands of viewers on their streams—she had to fight her way through the 2nd-gen candidate pool. How must that have felt?
No matter how I spin it, it couldn't have been good.
Still… that much is fine.
It was her own elimination, after all.
But if she ever found out that the person who scraped by at the last moment and did get accepted was now sitting here asking her what she thought of 1st-gen…
Uh. Even I'd feel pretty sour about that.
The manager's glare at my side was sharp enough to stab.
No, seriously, I didn't know!
Meanwhile, Ha-bin, thinking she'd given a good answer, was staring at me with bright, expectant eyes, waiting for my reaction.
Fine. I had to say something. Something cool, something classy, to keep up this refined image. And anyway, she didn't know I was Miro yet.
I'd just have to worry about later… later.
"Ah, yes. People often say that in life there's no such thing as failure—only success and the process of reaching it. Viewing your 1st-round elimination not as failure, but as part of the process… I think that's what's made you who you are today, Ha-bin-ssi."
"Really?"
"Yes. Competing against others is important, but I personally believe what matters more is tending to yourself and strengthening your own foundation."
The manager's gaze burned into me again.
But what could I do? The pedal was already down on this runaway 8-ton truck.
And look at Ha-bin—her eyes were shining with admiration!
I wasn't deceiving her. I was healing whatever scars she might still have.
"Y-yes, that's true. Honestly, I was hurting a lot back then…"
"Of course, who wouldn't be? But even so, you pushed forward and achieved results in such fierce competition. That's no easy feat."
"Yes… yes… I even thought about giving up, but in the end, I realized this was the only path for me…"
"I understand completely. I've also had times when things weren't going my way, but in the end what matters is…"
Shit… what am I even doing right now?
Something's gone way, way off the rails.
Her eyes were even glistening now.
I'm not a counselor!
I glanced sideways at the manager for help, but he only gave me a cold, withering look.
Damn it… at this point, I had no choice but to see it through.
So I channeled my inner therapist, dredging up every scrap of shallow, surface-level knowledge I'd ever picked up, and counseled her for what felt like ages.
At last, Ha-bin left the room looking relieved, almost refreshed.
Once she was gone—
"…"
"…Please don't look at me like that."
I turned away slightly.
The manager's glare was practically stabbing through my body.
"Ha… this is all my fault. I should've warned you beforehand."
He tried to take some of the blame, but I wasn't so sure.
In times like this, a quick subject change was the best move.
"Haha, no, it's fine… I should've realized when I heard her nickname. Anyway, the next person… they're not another 1st-gen reject, right?"
Since I was changing the subject, I figured I might as well ask. I couldn't afford to make the same mistake twice.
"No, not at all. This next one seems to be completely new—no prior streaming experience."
"Ah, really?"
"Yes. And she's only just turned 20. Younger than you, Miro-nim."
"20? Seriously?"
That surprised me. Twenty years old—did that mean I wasn't the baby anymore?
But wait. I had the life experience of forty-two years under my belt. And yet here was a twenty-year-old rookie, climbing all the way to the finals against fierce competition. Was she some kind of prodigy?
"Yes. Personally, I'd call her a promising talent—though with some concerns."
"Concerns? Ah… well, sure. She's so young."
Streaming, after all, was basically a constant responsibility—maintaining trust with the audience.
Would someone whose entire social life so far had been the easy mode of middle and high school have the mental fortitude to endure it?
And with zero streaming experience, there was also the risk that she might debut and then abandon it all.
"Hearing you say she's younger than me feels a little strange."
"Well, you're not exactly a typical twenty-one-year-old."
"That's true. But don't tell me you're thinking, 'Miro did fine when she was young, so this girl will too,' right?"
I asked, half-joking.
The manager didn't answer right away.
Wait. Seriously?
"You can't be serious?"
"No, no, of course I don't mean it like that…"
"Oh, don't tell me—it's the higher-ups again?"
Those damn higher-ups.
I really wanted to see their faces one day.
Sure, their pushiness was impressive, but honestly, they were so out of touch with reality.
"Still, I believe the candidate coming in now will do well."
"Really?"
"Yes."
We'd see about that.
"What's her nickname?"
"Seo Eun-ha."
"Seo Eun-ha, huh… Any relation to Seo Dong-ha?"
"…?"
"Sorry."
"Oh, was that a joke? It was so out of nowhere I couldn't even tell."
"…."
Was it really that bad of a joke?
Anyway—Seo Eun-ha.
Just from the nickname alone, she gave off a delicate, pure sort of vibe.
Well, judging people in this industry by their nicknames is pointless.
I mean, just look at me. What does "Miro" have to do with how I look right now?
Still, the manager had spoken highly of her, so I couldn't help but feel a little curious.
How promising was she, exactly?
Since this was the manager who looked after every single Celestial member, his evaluation carried weight. That made me look forward to it even more.
But as we waited for the next person to arrive…
"…Why isn't she coming?"
"Good question… I got word earlier that she'd already arrived."
Did she get lost? The building was big, sure, but not that confusing.
"Wait—didn't you come greet me when I first came here? Are you discriminating against the 2nd-gen now?"
"I'm the general manager now, you know? A rookie staffer goes down to pick them up."
"Oh, look at you, moving up in the world?"
"Yep."
Less than a year and already climbing the ladder that fast.
Well, I guess it's not surprising, considering how much work he handles.
"Still, why isn't she coming?"
"Yeah… maybe I should give her a call?"
"No, that'd feel too pushy. I'll just slip out and look for her."
"Do you know what she looks like?"
"I'll just grab the one wandering around looking lost."
It's her first time here, right? I could just spot someone searching nervously and ask if she was Seo Eun-ha.
"Alright, then. I'll leave it to you."
"Be right back."
With the manager seeing me off, I stepped out of the reception room—
"…Oh."
And right there, in front of the door, stood a girl pacing around.
She was small—barely up to my chest, even shorter than Mile, petite in every way. She glanced around for a moment, then met my eyes.
And immediately—
Flick—
She dropped her gaze.
No way…
"Um… excuse me, are you Seo Eun-ha?"
"Y-y-yes, I am…"
"…Hmm."
So this really was Seo Eun-ha? At a glance, she looked extremely introverted.
She couldn't even make eye contact, shrinking into herself like that.
"Well… let's go inside, then."
Since she said she was Seo Eun-ha, I brought her into the room.
"Ah, you're here…?"
Judging from the manager's reaction, even he hadn't realized she was this withdrawn.
He had mentioned she might be a little introverted, but this wasn't "a little."
"Ah, hello… I'm Seo Eun-ha…"
This was the "promising talent"? Really?
I didn't mean to be rude, but I couldn't help thinking it.
Was the 2nd-gen Celestial Project really going to be alright?
I glanced at the manager with that thought, and even he seemed a little flustered.
Good thing Seo Eun-ha couldn't see his face—
with her head bowed so low, there was no chance she could.
"Please, have a seat."
Alright, so she was introverted. But come on, wasn't she aiming to be a Virtual YouTuber?
It's a job where you sit in front of your desk, put up a screen, and laugh and chat with internet friends. Being introverted was practically expected.
Maybe with more conversation, I could get a better read on her.
So we got her seated, and the interview began.
"So, how was your trip here?"
The manager opened first.
I stayed quiet—honestly, I had no idea what to say.
"Uh, um, I—I came by my dad's car…"
"Oh, I see. Then is your father waiting downstairs?"
"Yes… he's waiting at the café below."
"Mm, I see…"
Two exchanges, and already silence settled thick in the room.
Even the great manager couldn't break the ice.
Was this timid, withdrawn girl with her tiny voice really the promising talent he'd mentioned?
She looked like she could barely handle a basic conversation.
Sure, internet and real life are different—but could she really manage streaming with confidence?
I was already worried.
Sigh…
Could I just go home now?
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