Now That I Have Become a Woman, I Am a Vtuber - Chapter 94

“…Sorry?”

All eyes turned to Lee Hyunjun. Although my group members couldn’t see his face, the guys who appeared to be his group members were staring at him intensely.

After all, from their perspective, wasn’t it like their fellow idol was hitting on a random woman out of nowhere? And not in a club, but in this setting.

“Uh… aren’t you from *Beastz*?” Anna’s casual mention of their group’s name only intensified the stares from Hyunjun’s group members.

Now, he’d gone from being a strange guy hitting on a random woman to an insane guy flirting with a non-fan right in front of his fans. Waving his hands in protest, Hyunjun desperately tried to clear up the misunderstanding.

“Don’t you remember? I sent you the premium beef!”

Hmm… He looks so desperate; I should probably clear this up for him soon.

“Beef, you say?” One more round of playful denial wouldn’t hurt.

“Hey… you really…”

“No, hyung, this is a real misunderstanding!” Hyunjun looked pleadingly at the man who seemed to be the group’s eldest, who was frowning at him.

“What’s going on…?”

“Looks like Suhyun’s pretty enough to catch his eye,” one of my friends joked, and Hyunjun, now completely cornered, finally pulled out his last resort.

“Seriously, don’t you remember? Just watch.” He pulled out his phone and called me directly.

Well, I had no time to react, and it’s not like I was going to keep this going much longer. Time to finally clear up the confusion.

*Bzzzz…*

The sound of my phone vibrating in my pocket drew everyone’s gaze to me instantly. I’d made him look like a lunatic; now it was my turn to look like the weirdo.

But… while Hyunjun, a popular idol, might need undeniable evidence to prove his case, I, an ordinary citizen, could settle it with just a single line.

“Haha… Guess I took the joke a bit too far?”

“Hey!”

*Smack!*

“Ouch!”

Although Maho immediately gave me a light slap as punishment, that was the end of it.

“Are you serious?”

“Haha… Fancy seeing you here of all places.”

While the situation had been smoothed over, a new question seemed to form in the minds of those around us: *How on earth do we know each other?*

But honestly, this wasn’t the place for a long conversation, and I was eager to leave. Now that I’d somehow managed to regain control of the atmosphere, I seized the chance.

“Well, we’ll be heading out now.”

“Oh… Yes, of course.”

With all eyes on me, I led the way to the elevator. My group members, still a bit dazed, followed closely behind.

It was clear that my friends had a lot of questions. But really, there wasn’t much to explain.

“He’s a friend of Hyunsu’s. Nothing special,” I said as we stepped outside, and that seemed to satisfy them. Celebrities knowing each other isn’t unusual, after all. Since I have a celebrity friend, knowing other celebrities isn’t that surprising.

“But playing around like that there?” Anna pinched my cheek hard.

“Ow…”

“You scared me half to death. I thought you were actually flirting.”

“Ahhh…”

“Suhyun really is something. I couldn’t even speak when I saw his face up close,” Ma-il added, making everyone laugh while I was getting scolded by Anna.

“He really is handsome, isn’t he?”

“Totally. Seeing him in person… his proportions are just…”

“Now I get why people say they look better in real life.”

As the conversation shifted to idol appearances, I managed to slip away and, thankfully, went home to rest.

Early the next morning, I got a call from the producer saying the track was finally complete and asking me to come to the studio. I bundled up and headed out, shivering as I closed my coat tightly against the early morning chill. It felt almost like winter already. At this rate, I’d probably be hiding under a blanket all winter if it got any colder.

“You’re here?”

“Yes, and it’s freezing outside!”

“Definitely cold. Would you like something warm?”

“Oh, I’m fine. But could I listen to the finished track right away?”

“Of course.”

After a brief chat in the producer’s studio, we headed to the recording room to listen to the final track. I could have listened on earphones, but I wanted to experience it for the first time on the high-quality speakers here. Even though I knew the lyrics and melody, hearing the final version as an actual track was bound to feel different.

Settling comfortably on the studio sofa, I waited as the producer set everything up.

“Seems like you’re pretty excited,” he chuckled, noticing my anticipation.

“Yes, I am! Please, play it.”

“You’re putting a lot of pressure on me. Alright, here goes.”

Despite claiming to feel the pressure, the producer exuded confidence, the kind that comes from a string of hit songs under his belt. My excitement grew as he pressed play.

As the familiar melody I’d recorded countless times wrapped around me, I closed my eyes and took in the sound, enjoying the feeling of finally hearing it all come together.

The song began with a rich soundscape, layered with so many instrumental elements that it was almost hard to keep track. My voice came in, pitched low, setting the tone—not in a dark way, but with a quiet resolve, as if softly affirming my determination.

The song continued, shifting in dynamics—sometimes loud, sometimes soft—playfully moving through the sounds, creating a captivating experience that gradually built toward the highlight.

Then, suddenly, the once full instrumentation dropped, leaving my voice alone to pierce through the silence, flipping the song’s mood on its head. Hearing it like this as an audio track, rather than in the recording booth, gave me a strange feeling. It wasn’t that my voice itself felt unfamiliar but rather the technique I used to express the song. It was as if I was listening to someone else entirely.

Could anyone who hears this track imagine *Miro*? It felt worlds apart from my earlier cover songs or from the sound of the first and second albums of *Cheonsang-gae*. I finished listening with a satisfied smile, feeling I’d tackled a big challenge and come out stronger for it. The composer, who had been listening with a similar expression of pride, approached me.

“So, how do you like the song?”

“It’s great. I’ve listened to it repeatedly during recording, but it sounds even better now.” With the final polish the composer had put on it, the audio version felt just a little richer than the raw melody I’d recorded.

“Honestly, I couldn’t be happier. The track turned out just as I envisioned… actually, maybe even better.”

“Well, maybe that’s thanks to having such a talented singer, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oh no, isn’t someone getting a little too confident here?” he teased.

“You’re the one who put wings on my shoulders, you know,” I replied.

“Haha! Next time, I’ll give you a slightly less amazing song, then.”

“Are you sure? My ears might be spoiled already.”

The recording studio buzzed with warmth and laughter. It felt great to see our hard work come together so well. Whatever the song’s future success, at least we were fully satisfied with our efforts.

However…

“We’re planning to release it early next year.”

As much as I was satisfied, songs only gain meaning when they’re out in the world.

“Is that so? Still some time left, then.”

Early next year… By then, the *Cheonsang-gae* project would probably be introducing its second generation. Thinking about it like that, it felt oddly far off.

“Honestly, there’s no rush on our end, so we’re aiming to release it without any hurry.”

Both the composer and I seemed at ease about it; as long as it released well, timing didn’t matter too much. After all, this track had been in the works for a while already.

“So, how have you been these days? How’s everything going?”

And with that, we naturally shifted to catching up on our recent activities.

It hadn’t been long since my last visit, so there wasn’t much to catch up on… except for one bit of news worth sharing.

“Oh, that minor film role we talked about over lunch last time? I decided to take it.”

“Really? That’s great! All experiences are valuable.”

“Right? Although the role is… well…”

As we continued chatting, memories of my first meeting with the composer came to mind. When I first met him for *Cheonsang-gae’s* debut album, he had this rather stiff image. Who would’ve thought that less than a year later, we’d be casually joking like this?

Life really is full of surprises.

“A confident top star, huh? It suits you, but somehow it doesn’t.”

“Right? I thought the same thing. It’s such an unusual role.”

As we laughed and talked about the role, my gaze drifted to the monitor in front of us. Since we’d just played the audio, the last song was still displayed on the screen with its title clearly written: *Crossroads*.

I wasn’t sure how others would react to this title, but for me, seeing it always stirred something inside. With that thought lingering, I chatted with the c

Composer in the corner of the recording studio.