Success was a double-edged sword. Following the face reveal and the clearing of his name, Jae-wook's professional career didn't just take off—it exploded. Sponsorship deals, invitations to international tournaments in Tokyo and Los Angeles, and daily streaming requirements began to eat away at the time he once spent in the hallways of Saebom High.
For the first time, the "Invisible Boy" was too visible to the world, making him nearly absent from his own life.
"You're late again," Min-ji noted, popping a piece of gum as Jae-wook slipped into his seat during the middle of a self-study period.
Jae-wook looked exhausted. Dark circles hung under his eyes, and he hadn't even had time to style his hair. "The morning stream ran over. There was a technical glitch with the server."
Yoo-na, sitting just a few feet away, didn't turn around. She was staring intently at her textbook, but she hadn't turned a page in ten minutes. The silence between them felt different today—it wasn't the comfortable silence of two people who understood each other, but a heavy, static-filled gap.
At lunch, they sat in their usual spot, but Jae-wook's phone was a constant third wheel. It buzzed with Discord notifications and emails from his management team.
"So, the school festival is in two weeks," Yoo-na said, trying to bridge the distance. "Min-ji and I were thinking of setting up a retro gaming booth. We thought you could be the 'final boss' people have to beat. It would be fun, right?"
Jae-wook rubbed his temples, his eyes glued to a contract on his screen. "Yoo-na, I'd love to, but that's the same weekend as the Seoul Invitational. I have to be at the arena for the qualifiers."
Yoo-na's expression fell. "Oh. Right. The Invitational. I forgot."
"It's a huge opportunity," Jae-wook said, finally looking up. "The prize pool is—"
"I know the prize pool is big, Jae-wook," Yoo-na interrupted, her voice uncharacteristically sharp. "I'm not talking about the money. I'm talking about the fact that we haven't played a duo match together in three weeks. I'm talking about the fact that I only see you through a screen lately, even when you're sitting right next to me."
"I'm doing this for us, for our future!" Jae-wook argued, his frustration bubbling over.
"Is it for us, or is it for Gun?" Yoo-na stood up, her eyes misty. "Lately, it feels like Kim Jae-wook is disappearing again. But this time, he's not hiding behind glasses. He's hiding behind his own fame."
The misunderstanding festered over the next few days. Rumors began to circulate again—this time, that the "Power Duo" was breaking up. Without Jae-wook there to defend her, Jin-ho and Sarah's remaining friends started whispering that Yoo-na was being "dumped" by the celebrity she had helped create.
The insecurity hit Yoo-na hard. On Friday night, she logged into Shadow Strike Online. She saw Gun was online, but he was in a "Private Training Room" with a group of professional players.
She stood alone in the game's digital lobby, her character 'Starry' glowing in the neon light. For the first time in two years, she felt like she was playing a solo game.
Suddenly, a message popped up. It wasn't from Gun.
Unknown Player: Heard your Duo partner moved on to better things. Want to join a real team?
Yoo-na stared at the screen. The pressure from school, the jealousy from her peers, and the growing distance from Jae-wook felt like a crushing weight. She didn't reply, but she didn't log off either.
In his training room, Jae-wook was staring at the lobby list. He saw Starry's name. He wanted to invite her, but his coach's voice was booming in his headset about "frame rates" and "tactical positioning."
He was at the top of the world, but he had never felt more alone. The glitch in his reality had returned, but this time, he was the one who had caused it. He realized that in his rush to secure their future, he was losing the very person he wanted that future with.
As he watched Starry's icon turn gray as she logged off, Jae-wook pushed his keyboard away. The Invitations were important, but they weren't his reality. Yoo-na was. And he had to find a way to reconnect before the lag became permanent.
