He Is That Guy

The wedding venue was bigger and fancier than I’d imagined. Tae-young hadn’t been kidding when he said booking the hall had been rough.
After signing the guestbook and handing over the gift money, I ran right into him.
“Ji-han! How long’s it been since I’ve seen your face?”

Today’s other star—besides the bride—had his bangs slicked back neatly, tuxedo perfectly pressed.
I shook the hand he offered and gave a faint smile.
“Almost a year. You look good today, hyung.”

“Hearing that from you feels nice. No trouble getting here?”
“Station’s close, it was fine. Not nervous?”
“I’m dying right now. I thought about taking a calming pill, but they said it might just make me drowsy, so I didn’t dare.”

“Forget the pills. Just grit through it.”
I answered with a teasing grin, and he tapped my arm lightly with a smile of his own.
“Thanks for coming even though you’re busy.”
“Of course I’d come. Congrats on the wedding.”

“Yeah. If you get hungry mid-way, grab food. And when you leave, don’t hesitate—just go comfortably.”
With a wink hidden from the older guests, Tae-young moved off to greet others.
There were still about thirty minutes until the ceremony, so I wandered around the interior.

Tae-young was one of the few pro gamer acquaintances I’d stayed close to for ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) six years, since he was eighteen.
Back then I was hovering between Diamond and Master rank, while he was a rookie just debuting as a pro. With so few players in the high tiers, we often ended up on the same team.
After running games together, we naturally added each other, and kept in touch here and there on messenger. At nineteen, when I entered an offline tournament, we finally met in person.

That tournament was hosted by Kim Se-hoon, one of the first-generation pros, and back when he was active his team was LVS. So Tae-young, a fellow mid laner and Kim’s junior, had come both to promote and cheer.
Time really flies.
Now Tae-young had been retired for over a year—and he was getting married.

Most pros debuted around twenty and played until their mid-twenties; he’d started later than most, so his career didn’t last as long. Still, as LVS’s mid laner he was respected, carrying a team that dominated every tournament since its founding.
And LVS still has Sensory.
He’d said Sensory would be here. After two years on the same team, of course he’d come.

I only knew his face and nickname, nothing else. But I couldn’t stop the nerves. He was the opponent who’d hit me so hard I’d quit the game I’d grinded for years.
Better to keep my head down, slip out mid-ceremony. Hands in pockets, I strolled the corridors looking for a quiet corner.
“Can’t believe Tae-young’s getting married.”
“This is my first wedding.”
“Please, let’s behave and not cause trouble, okay?”
“Coach, when do we get to eat?”

Voices floated from nearby. One of them—called “coach”—looked familiar.
Right. Tae-young had once pointed him out as LVS’s coach. Which meant the people gathered there were LVS players or staff.
I’ll just steer clear of that side.

Whether Sensory was still on LVS or not, he’d obviously stick with people he knew.

I turned my back and walked the opposite way, pressing a finger hard to the bridge of my nose. Coming to a close friend’s wedding only to sneak around like this—pathetic.
I didn’t want to see him, but running away like this… it was depressing. Sensory probably didn’t even know who I was. I sighed.
“…Um.”

A low, gentle voice made me glance sideways. I stiffened.
Tall, broad-shouldered, pale skin with ears tinged red, light hair catching the light—
“Hello. Uh, I’m…”

Eyes avoiding mine, fumbling nervously, he finally managed to say:
“I’m Sensory. Same team as Seo Tae-young. Do you know me?”
Fuck.

The words jolted me.
Why the hell are you talking to me?
The man in front of me was unmistakable—the same Sensory I’d just seen in news articles.

But why me? How could he possibly recognize me? No matter how I turned it over in my head, it made no sense.
“Uh, yeah. I know who you are…”
I muttered awkwardly, glancing around. The corridor was empty except for us.

At my answer, Sensory lit up, smiling wide as he stepped closer. I took one step back.
“You really do. I’ve wanted to meet you for a while.”
“…Me?”

“Yes.”
He blinked those long lashes a few times, then added:
“You’re Jeo Jolryeoyo, right? We’ve played a ton. Tae-young hyung talks about you a lot, too.”

“…”
Hearing my game handle from his mouth—chills ran down my spine.
Why does his voice sound so familiar?

I’d seen behind-the-scenes videos, maybe an interview clip once or twice. But this was the first time hearing him in person. Yet somehow, his voice felt… known.
I froze, unable to respond, when an announcement echoed through the hall.
Ladies and gentlemen, the ceremony will begin in ten minutes. Please take your seats.

“Ah, I see. Nice to meet you. Excuse me.”
Perfect timing. I used the excuse to turn my back quickly.
“I—I need to go in too…”

He mumbled like to himself, trailing after me.
Unbelievable.
 

****

The ceremony went on smoothly. I stood in the back, clapping here and there, thoughts tangled.
What the hell is with this guy?

Sensory was glued to my side, sneaking glances like he had something to say.
If he had something, he should just spit it out. People were starting to notice. It was suffocating.
This is too much…

Forget it. I’d slip out at the first chance.
Arms crossed, I sighed. That’s when he spoke again, hesitant.
“Um… Jeo Jolryeoyo.”

“…”
God, irritating.
“Call me Yu Ji-han.”

“Oh, right.”
He smiled shyly.
“Yu Ji-han…?”

“Say what you wanted.”
“The ceremony’s nearly over… are you staying for the meal?”
What kind of question was that? Was he about to suggest eating together?

Alarm bells blared. I shook my head quickly.
“No.”
“Oh…”

He looked crestfallen, brows drooping. For a second I felt guilty for shutting him down so bluntly, but I wasn’t about to change my answer now.
Like hell I could share a table, smiling, with someone who made me this uncomfortable.
Then applause broke out—ceremony over. Staff opened the doors and cleared decorations for the guests to move. People were rising, heading to the couple or filing out.

Now’s my chance. I turned to leave, ignoring Sensory.
“Chae Yu-jeong!”
“…?”

It was the LVS coach from earlier.
He rushed over, gave me an apologetic glance, then started scolding Sensory.
“You little punk, you didn’t even call to say you arrived. Why aren’t you picking up your phone? Did you at least watch the ceremony?”

“I did.”
Sensory’s tone to him was flat, totally different from when he spoke to me.
Wait.

His name is Chae Yu-jeong?
I knew Sensory by handle and face—like any fan would. But I’d never paid attention to his real name.
If his real name was Chae Yu-jeong…

“…!”
Like a thunderbolt, it hit me. My body froze stiff with shock.
No way.

No way.
No way…