Chapter Text
Chapter 1 — Reality
The worst thing about being a webtoon artist wasn’t the deadlines.
It was the silence.
Not peaceful silence.
The kind that slowly swallowed your entire life until the only voices left were the characters you drew.
Yoon Haein knew this better than anyone.
The apartment smelled faintly of instant ramen and pen ink.
Three empty energy drink cans sat beside the tablet.
A half-finished panel glowed on the screen.
Two characters stood on a rooftop.
One was confessing.
Yoon Haein groaned.
“Ugh, no one says that in real life.”
They grabbed the stylus and scribbled over the dialogue bubble.
“I loved you from the moment I saw you.”
Delete.
Replace.
“You’re annoying… but I guess I like you.”
Better.
More realistic.
They leaned back in the chair, stretching stiff shoulders.
The clock read 2:41 AM.
Again.
Deadlines didn’t care about sleep.
Neither did readers.
Especially not when your webtoon had unexpectedly climbed into the Top 20 romance charts.
A notification pinged from the publishing app.
New comment.
Yoon Haein opened it.
“Your male leads are unrealistically attractive.”
Another.
“Why do they all fall in love so easily?”
Another.
“Have you ever even dated before?”
Yoon Haein stared at that one longer than the others.
“…Rude.”
They minimized the app.
Because the answer was technically yes.
Just not in reality.
Their gaze drifted to the headset beside the tablet.
BOYD.
Boyfriend On Demand.
A stupid impulse purchase six months ago that had somehow become the most consistent relationship experience they’d ever had.
They picked it up.
The smooth plastic reflected their tired eyes.
Nine hundred.
Nine hundred virtual relationships.
Nine hundred simulated love stories.
And somehow none of them stuck.
Because the truth was simple.
Real relationships were messy.
Virtual ones were customizable.
And Yoon Haein had become very good at customization.
_____________________________________________________________________
The Office
Morning arrived like a punch to the face.
Yoon Haein barely remembered falling asleep.
The alarm on their phone screamed at 8:00 AM.
They rolled off the couch.
“Five more minutes…”
Thirty minutes later they were sprinting out the apartment door with toast hanging from their mouth.
Because clichés sometimes happened in real life too.
The publishing company building sat in a crowded district of Seoul.
Glass walls.
Fluorescent lights.
The faint smell of coffee and printer ink.
Yoon Haein arrived five minutes late and tried to sneak past the front desk.
“Late again.”
They froze.
The voice came from behind them.
Low.
Flat.
Unimpressed.
Yoon Haein turned slowly.
Park Min-ju stood by the coffee machine.
Tall.
Broad shoulders.
Black hair pushed back like he’d run his hand through it one too many times.
His ID badge hung crooked on his shirt.
He looked exactly like he always did.
Calm.
Annoyingly composed.
And unfairly attractive for someone who worked in webtoon production management.
Yoon Haein forced a smile.
“Good morning to you too.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“It’s 9:35.”
“Still morning.”
He took a sip of coffee.
“Your deadline was yesterday.”
“…Technically today if we adjust for time zones.”
“You live in Seoul.”
“Time is a social construct.”
He stared at them.
Yoon Haein coughed and hurried toward their desk.
Min-ju sighed.
“You’re impossible.”
Their desks sat across from each other.
An unfortunate seating arrangement decided by HR.
Yoon Haein opened their tablet.
Panels filled the screen.
Min-ju glanced over.
“…Your male lead looks familiar.”
Yoon Haein immediately minimized the window.
“No he doesn’t.”
He leaned closer.
“Yes he does.”
“Nope.”
“His hair is literally my hairstyle.”
“Coincidence.”
“You gave him my mole.”
“Lots of people have moles.”
“…On the exact same cheek?”
Yoon Haein turned bright red.
“Stop looking at my art!”
He smirked slightly.
Which was worse than if he’d laughed.
Because Min-ju almost never smiled.
They worked like that for hours.
Yoon Haein drawing.
Min-ju organizing schedules and yelling at other artists through Slack.
Occasionally their eyes drifted to each other.
Occasionally they pretended not to notice.
The tension between them had always been… strange.
Not hostile.
Not friendly.
Just something unresolved.
Like a conversation that never started.
Around noon Min-ju stood.
“Lunch.”
Yoon Haein didn’t look up.
“Busy.”
“You haven’t eaten.”
“I had toast.”
“You inhaled toast while running down the street.”
“Still counts.”
He sighed again.
“You’re going to collapse.”
“I collapse artistically.”
“That’s not a thing.”
“Everything is a thing if you suffer enough.”
He stared at them for a long moment.
Then he placed a convenience store sandwich on their desk.
“…Eat.”
Yoon Haein blinked.
“You bought this?”
“Yes.”
“…Why?”
“You’ll pass out and delay production.”
“…That’s oddly considerate.”
“It’s selfish.”
Yoon Haein grinned.
“Still counts.”
That moment lingered longer than it should have.
Neither of them said anything.
But something subtle shifted in the quiet between their desks.
____________________________________________________________________
Night Again
The apartment felt even quieter after work.
Yoon Haein dropped their bag.
The tablet landed on the desk.
Notifications blinked.
Deadlines.
Comments.
Fan messages.
But something else waited on the screen.
A notification from BOYD.
They had forgotten about it.
The FINAL MATCH message glowed softly.
Yoon Haein sat down.
“…Right.”
Nine hundred boyfriends.
And now the system wanted honesty.
A questionnaire opened.
The first question appeared.
“Why do your relationships fail?”
Yoon Haein snorted.
“Wow. Straight to the trauma.”
They typed.
Because I leave before things get real.
Next question.
“What scares you about love?”
They hesitated.
Then typed slowly.
Being seen too clearly.
Next.
“Describe the type of person you secretly want.”
Yoon Haein frowned.
They thought about it.
Not the fantasy versions.
Not the characters they drew.
Someone real.
Someone grounded.
Someone patient.
Someone who didn’t give up easily.
Someone who noticed small things.
Someone who brought them food when they forgot to eat.
The stylus hovered.
They typed.
Someone stubborn.
Next question appeared.
“What face do you trust?”
They stared at the screen.
For some reason an image popped into their mind immediately.
Black hair.
Sharp eyes.
Annoyingly calm expression.
The way he leaned against the coffee machine every morning.
Park Min-ju
Yoon Haein groaned and rubbed their face.
“Absolutely not.”
They deleted the thought.
Then hesitated.
Then typed something vague instead.
Someone who looks dependable.
The system processed.
A loading circle spun.
Then a final message appeared.
“Your final partner is being generated.”
“Please enter a name.”
Yoon Haein stretched their arms.
“Alright… boyfriend number 901.”
They tapped the keyboard.
Then paused.
Outside, rain began tapping against the window again.
The same kind of storm as the night before.
The cursor blinked.
Waiting.
Yoon Haein typed a random name.
Or at least they thought it was random.
YEONG-IL
They blinked.
“…Why did I write that.”
The system locked the entry.
CONFIRMED
The headset lights turned on.
Bright.
Brighter than usual.
The voice greeted them again.
“Welcome back to BOYD.”
“Your final boyfriend is ready.”
Yoon Haein picked up the headset slowly.
“…Let’s see how long this one lasts.”
They placed it over their eyes.
The world dissolved.
Digital light formed around them.
A figure appeared in the distance.
Tall.
Broad shoulders.
Black hair.
Walking closer.
Closer.
Closer.
Then the face became clear.
Yoon Haein stomach dropped.
Because the man standing in front of them was Gu Yeong-Il.
And somewhere in the real world…
The actual Gu Yeong-Il suddenly looked up from his laptop at the office.
For no reason at all.
As if someone had just said his name.