In This Life, The Greatest Star In The Universe

I could roughly guess the flow of thoughts.

(Korean idols) → (Huh? He’s speaking Chinese like a Taiwanese person?) → (Oh! He must be the Taiwanese member.)

I cocked my head at the confused owner and said with a smile.

“I’m Korean.”

“...?”

“Not Taiwanese, I’m Korean.”

“Ahhh.”

So now they understood. Just as I was about to explain, “Yes, I just studied Chinese really hard,” the owner clapped his hands and exclaimed, “Ah!”

“Then are your parents Taiwanese?”

...Why did the conversation jump like that?

“No. Both of them are Korean...”

“That can’t be. Your pronunciation is completely Taiwanese. Dear! Come here. This Korean celebrity speaks better than you.”

“What did you say?”

Her husband came over with a scowl asking what she meant, spoke a few words with me, then gave a thumbs-up.

“Alright.”

The little incident ended there. I worried they might take the service dish back, but instead they brought out one more. Being a foreigner who studied their language to this level seemed to earn extra points. I explained the whole story to the people watching with puzzled expressions. Soon everyone burst into laughter and applause.

“Pahaha!”

Chef Park Jae-woo asked, “How well do you speak that locals mistake you for one of them?”

“No kidding. I was surprised, too.”

“Are you sure this is your first time abroad? You’re too fluent. Woo-joo, are you some kind of language genius?”

Yu Chang-hyun joined in. “Yeah, what’s your secret, Woo-joo? While we wait for the food, how about sharing your language tips?”

“...There’s really no secret.”

There is. But it’s not something I can say on air. The real reasons I’d been taken for a local were twofold: mastering Chinese as a trainee, and using my ability to perfectly mimic lip and muscle movements from watching MeTube clips and broadcasts. But I couldn’t say, “Actually, I can copy people’s lip and throat muscles exactly.” Before I could explain, my brothers excitedly began to speak up.

“Ahem, Woo-joo hyung is good at everything. Whatever he tries, he does perfectly.”

“He’s great at languages, too.”

“He’s super smart. Too bad he uses that brain to tease us all the time.”

I just felt dumbstruck watching their proud faces. Why were they bragging on my behalf? Their warm eyes met mine as if to say, “You’re our private property.” “A slave’s happiness is his master’s happiness.” ...I vowed I’d never let them live it down once the cameras stopped rolling.

Filming progressed smoothly. After a light bite here, we’d move on for another meal there. The format was simple. When a dish arrived, Chef Park Jae-woo took a bite and commented.

“Taiwanese beef noodle soup definitely has less oil and feels cleaner than on the mainland. The meat is tender with no chewiness at all.”

He really smiled happily. The chef, wearing a gentle smile, grabbed another forkful of noodles. As steam rose from the thick broth, everyone murmured in admiration.

“No wonder beef noodle soup is called the soul food of Greater China. You can tell from just one bite.”

With a satisfied expression, he described the soup’s origins and cooking methods in a pleasing voice. His stories were so fascinating we leaned in to listen. Questions flew at him between bites.

“What flavors do you notice?”

While the rest of us ate thinking, “Hmm? It just tastes good,” one person answered confidently: Bi-ju. She set down her chopsticks demurely and said, “I taste garlic, and it seems they stir-fried onions and ginger. The rest is unfamiliar, but are these bean sprouts and bok choy?”

“Bi-ju, you have a real palate.”

“Yes, I love cooking, Chef.”

Immediately the two of them chatted excitedly. When [N O V E L I G H T] the animated chef rattled on about the dish, Bi-ju smiled and replied in kind.

“Bi-ju really has a feel for this!”

“I admire you, Chef!”

The chef and singer looked at each other, beaming. ...What a perfect couple. While those two improvised a cooking show, the rest of us happily ate. Myeong Se-jin’s round face trembled.

“This is amazing, unbelievable.”

“Se-jin, shouldn’t you join the chef’s conversation? He’s owning you right now.”

“I’m dessert specialty, it’s fine. Besides, the chef might end up switching apprentices....”

As they joked, Chef Park suddenly grabbed Bi-ju’s hand.

“Feel this. These are a cook’s hands. These calluses didn’t come from just a year or two.”

“Are these really a cook’s hands?”

“Hands like these belong in the kitchen....”

Clay Tyler said the same, and Chef Park clearly liked her. Yu Chang-hyun teased Myeong Se-jin.

“You’ve basically been stolen already, huh?”

“It’s not over yet. When we go to that mango shaved-ice shop later, everything will change. Just watch.”

We laughed at the patissier’s expression, like a queen whose throne was usurped. Meanwhile, we faithfully played our parts: Chef Park and Myeong Se-jin displayed knowledge and passion, Yu Chang-hyun played the entertainer, and New Black’s role was reaction.

“Whoa, incredible. This is so good I could die and not notice!”

“Huh?”

Junghyun asked, “But if we both died, wouldn’t that be weird for the food?”

“Hey, true. Hyung. So creepy!”

“Creeeeeeepy.”

Across from me, Myeong Se-jin laughed so hard she choked. Junghyun kindly offered her a tissue with a serious “Here you go.” She spat out the noodles, then laughed until nearly in tears.

“Kuh-heh-heh! Kugh!”

The patissier hid her flushed cheeks in her hands, shaking with laughter. Everyone abandoned their chopsticks and collapsed in giggles.

“...I’m going crazy, seriously.”

The real cause of laughter quietly drank his beef noodle soup with a serene smile. Whenever we ate together, we tossed jokes at each other and made enthusiastic “Wow, that’s the taste!” reactions. The writers, smiling with satisfaction, seemed pleased with our performance.

“Wow, New Black really eats a lot.”

Yu Chang-hyun, eyeing the growing pile of dishes, asked in amazement, “Do you usually eat this much?”

“Yes, we eat like cows grazing on grass. Except when preparing an album, we eat a ton.”

“Right.”

Ri-hyeok set down his chopsticks. “I eat the least among us.”

“...?”

“So I worry.”

This time Bi-ju spoke up. “Ri-hyeok always picks at his food.”

“This is the amount the smallest eater has? Ri-hyeok ate more than the three of us.”

“Yes, isn’t it a lot? He’s in a growth spurt....”

“That’s right. Ri-hyeok still has to grow taller.”

Seeing our worried looks, the regular cast stared in bewilderment. Myeong Se-jin said blankly, “...I feel like I’ve witnessed something seriously wrong.”

“Right? It’s like hearing my grandmother tell me I’m too skinny and need to gain weight.”

We’d just eaten normally, but everyone else looked disgusted. Nearby, Mingi hyung smiled warmly and whispered something to Wonseok hyung. Then the owner brought out a large plate of freshly fried eggplant.

“This is a service.”

Surprised, the three of us asked, “Another service dish? Are we Taiwanese again?”

“No. The owner said since you’re from a Korean TV program, they’re giving extra service. They ask for plenty of promotion.”

“What do we do? We’re full...”

“Don’t worry.”

I smiled confidently. “We can handle it.”

As the regular cast watched with impressed “Ooh” expressions, Ri-hyeok clicked his tongue. “Please stop speaking so eloquently about this stuff.”

“Right. Save the face, hyung.”

“Anyway, Woo-joo hyung’s corny lines are on point.”

When I glared back at those fierce disses, Yu Chang-hyun looked curious.

“But New Black all look so full—can you eat all this eggplant?”

“Yes, we can. There’s a way.”

All five of us locked eyes, nodding like athletes calling a play.

‘Is it that method?’

‘Yes. That method.’

After our silent exchange, I said seriously, “Unbuckle.”

In perfect unison, the five idols loosened their waist belts, sending the onlookers into laughter and amazement.

Xiao long bao, beef noodle soup, castella, mango shaved ice. We quickly covered Taiwan’s famous eats while filming. From the beef noodle shop onward, our enormous appetites genuinely impressed everyone. Yu Chang-hyun joked that when the show airs, we’ll get the “idol with the big appetite” title. After visiting the CNN-featured mango shaved ice shop, we moved on to street promotion.

“One, two, fighting!”

We joined hands, shouted, then hit the streets with promotional flyers. Individual cameras followed us as we warmed up with laughter.

“The weather is so nice.”

“Right. It’s warmer than I thought.”

Most people wore coats or light padding. Taiwan’s January average of over 15°C feels like a chilly spring day in Korea. It’s like a Russian arriving in Korea in winter thinking, “Pff, what a joke.” We were on Yongkang Street, known as Taiwan’s Hongdae. Aside from the Chinese signage and unique street food, it felt like Yeonnam-dong.

“Hello!”

Whenever someone passed, I approached with a gentle smile. “We’re opening a pop-up café nearby tomorrow! If you have time, please come by!”

“Oh... sure. But what show is this?”

“We’re TBC.”

“...A Korean show?”

People took our flyers in confusion. Few recognized us, but some fans asked for photos. We shook hands, took pictures, and promoted the café with bright smiles, like an impromptu fan meeting. Then something surprising happened.

“I know you guys!”

Other Asian tourists excitedly pointed at us. “...The New Black!” When I asked how they knew, they said they were K-pop fans. They loved our videos on MeTube. My brothers teared up at that.

“Brothers, we’re famous!”

“We becoming stars!”

They spoke Konglish lines as Ri-hyeok and I smiled wryly. Our foreign soufflés giggled in delight. We even gave a brief dance fan service and took more photos together.

“Hmm....”

One guest said they looked ugly in the photo, so we retook it multiple times. They still frowned as they spoke among themselves, but when they saw the final shot with us, they beamed. As the broadcast cameras filmed, a departing fan pointed at Junghyun and said, “You’re my bias, goat man.” Junghyun tilted his head confusedly, so I translated directly.

“You are my favorite, goat man.”

“Ooh. Me too. You are my soufflé.”

While Junghyun blew kisses, we laughed at “goat man.” Thanks to our enthusiastic promotion,

“We’ve used all the flyers!”

In less than two hours, we’d given out every flyer, even the extras. The writer’s delighted grin made us all smile. I had a good feeling.

Half a day of filming wrapped up.

“Good work, everyone!”

“Thanks, see you tomorrow.”

The TBC Patissier Korea team and regular cast moved separately to prepare for tomorrow’s café. We had our own afternoon schedule. Though we’d have free time late tonight, we were here to work, not vacation. First up was an interview with Taiwan’s famous entertainment magazine HIT!

“Hello.”

The HIT! editor conducting the interview spoke Korean fluently. The studio interview flowed in a gentle atmosphere. They asked friendly questions, but we answered carefully. Our managers recorded the interview in case of malicious editing. Seated on a comfy sofa, the five of us faced the editor, who crossed his legs.

“I think New Black’s early overseas fandom comes from a singer-songwriter charm. Do you listen to a lot of music when composing?”

“Yes, I listen to all kinds from other countries.”

“Do you listen to Taiwanese music?”

“Yes.”

We discussed famous Taiwanese singer-songwriters and their latest tracks, catching the editor’s interest.

“How do you feel about Taiwanese music?”

That was a delicate question. A slip-up could result in, “K-pop idol New Black says Taiwanese music is such-and-such,” which might be taken the wrong way. So I smiled gently as always.

“I’m not at the level to evaluate senior artists yet. I’m listening hard.”

“...I see.”

Whenever a potentially awkward question came up, I quickly deflected. After the interview, we shook hands with the editor and smiled.

“You did great in the interview.”

“The editor asked good questions.”

He just smiled at my humble reply. “Looking forward to the photo spread.” While our managers offered coffee to the editor and staff, we changed outfits for the magazine shoot. But...

“Hmm.”

Dressed sharply in suits and holding ties, we eyed them.

“The color’s a bit...”

“Too bold.”

Looking at the colored ties chosen to match our personal palettes, we all looked uneasy.

“Is their aesthetic different for foreign magazines...?”

Blue or red might work, but the rest posed a dilemma. I scratched my cheek while holding a purple tie. But what could we do? After smoothly tying the ties, our stylists perfected our makeup and attire.

“Woo-joo, you’re up first.”

“Yes, hyung.”

I followed Wonseok hyung into the studio, standing before the white background as they checked camera positions. The photographer said in English,

“Let’s start with any comfortable pose!”

I shifted my legs to pose comfortably, but before I was ready, the shutter clicked.

Click!