In This Life, The Greatest Star In The Universe

The intoxication vanished in an instant.

Saying that the alcohol I hadn’t even drunk was wearing off was a bizarre expression—but it was true.

Just moments ago the buzz had risen sharply, and now it disappeared as if it had been a lie.

“Pfft!”

One of the staff tried to cover their mouth and couldn’t help bursting out laughing.

“Pwahahaha!”

Roaring laughter rang out from all around.

It was embarrassing, it was sad, and I wondered why my life was like this.

“Ouch, my belly.”

Teacher No Jae-hyun laughed, clutching his stomach.

The younger members kept slapping my shoulder or clapping, tumbling on the sofa.

“Kya-haha!”

Bi-ju? Bi-ju, hey.

“Ugh... sob!”

Watching the juniors laugh until tears streamed down their faces, I forced a wry smile.

Really.

In this moment I wished everyone would just disappear from around me.

After a long while the laughter died down.

“Well, I haven’t had anything to laugh about lately. Thanks to you, I laughed my fill today.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it....”

Right.

I decided to take solace in having brought a little joy to a venerable singer.

I turned my head to look at the assistant director.

“What about this....”

Before I could even finish the thought ‘...will this go on air?’ he gave me a thumbs-up.

It’s a sure thing it’ll air. Five-hundred percent.

Just thinking ahead to how our Soufflés, Mrs. Kim Deok-soon, and Han Tae-hyun would tease me made my head hurt already.

But hey, is this the first time something like this has happened?

My mind recovered quickly.

After all, I’m someone who once wrote a video letter to a cat. This was no real blow.

“Oh my.”

Our maknae wobbled while imitating someone.

“I think I got drunk on non-alcoholic drinks.”

“Kekekeke!”

“It’s too funny! Really!”

...Just wait until after this. You guys.

The shoot was extended. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

Originally they were just going to film the scene of Teacher No Jae-hyun and me creating a melody together.

But the assistant director came over to relay the main PD’s wishes.

“The PD said he’d like to shoot other parts, too.”

“Which parts?”

“All the things Teacher No Jae-hyun asked you to help with.”

“Yes. That’s right.”

Earlier the teacher had asked that since there were chores that would be hard for Mrs. Kang to do on her own, we should help out.

We’d gladly agreed.

But today’s shoot was meant solely to cover the behind-the-scenes of the competition song.

We’d planned to help with the housework separately after filming, since it didn’t fit the spirit of Challenge, Masterpiece Discovery!

But...

“Since the shooting schedule was already extended, the PD said he’d like to film that part, too.”

“Ah. Yes, understood.”

It wasn’t a bad proposal.

After all, it was something we’d have to do anyway—and now it could be part of the broadcast.

We passed the news on right away.

“Let’s do the chores first?”

Teacher No Jae-hyun tilted his head.

“But we should create the melody first. Don’t you need some quiet time alone, Mr. Non-Alcohol?”

At the embarrassing nickname the juniors twitched their cheeks, laughing.

I cleared my throat.

“It’s fine. Even when composing I don’t focus in silence—I prefer doing small tasks while I think.”

“In that case, I don’t mind.”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

Ji-ho cut in.

“He really works while doing other things. He’ll be in the shower and suddenly shout ‘Maknae!’ and tell me to grab my phone recording app because a melody just popped into his head.”

“When I was eating stir-fried pork he did that—kept talking to me until my food got cold....”

“He once came over while I was cooking to play a melody for me.”

“Last time he was folding laundry and suddenly jumped up because a great idea hit him.”

Listening to the victims’ testimonies, Teacher No Jae-hyun looked on with interest.

“So he’s an unusual person, Mr. Non-Alcohol?”

“No, I’m not unusual, Teacher.”

“With that face, your words aren’t convincing.”

The juniors all nodded.

‘Great exterior...’

‘Empty inside...’

As we wondered whether to take it as a compliment or an insult, Teacher No Jae-hyun shrugged his shoulders.

“Then it’s settled. I’ll tell you what needs doing—follow me.”

We followed the slowly moving electric wheelchair.

It was the study we’d visited earlier.

A glass wall looked out over a lawn, and a stately wooden table sat before it.

The other three walls were lined with shelves packed tight with books.

“It’s really nice....”

When Ri-hyeok gazed at it in awe again, the veteran singer spoke.

“Well, I need these books organized....”

The other party cleared his throat.

“Mrs. Kang’s been saying for ages that the books need sorting. The order’s odd, some are misplaced—she found it distracting—but she felt too weak to ask... or rather, couldn’t ask.”

We smiled inwardly.

‘She wanted the shelves sorted.’

We immediately understood the situation.

The order the books were shelved, the color arrangement.

Those little things that irritate the eye, yet aren’t something you’d ask the housekeeper to do...

And then, as if delighted by the arrival of these young people:

“Well, Mrs. Kang said the arrangement feels strange.”

His face brimmed with excitement as he listed the problems.

Across from us someone wore the same expression.

“Hmm.”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

Cool eyes shining with something like happiness.

Fingers trembling with excitement.

“You want them organized, yes?”

“Yes indeed.”

“From what I’ve heard, you’d like the books classified according to the Korean Decimal Classification—social sciences in the 300s, natural sciences in the 400s, that sort of thing?”

“No, you—”

Teacher No Jae-hyun gave a delighted exclamation.

“You read my mind! So, what do you think?”

“One moment, Teacher.”

Ri-hyeok immediately began surveying the shelves and making estimates; we exchanged glances.

The more Ri-hyeok blinked, the more our faces turned ashen.

‘Oh no, we’re doomed. What do we do?’

‘This is bad.’

‘I just want to cook....’

Ri-hyeok murmured “hmm,” then asked:

“Teacher, do you have a tape measure?”

“Here it is.”

From a storage drawer under the table came a long metal tape.

Ri-hyeok walked around the room, measuring swiftly.

“It’s 37 centimeters here. Then we fill it with 2.5-centimeter books.”

“That’s it.”

“You want the 900s organized by subject?”

“Indeed. Rather than regional divisions like Europe and Asia, divide by political history, economic history, and so on.”

They spoke as if they were architects debating blueprints for an unbuilt building.

Ri-hyeok nodded.

“I understand. I can already see the picture you’re describing.”

“Ohhhh.”

The old man in the wheelchair trembled with excitement.

The cameraman shooting him glanced at us; we shook our heads.

We have no idea what they’re talking about.

Meanwhile Ri-hyeok and Teacher No Jae-hyun were huddled together, conversing intimately.

“Hahaha!”

“Hohoho!”

They were so in sync it was like watching sugar melt in milk.

Anyone would think they were real grandfather and grandson.

Finally they clasped hands and exclaimed:

“Ri-hyeok!”

“Teacher!”

Teacher No Jae-hyun spoke with mock reproach.

“You rascal. Where have you been until now?”

“I’m a rational person who doesn’t believe in fate, but today I find myself wanting to.”

“This must be what Buddhism calls in-yeon—fateful connection.”

It was heartwarming.

Watching them, I felt I should hand them a rolling paper and say, ‘May you two live happily ever after...!’

But we couldn’t smile.

We knew what awaited after that conversation.

“Shall we get started?”

“Good.”

The two masters of organization turned to us.

One was too frail to move easily, the other struggled even to ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) open a Pringles lid. The grunt labor fell to us lowly servants.

“What do we do?”

Ri-hyeok smiled approvingly.

“We work.”

“....”

“Come over here quickly. I’ll tell you.”

“Um....”

One timid bear glanced around, then raised a hand.

“I have a suggestion.”

“Yes?”

“Couldn’t we just move the entire shelf? That I’m confident about.”

“Organization isn’t done by force, Jung-hyun. This requires such delicate care.”

Teacher No Jae-hyun nodded, adding:

“You’re right. Very true.”

“Right, Teacher? I’m always right.”

This time Ji-ho raised his hand.

“Ahem! Ahem!”

He was acting as if he had a sore throat.

“My throat hurts....”

“I thought that might happen, so I brought masks.”

“....”

“I brought them just in case—take one later. And... yes, Bi-ju hyung.”

“Could I help Mrs. Kang prepare lunch...?”

“No, you can’t. You’re essential personnel.”

Bi-ju pouted.

Ri-hyeok’s sidelong, chilly glance swept over us and landed on me.

“Why aren’t you saying anything, sir?”

“You wouldn’t listen anyway.”

Chung-hyun beside me mumbled ‘Woo-joo hyung is smart.’

“But still, say something.”

“No.”

“Hurry up and speak. You never know.”

“I know you’re just waiting to see me refuse.”

He froze.

“Ah... no. That’s something you can’t know.”

His tangled words proved his point.

While the others stifled laughter, Ri-hyeok clicked his tongue in annoyance.

Soon we rolled up our sleeves and gathered in front of the shelves, hands clasped.

“One, two, three—”

“Hello...?”

We reflexively bowed to each other, then froze awkwardly.

“...?”

This isn’t it.

While the camera director and writers played a laugh-holding challenge, we cleared our throats and joined hands again.

“One, two, three—”

“Fighting!”

With bravado we began sorting the shelves, and the veteran singer cheered us on.

“Cheer up, Mr. Non-Alcohol and your lackeys.”

Then he tapped the table with his chair.

“Ri-hyeok, come sit here. A person who uses their brain must sit and direct.”

“Yes, Teacher.”

Teacher No Jae-hyun’s gentle voice continued.

“I hear young people these days call teachers ‘ssam’ instead of ‘Teacher.’ Feel free to.”

“Yes, Ssam.”

“Sit down quickly. This spot is perfect for supervision and scolding.”

“No, Teacher.”

Ri-hyeok spoke firmly.

“I don’t see this as scolding. It’s constructive advice to create a clean environment.”

“Indeed. Very true. Kekeke.”

Watching this dream duo, we trembled silently.

PBS Variety Department Office.

Main PD Baek Seong-hyun of Challenge, Masterpiece Discovery! was reading text reports.

News that the cast were talking with the original composers.

“Lisa”

– Visited a cafe near the elementary school where the original composer of the children’s song ‘Dorong-dorong’ teaches. The composer is a musical fan, so they had a warm conversation.

“Cha Woo-hyun”

– The original composer seemed a bit intimidated by Mr. Cha Woo-hyun’s aura. He took off his sunglasses on purpose, but that made him even scarier. No other notable points.

“Song Bo-hyung”

– In the middle of a stormy chat with the original composer about how pitiful stray cats are. They already talked about the song earlier.

He nodded as he checked messages from the assistant director and writers.

Most were pleasant.

But...

“Jo Yuri Band”

– In a tug-of-war over the direction of the arrangement with the original composer. The composer seemed slightly upset. Atmosphere is smooth but will need separate editing.

The PD frowned.

‘This is really...’

The Jo Yuri Band had been brought in by the Variety Director’s strict order to include teams who stir up some friction.

They were talented.

Polite to the staff.

But their tendency to generate trouble with others was a problem.

‘...This is bad.’

He couldn’t just bash them—they came via the Director’s recommendation.

But it kept getting on his nerves.

Masterpiece Discovery! wasn’t a program to watch competitors tear each other apart.

It was designed to be warm for viewers.

If there’s a character who causes conflict like this, no matter how skilled, it’s problematic.

And there’d been their nastiness toward other participants before, too.

‘Should I give them a warning?’

He shook his head.

‘No.’

It felt absurd as a PD to tell someone “stop being nasty” on screen.

They’d see the first episode and tone it down themselves.

Just then, his phone buzzed again.

“New Black”

– Decided to create a new melody on the spot with the original composer.

Baek PD’s eyes lit up.

‘They keep producing interesting stuff.’

He hadn’t had high expectations for New Black at first.

He’d thought, ‘What promising new idol group is out there?’ and discovered this boy group.

Good visuals, good skills.

He’d brought them in thinking they’d generate some good footage, but now they were quietly emerging as dark horses.

‘They were impressive during recording...’

During the talk selecting the masterpiece, Woo-joo had been active everywhere.

He’d even changed the editing direction.

He was so enthusiastic about discussing songs that his love for the music industry shone through.

He couldn’t guarantee what viewers’ reactions would be, but those small on-air moments could win public affection.

‘Maybe it’s just my imagination...’

It felt like they might really take off.

That would be good for the network, too.

As Baek Seong-hyun reviewed reports on New Black, his phone buzzed again.

“...Hm?”

What now?

– They’re doing the shelf organizing now. Ri-hyeok is called the cleaning genius.

– Jung-hyun lifted the entire shelf by himself. The others dusted underneath. They thought he was a professional duster.

– The maknae’s aegyo earned him some rations from the teacher.

– A member tried to play the recorder, then got scolded by the others.

– Bi-ju and Mrs. Kang are watching a soap opera in the kitchen and bonding. Now they’re testing the cooking.

Baek PD blinked.

“...?”

He didn’t know the details, but he was certain something strange was happening all the way in Jeju.

When the shelf organizing finished, we came outside.

“Ouch.”

I rubbed my back.

At the start I’d dismissed the task of organizing books as no big deal, but it was really hard work.

The cool Jeju breeze dried our sweat.

“But it’s nice to be outside. The weather’s great, too.”

“Indeed.”

“It’s liberation—!”

Ji-ho spread his arms, basking in the sun.

Clack, clack.

And Jung-hyun was steering the handcart by its handle.

“Jung-hyun, isn’t that tiring?”

“It’s manageable. Just a mild workout for my muscles.”

We were now moving the remaining heavy loads to a distant spot, then heading back.

Since the cameras were filming Teacher No Jae-hyun and his attendant Ri-hyeok inside, we had a bit more freedom.

Bi-ju peeled a tangerine and called out to Jung-hyun.

“Jung-hyun, want some tangerine?”

“Yes.”

“Catch!”

“Give me the tangerine.”

Bi-ju tossed it and Jung-hyun deftly caught and ate it.

It was a peaceful scene.

Meanwhile I took advantage of the break to play the ukulele I’d brought from Seoul.

“Bi-ju, how’s this one?”

“Hmm, I like them all... But I think Teacher’s preference matters most, right?”

“Hmm, you’re probably right.”

I nodded and played the ukulele softly.

It was late January.

A simple melody echoed along the quiet village path in Jeju.

Then Ji-ho pointed ahead and said:

“Jung-hyun hyung, there’s a bicycle coming.”

“Okay.”

Jung-hyun skillfully turned the handcart.

“Hiyah!”

But as the bicycle approached from the opposite direction, something strange happened.

The elderly rider saw us and widened his eyes in shock.

He looked as if he’d seen something he shouldn’t have, wobbling his bicycle so bad we all exclaimed “Whoa!”

“Watch out!”

“....”

He looked back at us as if we were ghosts.

We, waving, exchanged puzzled looks.

“Why is he acting like that?”

“Yeah. Why is he staring at us like we’re weird?”

“Maybe he’s wary because we’re strangers.”

We offered guesses, but the real reason remained a mystery.

The villager halted his bicycle, mouth agape.

He stared at the scene before him.

‘What, what is that?’

The three of us on the handcart sped off like a chariot in Ben-Hur, kicking up dust.

And up there we waved cheerfully, as if greeting an old friend.

‘Did I imagine it?’

He rubbed his eyes, but the sight remained.

A handsome man in a straw hat pulling a handcart.

Someone, handsome or beautiful, tossing tangerines like feeding carrots to horses.

A youthful figure with arms spread wide, basking in sunlight.

And a mysterious figure in a sun cap playing a strange mini guitar.

“...?”

The resident blinked, his confusion deepening.

‘Should I tell the village head? That these strange bachelors are roaming about?’