In This Life, The Greatest Star In The Universe

“Your occupation?”

“Yes, I figured you’d have to be in a field that uses some strength... like sports, for instance.”

The doctor asked.

“Have you ever done any sports?”

“In elementary school, I was on the baseball team.”

“No—why did you quit that?”

“I prefer acting on my own, so I didn’t really fit into team life. The coach tried to stop me from leaving, though.”

“Ah...”

The doctor sighed deeply. I asked him,

“Why do you say that?”

“If you’d stuck with baseball, by now we’d be seeing you on TV in a uniform. Given your physical condition, I’d wager you’d have been the first pick in the draft...”

“How about farming?”

At Junghyun’s earnest question, the doctor shook his head.

“I don’t mean to belittle farming... but devoting a body like yours solely to farming feels like a national waste.”

“Is it that significant?”

“It would’ve been the same in any discipline. You’d be on TV anywhere you went. Even if you farmed, some show like ‘Oh My Goodness, Look at That!’ would feature you.”

Automatically, in my head, a special report popped up: “Young Farmer Kim’s Mysterious Secret Revealed...?”

Mysterious rocks piling up in a rural clearing.

While Rihyuk exclaims, “This is... Baekje–era style!” hidden cameras reveal the secret.

Handsome straw-hat farmer “Kim Junghyun, ♂, 21” moving rocks around at night just for fun.

Honestly, it fits.

We all nodded in agreement with the doctor.

“We always say among ourselves that Junghyun should have gone to Taereung.”

“When this guy crushed a PET bottle with a head flick, the fans wouldn’t believe us when we said we were exaggerating.”

“He’s the kind of person who lifts the entire bookshelf if something gets stuck behind it.”

At our testimony, the doctor nodded knowingly.

“Now, as you can see here...”

“Uh, where’s here? Just a moment.”

We pushed the two chairs we were sitting on, one atop the other, to roll closer.

Screech. Screech.

Five pairs of legs moved like spiders, inching forward, and the doctor patiently waited.

The nurse and crew flexed their cheeks and pursed their lips.

“We’re ready to listen.”

“As you can see, Mr. Kim Junghyun’s muscles are far superior to those of an average person.”

“Ooh...”

I had no clue what he meant.

“Put simply, the quality of his muscle is outstanding. A case like this comes up maybe once in ten thousand people, and—how much do you weigh now?”

“Sixty-six, but I’m cutting down to about sixty-four.”

“Sixty-four? At your height?”

For a moment, he glanced at us as if to ask, “Can you even live a normal life?” At the mention of an average weight of sixty, the nurse behind him widened her eyes.

It felt like they were more amazed by our weights than by Junghyun’s unique body.

Junghyun said calmly,

“Living proves you can live.”

“Ooh...”

The doctor, impressed by the aphorism, coughed and continued.

“In any case, he can exert force up to the limit possible at his current weight. Naturally, conditioned athletes would outperform him, but he’s probably the strongest in his weight class.”

“As expected...”

We nodded in agreement, and then Rihyuk asked,

“I’m curious about something.”

“Yes?”

“I once looked in a sports medicine book, and it said qualitative differences in muscle are minimal—that strength is determined by cross-sectional area or neuromuscular memory.”

“That’s correct.”

“Aren’t all muscles the same? Why only his muscles...”

We cheered Rihyuk on, shouting “Go on, go on!”

Prompted by our excitement, the doctor adjusted his glasses with a serious expression and asked,

“Hmm... I can explain that too, but it’s a bit technical for television.”

“I still want to hear it.”

We nodded eagerly.

“We’d like to hear it, too.”

“Challenge!”

“We love science.”

Encouraged by our bright eyes, the doctor beamed and began.

“Then...”

[ TBC ‘A Man’s Journey’ Part 3 – Post-Credit Scene ]

Five of us sat doubled up on two round swivel chairs as the doctor’s enthusiastic explanation continued.

Doctor: First, I need to talk about hormones. You’re familiar with hormones, right?

Jiho: Environmental hormones...?

Bijoo: Secondary sexual characteristics...?

Doctor: (at a loss)

Soon Rihyuk understood the explanation and the doctor focused his lecture on him.

[▶▶ 3x speed]

With a “fast-forward” ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) caption, the doctor’s explanation and Rihyuk’s enthusiastic nodding appeared.

Like a professor and an undergrad.

Thrilled by his own rapid-fire lecturing, the doctor muttered on while the camera caught shots of the other members.

NewBlack Member: (blinks)

At first they smiled widely, but after a minute their smiles grew stiff.

After another minute, their cheeks trembled.

Three minutes later, the NewBlack members, still seated, struggled to keep their eyelids from closing.

Brahms’s “Lullaby” played in the background, like a music box, as the members stared wide-eyed.

Meanwhile, Rihyuk and the doctor were in a soulful symbiosis.

Doctor: Finally...

Thinking it was the last explanation, the laughing NewBlack members applauded.

Uju: Wow~ Incredible and amazing!

Jiho: So Junghyun hyung’s body is made of that stuff!

Bijoo: So that’s what it was!

But it wasn’t over.

The doctor cleared his throat and, like a principal giving a speech, continued his “final” explanation.

Doctor: There was a man in America named Dennis Rogers. I believe he’s a similar case to Mr. Kim Junghyun.

NewBlack: Oh. Senior Rogers.

The eager members of NewBlack widened their eyes again at the continued medical details.

Over Bijoo’s dazed face, a 1970s hit played as background music.

“I don’t know about that~ I know nothing~”

The sleepy faces of the NewBlack members were cut together, ending finally on Junghyun’s blank expression.

When the explanation concluded, Rihyuk and the doctor shook hands while everyone else gave seal claps.

As we left the room, the camera approached our faces.

“Q. How was it?” they asked, and the NewBlack members grinned and bounced.

Uju: It was exactly the information I wanted! A very enlightening time. Right?

Others: Waaa!

Rihyuk: Did you actually listen properly?

Others: Waaa!

Ignoring him, we all shouted, “Junghyun’s body is the best!” and the post-credit scene ended.

After uncovering Junghyun’s body secret, we visited our usual hair salon to style ourselves for the new album.

And we finally got the news we’d been longing for.

“Wow...!”

Flopping on the salon sofa, we saw the link from the promotions team and got excited.

An official SNS post announcing concert tickets.

We slapped hands in joy as the poster filled the tablet screen.

“This is awesome, right?”

“Isn’t the poster gorgeous? Oh my, it’s already getting so many likes. I need to like it, too.”

“Hyung, when the physical posters come out, why don’t we put one in the studio, the practice room, the dorm, and the company lounge?”

Bijoo’s suggestion showed how stunning the poster was.

It had an American retro amusement-park vibe in vivid red, yellow, and blue, with us standing as if we’d come to play.

“Wow...”

Even seeing it on screen made my heart pound.

Perhaps more than before our debut.

Maybe because it’s five thousand attendees per show.

I still can’t imagine it.

Five thousand Soufflés gathering like a festival in Olympic Park to see us, each holding a Kim Bongdal and getting paper wristbands.

“Can’t imagine it? Just multiply the two thousand we saw at the showcase by 2.5.”

“You fish-brain weirdo. You don’t get it.”

“I do.”

Of course I did.

The tablet was vibrating because someone was bouncing their leg.

When I stared, someone blamed it on the air conditioner.

“It’s not even on~?”

“...”

“It’s really off~?”

“...!”

Provoked by the maknae’s taunt, a war broke out.

Watching the two of them throw feathery punches, the hyungs smiled warmly.

“How do those punches look so... painless?”

“They don’t even dodge, but they barely graze each other.”

“Seriously. Getting paper-cut by a poster probably hurts more than their punches.”

Shaking my head at the maknae, I monitored the Soufflés’ reactions on screen.

“Hm... reactions are split.”

“I thought they’d love it.”

“Guess they feel differently.”

Though most reactions were positive, many worried we were being overworked.

With our busy schedules piling on concert prep and album work, fans understandably feared for our health.

Last year’s year-end stage was almost as busy.

Feeling sorry for our concerned fans, I said,

“We’re fine...”

“How about a selfie to show we’re okay?”

We all grinned and posted a selfie saying “Ppui!” A comment popped up:

– If Kyuho’s watching, wave a carrot.

– If there’s no carrot, wave Rihyuk...

Laughing at matching that with our maknae’s carrot-colored hair, we watched as one by one our younger members sat down for their salon turns, excitement on their faces.

This time, everyone went with color: Bijoo chose wine red, Junghyun dark brown, Rihyuk blue-black, the maknae bleached blonde again.

And me...

“Stylist.”

“Yes?”

I asked, as she meticulously trimmed my hair in the salon chair.

“Does this hurt a lot?”

“Yes.”

“Then that won’t do.”

“Uju, your hair is very hard to lighten. Others bleach once or twice; you need three times.”

“...”

Ash gray, I think she called it.

I wanted a vivid floral color, but A&R fiercely opposed it, saying, Why ruin a perfect vocal path yourself?

Considering our new hair was going ashy, it felt ironic.

Honestly, a bright pink would’ve been prettier.

“Right, stylist?”

“....”

She hummed and pretended not to hear, while chart-topping songs played in the salon and “Windflower” remained at number five.

Feeling a bit uneasy that our previous title was such a hit, I wondered if we’d set too high a bar.

“Uju, how do you feel?”

“Good.”

Facing Mingi’s camcorder, I danced in the salon gown.

“But where will you post this?”

“This is for our MyTube album-making vlog.”

“Oh! Hello, MyTube viewers!”

“Uju...”

At the stylist’s pleading glance, I sat up straight. Mingi grinned and asked,

“How’s it? Does it hurt?”

“No. Well, this much...”

I bragged, and she smiled and said,

“I haven’t even applied the bleach yet.”

“...”

True pain began soon after.

As bleach sessions continued and I trembled all over, the maknae laughed, but I had no time to care.

It felt like being submerged in an icy river all winter.

“Uiiieeaa...”

“Hurts, doesn’t it? When I dyed, you mocked me for no bleach.”

“Uiiiee! Uii!”

I stuck my hand out from under the gown and waved it, and the maknae cackled.

Bijoo flashed a bright smile.

“Endure it for the fans, hyung.”

“Uiiiee!”

“Huh? You’d do anything for the fans?”

“Ahii! Don’t talk to me!”

It hurts like crazy!

MV filming set.

Props are arranged before a dreary concrete-tone city backdrop and green screen.

While stretching out our tense bodies, we huddled around our phones.

“Ta-da!”

– Ah, you scared me!

On the video call, our grandmother’s eyes went wide.

– How did your hair go from black to white overnight?

“Cool, right?”

– Well, any color would suit you... but move your face so we can see the other boys.

“Hmph.”

I tilted my head aside so my face took up half the frame, then showed the others.

– More.

“...”

When I stepped aside, the others shouted “Ta-da!”

“Grandma, hello!”

“How do we look?”

– Oh my! It’s so colorful I can’t focus.

Seeing our dyed hair, Grandma burst into hearty laughter.

Jiho said proudly,

“How is it? Doesn’t it make us look like delinquent teens? That’s this concept.”

– When did delinquency become defined by hair color?

“No, right?”

Our maknaes, who argued “Dye = delinquent,” widened their eyes.

“Do we look like we know how to have fun now?”

– Like if you shook a club like a sack, you’d bounce out.

– The hair color really pops.

Grandma narrowed her eyes, wondering how to explain.

– You guys should just give up...

“You?”

– Like a seven-year-old rebelling, you know.

We all cried tears.

No—it’s not like that.

Through the call, we tried to persuade her about our image, but she wouldn’t budge.

– Better to look gentle than like a fighting chicken.

“...Maybe.”

– Right.

“Right?”

She nodded regretfully.

Changing topics, she told us about tickets for the concert at the end of August and where our family would sit. She was thrilled.

Her cheeks flushed as she asked, “Can I dress nicely and go?”

“Grandma, we’re thinking...”

– Oh no, the stew is burning! Hang up!

Click.

“...”

“Why so abrupt?”

“We did keep you on too long...”

We stared at each other, then caught our reflections in a mirror in the corner of the set.

“Leather jackets.”

“Delinquent-teen hoodies.”

“Even the pants are slightly ripped.”

We looked like Delinquent Teens One through Five.

Passing by, Seokhwan hyung hit the nail on the head.

“Your default expressions are too gentle.”

“...”

“With those faces, even elementary kids wouldn’t be scared. You need makeup and stage acting to cover it.”

So we put extra effort into makeup.

Sitting in the dressing room chairs, we told the makeup artists with determined faces,

“This one looks like someone who knows how to party. Give us that vibe.”

They nodded, and thanks to their wholehearted work, we at least looked the part.

I asked Wonseok hyung, holding the camera,

“How do I look? Do I look like I know how to have fun?”

“Hmm. Yes.”

“What does ‘hmm yes’ mean? Be precise, hyung.”

He rolled his eyes, then cautiously answered,

“Like the top student going wild after college entrance exams...”

“Why is everyone like this?”

We protested, and managers and staff chuckled.

We glared at the jokers and began filming the MV.

Contrary to our worries, the shoot went smoothly.

“Okay. Great expressions!”

They’d teased that it didn’t match our usual image, but watching the footage, we did great.

When we looked at the staff, everyone was smiling.

“...They knew all along and were teasing us.”

Meanwhile, combining our prepared expressions and choreography made it convincing.

Whenever each of us got a close-up on the monitor, we’d flinch.

“Wow, Junghyun hyung’s expression was so scary.”

“I thought I looked scary, too.”

“When Uju hyung stretched his hand, I really flinched.” 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

Dancing under cold gray and neon lights, we looked rough—and we loved it.

The MV director agreed.

“You all nailed the concept. You really came across like fugitives.”

“Yes.”

We nodded.

This MV’s concept was a cyberpunk fugitive story.

Per Rihyuk’s suggestion, the set was a dystopian SF with dazzling neon signs.

Scenes of us hiding under neon lights, dancing in back alleys and on rooftops.

Everywhere was bathed in green neon.

We’d brainstormed with A&R how to highlight the album’s green color, and it turned out perfect for our futuristic sound.

“But... Uju really sold the expressions.”

One staff member pointed at me center-frame dancing, impressed with my dynamic facial expressions under the headband.

“I thought that really captured the MV vibe.”

“Really? I was thinking the same—when did Uju’s acting get this good?”

“Hyung, did you practice watching MyTube for this?”

I smiled and shook my head.

“No.”

“Then...”

I awkwardly smiled, and the others stared at me doing my arrogant grin from the MV.

After three seconds,

“Ah...!”

“Ah...”

We all exclaimed in unison.

Our eyes asked, ‘Right?’ ‘Right?’

While others tilted their heads, the members marveled at the screen again.

They'd realized whose expressions I’d used as reference—they matched another group’s habitual faces and vibes.

Though on the surface totally different, the feelings were similar.

“Hyung, something’s flashing behind you.”

“Oh, really.”

“I think I see huge letters—Jon...”

As I gestured, someone joked they saw “Jonna” shining behind me, and I burst out laughing.