In This Life, The Greatest Star In The Universe

“Okay, one, two, three.”

At my cue the brothers opened their mouths.

The song started with a clap.

“Thank you~ Thank you~”

“Thank you for unblocking Ri-hyuk’s stomach~”

“.......”

While our kid kept his head bowed, Viju and I added harmonies.

We’d altered “congratulations” into a song.

The eight examinees who’d attended burst out laughing.

“Waaah—!”

“What’s with the ‘waaah,’ you humans!”

“Wooaaah!”

We finished amid all the clapping.

In that noisy, laughter-filled place I said,

“I heard you guys helped Ri-hyuk with his indigestion on CSAT day. Thank you so much.”

“Really, thank you. If he’d stayed blocked and ruined the test we would’ve come back and gotten totally scolded.”

We nodded.

“Ugh, just the thought is terrible.”

Junghyun shook his head, “horrible.”

I turned to the laughing examinees and continued.

“So as a token of thanks we invited you. Order whatever you want to eat today.”

The youngest shouted as if it were important.

“Except Hawaiian pizza!”

“Oh. Hawaiian’s out then.”

Laughter rippled through the pizza place.

A branch of a pizza franchise in Gangnam.

We’d rented the whole place during a slow hour and invited the people who’d unblocked Ri-hyuk’s stomach on exam day.

Originally we’d wanted to buy something more expensive, but they all protested it would be a burden. They said just pizza or chicken was fine.

“Is it good?”

“Yes, yes....”

“Eat a lot. Should I ask them to refill the cola?”

I spoke to the examinees across from us as they ate pizza, and each time they looked very embarrassed.

Viju poked my side with a laugh.

“Hyung, you’re going to give them indigestion.”

“I was just trying to talk....”

The third-year students across from us smiled awkwardly; maybe they were shy and felt uneasy around me and the boys.

Viju whispered,

“Hyung, you have that look like a dad who wants to get close to his son’s friends.”

“.......”

Apparently the too-benign smile had been the problem.

I silently bit into a potato pizza and the youngest beside me snorted and smirked.

I munched awkwardly, looking around, and each time they reacted.

“.......”

They all flinched at my face and glanced away, dropping pizza toppings.

“Am I kind of overwhelming...?”

“No, no, it’s not that....”

One student said,

“You’re just really handsome....”

“Oh my, thank you.”

“It feels so different from how you seem on TV.”

“Right? Spread the word to the other students about how you feel now.”

“And me? What about me?”

The youngest stuck his head out.

The student answering went “oh” and then looked between me and the youngest, changing to a hum of “hmm.”

“You’re handsome.”

“Ah, come on. You ruined my mood.”

I teased the youngest who grumbled “hmph,” and laughter spread.

The mood loosened quickly.

They’d been awkward with us at first but grew comfortable with our trivial banter.

That opened the floodgates for conversation.

“Did your stomach get really bad that day? Did you do okay on the test?”

At someone’s question Ri-hyuk wiped his mouth with a tissue and answered.

“No. I thought I’d done super well, but maybe because I felt off, it wasn’t great....”

“Ah...”

The students made sympathetic faces. Ri-hyuk continued.

“I bombed math because I didn’t study, but luckily I got top grade in Korean and English.”

A heavy silence fell.

Ri-hyuk laughed, “Ah.”

“Korean history too.”

“You did really well...”

“I guess studying a bit here and there during schedules paid off.”

The students eating pizza smiled with a kind of self-deprecating look, thinking, “While he was like that I....”

“Oh, right.”

One of the students opened his backpack and said,

“When I reviewed Korean history, I used the summary materials from that History Exploration site.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. The history teacher said it’s better than EBS and distributed it to the whole grade.”

“Krrr.”

We felt proud.

Ri-hyuk, cheeks flushed, signed the History Exploration summary booklet with a personal autograph, and we all laughed.

When the topic shifted we asked some questions.

“What’s popular at school these days?”

“Uh.”

“TNT? TeenSpirit?”

They looked at each other, then answered,

“NewBlack.”

“......?”

“NewBlack’s really popular at our school. During breaks some kids do the Nine dance.”

“Oh....”

We looked surprised and they muttered, “We thought you’d already know...,” then told us that at next year’s retreat everyone would probably perform ‘Nine’ in talent shows.

I turned to the brothers.

“Guys.”

“Hyung....”

“We made it...!”

We clasped hands and felt moved, and the kids sipping cola laughed.

After the popularity talk people asked more.

“Hey, what about that SWAT thing at the test site—did they really take him without telling him?”

“How do they film variety shows?”

We answered their questions about the entertainment industry and broadcast sites. They were fascinated and went “ooooh” even while eating pizza.

While chatting we also brought out questions we’d prepared.

“What kind of music do you listen to these days?”

“Music?”

“Yes. Like, what do you hear around you, what’s popular?”

“Lately it’s the Nostalgic OST.”

When we asked for other answers they said “Nine.”

In the end, excluding our own songs, we asked what songs were trending. It was a precious opportunity: the ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) people around us were the general public, not industry insiders.

A&R and producing team people are industry veterans with odd tastes. Managers and staff know songs you wouldn’t call “public” because they’re so deep into music shows.

“Seems like lots of electronic-feel songs are popular.”

“Yeah. They’re fun to listen to.”

I asked the one twirling spaghetti.

“Then is there a song you want to hear these days? Anything like that?”

“Hmm...”

The students thought, then said,

“Something calm.”

“Checking the charts lately it’s all either heavy club tracks or ballad OSTs.”

“Like calm songs that suddenly burst?”

A calm track—hard to reflect in idol dance-heavy activities, I thought, then someone’s voice cut through clearly.

“Maybe because it’s winter, we want winter songs.”

“Hm?”

They sat up and asked.

“Winter songs?”

“Yes. Because it’s winter.”

“You mean love songs that come out in winter? Like, ‘When winter comes I think of you’?”

“No.”

They answered decisively.

“Not love songs. Just songs that feel like winter.”

Everyone laughed at the “I hate love songs” reaction.

A winter seasonal track—what a good idea.

Holding internal meetings is fine, but sometimes hearing strangers’ opinions like this is refreshing and useful.

We chatted, then left the pizza place. It was a chilly November day.

As people tightened their paddings and coats, we handed envelopes from the managers to the students.

“This is a gift from us.”

“Wow. Thank you.”

“It’s cold, so get home safe. Good luck with your college applications.”

“Thank you!”

As we waved to leave, someone asked,

“Can I post this on Facebook?”

“Um....”

It seemed okay, but I glanced at the managers and got an OK sign.

“Yeah. You can.”

“Thank you! I’ll brag about this at school.”

“Please promote us well.”

We smiled at the modestly delighted faces.

Soon the students who’d attended began posting selfies with NewBlack on their SNS.

Photos of the gifts—fountain pens, blankets, eco-bags—appeared too.

Public posts immediately caught Souffles’ attention and spread across communities.

“lolllll what’s up with the gift set”

“That blanket lol how do you even use it”

“You’d never use that lol”

“They basically attacked them with gifts”

“It does look really warm though”

“Isn’t that fountain pen expensive?? dang”

“Given how much they earn that’s pocket change lol”

While posts like “A common penitent idol repays favors.jpg” circulated, entertainment reporters quickly picked up the story.

“NewBlack meets students who helped a member on CSAT day... ‘Heartwarming’”

“‘Thank you’ NewBlack showers students who unblocked Ri-hyuk with gifts”

“‘Top-tier fanservice’ NewBlack’s meeting with students makes headlines”

As the CSAT day incident turned into a warm tale online, the high-school students who’d seemed shy were now promoting the event.

In a school hallway.

“Pfft!”

“That’s hilarious. Who is that?”

“Isn’t he the funny kid from class 3?”

One student marched proudly in a blanket printed with NewBlack members’ faces like Mount Rushmore.

His friends going to the bathroom sighed.

“Take that off!”

“Everyone from the other classes is roasting you as you walk by. Hey, take it off.”

“No no.”

The wearer flicked his finger.

“I don’t hear you, Black.”

“What kind of shitty tone is that—”

“From now on we’ll add ‘NewBlack’ at the end of every sentence, Black.”

“.......”

“Sometimes New—”

A kid said “New” like a squeak.

At the bathroom the wearer folded his cape-blanket and offered it to a friend.

The friend frowned.

“Again? You jerk.”

“This place is filthy. Hold it here and stand by, Black.”

“.......”

“Ahhh! My precious blanket!”

The friend grabbed his collar and the kid wailed.

At other schools where students received gifts it was similar. After school in PC cafes high-school seniors changed nicknames.

“Change your ID!”

“My choice.”

“Really. If you keep ‘NewBlack oppas destroy the earth’ I’ll delete you.”

“...but you say ‘you go wahawa’.”

Soon a student named “NewBlack is lit” queued into a team game and hammered the keyboard with every kill.

“Do you know NewBlack?”

“They’re insane”

“You don’t know? Die then lol”

Mad shouts flew and students who’d just finished the CSAT were helping broaden NewBlack’s visibility in strange, frantic ways.

The CSAT-day meeting with students seemed to spread to many places.

Han Tae-hyun: “Excuse me for a moment.”

Han Tae-hyun: “How much is that NewBlack blanket?”

Han Tae-hyun: “Would four people want to buy together?”

People around wanted blankets printed with our faces.

When someone asked if my printed blanket was for sale and I said there was no stock, they looked sad, so I gave them a NewBlack logo trivet.

Meanwhile, we heard there’d almost been an ad.

“Stomach-medicine commercial?”

“Yeah.”

Our manager said,

“Because the story about that drink Ri-hyuk had spread, some people suggested quickly shooting something viral for online. They thought a short thing might be cheap.”

“And?”

“They didn’t know your market rate. Once the advertiser heard the exact ad fee they didn’t contact us again.”

We laughed at the advertiser running off.

With back-to-back hits and rising variety recognition, our price had shot up so advertisers ran away.

Around the concerts some companies tried to haggle, but now only major advertisers approached—or ones who ran screaming, “NewBlack! Work with us... aaah!” and fled.

“Well, we’re also in talks with a duty-free shop recently.”

“Ooh.”

Hearing that we were negotiating to be a promo model for a duty-free shop that usually only hires Hallyu stars made us gasp.

The manager smiled.

“Seeing the ads and events coming in for you guys makes my heart race.”

“We’ll keep making it race.”

After a brief explanation from the manager about North and South American fan meetings in November, we headed to the studio.

“Come, sit in the honored seat.”

We put Ri-hyuk in the seat of honor in the studio.

Since he’d be the central figure for the next album, his opinion mattered most.

“Got any ideas already?”

“Um....”

We said,

“No skipping dance.”

“No saying ‘let’s do a song with crazy high notes’.”

“No doing just vocals without rap.”

“...You said your opinion is most important. Guys.”

Ri-hyuk looked bewildered; we laughed and waved our hands.

“Just kidding. Just kidding.”

“.......”

“So what do you want to do?”

Ri-hyuk rummaged in a NewBlack eco-bag and handed something over.

A 14-page A4 titled “Next title track plan.”

He told us to read it, and we scrutinized it.

“Wow, you used fourteen pages to say you don’t want to dance in different words.”

“Shouldn’t we give him some respect for this?”

“Dancing’s that hard, Ri-hyuk?”

At Viju’s question Ri-hyuk scratched the back of his head and avoided our eyes.

“Well, it’s not that hard.”

The main vocal looked at us.

“Honestly, we haven’t had a proper chance to showcase our vocals. We did at Music Cafe, but that was other senior singers’ songs.”

“Right.”

“This time I’d like us to properly show vocals.”

“But you did that with Baramkkot?”

I asked; he replied earnestly.

“Check Mango. Baramkkot is still classified as a dance song.”

“It is a dance track.”

Baramkkot was planned as a vocal song at first but leaned toward trendy pop and, as an idol title track, it naturally emphasized dance.

“If we go vocal, Souffles might not like it—especially if it’s a ballad.”

“I know that.”

Our musical color and ballads don’t match well.

“But there are so many unreleased songs that are really good. Tens are sitting on the hard drive.”

“Ah, right. There are so many that are a shame not to use.”

Viju agreed.

He meant the unreleased tracks on my studio computer—good songs, but awkward as idol songs, so they were stored on the hard drive.

I nodded and asked.

“So you want to polish those and release them?”

“Yes. Not ballads but something that brings out our vocal color, and...”

He added,

“When I met those students who helped me, they said something like that.”

“Oh. The winter song.”

“Seasonal songs could work. Also, we’ve built an ‘artist’ image thanks to Music Cafe, so maybe we can solidify that with the next song.”

Since Music Cafe had shown the public that “these guys are musicians,” he suggested making that our next move.

“Hmm....”

I pondered while the youngest spoke.

“But if we make a vocal track the title, wouldn’t that be weird? We’re an idol group first.”

He was right. Ri-hyuk’s intention was good, but making the next full album like that would be risky.

A one-off event could work, but an album with huge budgets can’t be gambled like that.

Ri-hyuk said,

“What about a digital single? Comeback’s in spring, so release a winter single as a trial.”

A digital single—releasing a song online instead of a physical album.

Make the single’s cover blue, and the spring comeback album center on me in purple.

“I thought that too...”

I pointed to our albums on the studio shelf.

“Then the colors in that rainbow show up.”

“.......”

“Souffles are collecting them hard. If we suddenly change the color pattern, they’d be miffed.”

The youngest said and we all laughed.

But we wrestled with the idea.

“It’s a good idea...”

Releasing a distinctive winter digital single could fill the gap before the spring comeback, given the Japan tour early next year.

But our series of color-themed releases would feel off if we inserted an outlier.

“I should talk with Director Jo about this.”

These days we produce a lot ourselves, but thorny matters like this should go to our executive producer, Director Jo Gyu-hwan.

“After I talk with Director Jo.”

I opened my diary.

“It’d be better to hear various people’s opinions rather than just our own meeting.”

“Right. I think so too.”

“Should we invite some people from the A&R team to work with us?”

The brothers nodded with happy smiles.

The A&R staff we told flashed happy faces and picked up the phones.

A little later.

Phones dotted around began to ring.

“Oh.”

“Oh ho....”

“Oh my.”

Men and women of all ages smiled at what they heard on the other end.

“Ay, that’s nice.”

“When should we schedule the meeting?”

“Um. Hold on. Let me check the schedule.”

People introduced to NewBlack through veteran singer Noh Jae-hyun grinned from ear to ear.

“They really want to work with us.”

“Oh, great.”

Among those people was Ha Seung-ju, a composer and Music Cafe host who smiled more brightly than anyone.

“This could be fun.”

Remembering NewBlack’s impromptu composing from last time, music people brimmed with expectation.