In This Life, The Greatest Star In The Universe

At first I thought I’d misread it.

“No.”

Rihyeok frowned and said, “Two minutes thirty seconds is hardly enough to do a whole song properly. You’d have to cut more than a minute out of the original.”

“We can rearrange it. It’s not like we’re the only ones getting two minutes thirty seconds.”

I laughed and patted the kid whose ears were red.

Two minutes thirty seconds.

In fact, for idols not from the Big Four, getting only about two minutes of solo stage time at year-end festivals was common. Even Scarlet usually got two to three minutes except for joint stages.

Still...

“Isn’t this a little much? It’s way different from the other broadcasters.”

“Exactly.”

On PBS and TBC, our solo spots had been at least seven minutes each. It was strange that only one station chopped us to a third. There had to be a reason, and one thing immediately came to mind.

“Could it be because of that?”

Viju said, “They wanted us for Season 2 of the History Exploration Team last time, but we refused.”

I thought the same. After the History Exploration Team blew up on MiTube, HBS had proposed a Season 2. We turned it down because they tried to profit unilaterally.

“But didn’t they say that problem got settled? That only the MiTube department was sulking for a bit?”

“That’s true, but a few issues piled up this time.”

Seokhwan hyung clicked his tongue. “The History Exploration Team thing got patched up, but other things happened since.”

“Really?”

“They haven’t trickled down to you guys, but there were variety appearances and business deals that didn’t pan out.”

We leaned in to listen to this news for the first time.

“So, you hit big ratings on PBS with the Classic Ensemble. You broke fifteen percent easily.”

“That’s true.”

“On TBC, Uju’s appearance on ShinTokki made waves. ‘Men on the Go’ had huge ratings.”

The maknae blinked. “So what does that have to do with this?”

“They started seeing you like a ratings guarantee and kept trying to slot you into their variety shows.”

“Ohhh.”

“We turned them all down.”

When I wondered why we’d refuse broadcast variety offers that would ordinarily be good to take, Seokhwan hyung handed over the variety show plans.

“Take a look. There’s a reason I cut it at my level.”

“My Way Quiz?”

We flinched as we scanned the proposals. It was the kind of format that read: “If you fail the quiz, the chair flies into the sky and plunges into the pool! Hot!” It smelled like early-2000s crassness.

“Is this a modern plan? It feels like a show I watched in elementary school...”

“Wow. Then I wasn’t even born yet.”

“This format tortures the cast way too much.”

We agreed with Viju’s displeased expression. Seokhwan hyung smiled warmly.

“So it failed.”

“Ah...”

“They barely lasted five episodes. The viewer boards were filled with curses and it was canceled.”

That ending made a strange kind of sense. Most of the HBS variety proposals Seokhwan showed us were similar—things I, even as a manager, would have refused with a “nope.”

“HBS pushed a lot in variety this year and wanted big results, but the output wasn’t great...”

“Yeah, it’s really bad.”

“But they still seem to think just inviting you as guests will fix everything—as if you’re a cheat code.”

We laughed and shook our heads at the idea of being a “variety cheat key.”

“Why would they think that? Us appearing doesn’t automatically make things great.”

“Right. We’re boring.”

“Honestly, even if we went on, it wouldn’t change much...”

Rihyeok trailed off, and we froze at the same time.

“.......”

Because an image formed in my head.

A chair launched into the air. Junghyun strapped to it, whooshing up, flipping and spinning on the chair and then—thud!—crashing down. Or maybe farting dramatically mid-air and then, at the “gik” point, dropping.

“Uh...?”

“Will that work...?”

I flinched looking at Junghyun while the younger members stared at me wondering what imaginations they were having.

“.......”

We decided not to ask each other what fantasies we’d pictured in order to preserve the cheerful team atmosphere. While we all looked awkward, the manager continued.

“Also, a major variety show fell through somehow, so the variety department is pretty sour. Other managers say they’re angry about the booking issues.”

“.......”

“And they’re jealous that your MiTube ‘NewBlack TV’ is doing tremendous numbers right now.”

I had a pretty good idea why we’d earned their ire. I wanted to say more but couldn’t, and the maknae muttered, “Adults are really petty.”

We burst out laughing at that, and half-relieved that the maknae seemed younger than them. I smiled and said, “Well, at least that mystery’s cleared up.”

“Right.”

As we said that, Seokhwan hyung adjusted his glasses and asked, “Are you okay?”

“I’m worried about the fans getting upset, but beyond that...not really.”

PBS and TBC’s year-end shows still had our solo stages for “Wind Flower,” “Nine,” and the Nostalgia OST; HBS had its year-end award show on Sunday afternoon with the Classic Ensemble special live broadcast scheduled. With the comeback prep on top of all that, the practice load was hefty. Honestly, I felt relieved that one stage requirement was gone. Of course, it was absurd that they’d told us to prepare two shows and then suddenly told us to do one.

“I’m embarrassed to say it out loud,” Rihyeok said, rubbing his ear, “but if I were the broadcaster, I’d actually want us to appear a lot.”

“Embarrassing as it is, I agree.”

Both title tracks this year had done well with the public, and the award-winning “Wind Flower” had been the most-streamed song in Korea this year. The Nostalgia OST still popped up on US radio and overseas TV. Then there was the Classic Ensemble’s rearranged performance. Producer Ha Seungju told us it would be hard to talk about this year’s music scene without mentioning us.

PBS and TBC weren’t handing out stage time because they liked us personally. They were giving it because we had three unskippable songs.

“.......”

From that perspective, HBS’s treatment was incomprehensible. It felt like a kid who used to ride a bike and hit people with a cane now jammed the cane into the spokes.

Normally, that’d be scary. If a station had done this last year, it would’ve felt menacing. But...

“Let that go; ignore it. It’s a bit disappointing, but...,” Seokhwan hyung stretched and said, “This is why being popular with the public is good. Last year we would have been trembling if one year-end stage got cut, but now the public knows you, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

We agreed. One of the year-end stage’s meanings was that non-idol ordinary people watched it, too. A few days ago at a mall event, a man in his fifties grabbed me and asked—

“Is it about life?”

“Life is hard...”

“I meant, ‘is it life?’ That’s the Classic Ensemble.”

“...Yes! That’s right! Why are you wavering?”

I shook off the laughter that had erupted around us. The younger members got misty-eyed as each remembered personal moments. The maknae said, “When we debut and get big I thought everyone at school would be jealous and say ‘wow,’ but I didn’t think we’d become the memes in the class chat.” We burst out laughing.

“Most of the memes are about you guys,” someone said.

“.......”

We pretended not to care about this teen trend we’d rather not know.

Seokhwan hyung then asked, “Also, we got a separate request about the year-end stages.”

“What is it?”

“PBS and TBC want to recruit idols to promote the year-end festivals.”

“Oh...?”

We were suddenly very interested.

“What kind of promotion?”

“They’ll hand out tickets to audience members, and there are short promo VCRs to shoot.”

“When do we do it? Shall we do it right now?”

Before the conversation finished, we were already fired up, and the manager smiled.

“Hello! Director! Writer!”

“Hi!”

Our fiery energy startled the producer and camera crew at PBS’s Year-End Festival. The writer said with a smile, “You’re extra energetic today.”

“We’ll work hard and go—!”

We harmonized the ‘go’ and the writer laughed. “Just do what you always do.”

Late at night, we arrived at an apartment complex in Incheon and looked around. Lighting crew and cameras trailed us as we walked to Building 109.

“Yes, NewBlack is here to deliver audience tickets for the PBS Year-End Festival!”

“Wooo!”

“We heard one of our fans lives here, so we’re going to surprise them!”

We tossed out lines for the VCR and moved to 109, asking the writer, “Aside from our fan, do the other family members know?”

“Yes. We contacted them in advance. They’re probably dressed and waiting.”

We exchanged excited looks. The Soufflé up there was probably muttering, “What? Who said to get dressed?” at their parents. The thought of surprising them made our hearts pound.

“Okay, Junghyun. Put it on.”

“Right, hyung.”

On the elevator ride up, Junghyun and I silently put on what we’d prepared from the envelope. The writer riding with us started to laugh silently.

Ding. “Ninth floor.” We stepped out and stood at the apartment door, finger to our lips. I nodded to the maknae. Masked up, the maknae pressed the doorbell with a delivery-person method acting.

“Who is it?”

“Chicken delivery.”

“Chicken? Mom, did we order chicken?!” the girl’s excited voice rang, and the door flew open. A high-school-aged girl froze.

“One, two, three!”

Junghyun in a chicken-leg hat and me in a pickled-radish plush hat popped out with a flourish and everyone greeted.

“Hello! We’re not chicken, but we’re NewBlack!”

“Huh—...”

The stunned girl put both hands to her mouth and took a step back. A younger brother shouted the same in the background. The parents, who’d known we were coming, covered their mouths and gasped. The family’s cuteness made us laugh.

“Can we come in?”

“P-please come in! Come! Mom! Get cushions! Where are the cushions?”

After a little commotion, we sat at the living room table. The siblings kept saying “awesome” as we took off our hats. The mother asked with a smile, “Can I give you something to eat?”

“Oh no, it’s fine. We shouldn’t eat much because we’re preparing the album....”

“Fruit should be okay. Want some?”

“Fruit...?”

“Fruit’s fine to eat, right?”

“Just a sec. Let me check if the manager came up too.”

When we looked around and said cheerfully, “We’ll eat!” the family laughed. The father handed a fruit knife; Viju offered to cut the pear. “Can I cut it? I like peeling fruit.” The Soufflé said, “This oppa peels it well,” and Viju, smiling, peeled the pear elegantly. “Ooh...!” Everyone admired the neat peel, and we all bit into pear, chatting.

“I’m Kim Dana, and this is Kim Dahun.”

“You both are fans of ours?”

“She recently became a fan. I used to go by PowerW Soufflé....”

A first-year high-schooler and a sixth-grader, the siblings both being Soufflé made us smile. Across from us, their giggling continued. Maybe because we kept our mouths closed while someone talked, they’d giggle /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ every time.

The father asked curiously, “If you’re going to eat, just eat. Why do you keep stopping and starting?”

“Oh, this might get picked up on someone else’s audio.”

“We’ve got tangerines sent from Jeju on the balcony; I’ll go get them.”

“Thank you!”

A mound of Jeju tangerines brought by the father made us shiver in happy anticipation.

“It tastes like Jeju’s air and sunlight live on the tongue.”

“We’ve been eating chicken breast and only bananas or cherry tomatoes.”

“It’s delicious. So good.”

Seeing us moist-eyed made the father laugh heartily. “Eat a lot. We have five boxes.” “Can we have more?” It felt indulgent, but we’d be practicing all night anyway. While eating tangerines, we chatted with the Soufflé: ages, hobbies.

“Is there anything you want to see?”

“Um, that move during the KMA where we gathered and danced in the middle...”

“Oh, that?”

For the downstairs neighbor’s eardrums, we omitted the jump and did a wave together. The Soufflé put their hands to their cheeks and the mother looked the most delighted.

During the ticket-delivery mission we focused on the most important people in the household.

“Do your parents... perhaps know us?”

“Of course they do.”

“Why wouldn’t they? You see us on TV every day. I saw the part where you went to the army and raised a dog.”

They said they often sang “Deoksun-ah” at karaoke, and we laughed, then pulled out the ticket envelope.

“You won a family ticket to the audience event. Your parents should come see us.”

“We’ll be doing trot with the Classic Ensemble seniors.”

With curious faces, they accepted the tickets, and I asked, “Is there a song you two like?”

“‘Delivery of the Flower of Love’? We used to listen to it when we were deeply in love.”

“Let me borrow your phone for a second...”

I borrowed the father’s phone and handed it to Junghyun. Switching to video mode, we framed everyone and began matching notes.

Aah—

To the parents who raised such wonderful Soufflés—

The two fans buried their faces in the sofa in embarrassment while their parents laughed. We laid a classic, old-film-style narration over it:

Kim Yonghun and Sung Yumi—

Inhale wealth, exhale health—

Wishing your parenting crop a huge bounty—

Delivery of the flower of love—

The Soufflés hid their faces in the sofa while their parents laughed as we sang. After the song, we gave them the saved video, and they were delighted.

“Please come see us.”

“We’ll come.”

With the parents’ happy agreement, the maknae went to the door to retrieve the chicken and came back with a bewildered look.

“Chicken’s here...?”

“Oh, I ordered it. We came as chickens but I thought they might be disappointed if there was no actual chicken.”

Two hot Hoho Chicken boxes with a chicken thumbs-up mascot brightened the family’s expressions. While they were distracted by the chicken, I signaled to the younger members and whispered something. We decided to end the VCR filming there. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

As the PBS staff packed up, the family asked, “Stay and eat.”

“No, no. We really can’t eat this...”

We waved them off. As other families left, I called Kim Dana, the ticket recipient, to the entrance. Her face flushed as if with embarrassment and I smiled, “Long time no see.”

“Huh?”

“It’s been almost a year, I think. You came to our first fan sign. We talked, remember?”

“...!”

She widened her eyes. We hadn’t mentioned it on camera, but I’d recognized her the moment I first saw her.

“You said something silly about watching the World Cup when you were four, and I was really embarrassed about it.”

“How did you remember that...?”

“When someone says something, it sticks in my ear and doesn’t leave.”

We laughed and handed her the gift envelope we’d planned to give at the end. “Thanks for supporting us since then.”

“It’s so nice to see you again.”

“.......”

“Why are you crying?”

It was as if tears rose up in real time on a scale like a river swelling after rain. Thud! She dropped the envelope and began sobbing loudly. We panicked.

“No, if you drop that—”

“Oh. It popped.”

Cream from a cake oozed out onto the entrance floor. Zzzz. “Hey! Daegil! Where are you going?”

A robot that had been inside the box must have powered on; the black-goat robot’s red eyes flashed and it started to clomp around.

“What’s this? What’s going on?”

The family, stunned, approached. The sobbing Soufflé and our flustered faces, and the black-goat robot walking out with cream footprints left everyone in hysterics.

“No, we didn’t do anything.”

The staff and families packing up burst out laughing as we frantically waved our hands. But no one believed us.

Soon the video appeared on MiTube.

[2015 PBS Year-End Festival — ‘NewBlack’s Ticket Delivery Mission!’ (feat. Tangerines)]

The thumbnail shouted in green: “Ate 40 tangerines?!” and showed us stuffing tangerines into our mouths. Forty, huh—us. It was embarrassing, but the view count was high and that mattered.

The TBC year-end video had similar traction; both teams’ reps wore grins that showed far more teeth than usual.

“No wonder I’ve seen our name used to clickbait on MiTube a lot lately.”

“Right. Like a trusted watchable name.”

We suspected they were trying to gin up views, but that HBS had to be envious after seeing the high view counts made us proud.

Maybe the promotion worked because our TJ Ent. channel had five million subscribers and the MiTube channels had even more. As we surfed the web, the car we were in slowly slowed.

“We’re here, guys!”

“Yes!”

The PBS broadcast building in Yeouido appeared at the photo line. It was December 25. It was the MusicOn Christmas special and the day of the pre-release carol stage.