In This Life, The Greatest Star In The Universe

“Industrial use?”

“Isn’t it for industrial use?”

“No... this is—”

Unsure how to explain, Junghyun lifted the light stick.

“This is a cheering light.”

“A cheering light?”

“Yes. It’s meant to be waved to give us energy while we work.”

“Oh, like in a factory...”

Ri-hyeok began to speak, then stopped and inhaled sharply; Jiho snickered. It wasn’t exactly wrong, but the man opposite certainly pictured swinging a light stick on a conveyor belt.

“Odd purpose...”

He scratched his forehead, the fisherman nodded.

“Now that I see your faces, they look familiar.”

“Yes, it’s us.”

All five lowered our masks and smiled; he exclaimed,

“Oh, it really is NewBlack.”

“Yes.”

“In this freezing weather, out here at dawn—why?”

“We came to make a wish.”

“Ah, you can just wish at home.”

Laughing together like neighbors, we chatted.

Thanks to collaborating with My Hometown, elders no longer reacted in surprise when they saw us—they treated us like grandchildren raised by the village.

“So this is a light stick?”

Jiho handed him one to examine.

“Yep—fans wave this to cheer us on: ‘You got this, you bastard, keep going!’”

“Oh...”

“Of course, these aren’t for sale— we made them special for today.”

We began pulling more from our bags. Viju started,

“Hyung, I suddenly forgot the name—these are... Wol-bong-i?”

“No. Kim Won-bong?”

“That’s an independence activist. No, Kim Seon... no, not Kim Bong-dal—Dal-bong-i!”

“Oh—Dal-bong-i.”

Recalling the original name, he recovered from his momentary Gestalt collapse.

We explained to the fisherman:

“These are the version you can buy.”

“Oh? What are they called?”

“Kim Dal-bong-i.”

He maxed out the brightness and said they were very useful.

“It’s better than a flashlight—spreads light like a torch.”

“Yes, yes.”

“And they’re cheap. Where can I buy them?”

“We have a goods shop. Shall I send you the address?”

Jiho tapped the URL into his phone and passed it to the fisherman. While Won-seok watched us wondering what kind of conversation this was, the fisherman called over another:

“Hey, Kim!”

“Why again?”

“Come quickly! There’s something amazing here!”

Other fishermen gathered with “Oho” expressions; we asked curiously,

“But what will you use these for? Squid fishing?”

“Can’t use them on the boat—sea water damages machinery all the time.”

“So...?”

“On the island, the paths at night are terrifying.”

The grim-faced men nodded, saying even a phone light isn’t enough to feel safe. Meanwhile, the fishermen with our goods-shop address were most interested in:

“Whoa...!”

“Where can I get one of these?”

“Wow, the light spins around! It’s like karaoke!”

The giant Dal-bong-i stick impressed them—especially its self-powered handle at the base, a dream come true. Each time we explained a feature, they marveled. Dal-bong-i clearly stirred desires of ownership. Even the CEO had two made, keeping one for himself.

“These aren’t for sale,” we reminded him, and when they asked to be told if they ever were, we laughed and agreed. As we headed back to our boat, they kept turning back to watch Dal-bong-i, reluctant to let it go. We called, “Catch lots of fish!” and swung our own Dal-bong-i sticks.

“Hyung, should we tell the company about Dal-bong-i?”

Junghyun asked.

“Supples have wanted them for ages—useless, but fun to have one.”

“Right. Should we propose it?”

“You’d have to downgrade the specs to meet cost requirements.”

Discussing Dal-bong-i’s potential for sale, we noticed seagulls soaring under the clear sky.

“Beautiful weather.”

“Indeed.”

At that moment, silence fell.

“The sky is bright...?”

“It really is...?”

“....”

“....”

Preoccupied with Dal-bong-i, we hadn’t noticed the sun rising. The managers, hands clasped, murmured prayers. As Mingi and Won-seok’s lips twitched in smiles, we quickly joined them.

“Hey! Make a wish! Make a wish!”

We gazed at the risen sun...

Flash—

Perhaps because it wasn’t the moment of sunrise, the sunlight shone as brightly as a hundred Dal-bong-i’s combined. We closed our eyes and made our wishes: for our families’ health and our Supples’ longevity.

“Since we’re wishing anyway, let’s go big.”

We all nodded and joined hands.

“Please help our album sell ten million copies.”

“Dear sun, please help us hold a concert at the main stadium someday.”

“I heard you must wish specifically—make our title track hit number one on global charts within ten years!”

At Junghyun’s words, Viju and I exchanged doubtful looks.

“But isn’t that arrogant? We’re not in charge of wishes.”

“Hmm, maybe.”

As we debated whether it was wise to anger the sun, the others made their own wishes.

“Let my name remain in history textbooks centuries from now. If not, at least me alone...”

“Help me succeed enough to fly in my own private jet—though management costs are shared, I’ll be the owner...”

Truly shameless wishes. We laughed among ourselves. The managers took a selfie with us before we faced the sun again.

“Time’s up.”

Whenever we made a wish, something strange happened—like the sky chiding us to get our consciences in order. Last time, the lantern we released burned up in flames. I’m not normally superstitious, but I’d changed a lot lately.

Sure enough, Junghyun pointed at the sky.

“Look—clouds are passing in front of the sun.”

“They are.”

“Hey! It’s shaped like a squid!”

We watched, stunned, as a squid-shaped cloud drifted before the sun, then burst into laughter. Its two holes looked like eyes declaring the Squid Princess’s revenge.

After returning from Ulleungdo, we rested for a day, then plunged into busy schedules.

“My whole body aches.”

“Agh...”

Having toured across the country, we felt drained even standing still. But we had pressing commitments.

“One, two, three!”

“Hello! We’re NewBlack!”

In the company hallway, we smiled and waved to cameras for KG Telecom. Officials filmed as I clasped my hands and beamed.

“Hello, KG Telecom subscribers! Enjoying the Lunar New Year?”

“It’s finally 2016! A hopeful new year has dawned!”

“Then please listen to our Safe—Safe—Safe Driving! Lunar Holiday Safety Campaign Song with us?”

Junghyun rapped “Watch the road—watch the road,” and we danced “No-no-no drowsiness!” The officials applauded in satisfaction.

“How was that?”

“Fantastic—quite enough? Thank you.”

We reviewed the footage with our siblings and I shook my head.

“Sorry, but we need one more take.”

“Understood!”

After several takes, the KG Telecom team left satisfied with the video.

“Next!”

This time, we filmed a New Year greeting to send.

“Hello, K-Net!”

“It’s already been a month into 2016—how are you spending the Lunar New Year?”

“New Year’s is a time to recharge your energy!”

“This year, K-Net has amazing programs lined up!”

After listing programs we smiled.

“And our NewBlack travel reality show is coming too!”

“Remember—remember—remember it well!”

“Have a bountiful Lunar New Year.”

Ri-hyeok and I then delivered the greeting in English:

“Happy New Year!”

They wanted to give that worldwide K-pop-broadcast feeling.

“Next! Let’s go!”

From the PBS New Year greeting to messages for MyTube and Y-app, requests poured in—shooting greetings took two hours. Though a holiday, idols’ busy season left no time to breathe. We had planned to dine with producer Ha Seung-joo after the album’s success, but we couldn’t even find time for a call.

– NewBlack to appear as panelists on PBS “Challenge Classics” Lunar Special

– TBC Lunar Pilot “Who Are You?” PD: “NewBlack to appear as special guests”

– TBC “Radio Time,” NewBlack: “Felt change in recognition after My Hometown appearance”

During homebound or return trips, we recorded a gentle radio talk. Most were pilot variety shows—special one-off New Year or Chuseok programs that, if successful, might become regular. Unlike established hits such as My Hometown or Mr. Producer, these relied on well-known celebrities to draw attention.

“How was the trip here? Welcome, NewBlack!”

At each TBC studio, PDs met us at the door.

“After three weeks of special album promotion, everyone knows our slogan.”

“Roasted sweet potato? Roasted chestnut?”

Audience members chanted “NewBlack!” as we waved. Our “Winter = NewBlack” imprint campaign had succeeded almost like brainwashing.

The MC spread his arms to the camera,

“This winter, NewBlack made a huge hit!”

“Yes, thanks to everyone’s love.”

“I love ‘Winter Sleep.’ Shall we hear a line?”

We even did a short performance on an amateur competition show. We appeared on karaoke variety shows—mostly TBC pilots. They were thank-you gestures for skipping the previous Olympics recording, which had seen many injuries that time. We were glad not to go: teammates slipped in a relay race and caused a pile-up.

LB /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ [If NewBlack isn’t here, Street Boy is king]

LB [I won this trophy with my cheering spirit]

Rex [Tree, get out]

LB [Why?]

Rex [Just step aside]

Y Geon [Own-goal in futsal... are they human?]

Han-jo [Not too far, maybe 400 meters away]

When the Olympics aired, Street Boyz crowed about winning the trophy. At first it seemed harsh, but then we saw Tree Mr. accidentally shoot for his own goal. I heard they had a big role in the Olympics, along with Teen Spirit. They said it felt like they were about to explode with success after one album.

Along with debut news came unpleasant updates:

– APLB’s Kevin joins TBC “People Go” as regular guest

– “Go crazy to rise,” APLB’s Kevin wows weekend variety with insane humor

– QTV “Exciting Radio” Kevin’s past buzz, netizens accept him as Sun Woo-ju’s successor

These were about my military successor’s rising presence. He’s charmingly crazy, so variety PDs adore him—he now has three regular shows. I congratulated him:

Me [Knew you’d succeed in variety]

Fangirl [Indeed lol]

Fangirl [Why did I learn singing?]

Me [Good singer+comedian > comedian only]

Fangirl [Oh? Is this intro time?]

I enjoyed teasing him, though his banter has grown sharp—he jokes he’ll pave my thorny path after making it in variety. Not thrilled by that.

Meanwhile, as we spent the first holiday of 2016 on schedule, we also prepared for next week’s Japan tour.

“Arrrgh...!”

“Singing was easier, right?”

“Arrrgh... arr!”

We’d practiced while on mini-tour in hotels, but under the main dancer’s direction, full concert prep felt like our bodies would break.

“But about this Japan concert,”

The youngest, drenched in sweat, asked between gulps,

“Aren’t we doing a huge scale?”

“Indeed.”

“I keep going ‘hmm?’ ‘hmm?’”

“Me too—hard to believe. Do you know anything?”

“No. Not really...”

We’d been bewildered when we first heard the venue size: we’d done nothing to deserve it. Last year in Japan we only did a K-pop concert in Saitama Prefecture, a fan sign, and album promo. We’d seen crowd sizes at airports but done nothing else.

“Then what’s this?”

Comparing the venue list with photos, we puzzled: it was still huge. Even the company hadn’t pinned down why.

“We’ll find out when we get there.”

While killing time, Junghyun held up his phone.

“Did you see this?”

“What is it?”

“It says we’re on U.S. news.”

“What?”

We leaned in.

Lincoln, Nebraska, USA. A restaurant there.

“Wow...”

Annie, 21, a student at the University of Nebraska–Lincoln and a K-pop fan, tapped her tablet.

“Ooh...”

Over her omelet, she watched NewBlack members smiling brightly on screen. As part of her daily “Nine” challenge, she’d switch videos. She’d liked various idols before, but now she was hooked on NewBlack.

“Every day feels new.”

Thanks to abundant MyTube content, she never ran out of videos. It was like an endlessly unfolding novel. With one earbud in, subtitles set to English, she watched a reality vid.

“Hahaha!”

A fan-made NewBlack compilation with English captions amused her—when Ri-hyeok glared at the others, a “[Pause]” caption appeared.

“I have to share this.”

She wanted to grab fellow diners, exclaiming, “Watch this! It’s a whole new world!” Then—

“Hahaha!”

That familiar laugh came from outside her earbud. She pulled it out. The restaurant TV was playing NewBlack’s laughter.

“No way.”

She looked up at the TV, puzzled. A news channel was airing. On screen, a split view: anchor on left, reporter on right. The gray-haired anchor grinned.

“Today’s fun overseas topic, right?”

“Yes—a video recently trending on MyTube. Anyone can enjoy it.”

“Please introduce it.”

“It features a K-pop singer who sang the OST ‘Thousand Dreams’ for Nostalgia.”

It really was NewBlack. Annie’s eyes widened.

“What is this?”

Her heart raced. Just then—

“Nooo...”

She groaned “Noooo” aloud. She shook her head, wanting to change the channel, when she recognized a clip from PBS My Hometown: a young man inhaling, then mooing like a cow—

“Moooorrr!”

“Haha!”

As the anchor and reporter chuckled, more footage played:

“These challenge videos followed the original—let’s watch.”

Farmers in America’s Midwest were shown playing the clip for cows. The cows stopped their tasks and gathered, mooing “Moooorrr!” The anchor and reporter laughed, and the restaurant filled with joyful laughter.

Annie swallowed hard. The owner holding a coffee pot asked,

“More coffee?”

“No!”

“By the way, what were you watching?”

“Nothing.”

She slammed the tablet shut to hide the NewBlack video. As others began chatting about what they’d seen, the TV returned to its regular segment, explaining the clip’s context:

“NewBlack is a well-known K-pop group from Korea.”

As patrons glanced up, Annie felt a mixture of pride and awkwardness—her idol’s name spreading overseas left her uncomfortably self-conscious.