In This Life, The Greatest Star In The Universe

“I could see Producer Na Sang-yoon trembling as he closed his eyes. The other composers slumped in their chairs, wearing defeated expressions. That’s how good this song was.

I saw the rest of the staff nodding and exchanging approving glances—like ‘This is really good.’

When the 3-minute 40-second track ended,

“You don’t even have to check whose song it is to know,” Hyung Seok-hwan said, and laughter rippled through the room.

As everyone looked at me, the division head quipped,

“At this level, a song should have fingerprints.”

“It’s really good—the first track. I don’t yet know who wrote it, but it’s so catchy,” Chief Hong Seo-young said, and everyone laughed and nodded.

Then the A&R team chimed in.

“It doesn’t follow the latest trends, but the song is incredible.”

“Even though it’s not a hook song, the melody keeps getting stuck in my head. This one’s going to be huge.”

“It feels similar overall to when we signed off on ‘Fireworks.’”

Praise poured in that it could be released as-is. The producing team agreed.

“We’re of the same mind. From a composer’s perspective, leaving listener bias aside, the song is absurdly good.”

“Oh-ho.”

CEO Park Gyu-ho asked,

“Is it really that good?”

“Yes. Usually a hit needs both recognition and quality to synergize...”

Producer Na Sang-yoon looked at us and said,

“But we’ve already secured enormous recognition, and the song is insanely good.”

“I see.”

With such a great song right off the bat and everyone smiling, the CEO waved his hand.

“Let’s move on to the next track.”

Focus returned as the next song began. After about two hours of listening and reviewing,

“I’ll report the outcome,” the TF leader said, projecting the results on the screen.

“By unanimous vote, candidate track number one has been chosen as the title. Track one’s credits: composed by NewBlack, lyrics by NewBlack—‘Nak-hwa’ (‘Falling Petals’).”

Under the table, I high-fived my siblings. As the room applauded, I glanced at the producing team, whose eyes narrowed at me. When I gave an apologetic smile, they returned mock exasperated looks.

“Wooju really came through again,” the CEO said with a laugh. “I heard you made it with a ghost in Jeju.”

“Yes. We filmed reality shots while making it. But I think there’s a misunderstanding—it wasn’t a ghost...”

We protested “No ghosts,” but everyone laughed it off and joked about how powerful the ghost was and what its location was.

After deciding on the title track and B-sides, we revealed our album title, which we’d prepared with the title-track win in mind.

“How about calling the mini-4th album NewBlack ‘Byeol (別): Into the Black’?” I stood and wrote on the whiteboard. Using the hanja for ‘parting,’ with the subtitle Into the Black to mark our entry into a new darkness. It would conclude the six-part series on ‘Meetings and Partings’ from our debut single and connect to our full album later this year.

“For the special album before, we put ‘Byeol (別)’ in the intro, and for the outro, I’m thinking Junghyun’s rap performance of ‘Into the Black.’”

“Sounds good,” Director Jo Gyu-hwan said. “We could use petals or stars on the cover.”

“That’s nice too.” As we discussed the concept, the A&R team briefed us on chart trends for our release window.

“Recently idol music splits into two camps. One is songs like Nine’s style.”

There were so many tracks like Nine’s, which dominated last year’s second half and solidified as this year’s trend. We realized that when listening to the charts.

“People say Nine spread a plague in composer communities.”

“Oh—”

“If you’re not a concept-heavy group like Street Boys or TeenSpirit, everyone tries a Nine-like concept now, partly to chase overseas popularity.”

At the top were drama OSTs. A smash drama starring Lee Geon-woo and Kwak Si-hyun was filling the charts; names like Jang So-won, Yoon Chan-hyeok, Cha Woo-hyun stood out. Below them, songs like Something and recent spring-season ballads ranked high.

“Something charted again?”

“Yep, it snuck back in...”

We chuckled at the perennial spring song’s reappearance as our A&R lead played the steadfast #1: a tropical-tinged refreshing track.

“This is the biggest variable...”

“It’s ‘REALITY’ by Serenity. I heard it as soon as it dropped; it’s amazing.”

The addictive refreshing hook song by the girl group Serenity, who returned with a high-teen-movie concept in the U.S. It was eating the charts alive—everyone smiled at its breezy vibe.

“Deserves #1,” someone said. We heard it was almost locked for the first half’s top spot, even projected for year-end #1. We’d heard it everywhere while filming Jeju reality.

“Serenity’s vibe is insane—they surpassed first-week sales of 80,000 and broke records.” They’d overtaken 2nd-gen titans Daylight for the girl-group first-week crown. NYX and Blink chased in second; 2nd-year HighColor was rising; one by one the 3rd-gen girl groups were exploding.

“And now that refreshing hit, other girl groups will flood that genre...” we wondered if our springtime ballad ‘Falling Petals’ would land well when listeners were into bright, cool songs in May.

“It is an awkward season. Hits like this usually drop when it’s cold,” a TF member said.

“It is a niche genre...”

“But when Nine did it, no one had done it before. Now it’s a trend.”

Everyone fretted over pioneering a novel genre. Then Viju suggested,

“How about listening to ‘Falling Petals’ again after hearing the chart-toppers?”

“Great idea.” After the block of hits, we replayed ‘Falling Petals.’ The contrast felt odd but harmonized quickly. Unanimously, we decided to push it as-is.

Amid refreshing-chart concerns, another worry came up.

“But ‘REALITY’ is similar to ‘Fireworks,’ isn’t it?” an A&R staffer remarked after the meeting.

“Yeah. Both are fresh.”

I replied, “They’re both house-derived. We went deep-house; they added tropical.”

“True. If ‘Fireworks’ had come out now, maybe it’d hit like this...”

“It was just a bit ahead of its time,” someone mused.

Passing remarks like that gave me and my siblings a twinge of anxiety. Would ‘Falling Petals’ also be too early? The maknae tapped my temple with a finger:

“Positive thoughts. Positive thoughts.”

“Input complete.” We all drew OKs in the air and smiled; she nodded. The pressure to succeed had made us briefly jittery.

Just then,

“Sun Woojuuu...” the dark-circled producing staff approached like mummies, arms outstretched. On closer look, they wore patches on shoulders and wrists. They began mimicking me:

“What do I do? I’m stuck on the song again, it’s a disaster.”

“Is it a slump, perhaps?”

“I’ve lost my feel for the song...”

I avoided their glaring stares. As my siblings laughed, chanting “Scold him well!,” I pulled out my wallet.

“Kkotdeungeumsim.” (Snow-flower ribeye steak)

“...!”

“Five servings per person.”

“...!”

“Unlimited soju and beer.”

Anger melted away as we shook hands in camaraderie. Producer Na Sang-yoon asked,

“Can’t I trade in a work-avoidance pass instead of alcohol?”

“No can do.” My firm answer prompted mock sorrow then laughter.

“Ha-ha-ha! Really not allowed?”

“No.”

“Well, then I’ll eat meat...”

After the album planning meeting, the next few days blurred with back-to-back meetings. We had so much to do.

“For this choreography, I want to emphasize curves,” Viju led the discussion with the choreographer. Previously we’d hired foreigners; this time we employed a Korean choreographer who majored in traditional dance. For intricate moves, we even consulted an action director from historical dramas.

“Hello!” We and stylist Director Kim visited Designer Seo In-ah, famed for showcasing hanbok at foreign fashion shows.

As we sat in the office conference room,

“Oh, the artists are here?”

“Yes, the TF team is handling production.”

“Ah, then...” Stylist Kim pointed at us. “Talk to these friends first—they’re really the core.”

“Oh, right.” Surprised that we were actually producing the album ourselves, the designer’s eyes widened. When our siblings handed her printed PPTs full of meticulous notes, she was even more astonished. My own notes were nowhere to be seen—my siblings had glared at me because I offered ‘too cool’ costume ideas.

“These are wonderfully detailed,” the designer said. “I can work with these without extra explanation. I’ve never had such clear idol costume requests...”

Hearing that freshness pleased her; Viju smiled warmly.

“Of course, these are our wishes. You might have even better ideas.”

“So you want this as directional guidance?”

“Yes, exactly.”

After Seo In-ah asked a few questions and my siblings answered, Designer Kim and Hyung Seok-hwan stayed behind for technical talk while we moved on for scheduling.

“Ugh...” Even though I was sucking down ginseng extract, I was exhausted. It’s like a game where your health bar barely fills with one potion. Two to three hours of sleep here and there for recording and choreography left me drained—especially since I’d started dieting and lacked energy. As I downed my ginseng, Jiho said,

“I hope we film ‘MIF’ soon. Is it next week?”

“Maybe.”

“After that, everyone won’t be like Designer-sun was: ‘Oh?’”

We’d gone around telling everyone, “We’re actually producing it,” and most half-believed us. The maknae thought appearing on ‘MIF’ would dispel doubts.

“Well, we’ll see when we actually record it.”

As we drove toward the studio for the next schedule, we rolled the windows down, pumped up.

Late March, the air smelled fully of spring; winter had finally vanished.

Friday. Elderly viewers of PBS1’s 〈Right Now, My Hometown〉 turned the volume from 9 to 7 out of habit whenever NewBlack’s segment approached, because it was always so loud. But then they gasped.

“They’re not on anymore...”

They cranked it back to 9—feeling a twinge of loss. At first they’d wondered what the noisy kids were about, but after three weeks, they’d grown fond of the local “puppy dogs.”

“Come on, show up or not...” they muttered. Then at the very end of the program, the male announcer offered an unexpected tease:

“Since it’s Friday, we have a very special guest with us again, don’t we?”

“That’s right. A dear guest who had left has returned.”

Just as viewers thought they’d discuss spring herbs...

“On 〈Right Now, My Hometown〉, NewBlack is back!”

The screen cut to NewBlack filmed in an outside studio.

“One, two, three! Hello! We’re NewBlack!”

“Did you miss us? I missed you so much!”

“Yes! We were chosen in 2016 as regional-development ambassadors, and we’re back to announce local festivals in our hometown!”

They explained the new corner: every Friday, a minute-long “Next week’s local festival” segment. Dressed for each event, the members beamed—and viewers couldn’t help smiling. One lady in Seogwipo, Jeju, felt especially happy: she’d sent a postcard to ask, “Will you not appear again?” and received,

[Promise kept! Please watch tonight] – From NewBlack’s Woojoong & Minions ♡

As positive feedback flooded the viewer board after the broadcast, the production team grinned. Elsewhere, soufflés were devouring new “bread crumbs” in fan communities:

“〈Right Now, My Hometown〉 train cut”

“A Jeju viewer made a promise—today’s broadcast? T_T”

“Looks like a duty-free ad dropped (link)”

“Where’s the ad with Junghyun in a suit???”

Flags of the ads filmed in early March popped up one after another: Duty-Free song by NewBlack alongside Hallyu stars Lee Geon-woo, Kwak Si-hyun, TNT; and another on everyday freedom:

[Sometimes you want to leave freely]

Wooju contemplates outfits in a stylish wardrobe; Viju snaps photos on film on the street; Junghyun reads peacefully at home; Rihyeok crumples notebook pages behind his back; Jiho cooks. Comments laughed:

“Everything’s wrong from A to Z lol”

“Who’s this ad guy? Didn’t do his job?”

“Look at Biju getting lost outside DA Duty Free lol”

“Ads like this could be sued for false claims”

“‘Everyday freedom’ = that doesn’t exist”

“Chinese/japanese tourists will be like ‘oooh’... I can’t focus lol”

Even as fans marveled at the volume of ads befitting the current hotness:

“This year’s major agencies’ earnings... TJ Ent. solid #1”

“Huai Ent. two years running ‘losses’—red flags”

“TeenSpirit, Serenity huge... MOP Ent. record high”

By late March, idol communities were dissecting 2015 agency earnings. Among the Big Four, one agency soared:

[Lemon Ent. 2015 revenue ₩83.8B... up ₩40B YoY]

(article screenshot)

“It’s estimated NewBlack contributed about ₩35B of that.”

Lemon Entertainment’s remarkable ₩83.8 billion revenue made them a standout in 2015. Comments:

“Wow lol”

“Does that include Japan tour?”

“No, it’s just 2015”

“Knowing they made ₩35B in revenue explains the free small-theater tour”

“Gross profit looks low though?”

“Gross profit high isn’t bad—it means they paid out well to your oppas”

“Insane... if ₩35B was just their contribution, that’s almost ₩40B”

“Half the company’s revenue is NewBlack lol no wonder Gyuho’s always smiling going to work”

“Lemon only got into idols with Scarlet, they’re no small fry”

Alongside that, a full ranking thread appeared:

[2015 Major Agencies’ Earnings + Lemon Ent. Added]

(agency revenue ranking)

“TJ ₩270B > MOP ₩230B > SNH ₩97B > Lemon ₩84B > KM ₩75B...”

Then DNS and Huai trailed—gap widens there. Comments:

“When did Lemon shoot up like that??”

“NewBlack really hit it big... one-shot wonder of life”

“But net profit-wise MOP is higher, right? TJ seems less efficient”

“TJ’s market cap is #1”

“This year MOP might top—TeenSpirit’s huge, Serenity is a jackpot too”

“TNT must be big for TJ’s numbers... isn’t Jang Han-byul leaving on this re-contract rumor?”

“Her solo revenue > TNT’s entire China revenue”

“They’re brave for not leaving sooner—if I were them I would’ve”

“Flow is trash... their stans want TNT disbanded more than anyone”

“Fans are sensitive already, and this is just poking them lol”

“TeenSpirit barely got an album award by bending rules, now acting big—when did they become Daesang group”

“Objectively, isn’t this the last year for TNT? Teens and NEO are eating them alive, and when Jang Han-byul leaves, no full group—only units or solos”

“KM’s momentum’s dead”

“Fans here are obsessed with net profits? This place gets weirder by the day”

As confusion and chaos reigned again, PBS-logo vehicles arrived at Lemon Ent.’s headquarters, equipment in hand.

“All right, let’s start filming prep!”

It was the production crew for ‘Mr. Producer.’