In This Life, The Greatest Star In The Universe

The concert rehearsals took place over two days.

We ran through the choreography we’d practiced for two months and made sure our timing was tight on stage. Then we walked around checking sound and lighting down to the smallest details.

“All right, let’s go through everything one more time.”

Whenever we had a moment, my brothers and I quizzed each other on the key points, aligning everything for the show.

And yet...

“Ugh...”

I still can’t get used to this place.

The gymnastics arena.

Every time I look around this vast space—so much bigger than the handball court—it doesn’t feel real.

Ri-hyuk stared blankly at the empty seats. “Are we really performing here? I still can’t believe it.”

“You’re not the only one. Me neither.”

“Me too,” the maknae piped up, squeezing himself between us.

“I thought I’d be used to it after all the shows we’ve done, but I’m so nervous. Want to try placing your hand on your chest and feeling your heartbeat?”

“No.”

We all pressed our hands to our chests anyway.

Thump-thump.

A pleasant heartbeat pulsed through my hand. Each breath brought in that unmistakable concert-venue scent.

Still, it felt unreal.

I’d been to this arena many times—watching sunbaenims’ shows as a trainee, coming here for the Mango Chart Awards and other ceremonies, even performing small stages here. But this was the first time it was entirely ours.

As we wandered around the thrust stage jutting into the audience, the maknae closed his eyes.

“Imagine with me, hyungs.”

He spoke softly. “Tonight when the show starts, twelve thousand Dalbongis will light up this empty space like stars...”

“Twelve thousand of them.”

“Twelve thousand Dalbongis sparkling like stars.”

“Hmmm...”

I pictured it in my mind.

“It sounds amazing, but I still can’t really picture it... Ri-hyuk, are you crying already?”

“What are you talking about? I’m not crying.”

His eyes were just a little shiny. My little brother.

Ji-ho and I exchanged a knowing look and gently teased him.

“If you cry here, I’m totally tattling on you to the Suffle later.”

“...”

“I’ll post it on social media: [Celebration] ‘Seo Ri-hyuk’s Fastest-Ever Tears’.”

Ri-hyuk’s sentimental expression instantly soured and he jabbed both our ribs with his elbows.

“Yah!”

“Eek!”

We chased after him, mock-annoyed.

Junghyun and Bi-ju, who’d been strolling at a distance, joined us, faces all misty-eyed.

“What were you two talking about?”

“Oh,” Junghyun shrugged. “Back when we were trainees, Bi-ju and I used to sit on the rooftop eating Melona and talk about performing in the gymnastics arena.”

“I never thought it’d actually happen. It was just something we complained about on tough days...”

When I was a trainee I—like many others—prayed, “Please let me perform at the gymnastics arena!” Apparently, they had too. In fact, it’s probably every trainee’s dream.

Bi-ju laughed. “If Junghyun hadn’t been so optimistic back then, we might’ve debuted even sooner.”

“I’d agree with that.”

“But U-ju hyung canceled out his optimism so here we are.”

“It really wouldn’t have happened without you guys.”

I smiled at my brothers’ praise. I felt the same way: without them, I might never have debuted and, two years later, played the gymnastics arena.

When we debuted, I optimistically thought it might take four or five years to reach this level. This was unbelievable.

Laughter died down and we fell into a comfortable silence.

“....”

Standing there, taking in the arena together, we shared a bond I can only describe as a mix of comradeship and family love.

We watched the staff scurrying about and checked our watches.

“I think it’s almost time for the crew to do their final stage checks. Let’s head down.”

“Yeah.”

“Then we’ll get our makeup and costumes on.”

“Okay...”

Leading my reluctant brothers out, I couldn’t help smiling. Somehow I understood: though no one’s going to take this place from us, if we didn’t stand here, it’d feel like a mirage that vanished.

I gazed at the empty seats as we descended from the stage. But when we climbed back up later, they’d be filled with thousands of people.

It was perfect.

Today truly embodied the meaning of “perfect.”

“Wow...”

Mid-May.

The Suffle arriving at Olympic Park felt exhilarated. The crowd buzzed like a festival.

“I love this feeling.”

Every inhale carried the scent of blossoms, trees, and coffee from nearby cafés. Under the bright sky, I saw the happiest faces in the world.

“Hey! Over here!”

“Yo!”

Friends and fellow fans who’d planned to meet via SNS waved from every corner. Smiles bloomed in the warm sunlight.

“This is insane. Why are there so many people?”

“I know, right? Compared to last year’s handball venue... it feels way more packed.”

With 12,000 seats—about two and a half times last summer’s 5,000—the festival atmosphere was tenfold.

Cafés played NewBlack compilations, and from the plaza to the arena, concert banners fluttered everywhere.

“Take my photo!”

“Just a sec...!”

“Make sure Bi-ju’s hair is fully in the shot.”

We paused for photos and admired the banners as we walked in.

“How do they keep getting more handsome every time?”

All the fans wondered the same. Each album cycle topped the last.

Those who’d been here last year felt it even more.

“Is it bigger than before?”

Even Ji-ho looked more grown-up than last year’s pictures. The rest of us seemed more seasoned, more mature.

Naturally, we loved it.

“I’ll take more pics later.”

When we reached the venue entrance, the scene was nothing short of a festival.

Booths formed long lines. Everywhere, volunteers handed out freebies. Photo walls stood alongside vendor stands with Lemon staff working the crowd.

“Why are these lines so long?”

“If I wait for the photo wall now, the concert’ll be over.”

Though I arrived early, the queues were massive. I heard fans had camped out all night for merch.

The hottest items were the t-shirts designed by the members themselves.

“They’re so pretty...”

“That floral one in the center’s U-ju’s design; that elegant script must be Ri-hyuk’s.”

“His handwriting’s amazing—guess the ‘human printer’ rumor’s true.”

Fans giggled at the main-vocal’s English “On Parade” script jokes while scanning the merch list.

“This looks like a discount outlet...”

Tote bags, tumblers, tees, mood lights, key rings—over thirty items. My jaw dropped.

“I have to be careful. I feel tempted...”

“Save your bank account goodbye. From the moment you step here, it’s over.”

Even though merch rarely disappoints from Lemon, my wallet trembled.

“I’m so tempted. What do I do?”

“Say goodbye to your savings. We were doomed the moment we arrived.”

The concert’s theme matched last year’s carnival style: festival lights and decorations everywhere were utterly charming. My arms full of bags grew steadily heavier.

“I got it...!”

Fans who picked up tickets on-site snapped their photo with pride. With time to kill, they grabbed seats at nearby cafés and chatted about NewBlack.

As showtime approached, they stashed their belongings, changed into comfortable shoes, and prepared for standing-room mode.

“My heart’s racing...”

It felt like entering an amusement park as a kid. After ticket checks, fans passed under the stage’s perimeter and flooded into the standing area, sighing with delight.

“Great spot.”

“Right?”

Warning signs like “Caution: Pyrotechnics” looked scary, but everyone was thrilled. Both standing and seated fans gaped at the view.

“They say a gymnastics arena is heaven no matter where you are... they were right.”

Fans took selfies or chatted, waiting for showtime. Rumors swirled of celebrities in attendance.

“Who’s here?”

“Looks like Jang So-won and Lisa are here.”

Word spread that Cha Woo-hyun and other singers from the Myunggokdan era had shown up. Someone even spotted actor Ha Seung-joo with his teenage kids. Then:

“There seem to be more foreigners than last time.”

“I thought it was just me.”

Last year’s handball show had foreign fans too, but this was on another level. Nearby, families sat in the third tier—general public, not just fans. It was surprising, but then:

“Whoa—!”

The show was about to begin.

As the music cue sounded, group chants grew louder. Lights dimmed, sound shifted, and twelve thousand voices shook the arena.

“It’s starting!”

A rush only performers can know swept through me.

“Waaaah—!”

Against the darkness, twelve thousand lightsticks flickered as the intro VCR rolled.

Ji-ho. Bi-ju. Junghyun. Ri-hyuk. U-ju.

Each close-up of a member set off roaring cheers that ebbed and flowed. Then total blackout.

“Waaaah—!”

A pulsing BGM and CG graphics lit the screens.

Kuuuung—

A thunderous sound effect shook the arena. Lights above and below the screen began to ripple in waves. As the beam swept across the crowd, five silhouettes materialized on stage.

It’s nine nine nine—

PAH! Fireworks exploded in a shower of confetti as NewBlack launched the opening choreography. One member per verse. When the refrain repeated, the five walked center stage together.

“Waaaah—!”

The end-of-year hit “Nine” roared to life. Flames soared, lights blazed down, and the members tore into their signature, high-energy moves. The audience erupted.

“What is this? What is this?”

This version felt even more pumped than the original. By the third verse, the side screens showed the maknae grinning and raising his hand.

—Suffle, let’s go all out!

“Waaaah—!”

Fans screamed back, dancing with their lightsticks. The Nine remix kicked off the parade—an epic result born from someone new at Lemon Ent. grinding the MR like a millstone.

Two high-intensity dances back-to-back after Nine had me drenched in sweat, muscles screaming. But...

—Waaaah—!

The endless cheers felt electrifying. I felt completely liberated; every ounce of tension flew away with each shout. Countless lightsticks glowed in the darkness.

“Ah...”

I cleared my nearly hoarse throat, then saw the Suffle waving their lightsticks under the bright lights. I exchanged smiles with my brothers, then grabbed the mic.

“All right, shall we greet everyone? One, two, three—!”

—Hello! We’re NewBlack!

The roar that greeted us was deafening.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

—Yeeees!

“We’ve seen some of you on our small-theater tour, but being here in a full concert feels different... like it’s really been a while.”

Fans cheered in agreement. I grinned, and I think the screens caught my smile, because the Suffle went wild.

I brushed sweat from my hair and continued.

“Our second solo concert, The New Black: On Parade!”

—Welcome to this long-awaited first night!

We all laughed as the Suffle waved their lightsticks.

“Let’s introduce ourselves one by one. First...”

I waved. “Hello, everyone! I’m U-ju, lead vocalist and leader of NewBlack. Nice to see you all!”

My brothers followed suit.

—Hello, I’m main dancer Bi-ju!

—I’m Junghyun! I had meat for lunch so I’m hyped—and meeting you now makes me even more excited!

—I’m main vocalist Ri-hyuk. It’s been a while... I’m... happy.

—I’m your beloved maknae, Ji-ho!

The Suffle laughed at our slightly awkward last intro. Then the maknae, beaming, took the mic.

—Everyone.

Ji-ho spread his arms wide. —Where are we now~?

—In the gymnaaaasium!

—That’s right. We, NewBlack, have finally... come to the gymnastics arena...!

A cheer so loud it could tear eardrums rang ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) out. Watching our clownish maknae, we chimed in.

“We fought hard to get that line. Everyone wanted to say it—especially him.”

—We played rock-paper-scissors and had a huge fight. He even tried to cheat again.

“Rock-paper-scissors is random, guys.”

—Hyung didn’t get to do it!

I licked my lips at my complaining brothers. After explaining the epic debate over that one line to the delighted fans, the maknae suggested:

—Then let’s each get a turn.

—Oh, that works.

One by one, each of us solemnly said, “It’s... the gymnastics arena...” and the Suffle laughingly joined in.

“You’ve already heard it four times. I’ll do a different line.”

I smiled at the crowd and asked, “We’ve grown up well, haven’t we?”

They cheered.

“That’s thanks to you. All of you.”

Their response made me beam. My brothers shared brief reflections, glowing with happiness.

—It feels amazing. All... of this.

—Yeah. It’s different from when we came to an awards show. Now it’s just us and you, our fans.

—We’re using this entire arena... as ours...

Each time, the Suffle roared approval. I genuinely thought they’d be just as thrilled as we were to see NewBlack in the gymnastics arena.

Holding back our ending remarks, we explained the concert.

“Our concert title, On Parade, is like the highlight of a theme park: the parade.” 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

—Exactly.

“Think of this as a festival we’ve prepared just for you.”

—We hope it becomes a festival you remember for a long time.

Bi-ju’s line drew cheers. Then we gave a few safety and etiquette reminders—“No pushing in the standing section!” “Store memories in your eyes and ears, please!”—then:

“Tonight’s show is split into five stages by color. The first stage is Red.”

—You know the five colors, right~?

Fans answered “Yes!” and I said, “Later, we’ll also debut our new song, so look forward to it. We’ve prepared so much just for you.”

When I got the signal it was almost time for the next number, Junghyun wrapped up.

—We’re here to close out your night—give it everything. Please look forward to it.

—Let’s have fun tonight!

We all grinned and headed off for the next set. I felt so energized that my steps were lighter than air.

NewBlack’s promises were real.

“Wow...”

Elaborate stage rigs, special effects that must’ve cost a fortune, cinematic VCRs, stunning costumes—every element was crafted to perfection.

The Red Stage, full of glamour and passion.

The Yellow Stage, warm and bright.

The Green Stage, a hip-hop party that got everyone dancing.

The Blue Stage, cool and dreamlike.

Each stage, led by a member’s signature style, recreated the carnival parade vibe. Then came the fifth: the Purple Stage.

“Wow...”

True to its regal, elegant color, the Korean-style VCR visuals captivated everyone. As the lights rose, the five members appeared, and the arena erupted in its loudest roar yet.

“Unbelievable...”

Clad in refined hanbok, the members stood like noble youths of the Joseon era. Beige and white robes accented with luxurious purple accessories. Black durumagi robes draped like regal cloaks. They looked like scholarly romantics and guardians combined.

The main dancer, a poetic noble. The main vocalist, eyes full of yearning. The rapper, a warrior’s presence. The sub-vocalist, an aristocratic charm. And at center stage stood a beauty who outshone them all.

“Waaaah—!”

As the cheers rose, the intro “Byeol (別)” began. Soft gayageum strings guided the choreography: each of us waving white cloths, our sleeves fluttering like petals. Entranced, the audience watched.

Then the gayageum blended with other traditional instruments, building tension like a farewell’s final clash.

“Wow...”

Though wordless, the crescendo spoke volumes. Music and dance entwined like tangled emotions. The delicate, vivid melody gripped every soul.

Dum-dum—

Drums accelerated to a thunderous peak, choreography matching the intensity. Then silence: no music, no vocals. Only the rustle of cloth as we formed a circle and froze in place.

The dancers’ thrown cloth fluttered down like falling petals.

And as we held our arms outstretched...

“Waaaah—!”

The long-awaited prelude to “Nakhwa)” swelled across the arena.