In This Life, The Greatest Star In The Universe

The news reached me on the flight back to Korea.

“I really burned out white-hot....”

“When we get back, we’re going to eat so much meat.”

“My strength just drained right out.”

After igniting every fiber of our bodies at the Thailand concert—28,000 fans over two days—I felt pleasantly drowsy.

“This is nice....”

Like a pair of grandpas, we kneaded massage balls across our shoulders, prompting passing flight attendants to purse their lips.

Then Seok-hwan hyung passed along the update.

“First place?”

“Is it really true this time?”

In first class there was only us, but perhaps conscious of our hearing, Seok-hwan hyung nodded with a joyous smile.

We returned his grin and exchanged excited looks.

‘T-Spirit must have dropped out...!’

T-Spirit, who’d been dominating album sales and online votes, was no longer on the chart. If our competing song had been “Nakhwa,” we’d have topped the charts immediately with combined sales, but sadly “Bulkkotnori” was a two-year-old track. Realistically, it was tough to beat.

Above all...

“....Finally, ‘Bulkkotnori’ has won.”

“It was a hard fight.”

“My dad says the hardest battle is always against yourself.”

Beating our own streaming record was the biggest challenge. It took time for “Bulkkotnori” to overtake “Nakhwa” and “Attention” and hit number one on the digital charts. Normally a comeback ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) like this would grab a music-show return and an instant #1 within a month—moving, inspiring—but even this historic rebound couldn’t surpass “Nakhwa” and “Attention.” It felt like hell’s gatekeeper was blocking us with an axe.

“....”

Gazing nostalgically out at Suvarnabhumi Airport below, I recalled a meme I’d once seen online: a cartoon with my face pasted on it, riding a bike into a branch caught in the spokes, toppling over. I tried to will the image—bike labeled “Bulkkotnori,” branch labeled “Nakhwa, Attention”—out of my mind.

– “Feels like we tried a comeback and got arrested immediately by the cops lol”

– “A comeback is so NewBlack, lol”

– “Nakhwa special: title means ‘falling’ but it never falls”

– “I was excited that he was tall but everyone in class is on the basketball team lol”

I shook off the teasing comments drifting across my vision.

“...Anyway, it’s a good thing.”

“Exactly.”

“I really wondered if we could do it.”

We smiled as we scanned the chart: #1 “Bulkkotnori,” then “Attention,” then “Nakhwa.” I’d worried it might fizzle out, but thankfully “Bulkkotnori” was poised to claim #1 this time. It was the only title track we’d performed that had never hit number one—and as our debut song, it meant so much to us and to Soufflé.

“Let’s prepare intensely.”

My brothers nodded in silent agreement. As a candidate for a music-show return performance, we would fully prepare and deliver.

The moment we landed in Korea, we headed straight to the practice room. Normally after an overseas concert, the company orders us not to come in—our access card gets suspended—but this time we’d received special permission to visit.

Our first stop was the producing team’s office.

“Sawadee khráp~! Who wants some Thai dried mango and fish jerky~?”

“Eek!”

“What’s wrong?”

“...Sorry. I’m so used to startling you guys.”

The producing-team staff greeted us like it was a day off, beaming at our arrival. A&R team members lounged around, and PD Na Sang-yun, looking gaunt, staggered to his feet with a smile.

“Here to check the streaming update?”

“Yes!”

Dark circles under everyone’s eyes told me how grueling the “Bulkkotnori” remix had been. I laughed, watching them tear into snacks, and PD Na smiled warmly.

“While working on ‘Bulkkotnori’ this time, I realized this song suits you perfectly.”

“Really?”

Among our titles, “Bulkkotnori” probably carries all our colors most evenly.

“This track is wild.”

“Oh.”

“Tweak the bass and the other parts lose their way; touch one sound and the mix shatters. It only sounds refreshing, but from the composer’s perspective, the song’s so finicky...”

“...”

“It’s like walking a pack of puppies. You mind one for a moment, and the others run off with a silly grin.”

Every jab hit its mark, and the assembled staff averted their eyes. Sighing over how tricky the song was, PD Na then laughed and said,

“But anyway, we made it through.”

“It’s done?”

“Give it a listen. You’ll love it.”

And he was right. Although it’d taken longer than expected, the “Bulkkotnori” I’d imagined lay before me: almost identical to the original, yet fresher and far more polished.

“This is great...!”

“Sounds amazing!”

My brothers’ bright eyes and nods showed that my vision had come through perfectly. The composers beamed and high-fived us, celebrating like NASA engineers after a rocket launch. They must have suffered just as much.

I thought about treating them to premium Korean beef for lunch and dinner when PD Na patted me on the shoulder, grinning.

“Good work, Hyeongseop...! We finally passed the devil’s toll.”

“If this were any other time, we’d be critiquing every bar, but meeting the master is more nerve-wracking than meeting my father-in-law.”

“Remarkable that it all went smoothly. We must’ve done well. Ha ha!”

...Maybe I should spring for some American ribeye too. After a moment’s hesitation, I handed over my card and told them to feast to their hearts’ content. The producing-team staff fled like elementary schoolers released from class, and I waved after them.

Bi-ju sighed, “You guys really worked them hard.”

“They asked for something casually stylish,” I explained. “Casual-but-chic, right?”

“Looks like it was quite tough.”

Rihyuk scanned the whiteboard covered in tiny scribbles and laughed.

“Look at these notes: ‘Song project... what is this tiny script? Sun Woo-ju’s an idiot?’”

“Here’s another: ‘Today I decided to bury Sun Woo-ju.’ As if I only work on my own tracks.”

“There’s even a doodle of Ujuseon exploding!”

Those scrawls—PD Na must have drawn them while working late, losing his focus. My brothers laughed uproariously as I trembled quietly, regretting that I hadn’t given them more credit.

We left for the practice room, determined to make up for lost time.

“All right! Let’s run through it for a final check!”

Under our main dancer’s guidance, we polished the choreography one last time. Since we’d already prepped for a #1 win, no special additions were needed—just practice, and more practice.

“I feel like everyone’s really improved.”

Bi-ju smiled with satisfaction. “Hyung and I are more relaxed in the moves. Jung-hyun’s lines are so much smoother. Jiho’s expressions feel more natural.”

“Yeah, huge improvement.”

Compared to when we promoted “Bulkkotnori” originally, everyone’s skill had grown. We executed the same moves more cleanly with less effort and now had the poise to make eye contact with the audience. We’d developed a real sense for stage presence—what expression fits each moment, where to direct our gaze. Even without speaking, we identified flaws and corrected them ourselves.

And in the midst of all this progress, the most striking change belonged to...

“...What are you staring at?”

Our main vocalist.

Every time Rihyuk practiced in front of the mirror, I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

“He’s so good.”

“He’s insanely good...?”

Like a wave dying down, he deepened into a fluid sine-wave body roll, then halted with a gentle pose. Kneeling, he reached up toward the sky, his hand drifting as if swimming through air.

We blinked at how perfectly his movement captured the song’s fresh energy.

“...Why have you been looking at me like that? Did I do something weird?”

“No, you’re just so good.”

“...!”

As Rihyuk blushed the color of Mr. Beetroot, Jiho asked earnestly, “Honestly, where is the real Rihyuk hyung?”

“Hey!”

“Well, you’re just so good I feel like he must be locked in a cage somewhere!”

Our supreme compliment sent us into laughter. We surrounded red-faced Rihyuk, hand on cheek, with a parade of praise. Good work deserves immediate celebration.

“Our fourth is the dance-god king~!”

“Stop it!”

“NewBlack’s main dancer, ‘Seoh Rihyuk — must stop dancing.’ Only ‘he’ can.”

“Then flow!”

We giggled as he tried to hide his smile. Though joking, we knew just how much effort he’d invested to reach this level.

“Ah, it’s nothing special. I just practiced whenever I had free time...”

He’d poured every spare moment into dance. Bi-ju grinned, “The fans are going to love this.”

“Really...?”

“Yeah. When they see the stage, they’ll go wild.”

I could already imagine Soufflé’s proud smiles. Two years ago, Rihyuk showed the greatest choreography growth, and this time would be no different.

As Bi-ju’s praise made Rihyuk beam, I noticed the two fools in the corner plotting something. Before long, they began practicing choreography together with intent faces that nearly made me laugh.

“Number 3 isn’t going to be threatened.”

“Right.”

I asked them, “Which one of you is number 3?”

“Obviously...”

“No need to say...”

“...?”

They glanced at each other, smirked, and froze. Then they fiercely practiced “Bulkkotnori” side by side, like birds fluffing their wings in a mating dance.

“Ahem!”

“Uh-huh!”

...It was a little ridiculous, but I found it endearing. Smiling quietly, I recalled catching Rihyuk rehearsing alone once.

– “What were you doing? Dance practice.”

– “Teach me? Sure, but do you have time? Then just show me a few moves.”

– “...Can you explain how this connects? It’s like watching MiTube at 0.1x speed.”

Because I’d once been a terrible dancer, I could teach more precisely than anyone. And as soon as Rihyuk’s skills improved, those two jokers’ competitive streak kicked in. Using one lackey to rile up another is always effective.

As our impromptu practice party unfolded, my phone buzzed.

Han Taehyun [Getting ready for the showcase—I’m so nervous]

Han Taehyun [Need some words of encouragement]

Me [If you mess up my song, I won’t let you off]

Han Taehyun [Thx thx]

Han Taehyun [Show your hip vibes too, hyung]

Me [😏]

Han Taehyun [😏😏]

We exchanged warm banter as we cheered on the veteran idol on the cusp of his solo debut. Well, I’d given him the song, so he’d handle it.

July 20th.

The day Han Taehyun debuted solo, fans clutched their racing hearts.

– “I can’t do anything today ㅠㅠㅠ ah, I’m so nervous”

– “Search-term blitz—Han Taehyun mood, Han Taehyun solo”

– “Shouldn’t we change it to ‘mood’? My kin went nude..? I was shocked”

– “Currently climbing the charts”

– “When’s the showcase ㅠㅠㅠ I ate chewable Calm pills and I’m a wreck, anyone would think I’m the one performing”

– “Taegoon_please_make_merch_CalmPills”

– “I’m taking the day off for this. Let’s do great, guys ㅠㅠㅠ”

At 8 p.m., his first showcase streamed live on Y-App.

“Taehyoooooong!”

Screams from the venue and living rooms merged. As the performances began, fans covered their mouths in awe.

“Unbelievable...!”

Though he waited too long between releases, whenever TJ Ent. dropped an album, it captured the fandom. I marveled as Taehyun, dressed like a bartender, delivered languid, sexy choreography.

“Not even a stan comment comes to mind.”

He quirkily sang, props of empty bottles lined behind him, a cocktail-bar set. Orange lights bathed the stage as his R&B intro swelled.

‘...This is pure trendiness.’

Even after hearing the track at 6 p.m., it still lodged in my head. Like sipping a cocktail at a rainy-night bar, the intro set a mood for Taehyun to begin.

“The future’s a fog I can’t see

But in my garden

I reach my hand to you...”

He swept his hand through empty air—nothing to grasp—and the fingertips sliced the void.

“A mirage

As if it always was

Here in this place...”

He looked around as if lost in a maze, then rapped out the rhythm, tapping the chair’s armrest.

“I don’t wait

The night here is long

I’ll wander to find you

Always...”

On instinctive “always,” the accompaniment shifted subtly dynamic.

“I won’t miss you

You’re the miracle that came to me

I’ll cross walls

I can endure this pain...”

I hadn’t realized from the streaming track how this song felt like a fan song live. It matched Taehyun’s image perfectly: a singer who once struggled quietly behind but returns each release stronger. Fans knew the effort behind his soft smiles and appreciated it.

It sounded like he was speaking directly to them about his purpose for survival.

I’m a survivor

Always moving on

I’m a survivor

To reach you

On the slightly bursting note, though the range wasn’t high, the refrain repeated itself in the mind.

Under orange lights, his emotive voice carried the chorus: reflecting on the past, speaking of paths ahead. When the final note faded and he set aside the microphone with a gentle smile—

“Woooooooah!”

Fans roared in response.

“Thank you.”

Even as he spoke between songs, they remained entranced by the mood.

“Amazing...”

As promised, the composer said, “I wrote a song to show who Taehyun is.” Tonight, that rang completely true.

“From now on, I’ll bow twice in the direction of Ujuseon every day.”

After the showcase closed with the other title track, “Mood,” fans buzzed about streaming counts, radio slots, MV views. Powered by fandom, Taehyun’s solo songs surged into the real-time charts.

“Huh?”

Casual listeners, puzzled by the unfamiliar album art, glanced at the chart.

“Is that TNT’s Taehyun?”

Seeing his face, they pressed play, and the tracks played through their earbuds.

“This is pretty good.”

When “Mood” played, a fresh song followed: a gentle R&B number, emotional yet upbeat, instantly addictive.

“Nice.”

Rather than standout hooks, the whole song just slid into the ear, begging repeat listens. It felt so trendy it belonged on any pop chart.

“Should I add it to my playlist?”

Fingers tapped in unison overnight. The next morning, commuters spotted the new song at #4 on the chart.

“‘Survivor’...? Never heard of it.”

Considering gold-to-bronze had locked the top three, #4 was basically #1. Curious listeners played it, said “Oh,” and added it to their lists.

“Wow—something not by NewBlack in the top ranks too.”

“I like the different vibe.”

“The song’s so well-written. Whoever composed it made bank.”

They didn’t know Ujuseon was behind it. Like a major retailer quietly stocking other brands, NewBlack was steadily taking over the charts.

“Ha ha ha ha! Worship me, my lackeys!”

“Look at this—our TJ branch snagged #4!”

“Business is booming...! Hyung, who should we franchise next?”

Laughing happily as we arrived at K-net Broadcasting, we couldn’t have felt more fulfilled.