In This Life, The Greatest Star In The Universe

There’s a saying that “though the beginning may be humble, the end will be glorious.”

I don’t know how this will end, but one thing was certain: the start of Our Family Is Alien was glorious.

Articles about the sitcom that ended over the weekend kept spilling into the next week.

“Sitcom ‘Our Family Is Alien’ Posts Blockbuster Ratings from Episode One... 13.8% Marks Revival of the Sitcom”

“‘Alien Family’... Chemistry of the Aliens Wins Over Viewers, ‘Ratings Boom with Good Reason’”

“[Star☆Report] Viewers Buzz Over Teasers from Episode One... Three Must-Watch Points for ‘Alien Family’”

That a Sunday 10 p.m. sitcom scored nearly 13.8% from its very first episode seemed to shock everyone involved.

Our TF team leader explained in detail.

“If you’re hitting numbers like this, the network’s already talking about overseas rights. China and Japan must be circling.”

“That serious?”

“Southeast Asia probably reached out even before this. Especially since you’re starring in it.”

“Ohho.”

Seokhwan grinned.

“It’s a mega hit, man. Back in the mid-2000s when daily sitcoms were all the rage, ratings were in the twenties—and that was starting from eight percent.”

“Whoa....”

“I don’t know how high it’ll climb, but if this upward trend continues, who knows?”

Our manager’s eyes sparkled.

“Maybe Our Family Is Alien will make sitcom history. Everyone’s speculating, but I’m optimistic.”

“I think so, too.”

Though cast and crew weren’t exchanging grand proclamations, the air was charged with certainty: this might really blow up.

Perhaps because of that buzz, HBS and PBS were rumored to be considering their own sitcom ventures.

And then...

“What’s this...?”

After Episode One ended, a stack of scripts and synopses arrived for me.

“Movies and dramas. They poured in all at once. The staff in charge nearly cried sorting them.”

“Wow, there are so many. Jiho would love this.”

If our youngest saw them, he’d say, “I’m in heaven!” as he buried himself in the pages.

Seokhwan looked at me and asked,

“You want any of these?”

“No.”

I pushed them aside without looking. Maybe one of these would be a blockbuster, but I wasn’t that interested.

“I only did the sitcom to branch out, you know? To see what else I could try alongside my singing career.”

I’d started acting to take on a new challenge.

“If nothing really grabs me later, I’ll put acting on hold.”

“It’s not as fun as singing, is it?”

“Nope.”

I laughed at him.

“Even with just one episode a week, it’s exhausting. If I treated it as a full-time gig... ugh...”

I remembered Senior Seo Noeul trembling under a blanket on the Sleep set, and I shook my head before smiling at the synopses.

“But it feels good.”

“Right? Look at all the recognition our Sun Wooju’s getting for his acting.”

“Heeheehee.”

The manager and I chuckled. In the past, the roles offered were mere appetizers; now it felt like a full course.

“Ta-da~”

I took a selfie in front of the tower of synopses to send to my siblings, grinning brightly.

Me [God of Acting... his name is Sun Wooju...]

Jung Junhyun [God of Acting Kim Junhyun]

Jung Junhyun [(photo)]

Me [What’s that?]

Jung Junhyun [It’s my acting while grilling meat]

Jung Junhyun [Oops, it burned]

Jung Junhyun [ㅠㅠㅠ]

I laughed at Junhyun’s warm smile in the photo he sent from behind his grill.

[rumbly stomach]

Overcome by hunger, I asked Seokhwan,

“Are we done here? Shall we go get something to eat? You look drained—let’s have some beef.”

“Just a sec, a few more things.”

Apparently a few personal gigs had come in. My suit fit had impressed someone—there was an ad from a luxury suit brand, and a magazine wanted me for a suit photoshoot and interview. And...

“There’s something about the On the Stage recording.”

We’d been reminded of a few things about our mentor appearance on HBS’s survival show On the Stage this week.

After that,

“All set? Let’s go eat meat—meat~!”

“One more thing.”

Seokhwan straightened and adopted a serious expression. His face was so grave I paid close attention.

“Wooju.”

“Yeah?”

“So... what’s that orb at the end of Episode One?”

I sat up straight, earnestly.

“Hey Seokhwan, want a good tip?”

“Sure.”

“Just watch the live broadcast.”

“...”

Seokhwan went rigid, and I burst out laughing. Still, for someone normally indifferent to most things, his curiosity proved how well the sitcom was doing.

“Let’s go eat.”

I bumped his back with a smile.

With Episode One’s success, our schedules filled up fast. We had to honor our ratings pledges. I appeared on TBC’s entertainment news segment “Hot Sitcom! Behind the Scenes of the Set!” and charmed them a bit. I did several interviews with entertainment reporters—

“[OH Column by Reporter Oh] NewBlack’s Wooju: ‘A spaceship..? Could you introduce me as Kim Wooju?’①”

I even /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ reunited with Reporter Oh Sohee, who wrote a wonderfully enthusiastic piece.

While I stayed busy, my siblings were busy, too. Ri Hyuk recorded an OST, Junhyun worked on a mixtape, our maknae filmed a web drama. Biju practiced choreography like his life depended on it for this week’s competition. Each day, the rest of Team Apple looked increasingly gaunt.

Scattered as we were, though, it felt good to be together.

“This time apart is a good experience, right?”

“Absolutely.”

The maknae giggled.

“A chance to appreciate the hyungs again?”

“Exactly. Without you guys... there’s no one to rely on...” 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

“I was so bored on set with no one to hang out with.”

“...you really are hopeless.”

“They say clear water upstream makes clear water downstream.”

“....”

I went quiet, staring into space, until Ri Hyuk grinned and extended his hand.

“Not bad.”

“You used what I taught you, right?”

The two maknae high-fived and erupted in giggles. Being spread out had its perks: they’d grown closer.

“Hey, did you eat snacks? You’ve got crumbs on your hand.”

“Wow, look at you, so neat. Who cleans their hand with a wet wipe right after a high-five?”

“Before that, you should clean your own hand.”

“My hands are so cute! My sister says they’re the prettiest in the world!”

“You’re impossible.”

Maybe not, but in any case, our car was exploding with happy chaos.

Minki in the passenger seat turned up the music.

“Wahahahaha!”

“Hehehehehe! Let’s party~~”

I signaled and our song started playing.

“Ah...”

Nine washed over me, calming my heart. Hearing another artist’s song was fine, but ours reminded me of every misstep on stage.

“Wahaha!”

“Heh-hah!”

I regained calm and looked out the window. Heat shimmered off the asphalt, and cars filled the road. We were heading to KM Entertainment in Yongsan-gu—for our mentor role on On the Stage.

“So the team mission is to perform our song?”

“Yep.”

“That’s wild. Trainees from major agencies are practicing our song, too.”

As befits a program aiming to crown the next third-generation idol icons—after TNT and TeenSpirit—our song had become the theme. Ri Hyuk, studying Russian on his e-reader, added,

“Our song’s used in end-of-month evaluations everywhere.”

“Really?”

“They said Street Boys trainees are practicing it since it’s such a challenge.”

“It is tough. Fans keep calling this choreography legendary.”

Ri Hyuk nodded silently and stared off, like some painful memory surfaced:

‘Wow, this choreography is brilliant.’

‘Now it’s your turn.’

‘...Me?’

‘From now on, this is your routine, Ri Hyuk.’

While the siblings chatted about On the Stage, I stared at my phone. I’d jotted all kinds of messy ideas for the album title track—some casual, some intense—yet nothing stood out. With the end of the month fast approaching, that project lagged.

Biju asked,

“Have you thought of a title track, hyung?”

“Not really.”

They laughed.

“I heard clearing your mind helps.”

“Oh.”

Junhyun, curious, interjected,

“What if your mind’s already empty?”

“Junhyun.”

“Why?”

“...Never mind.”

Biju shot Junhyun a disapproving look, then smiled kindly at me.

“Go see things on set today. Maybe inspiration will strike.”

“That’s exactly my plan.”

During the On the Stage shoot, we’d also film a NewBlack TV feature: The Big Four Agency Tour② KM Entertainment edition—meeting fresh trainees on the cusp of debut.

“Maybe I’ll get a good idea.”

I smiled contentedly, but the siblings waved urgent hands.

“No, hyung!”

“Why not?”

“They’re someone else’s kids. It’d be weird if we critiqued them.”

“When do I ever critique?”

Our managers and siblings chimed in simultaneously.

“We should record that and play it for A&R and producers.”

“Wooju hyung’s shamelessness is world-class.”

“Maybe they think you’re a two-armed composing machine, not a person.”

Laughter erupted. Ri Hyuk tutted.

“I’ve memorized his pattern: he looks pensive and says, ‘Ah... I’m stuck. Let’s outsource this one,’ and A&R panics and commissions an external track.”

“Hahaha!”

“He’ll pull that after the deadline: ‘Oops! What do we do? I wrote a new song~’”

They joked that he might even wager his World Literature volumes, and we laughed so hard I looked away embarrassed. It had been two or three years since we met, and they knew me well.

“Nice banter today, Ri Hyuk—you’d do great on variety.”

“I’m always this chatty.”

I smiled at them.

“But seriously... let’s keep it chill today.”

“What’s wrong with us?”

“....”

They all looked away.

“Today, let’s be the dignified seniors we are.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

I laughed.

“We’re meeting trainees. Let’s exude senior vibes. Hey, Junhyun.”

Junhyun raised his hand.

“Hyung, how do we show senior vibes better on camera today?”

“Just mimic the seniors around you.”

“...But examples of suitable seniors...”

“Oh.”

Unbidden, voices echoed in my head:

“Waaah! They called us seniors! We’re dongsaengs!”

“Damn it. Whoever put gum in my paper cup, go to hell. Oh, it’s the manager? Go to heaven, then.”

“Beef! Hyung, I’m so happy! I might cry~!”

Those weren’t ideal role models. I scrolled back two years in my mind to find someone more appropriate.

“Let’s channel Senior Jang Sowon’s vibe.”

“Got it.”

The brothers smiled warmly and nodded. In the distance, KM Entertainment’s sleek headquarters came into view. We linked hands.

“Alright, let’s kill it at today’s shoot!”

“We will!”

“Let’s show these trainees what a third-year rookie senior looks like!”

“Peep peep!”

We laughed as we pumped ourselves up. Our managers in the front seats beamed and nodded.

“Why, hyung? You don’t trust us?”

“Just prove it....”

Minki’s wistful look made us burst out laughing.

KM Entertainment.

If you asked most people to name Korea’s top agency, they’d say TJ Entertainment. If you then asked who was second, they’d point to KM Entertainment. Though a later entrant than TJ, KM was famous for distinctive, hip-hop-based idol groups with huge overseas followings.

Lately, though, they’d wavered.

“Wooju, I’ve realized something: idols are all about character. Character....”

Once the six-member group Sixty Seconds—who’d outshone TNT—plummeted after their nasty recording leaked. The hip-hop quartet Blink, who debuted around our time, held strong, but MOP Entertainment—with TeenSpirit and girl-group top dog Serenity—was growing massive power. The absence of a powerhouse boy group driving revenue at the major agencies was the culprit. So KM had launched the ambitious On the Stage.

[Vote to Debut KM Entertainment’s New Idol!]

With huge investment and recent acquisitions of smaller labels, KM rounded up all its trainees—and even accepted outside hopefuls—for a grueling audition. Their single-minded drive paid off: from Episode One, the show made headlines and broke ratings records daily.

“‘On the Stage’ Proves HBS and KM’s Grit Worked... ‘Crazy Survival’”

“Controversial Broadcast Draws Viewer Complaints on HBS’s On the Stage”

“‘Debut Demands Grit’... Is HBS On the Stage Really the Right Direction?”

Critics slammed the show daily, but popularity soared in inverse proportion. Seokhwan said it was like a media war between KM-friendly reporters and rival agencies.

“Let’s stay serious and do this right.”

“...”

Outside KM Entertainment’s headquarters, cameras clicked as reporters—who’d somehow caught wind of our arrival—shouted questions.

“Wooju! Over here!”

“You really ditched florals? Much better.”

“You look handsome! Always dress like this!”

Laughter erupted among the press.

“Unfortunately the florals are gone. Now I just wear what the members pick for me.”

“You look great anyway.”

While the reporters agreed excitedly,

“How do you feel about today’s On the Stage recording?”

“Time’s up—sorry! We’ll send our thoughts in a press release later.”

“Wait...!”

“We’re coming through!”

Minki deftly negotiated with the headline-hungry journalists and led us inside.

Inside the lobby, Plankton CEO—no, Representative Heo Kangmin—came running toward us, followed by his team. We ran to meet them, breathless, then he spotted our NewBlack TV camera.

“Are we filming already?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s do it again!”

With mock solemnity, he led us back for another take of the NewBlack TV opening.

“We’re here at KM Entertainment. We’ll be mentoring on On the Stage.”

“This is KM Entertainment’s Representative Heo Kangmin!”

“Waaaah!”

He introduced himself and joined us in shouting “Subscribe, like, and turn on notifications!”

“Could you give us a tour of the building?”

“Of course—but first...”

He flashed a knowing smile.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“We’re always hungry.”

“In that case, let me show you our cafeteria—and we’ll grab a bite.”

“Oh! The cafeteria!”

He’d been urging us to visit for a chef-cooked beef meal. Expectantly, we followed him into the restaurant—an upscale, gourmet-style space.

“Wow...”

“At least when it comes to dining, our cafeteria is the best in the entertainment industry.”

“Wow...”

A banner reading Welcome NewBlack! hung above us. As we took it in, Heo Kangmin winked, as if saying, “How about joining us?”

Our maknae took a deep breath and bowed to the camera.

“Representative Park Gyuho, I’m sorry!”

“And we’re sorry, too!”

Our playful apologies drew laughter from everyone.