In This Life, The Greatest Star In The Universe

On the video call screen, the blue-haired fairy waved something like a magic wand and smiled brightly.

“Happy Halloween!”

“Halloween?”

“Isn’t it Halloween in Korea? I thought the time difference made it the same day.”

“No. It’s tomorrow.”

When we laughed and told her it was also the thirtieth here, Hailey said, “Oh,” with a bright tone.

“I guess I’m off on the date since I’m not at home. Well, consider this an early greeting. How do you feel about your song dropping soon? Excited, heart-pounding?”

“Yes, I’m a little thrilled.”

She smiled as she answered, and we all stared at her on screen.

‘Why is she so friendly today...?’

‘Why is she being so nice?’

‘Suspicious.’

It wasn’t that she shouldn’t be kind, but for some reason it felt unfamiliar. And we didn’t dare ask, “Why are you being so nice?” lest she show up at Incheon Airport in a kimono.

Just then, Biju asked with a smile,

“But Hailey, what are you wearing right now?”

“Oh.”

She tilted the camera down to show her outfit. It was a witch-style costume.

“I’m getting ready for Halloween. I really didn’t want to ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) wear it, but my daughter insisted...”

As she spoke with a slightly pouty expression, her door opened and someone stepped in.

“Whoa...!”

We all widened our eyes. A small child with short limbs, chubby baby cheeks, and blonde hair like her mother tumbled in.

“Mom!”

“My daughter.”

Hailey sat the child on her lap and said,

“This is my daughter, Summer. Say hello. These are my friends.”

“Hi~!”

We waved, and Summer’s eyes lit up. She grinned and pointed at us.

“She said... something about giving candy. Candy.”

Summer blinked sleepily for a moment, then after greeting us, Hailey played “Blue Moon” for her.

“How is it?”

“Hmm...”

The child beamed with pure happiness.

“I like it!”

Hailey turned back to us.

“Before a song comes out, I usually play it for my family. When I played Blue Moon this time, she loved it. I think Summer reacted better than my husband.”

“Really?”

“She has an uncanny sense for what will be a hit song.”

Hailey tapped her daughter’s chubby cheek affectionately. In front of her child, her tone was unusually gentle—no swearing at all—and we found it pleasant.

Jiho asked,

“So what did Mom say about us?”

“Well, what did she say?

‘Eat candy. Candy.’”

Hailey tried to feed her candy, but Summer held up five fingers.

“Five.”

“Are you bargaining with Mom?”

“Ten.”

“Take it.”

We burst out laughing at the mother-daughter banter.

Meanwhile, a handsome tall man appeared behind Hailey. It was her husband, the famous actor Chris Kyle, whom we’d met before.

“Hello.”

He greeted us as he scooped up Summer.

“Hailey, I think Summer’s costume needs more adjustments. We should tweak it.”

“Um, but I’m in the middle of discussing business.”

Hailey nodded as if negotiating a multi-billion-dollar deal.

“I’ll handle it.”

He winked at us.

“I like the song.”

“Thank you.”

Hailey laughed and kissed him on the cheek.

“All right, then please do it.”

“Got it. Take your time.”

The warmth of this happy family scene filled the room.

Watching the pair leave, we realized why Hailey had called us.

“You didn’t want to work, did you?”

“...No.”

“Be honest.”

“She’s right.”

We all laughed. She’d phoned us simply because she didn’t want to fuss with her daughter’s Halloween costume.

“You keep asking me to make things when I have no crafting skills. Other moms say they do it by hand... I’m horrible at that stuff.”

We laughed at Hailey’s grumbling. Then we guessed her real reason for calling: she was under immense pressure about the song’s performance, just like us. Collaborating with a foreign artist brought extra uncertainty.

“It’ll do well.”

At our comforting words, Hailey turned to Junhyun.

“Magic Potato, what do you think?”

“Um... I’m not sure.”

“This is a smash. It’s gonna blow up.”

Stress relief accomplished. Junhyun’s remark lit up Hailey’s face with a genuine smile.

“At times like this, I’m glad you’re in a group.”

“Yes, that part’s the best. We can all tremble together.”

We talked about meeting soon for talk-show promotions when Hailey asked,

“But what are you doing now? It’s been festive on your side.”

“Oh.”

Ri Hyuk pointed at me.

“We’re watching the sitcom you appear in.”

“Oh.”

“They cry in today’s episode.”

“So it’s not a festival but Sunny’s funeral. Good luck.”

As my younger members laughed, I glared playfully at Hailey.

“You don’t have to watch.”

“What are you saying? We’re family!”

The youngest spoke firmly.

“Family shares both joy and sorrow. You can’t avoid sad things.”

“I’m not sad. I’m just embarrassed.”

“It’s okay.”

“No it’s not...”

All of them replied at once.

“We’re okay~!”

I sighed at my clinging siblings, then looked at the youngest. It was her fault. She’d told everyone, “Hyung’s crying in the scene!” and caused this. I’d planned to hide in my room, but now...

“...Let go. I won’t go anywhere.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Helpless, I braced myself to watch. In my mind, I saw the hero in the car movie who weeps on a skewer in a whitewashed world.

On TV appeared the TBC logo and “Our Family Is Alien – Finale.”

“Hyung.”

Biju, peeling an apple, asked,

“So is it longer today?”

“Yes. Thirty minutes longer than usual.”

The sitcom normally runs fifty minutes to an hour, but for the finale it had been extended by thirty minutes. Its success allowed other programs to be bumped.

“They say it’ll hit the highest viewership ever.”

Ri Hyuk, checking a tablet, said,

“The live comments are flooding in fast. Even VOD watchers have tuned in.”

“Wow... it’s true. So many people.”

The comments scrolled by like on the Y app.

I felt odd. Happy that so many were watching the finale, but thinking of everyone seeing me cry... it gave me goosebumps.

I wondered if I’d overacted, if it was too much emotion.

Junhyun asked,

“Are you nervous, Hyung?”

“Not nervous... just embarrassed.”

I thought I should only show my smiling side, so it felt awkward to reveal another side. I scratched my head, then forced a peaceful smile.

Well. It’s out there already. I just hoped people would enjoy it.

“Don’t worry about embarrassment. You told me when my button popped that this too shall pass.”

“Thanks.”

“Of course, we won’t pass over it~”

We all laughed, slapping the sofa.

“Whew...”

As I turned back to the TV, Biju offered me a slice of apple he’d been peeling.

“Hyung, have an apple~”

“Thanks...”

Then I noticed the little “ㅠㅠ” carved into it and fell silent, seeing Biju’s mournful expression.

“Put your hand down.”

“No... heh heh.”

“...”

Sometimes I forgot, but Biju is one of us.

As I bit into the apple with a sad face, the youngest pointed at the TV.

“Oh! It’s starting!”

After the rating warning, the finale opened with Agent Kim Woo-ju fleeing through a misty mountainside as the alien family gave chase, their garments fluttering.

[Agent! Stop right there!]

[I won’t eat you, just stand still.]

Their eerie whisper chased him until he stumbled...

“Whoaah!”

“W-what?”

He tumbled down the slope and lay dazed, staring at the sky, with the aliens looming over him—the scene cut to white.

Back to the aliens’ point of view:

“Huh?”

“What is it? Are you okay?!”

They’d crept up on him and been startled when he ran, easing the tense mood.

Meanwhile, drama fans online debated:

“He’s out of character;;”

“They say Kim Woo-ju would interrogate on the spot.”

“Feels off.”

“From the start, he’s off... this is weird.”

“Is it really off? I’d be confused too.”

Then in the finale’s first half, the humor came from Agent Woo-ju’s memory loss and his awkward chats with the family, mixed with suspense.

“It’s so tenseㅋㅋㅋ”

“Like a horror-film director doing action—those who do camp sometimes do thriller well.”

“Edge-of-your-seat.”

“Just tell me, are the aliens bad or not?”

But as time passed, the truth emerged: unlike Woo-ju’s prediction, the aliens tried desperately to restore his memory.

[Is there a reason I need to regain my memory?]

He was puzzled. He, a gray agent with no lingering attachments, found kindness stranger than hostility. They insisted he not cross an unseen line, yet they crossed it themselves.

Their color seeped into him.

“You might not know, but you’re important to us.”

A crimson glow bathed Woo-ju’s face as he turned, his eyes beginning to shine with something. Memories of chaotic accidents and the joy of fixing them flashed through his mind.

“...I know you’re not really amnesiac.”

“You can tell by looking.”

The aliens smiled quietly. Woo-ju cleared his throat and began to speak.

“Did they clear everything up like that?”

“Yes.”

The finale’s first episode ended. Onscreen, Woo-ju listened to the aliens explain:

“This is our funeral culture.”

“Funeral culture?”

“Yes! Though we seem long-lived, we also have lifespans. Before death, we turn our kin into these orbs and seal them.”

“To defer death forever until we develop new life-extension technology.”

“So my family...”

“They were likely victims of pirates who abuse this tech. They tried to abduct your family but failed.”

“Pirates?”

“Even on your planet, people stab others with cooking knives.”

For Woo-ju, these details mattered little.

“Can they restore them?”

“They can. But not with our ship’s current condition.”

Mid-scene, Junhyun munched popcorn and asked,

“So is the solution coming up now?”

“Yes.”

The space pirates appeared in gaudy outfits—they’d attacked the aliens, causing their crash. The youngest onlookers said,

“But the villains look so lame, like Ri Hyuk.”

“Extra-level thugs.”

“...Quiet.”

Thus flowed the second half of episode ten: the underarmed aliens and Woo-ju outwitting enemies with inventive traps, aided by townspeople who’d befriended them.

After their narrow victory, the scene we’d waited for began. Under a clear sky, a recovered Woo-ju stood alone on a mountain, breathing deeply before a cluster of orbs and a device with a red button.

“...”

He trembled with fear, excitement, and anxiety—could one press solve everything? Would he see his family again? A close-up showed his quivering fingertip.

Leaves rustled as autumn wind swirled, mirroring his heart. All sound ceased on the TV. In perfect silence, his hand pressed the button.

“...”

Woo-ju opened his eyes—nothing happened. He pressed again, hearing only the hollow click. As he covered his face with his hand, a voice called,

“Woo-ju.”

His hand froze. He lifted his head—and the background faded to white. In the void stood his family, as in photographs, their features hazy. His vision blurred at the reunion he’d searched for twenty years.

Clack— the device fell from his hand. The orbs must have informed his family, who beckoned him forward. With a cry, he threw himself into their arms and wept.

It was their first reunion in twenty years.

“......”

I thought, Ah, this is so embarrassing. Watching myself bawl with eyes shut felt mortifying. I fanned my face and turned away.

“Hey, this is really...”

I blinked at voices.

Sniffles, hiccups, sobs!

Jiho clung to Ri Hyuk’s shoulder with swollen eyes; Ri Hyuk hugged a book; Biju and Junhyun leaned on each other, eyes red.

“......”

On the sofa, these grubby kids sat huddled, gulping popcorn and bawling their eyes out.