In This Life, The Greatest Star In The Universe

Ten days had passed since we successfully wrapped up our debut showcase.

In the meantime, we’d been busy with music shows, photoshoots, and small events, and today we were on a new schedule.

“Nice to see you again.”

In a café near the public hall of HBS in Deungchon-dong, a reporter seated in a corner on the second floor greeted us.

She had sharp eyes and an urbane air.

“I’m Oh So-hee of Entertainment IN. We met at the showcase, right?”

“Yes! Hello!”

We bowed deeply at her greeting, and Oh smiled.

She told us to relax, so we sat down, swallowing hard.

Our first official interview since debut.

We’d done plenty of interviews during Something, but never one without senior Jang So-won or Manager Seok-hwan standing by.

Mingi hyung had come along, but honestly, he wouldn’t help much.

“I remember your director was always with you. Where is he today?”

“He’s away in a meeting,” our road manager answered, and Oh nodded.

“Then shall we start among ourselves...hmm?”

Oh paused, phone’s record button at the ready, at the sight of our frantic movements.

All of us were switching off our phones in unison.

She laughed as if she found it charming.

“Did the company tell you to do that?”

“No, Woo-joo hyung kept nagging us the whole way here. He said it’s polite to switch off phones during interviews. If any of you let one ring, I’ll follow you all day nagging about it.”

Her remark broke the ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) ice, and we all laughed, our shoulders loosening.

A bit of tension drained away.

We were still self-conscious about the customers at nearby tables staring or snapping photos, but there was nothing to be done.

We’d officially entered the entertainment world now.

As Mingi hyung walked away to shoo them off, the interview began.

“First off, congratulations are in order. As of the 27th, the Firework music video surpassed a million views, right? I heard that’s a record for a rookie idol not from one of the Big Four agencies.”

That was exactly why we were here.

A million views.

Although we’d had requests before, Lemon Entertainment had been reluctant, worried a bad article might stall our momentum.

Some might call it needless worry, but after what DNS Media pulled, it wasn’t paranoia.

Yet now that we’d hit a million, avoiding interviews seemed unwise.

So they picked a favorable reporter.

Judging by her expression, she seemed nice—maybe even rooting for us, though I probably imagined that.

“Firework’s momentum is strong. It debuted around 70 on the Mango Chart in week one and now sits at 53, right? In an era when charting is so difficult, that’s amazing.”

Embarrassing as the praise was, it wasn’t untrue.

In the 2010s, with idol fandoms streaming nonstop, Firework’s ascent was incredible.

We weren’t someone like Yoon Chan-hyuk, whom people check out just because his name’s out, nor did we have a fandom as formidable as TNT’s, yet here we were.

Even we felt dazed, grabbing our phones the moment we woke to check the charts.

After the chat about rankings, she shifted topics.

“The no-MR live video also stirred quite a buzz, right?”

“Yes. We got a lot of undeserved praise. What stuck with us was a comment saying we sounded like a group made up only of main vocalists. We were so happy to read that.”

She laughed knowingly.

“Now New Black is hot in idol communities. Do you feel that in daily life? Do people recognize you on the street?”

“I don’t think so,” I said with a smile.

“During Something, more people recognized us. I guess as rookies fewer people know us now. And honestly, it’s more comfortable with less attention.”

Unless you’re a nationwide idol like TNT, ask random passersby to name idols and few could name three.

It was natural most people didn’t know us.

All the more reason to work harder.

We were chatting happily when Oh asked the question we’d expected.

“How is your relationship with Street Boys these days? Before debut there was a rivalry narrative. Especially Woo-joo, with your composer-idol image, you and Hanzo were often mentioned together.”

Street Boys.

We’d never spoken to them directly since debut—just a passing greeting.

It was awkward after their diss, and the vibe between the companies’ managers wasn’t warm.

I couldn’t tell the reporter “we don’t care and we never talk,” so I prepared to give the standard answer.

“We think of them as our fellow debut class.”

Led by Bijoo’s calm voice, the members chimed in one by one as if easing my burden.

That was right—good job, my kids.

Considering how we froze in interviews during Something, this was huge progress.

Watching them each speak up, Oh laughed.

“Oh, I asked because I interviewed Street Boys recently, and one member said New Black was the group he’d like to get close to. Specifically Ri-hyeok.”

“...What? Me?”

Ri-hyeok and the others were stunned.

“With me?”

“With our Ri-hyeok?”

“Uh, why?”

A perfectly raw reaction.

While our main vocalist widened his eyes, Oh So-hee laughed out loud.

I clutched my throbbing head.

“Reporter, about what my members said just now...”

“I know, I’ll skip that question. Our PR head begged me not to ask it anyway.”

Oh smiled and asked,

“Let me change the question. I heard Street Boys will start filming their second reality show on K-Net soon. What about New Black’s future activities? Any broadcast plans?”

“Apart from music shows, we don’t have anything yet. But whatever opportunity comes, we’ll give it our all.”

“Hm, so none yet.”

She looked disappointed.

“Pre-interview research showed that since New Black has less broadcast exposure, there’s debate online.”

“Debate?”

“Firework’s one of the most successful self-written idol songs. Since it’s so good, many question whether it’s really self-written.”

“Oh.”

“I wondered if the company plans to showcase your composing going forward.”

That had never occurred to me, so I paused.

But it didn’t take long to answer.

With a smile and calm voice I said,

“As for that... I believe there will be opportunities to show you in the future.”

Wow. This is hardcore.

Back at the HBS public hall for the music show schedule, my legs shook with every step up the stairs.

The kids were tense, worried one of them might say the wrong thing.

When the interview ended, we all felt drained.

Like soggy squid, we shuffled along.

Seeing my expression, Bijoo approached.

“Don’t mind what the reporter said earlier.”

“Huh?”

“About composing.”

Ah, right.

“It’s just because the song’s so good. Don’t listen to jealous people.”

“Seriously. I don’t know why they leave comments like that.”

Our team’s worst chatterbox added, and Jung-hyun joined in.

“Those people will fade away soon.”

“Jung-hyun, use fists when you say that. It’s scary.”

“Sorry.”

“Right, Woo-joo hyung. Ignore weird people.”

Our maknae slurped his macchiato as he spoke casually, and I smiled.

He cared about the eldest brother’s feelings, too.

My kids are so kind.

I’d feel dishonest if I said I wasn’t bothered by the idea that some doubted our composing.

But it didn’t worry me as much as they did.

Composition isn’t something you can prove by showing—it takes time.

Well, if we get the chance, great.

I thought about saying we were just tired, but their concern made me stay silent.

“By the way, you said the director went to a meeting. Could it be about our schedule? Maybe we’ll be on a new show?”

“I was wondering the same. Mingi hyung, did you hear anything?”

Our road manager seemed to recall something.

“Well, I heard he went to Sangam-dong.”

“Sangam—so TBC?”

K-Net’s building was there too, but relations with our company were poor.

High probability it was TBC. Beyond that, we knew nothing, so that was our best guess.

We’d find out when it was set.

With that thought, we returned to the fifth-floor waiting room.

We navigated the makeshift space marked by blue partitions to find our room.

“Oh, you’re back.”

Yoon Seok-hwan greeted us, shirt tails fluttering as he cooled off.

He saw my face and laughed.

“You look half your face is gone.”

“Don’t remind me. I was so nervous thinking we’d have to do the interview ourselves...”

As I complained, the younger brothers waved me off, mouthing something like “you always do great.”

Those rascals.

Seok-hwan chuckled.

“You did well.”

“Please come with us more, hyung. It’s so hard without you. I didn’t even know what to say.”

“Get used to it, kid. You debuted, I’m busy doing promo. You’ll have to get used to going around with Mingi from now on.”

Since the unaccompanied live, I’d noticed a lot of trust in his gaze.

As if he finally thought he could leave us to our own devices.

I wished it were a misunderstanding.

“So, was the TBC meeting okay?”

“TBC? How did you know about that?”

“I heard from Mingi hyung he went to Sangam-dong. I figured it was for a broadcast invite.”

His face showed slight surprise.

Relieved we didn’t know what was up, Seok-hwan relaxed.

It smelled suspiciously exciting.

But before I could ask more, our manager changed the topic.

With news that made our ears perk up.

“We’ve got a broadcast schedule.”

“A schedule? What is it?”

“A radio show.”

We looked curious, and he explained.

“It’s Wonderful Night, the radio program hosted by Jang So-won.”

Jang So-won’s Wonderful Night.

HBS’s flagship radio show from 8 PM to 10 PM.

Our date is July 6.

Exactly one week later, on Sunday.

“They’re doing a rookie boy-group special. I heard from the writer that Jang So-won strongly recommended you.”

When we parted in May he joked he’d invite us someday.

I never expected him to actually follow through.

We felt thrilled by the new schedule—until Seok-hwan delivered disappointing news.

“Only two of you will go.”

“Why?”

“Your segment is a competition. You compete in story consultations and a live performance.”

So they decided our best singer Ri-hyeok and second-best, me, would go.

We all accepted that.

But the next bit made us frown.

“Who’s the rival team?”

“Street Boys.”

After the last month, hearing that name was anything but welcome.

“Cheer up, hyungs.”

After pre-recording was over and only the live broadcast remained, I rested at the snack bar.

Bijoo and Jung-hyun had gone off for errands, so it was just the two maknaes and me.

Our menu was, of course, the famous sandwich from .

Seeing the maknae cheerfully devour his sandwich while telling us to hang in there left me with mixed feelings.

“If you’re cheering me on, why are you so excited?”

“Well, of course. It’s not me going on.”

“....”

“Aah... Why are you staring while I’m eating?”

He pulled at his chewy cheeks like rice cake, and I glanced sideways.

Normally Ri-hyeok would join in the teasing, but he was staring intently at his phone.

“What are you looking at?”

“Checking the news. I heard in the interview someone said they wanted to get close to me.”

“Oh, that. I was curious too.”

Who could have said such a thing?

He tapped the screen and brought up the article.

It was the Street Boys interview.

As Oh reported, the quote was there.

It came from a maknae member named Ki-won.

“He said he wanted to get close because he recognized my face from the same agency... what’s that about? He said we were in the same agency.”

Ri-hyeok blinked, and the maknae perked up as if he’d remembered.

“Oh! I think I know! He’s Yoon Ki-won, right?”

“They didn’t use the surname.”

“But it must be him.”

Ji-ho started chatting away.

“He’s in my school, vocal class B. I heard he was from Eoulrim before. Hyung, weren’t you in Eoulrim before our company?”

“Eoulrim? I was there a bit.”

As Ri-hyeok tried to recall, I frowned.

Why would they do that interview?

They must know about the diss rap, so I didn’t understand why they’d pick me as the idol they wanted to get close to.

Maybe it came from past association and wasn’t well-meaning.

Or perhaps it was some elaborate scheme.

As those thoughts raced, a shadow fell over us mid-sandwich.

“Um....”

A calm mid-range voice.

I looked up, forcing a neutral expression.

Standing before us was our opponent.

Hanzo.

Leader of Street Boys and the one who’d embarrassed us with his diss rap.

What was he doing?

Before we could recover from the shock of someone speaking to us ten days after debut, Hanzo’s next action stunned us all.

“Please take this.”

He held out two fifty-thousand-won bills.