In This Life, The Greatest Star In The Universe

Splash.

With my eyes closed, lying back, the sound of water tickles my ears.

Someone runs their fingers through my hair.

“Is the temperature okay?”

“Yes, it’s fine.”

A perfunctory question, a perfunctory answer.

As the assistant at the hair salon shampooed my hair, I drifted off to sleep.

A shaking hand roused me; I sat up in front of the mirror.

The clock read 4 a.m.

While my hair dried, I saw bodies sprawled on the sofa behind the mirror.

Jung-hyun lay flat on his back, arms tangled with Ji-ho; Bi-ju and Ri-hyuk nodded off in their chairs.

Next to them, Mingi hyung and the actor road manager who’d come to support us sat with baseball caps pulled low.

Only the expressionless stylists moved.

So quiet.

Later at the station we’d be laughing and talking, but at this hour everyone was corpse-quiet.

Truly fitting for a Monday.

I’d woken up at this time for the music show.

Those who only know the three terrestrial broadcasters and K-Net would ask “Huh? A music show on Monday?” But there is.

It’s just that the main broadcast airs another day.

Today’s [N O V E L I G H T] recording is called “Global K-Pop,” Korean TV’s music show promoting Korea in English.

The actual recording starts at 10, but standby is at 7, so we’re up preparing like this already.

Well.

Still better than stumbling in at 4 a.m. by accident.

“You look tired today. Did you not sleep?”

“No, I slept as usual. Must be because of yesterday’s radio schedule.”

“Oh, right, you said you had a radio appearance?”

As I chatted with the stylist, a familiar young face plopped into the next chair.

“Ugh, I feel like I’m going to die.”

The zombie youngest leaned on me, groaning.

“Why again?”

“My sore spots from when you and Ri-hyuk hyung hit me keep aching.”

“Hey, when did I ever hit you?”

The tired faces smiled at my denial.

As my hair was dried, Ji-ho, who’d wobbled like a roly-poly, suddenly remembered.

“Oh, I was mistaken. Must’ve been in a dream.”

“Hey.”

“But my body does ache. You two kept pinching me from behind, doing wrestling moves.”

Well. True enough.

After the radio, on the way back to the dorm, we’d watched wrestling and jiu-jitsu moves on MyTube to commit them to muscle memory.

“You deserve it, you know.”

“But thanks to me, the broadcast got content, right? Admit that?”

“You’re shameless, never even a change in complexion.”

“What can I do? It’s my charm.”

I was too tired to retort. I gave a small laugh and shook my head. Ji-ho picked up his smartphone and tapped his favorites bar with a familiar motion. Soon the yellow mango-shaped icon appeared.

I wonder what our ranking is today?

Too tired to check my phone earlier.

As far as I remembered, “Fireworks” had been stuck in the same spot—early forties on the charts. It had briefly spiked to 39 yesterday.

I was about to ask the youngest our ranking when I glanced in the mirror and was puzzled.

Why is he like that?

His eyes were comically huge, like a cartoon character’s.

“Ji-ho, what’s up?”

“Hyung. ‘Night Sea’ is a real-time search term on Mango, right?”

“What?”

“I searched and found the song. It’s ranked 135.”

“Wait, wait.”

My mind spun.

“What are you saying? That after yesterday’s radio schedule, the song went up on the charts?”

“Yep.”

“How is that possible?”

“Look here. 135.”

He thrust his phone at me.

Sure enough, “Night Sea” was listed at 135.

Even the album art was there.

A song we hastily put together just a week ago had become a released track, ranking quite high.

There are two people who could explain this phenomenon, but neither was here.

The stylists behind me also looked on curiously.

“Ji-ho, how did this happen?”

“I dunno. What is it?”

Finally, the only two awake in the room each began searching on their phones.

After a moment, browsing idol communities and portals, I found the cause.

[Best] Reaction of military-veteran idol to discharge joke.gif

“....”

I turned with a chilly look. Only empty chairs swiveled in response.

Green room for “Global K-Pop.”

“...New Black’s appearance on HBS SuperFM ‘Jang Sa-won’s Wonderful Night’ has become a hot topic. On that broadcast, members Woo-ju and Ri-hyuk showcased clever advice segments and a spectacular live performance. Meanwhile, Woo-ju’s original song ‘Night Sea,’ premiered on the show, captivated listeners and the DJ with its lyrical atmosphere and heartfelt backstory.”

A pleasant mid-low voice recited the article like rap.

“However, after the broadcast ended, the biggest topic was Woo-ju’s expression. In response to a listener comment joking about reenlisting in the military as a number-one pledge, his reaction sent the DJ and guests into hysterics...”

I massaged my throbbing temples and tapped the smartphone screen.

The screen of abuse articles faded, revealing the earlier community best post.

Comments had grown:

At first I wondered why it was a hot topic, then seeing the gif I understood.

No wonder people laughed.

And because it was about the military, it spread not only in idol communities but across other sites.

Man, is there nothing else to laugh about?

What’s funny... it is funny.

I have nowhere to vent this blazing emotion.

“Hyung, don’t worry. Last time with the soufflé, the community post popped up then died out too.”

“Bi-ju, I appreciate it.”

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you laughing too much?”

“No, hyung. I’m serious-faced too.”

Even the second member, skilled at facial control, could barely suppress laughter. The rest were snickering over their phones.

“You’re all so excited.”

“Honestly, what can we do? Wow. Seeing the gif, it’s art.”

“You should know it’s all thanks to me.”

“This is called luck.”

The fourth, cheeks flushed, was delighted. Eating dried sweet potato like popcorn.

Beside him, the third member beamed at fan café posts.

They must be interesting.

I wanted to ask about the reaction, but couldn’t bring myself to.

And.

The culprit behind it all sat beside me, glancing nervously.

“Woo-ju hyung, look on the bright side.”

“What?”

“Well, thanks to this beautiful expression change, good things happen to us. You burned yourself to save us.”

“I burned to death?”

“Uh, no, not that. Ow...”

The youngest twisted in confusion, and I pinched his side.

“Still, reaction’s good.”

Yoon Seok-hwan, who’d been checking his phone, smiled with satisfaction.

“Ji-ho’s right. The live got attention because of it.”

“Hyung, I’m not in it at all, am I?”

“How could that be? I’m just happy as a manager at my artist’s success.”

I clicked my tongue at the relentlessly cheerful math ghost. I had no allies.

Yet they weren’t wrong. My unintended facial moment becoming a topic boosted our name recognition.

“Funny, who’s that? ‘Who’s Woo-ju?’” and so on.

Complex causes were at play, but one certainty: thanks to it, “Night Sea” became a hot topic.

“I didn’t expect them to release the song so fast.”

“After you mentioned your original song, the director ordered it immediately. We’d been preparing it. Timing was the issue.”

It was thanks to our producer’s quick action that it went up so fast.

They say strike while the iron’s hot.

Originally it was planned for later, but the company heard the live in real time and held a quick meeting.

Of course, it’s not an official release.

The official version will be refined with the A&R team and released in three weeks.

As the “Original Ver.” implies, this is just the demo version Ri-hyuk and I recorded yesterday.

Hence its roughness.

Several spots need fixing at once.

I felt like a high school student whose painting was submitted to an international art contest without their knowledge.

Embarrassing and awkward.

At least the reviews praised “Night Sea.”

It was encouraging.

To think a melody I created could receive such generous love.

“Haha, hyungs, look at these comments. Ahaha...!”

Of course, I was also energized in another way.

11 a.m.

Unlike other networks, “Global K-Pop” pre-records two to three weeks of broadcasts.

Thus the recording is split into Parts 1–5, and as rookies we naturally appear in Part 1 in the morning.

All the participants were also rookie or low-tenure singers: our rivals Street Boys, Soul6 from Oullim who debuted right after us, girl group BLINK who debuted earlier this year, and more.

“Oh, you saw our gif! That military bit! Right?”

“Yes, that was us...”

Backstage, BLINK members returning for their turn greeted us.

They laughed together when they saw my resigned smile.

I think Soul6 was right behind us.

I had a hunch they’d also recognize me and play along.

“See, hyung? Thanks to me, our connections are growing.”

“I don’t need connections like that...”

“Wow, you’re so negative today.”

I almost narrowed my eyes at him, but seeing the camera I offered a benevolent smile. Ri-hyuk stifled a laugh.

A writer approached with a VJ holding an ENG camera.

“We’re shooting behind-the-scenes video for MyTube. How do you all feel about today’s recording?”

“I’m excited!”

“Super thrilled to meet our fans.”

As we chatted, company staff checked the mic pack at our waists and costume pins.

Phew.

I took a deep breath and waited for the go-signal.

I hoped for a good atmosphere today.

I was happy at the thought of meeting fans, but a little worried.

Last recording the mood had been tense.

Because “Global K-Pop” is a joint recording, each group’s fandom sends members to fill the audience seats.

So today’s audience included fans of other groups.

And since Street Boys fans were among them, last recording felt awkward. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

Not open hostility or insults, but a subtle tension.

The issue was that the audience was as close as in a Hongdae indie café.

With spectators right in front, it was hard not to notice.

“We’ll begin recording now.”

At the staff’s call, we stepped onto the stage.

A roar of cheers.

Our fans occupied the side seats.

I smiled at the sight, feeling proud—then the juniors giggled, having noticed something.

“Hyung, look.”

Where Jung-hyun pointed, a fan waved a slogan reading [Woo-ju, I’ll go to the army for you].

In that moment, the entire audience burst out laughing.

Fans of other groups laughed too.

Even Street Boys fans awkwardly laughed, but the atmosphere was different from usual.

What’s this?

There was no hostility this time.

No subtle tension.

Something had changed.

That moment I realized: instead of whispering “Who’s Woo-ju?” everyone here seemed to know who I was and smiled.

To be known by people... maybe.

As the youngest said, it could be a good thing.

“Let’s begin!”

Naturally, tonight’s fireworks were simply splendid.

After finishing the music show recording, we did a brief interview with the Young Daily reporter and returned to the company.

The conference room on the third floor.

It was our second visit after introducing “Fireworks” to the staff.

Bi-ju asked curiously, “They said the team leads from each department are coming today. What’s that about?”

“They must have something to say.”

“Don’t you have an inkling, hyung?”

I had no clue either.

We were only told to attend a meeting about New Black.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s about Seok-hwan hyung going to TBC.”

“Oh, could be. Will we be on broadcast?”

“No, there’s no need to announce it like this if so. It’s not a survival show or anything.”

Just when the matter seemed murkiest, Ji-ho suddenly spoke.

“I think I heard something. A few days ago I was chatting with a promotions team nunna, and she said they’ll hold something around the fan signing event—like deciding a fandom name.”

That reminded me: our first fan signing is this Sunday.

But more than that, I was interested in Ji-ho’s news.

“A fandom name?”

“Yep. I heard this time they’ll solicit submissions directly from fans...”

“Fans decide it?”

At TJ Ent., the planning team had always coined fandom names.

It was an interesting method.

Ri-hyuk glanced around and whispered,

“True, when they named Scarlet’s fandom last time, it was a disaster. That must be why they changed the process.”

“What happened?”

“At that time the CEO insisted on a name he liked—’Curtain.’”

“Curtain?”

“Yes, Curtain.”

It reminded me of proposed group names before we became New Black:

Lemon Boys, Flying Angels, Black Hole, Hot Voice.

A chill ran down my spine.

“Must’ve been chaos.”

“Yeah. If you search the Scarlet fan café for the CEO’s name, there are some violent posts.”

“Well, the meaning is good.”

Ri-hyuk said, “It symbolizes a curtain shielding and embracing my artist from outside views. Internally people liked it.”

Still, naming a fandom “Curtain” was odd.

I felt sorry for Scarlet’s members imagining “We love you, Curtain!”

I hoped our fandom would get a prettier name.

Clack.

The door opened and staff entered.