In This Life, The Greatest Star In The Universe

"I honestly can’t understand why they keep calling us idiots. We’re smart...!"

We all nodded at the youngest’s words.

"Yeah, yeah."

"So unfair."

"If you were the ones trapped in there, do you think you could’ve escaped as cleverly as we did?"

Seeing us trembling with indignation, the staff cackled and teased us.

So annoying.

They’re always saying I push people around and exploit them, but do those look like the faces of the exploited? They looked exactly like uncles delighted to have fresh material to tease their nephews with.

Usually in moments like this I’d glance at the CEO, and he’d go, "Now, now," and restore order...

Unfortunately, he wasn’t here today.

"It would’ve been nice if the CEO were here."

I nodded at Junhyun, who was staring up at the sun and muttering that.

Biju smiled.

"On the bright side, it means that many people watched last night. Considering how the Producing Team and A&R folks usually say they’re sick of our faces and won’t touch our variety..."

"That’s true."

A&R and the Producing Team, who claim they’re fed up from seeing us too much, normally don’t even glance at our variety shows.

So the mere fact they were bringing it up this much was rare.

—HBS "Right Now, We" hits its own all-time ratings... PD Yeo Hoseok: "Thank you, Captain Flower"

I smiled at the ratings article sitting on the main entertainment page.

"The whole country watched."

"Just take it easy, hyung."

I could already picture every person we’d meet at restaurants or on the street going, "I saw it yesterday~" and teasing us.

Yeah.

I should just relax. It’s not all bad.

The behind-the-scenes made us look a bit foolish, but... it also seemed to have some positive effect, in its own way.

"Oh."

I clicked a link in the portal search results.

[Everyone who swore NewBlack had a script, come out]

Just reading it was cathartic.

Because there really had been no script, yet plenty of people had suspected "rigging."

—Am I the only one who finds it suspicious how everything clicked so neatly? Am I the only suspicious one?!

—One hundred percent rigged~ If not, whatever.

It looked like a post dunking on that crowd.

[Everyone who swore NewBlack had a script, come out]

See?

If there’d really been a script, would they have self-sabotaged like that

Our boys are idiots ㅠㅠㅠ

It stung a little.

With a trembling hand I scrolled to the comments.

—The "rigging parrots" really need to reflect

—Feels like the production finally drew its sword because people call everything scripted lol

—This is real

—Why rig when the Variety God is handing you bait like carp feed

—Fr, and why are people acting like Daegil was just conveniently cast

—To be fair Daegil might actually have been cast... if it’s Kim Junhyun, it’s possible

—Our boys are idiots

—+1 +1 +1 +1 They don’t think that deeply

Everyone was defending us so hard... yet for some reason it made me feel melancholy.

It felt like seeing my juniors defend me with, "This hyung is old, but his vibes are young!"

Another post caught my eye as I scrolled.

A forum where variety-show diehards gathered.

[If anything, from a variety perspective NewBlack’s edit was better (analysis/long)]

Using a strange genre like romance fantasy and focusing on complex story progression wouldn’t have landed with general viewers

"Male lead, female lead, sub male lead" stuff is unfamiliar to older folks ㅇㅇ

They’d be like "What the heck is this"

Just rolling, crashing, breaking stuff like NewBlack did is funnier to the general public

—Yeah this seems right

—Wasn’t NewBlack TV’s overseas success originally credited to that? The comedy’s easy to get

—Physical gags are king

—Upvoted for analysis. From a variety perspective, NewBlack’s cut felt way better to me too

—The actress getting to clock out in the BTS was so funny lolololol

—Honestly I started wondering if NewBlack was executing a high-level strategy

—But you called it "long" analysis

—[OP] In modern life, anything over three lines is long~~

I showed the post to the kids, and they all nodded.

"Sharp."

"This is exactly why we produced that kind of segment."

"At last, some folks who get it."

As we agreed with the long analysis, the Producing Team’s youngest, Hyungseob, muttered nearby:

"Wow, the shamelessness..."

The moment our eyes met, Hyungseob bolted. I gave Junhyun an order.

"Bring him back."

"Yes, hyung."

Watching our third kick up dust and sprint off, I decided to stop web surfing.

Other composers were starting to arrive.

We folded the collapsible palanquin, stowed it on the bus, and went to greet the newcomers.

"Composer Yoo! How have you been?"

"Long time no see."

"Thank you so much for coming. Did you get the Hanwoo beef set?"

"Yes, my family loved it. Because of that..."

Their eyes were a bit misty, and their faces looked excited—maybe from the career prospects.

As they buzzed and exchanged names:

"Huh? PD Song is here too?"

"Whoa?"

They were marveling at each other—"You’re here too?"—because everyone gathered was top-tier domestically.

If everyone here suddenly vanished, Korea’s pop scene would wobble for a bit.

Checking the list, Ri Hyuk said:

"Ninety percent of those invited showed up. That attendance rate is truly insane."

Except for a few who were too busy with their own schedules, like pianist and Music Café host Ha Seungju or Director Cho Gyuhwan, nine out of ten had come running with an OK.

There was even—

"I cleared my entire schedule. If NewBlack calls, you come. Ha ha!"

One guy who attended simply because he wanted to work together.

Watching these outside composers show such burning eagerness, we glanced at the Producing Team.

"See?"

"Don’t see it."

Our in-house composers, now stuck attending the workshop, pretended not to notice.

While a cameraman and crew moved around filming "Sun Wooju’s Rest Work Diary," a bullhorn was put into my hands.

—Testing, testing. How is everyone?

"Great!"

—Welcome, from the bottom of my heart, to the 1st NewBlack Song Camp of 2017. Now, shall we all make some noise?

"Waaaaaah!"

—Excellent.

I explained the schedule to the cheering composers.

—The Song Camp will run six days and five nights, and we’ve prepared a fantastic itinerary for you.

"Woooooo!"

—All right, then—shall we depart?

A bright morning.

In a happy mood, the composers began boarding the bus.

From "Sun Wooju’s Rest ‘Work’ Diary"

Jiho, mic in hand, sang a lively trot number from his seat, and even the driver bounced along.

Wooju aimed a self-cam at Team Lead Na Sangyun sitting beside him.

Na Sangyun: What’s this?

Wooju: The "Rest Work Diary" self-cam.

Na Sangyun: Ah, the thing we’re filming alongside the song camp?

Wooju: Yep, that.

Na Sangyun: Pleased to meet you, Souffles. Since 2015 I have been suffering under Sun Wooju’s—

[Beep—]

Cut. Next cut: Team Lead Na Sangyun smiling brightly.

Na Sangyun: ...I am truly happy to be with /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ Wooju.

Wooju: He says so. Since we’re at it, could you explain my charms as a composer?

Na Sangyun: Hmm... like a remote wedged between the mattress and the bed frame? Once it slips in, you can’t ever get it back...

Wooju: Ooh.

Wooju tilted his head.

Wooju: But when the remote gets stuck down there, it’s annoying.

Na Sangyun: (grin)

[Beep—]

Black screen, then the next scene.

Arranger Hyungseob from the Producing Team was furtively checking his phone. Wooju asked him a question.

Wooju: Having fun, Hyungseob?

Hyungseob: Of course.

Jiho: Whoa! Hyungseob’s on Job Planet!

Wooju:

Hyungseob: No no no...! N-no I’m not!

Composers burst into loud laughter.

The bus rolled on in high spirits, and when both NewBlack and the composers had finally conked out from all the fun—

The bus slowed, as if arriving at its destination.

Composer 1: Whew, must’ve rained a lot last night. Look at all the leaves on the ground.

Composer 2: They said it poured.

A place that looked like a high-end resort finally came into view.

As the nameplate reading "Jeongseung Resort" approached, the composers blinked.

[What on earth awaits...?]

With that caption, NewBlack rubbed their eyes and sat up, flustered.

Wooju: What is that.

Ri Hyuk: Of all places... even the letter that falls...

Perhaps due to last night’s torrential rain, one of the circles in the "Jeongseung" sign was barely hanging on.

At a glance, it looked like "Otherworld (Afterlife) Resort."

We all burst out laughing, saying the Variety God had descended from the start, and the two buses we’d ridden were shown in a full shot.

Ominous BGM rolled in.

And as if showing the future of the composers who’d been smiling moments ago, eerie shots flashed by.

[Please, let us work!]

[I want to work... let me work!]

[Hee-hee-hee! Absolutely not!]

Caption:

[Sun Wooju’s Rest ‘Work’ Diary... begins now...!]

Jeongseung Resort.

Arriving at a high-end resort in Namhae, Gyeongsangnam-do, the composers’ eyes went round.

"Wooow!"

"This is gorgeous. Totally Santorini vibes."

"Wooooow..."

After check-in, the lodgings were truly stunning.

Beyond the terrace, blue waves rolled; other units with colorful roofs sat like a painting. If not for the distant, distinctly Korean fields, you could mistake it for abroad.

"This is insane. The price must be no joke..."

"Huh? Did you see the price?"

Outside composers who searched the price online recoiled.

"Crazy."

They’d been picturing a simple ski-resort type place, but the sheer scale swelled their chests.

"Honey, did you see this? This place is unreal."

"Baby, I’m at the hotel."

Young composers took photos for SNS; married ones video-called spouses and trotted around the rooms.

A benefits environment that made you blurt, "This is crazy."

Lemon Entertainment’s composers grinned ear to ear.

"It’s great once you’re here."

"If it weren’t Wooju, would we ever do a song camp in a place like this? We’d rent a pension and grill meat."

"Major. Just major..."

As they toured the marble-dressed rooms, the composers’ hearts aligned as one.

"Do your absolute best."

"Give as much as we’ve received."

While they formed that firm resolve,

A group-chat ping came to their phones: "Please gather at the resort auditorium."

"Ooooh..."

Composers arrived at an auditorium big enough to host a wedding and took seats.

"So we work here? With partitions?"

"Looks that way."

Mini-cams had been set up all over, and the composers were busy rigging their gear.

Some stretched or loosened up, eyes full of zeal.

The outside composers glanced at Lemon Entertainment’s composers lounging with ease.

"They look so relaxed. Is Lemon that good a place to work?"

NewBlack’s attitude toward their in-house staff, the benefits for staff... all of it.

A few composers who’d been seeking a stable environment beyond freelancing grew curious.

They looked up Lemon Entertainment on job sites.

"The reviews aren’t bad overall."

Turnover seemed very low.

Even the negative comments—presumably from ex-employees—didn’t seem entirely damning.

—The influence of a particular artist is excessive, to the point of steering the company

They figured that was a jab at Wooju, and of course they accepted it.

"They say Lemon will pass 100 billion won in revenue this year."

If an artist who drives that revenue doesn’t have clout, that’d be stranger.

"I’ll ask about it during smoke break later."

They planned to sidle up during a smoke and ask Lemon’s composers about the work environment.

"But when is NewBlack arriving?"

"Yeah, when?"

It was time to start orientation, but NewBlack still hadn’t appeared.

Just as the composers began glancing around—

Thud!

The auditorium lights went out and a screen descended.

Then a video started playing.

[Hello. I’m Sun Wooju.]

Maybe it had been pre-recorded—Wooju smiled from a seat in Lemon’s studio.

[Welcome, from the bottom of my heart, to NewBlack’s Song Camp. I’ll give you a detailed briefing about this camp.]

Slides popped up like a PPT.

First, a stage cut from the Billboard Music Awards.

With Americans going "Wow!" NewBlack danced happily on stage.

Lemon’s composers smiled as if it felt good even in retrospect.

[As you know, the goal of this project is to create NewBlack’s first English track. But you don’t need to feel excessive pressure. Just approach it with the mindset of making a good song.]

Wooju kept explaining with a smile.

[The song camp will proceed similarly to other labels. We’ll randomize into small groups and try a track, then gather with familiar faces and try another.]

Composers nodded or stroked their chins.

[But we won’t only follow the usual way.]

"Hmm?"

[This time we’ll try a very unique approach.]

Lemon’s composers began to feel a creeping unease.

"Here we go again."

"What bait are you laying this time..."

Wooju explained to them.

[When I was hospitalized in America with gastritis, I realized something. Human creativity awakens when you’re not supposed to be doing it.]

"...?"

[When I was told to take absolute rest for about a week, the members told me not even to think about work. Don’t hum melodies, don’t think up songs in your head.]

"..."

[But... being told that only made the creative urge surge. The more they said not to, the more I wanted to work.]

Most had similar experiences, so they all wore faces of agreement.

[That’s how it is, right? During exams, even wallpaper patterns look fun, and the tiniest chores seem entertaining.]

"Right."

"The novelist I loved back then was a senior in high school. After college-entrance exams, their writing got boring."

"If you rest from work, you want to work."

Wooju clapped his hands.

[With that in mind, for the first three days of this six-day, five-night camp, "composing" is strictly prohibited.]

"Huh?"

"Excuse me?"

[For the first three days, even at meals or in conversation, any talk related to composing will incur penalties. Any and all composing activity will also incur penalties.]

What kind of brilliant nonsense was this.

Come to a song camp and don’t work?

Composers exchanged looks that said, "What did I just hear?"

"We’re not allowed to work for three days?"

"That’s weird."

"So we just... do nothing and rest for three days?"

Questions bubbled up among them.

"Can that even work?" 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

It was a clever idea in its way, but would barring composing for a few days really improve results?

Calling in the best composers and then declaring a vacation?

Not that they minded...

"So that’s why it’s six days and five nights. I thought it seemed long."

Usually, song camps ran two nights and three days, four nights at most. Human concentration had limits.

So the long schedule had been for rest upfront.

The composers smiled.

"He’s telling us to relax."

"They’ll work us after a few days off."

"I needed a break... thanks, really..."

Would a few days off from composing really make you desperate to write?

[Some of you might be skeptical of my idea, so I’d like to propose a small wager. I want you to experience that feeling—wanting to do something more when you’re told not to.]

"...?"

[If you can keep a straight face for the next ten minutes, we’ll give you a small gift set.]

"Oh!"

"Freebie time, nice."

The composers straightened up, faces suddenly solemn.

Through booming amps, music began to play.

Ba-ba-ba-bam

Ba-ba-ba-ba—babam

The majestic BGM from the historical drama "Taejo Wang Geon" rolled, and at the first twitch of cheeks, a shout rang in the composers’ ears.

—His Majesty approaches!

With the grand background music, the doors swung open wide.

White light spilled into the dim room as bodyguards like something out of a sageuk carried a palanquin.

Minions fanned with hand fans.

Wooju, riding the palanquin with a grave expression, entered, and sniffles and coughs sounded all around.

"Ahem!"

"Khk!"

Staring solemnly around, Wooju mimicked someone’s face like a painting.

"...Who goes there? Who just made a coughing sound?"

"Guk!"

"Cough! Cough!"

Result of the try-not-to-laugh game:

Every outside composer failed. Only Lemon Entertainment staff survived.