In This Life, The Greatest Star In The Universe

Departure day.

The photos of NewBlack renewing their legendary visuals at Incheon Airport set social media ablaze in seconds.

White T-shirts, jeans, and blinged-out accessories.

Souffle let out a breathy gasp at the pure, summery visual—beautiful boys who looked ready for a beach pictorial—but only for a moment.

Soon, fans fixed their eyes on something else.

“Huh? Gyuho’s there too?”

Maybe he had business in the States?

With that thought, they smiled at the sparkling Gyuho in the photos.

Maybe because other agencies had blundered so hard—once upon a time they disliked him, but these days nothing felt more reassuring.

“Hm?”

Souffle smiling fondly quickly shook their heads.

“No. No way.”

If they let it seep in and start feeling attached, that would be a problem.

A true idol fan must always be ready, the instant a single mistake happens, to go, “Gyuho, you bastard,” and curse him out.

“Don’t get attached.”

They were all shaking their heads in unison when a civilian’s post went up on an idol community, making everyone burst out laughing.

[Fan account: Saw Gyuho at the airport]

(Facebook capture.jpg)

Why NewBlack’s photos came out extra well today:

Because there was a walking reflector

Fans of Souffle and other idols cracked up at the sight of a CEO literally sacrificing himself to make his artists shine.

Once infamous, Lemon Entertainment’s CEO.

But lately, even among idol fans, he’d been seeping in positively—the head of a certain agency.

Finally, the United States.

How many times has it been now for LA, where Teen Choice takes place.......

“How many again?”

Junhyun raised a hand.

“Junhyun. You don’t know anyway.”

“Isn’t it too early to assume that?”

“Okay, then tell us.”

“To be honest, I’m not sure either.”

I waved him off and asked the others, but everyone went hmm.

Even Ri Hyuk, our numbers guy, started counting on his fingers and tilted his head.

“No idea. We’ve been so many times now.”

We flew in and out on schedules so often we’d lost track of how many LA trips this was.

At this point, landing at LAX, heading to the hotel, and prepping for the schedule was routine.

Jet lag was an issue, but this was a quick overnight, so it was fine. We’d slept well on the plane.

“Fwaaah.”

Cooled by the AC, I looked out over LA’s cityscape.

Late afternoon with some time left before sunset.

Under that clear sky, our car was headed for Teen Choice’s red carpet.

“Mhm-hm-hm.”

Humming, I checked the limo mirror.

My beautiful suit over a black shirt.

Top to bottom, my suit was embroidered with vibrant red and purple flowers, and it all came together like a painting.

The world’s greatest suit, sent by the world’s greatest talent—LeBlanc’s head designer, Jimmy Robbins!

“Kyareureuk.”

“Ugh. Hard to look at.”

“Behold, minions. My flora suit!”

“Don’t pretty it up as ‘flora suit.’ It’s just a floral suit.”

Even with Ri Hyuk’s jab, I felt too good to care.

Even among my minions dressed up in their own flashy looks, my fashion shone like a single blossom.

Normally they’d be screaming “absolutely vile” by now.

“How is it? Doesn’t it suit me?”

“...It suits you.”

Biju sighed sadly and snapped photos of me on his phone.

The maknae and Ri Hyuk went “eh~” and just stared out the window, speechless, and I laughed, delighted.

Jiho shook his head and changed the subject.

“By the way, where did the CEO go?”

“He said he and Seokhwan hyung were going somewhere... probably important for us.”

Since the CEO came all the way here, it was probably a big meeting.

Thinking of the company folks moving for business, I opened my phone’s notes to check a few things.

“Let’s run interview practice one last time.”

“Yes. Yes.”

We drilled the TF team’s list of “words and keywords currently off-limits to mention in the U.S.” and practiced interviews.

Like anywhere, the U.S. is extremely sensitive about social issues; one wrong keyword in English and we could be in serious trouble.

Say there was an incident involving racial discrimination somewhere—we might unintentionally use a related term.

Even now in the U.S., there were plenty of people eager to twist our words and spread them.

“We’re here, guys.”

At Min-gi hyung’s call from the passenger seat, we looked around.

Familiar turf.

The Galen Center—where Kids’ Choice had been held earlier this year and where we’d nearly been slimed—was also the venue for the Teen Choice Awards.

From far off, rows of Souffle greeted us with cheers.

“Wooooo!”

A happy smile slipped out before I knew it.

As we stepped out, the cheers shook the street.

Compared to the limo’s muffled noise, the roar was on another level.

“Krwarararararar—!”

“Grrrrrrrrr!”

“Kyaaaaaaaaa!”

Cu—

“Cute,” almost popped out, then dove back down my throat.

Hearing the fierce... fiercely cute screams of American Souffle, we entered the photo wall area, where the photographers went wild.

“Wooju, over here!”

“Ri Hyuk, right! Right!”

“Junhyun! Junhyun! Jiho!”

“B, please look here! Here! Right here!”

Each called our names, begging us to look their way.

We posed as usual on the photo wall, sweeping from left to right, then moved on.

Past the wall, interviewers swarmed in. Min-gi hyung and Won-seok hyung directed traffic while we took turns with quick hits.

“Wow!”

An interviewer beamed and held a mic out to me.

“Your fashion is very striking today, Sunny.”

“Do you like it?”

“It suits you so well I want to ask where you bought it.”

A cheery interview.

We did a few more short segments with other outlets and capped them with a plug: “Please listen to ‘METRO’!”

On the Teen Choice grounds with a blue carpet, we greeted familiar faces.

“Hey!”

“How have you been?”

We’d only met once at the Billboard Awards, but people welcomed us like family, and we hugged them back.

We snapped selfies.

We traded, “Let’s collab sometime,” as pleasantries.

We shook hands with intros.

At Kids’ Choice and Billboard, we’d been dazed and awkward; doing it once or twice made it easier.

“Wow.”

Our maknae, a lover of U.S. dramas and films, looked around and squealed with joy.

“Heeey, the cast from the show I watched is over there. I have to go take a picture.”

“Go, Jihomon.”

“O-okay, I’ll be back!”

Watching him go show off his people skills to strangers, I smiled warmly.

“Wasn’t this supposed to be an award show for teens?”

“Yeah.”

“...Are these all teens, seriously?”

“Seems like it.”

We’d felt it at Kids’ Choice too, but their children and teens develop differently than Koreans.

There were even teens who already looked hollow-eyed, like aging had set in early.

“Still better than Kids’ Choice.”

“Back then we were truly awkward, crushed among actual children.”

“At this level, we can blend in.”

In Korea, this would’ve been an age range we didn’t quite fit with.

Middle and high schoolers—conversations would get awkward, like “Do you still do night study?” “Can you use the central stairs now?”

But American teens were different. Smiling at these worldly kids who looked like puberty had slammed into them, we moved on.

“Hehehehehe.”

“At least here, we can mix, hyung.”

We decided to socialize, chatting amiably with people who approached.

Sure enough—

These teen boys and girls thought we were their peers.

“Whoa! NewBlack! I’ve been dying to get close!”

“Yeah, yeah. Nice to meet you. Let’s be friends~!”

“Friends?”

“Yup, friends!”

“Kyareureureureu!”

“Kyaruk!”

Mission infiltrate-the-teens: success.

That’s right!

Bodies in our twenties, hearts in our teens.

That was us.

“......”

Dodging the maknae’s faraway, exasperated stare, I kept up the friend-friend patter with the teens.

A major American network’s conference room.

On the TV running in the room, the “2017 Teen Choice Awards” had just begun.

Cameras panning across teen audiences and stars.

[Waaaaaaaaaaaaa!]

When NewBlack hit the screen, the roar shook the venue.

An executive stepping into the conference room swallowed.

“Not bad at all.”

The sheer noise carried the venue’s heat into the room—it was nerve-tingling.

Normally he’d think, impressive, and leave it at that, but right now that raw power felt relevant.

No surprise: the two men seated in the room were connected to that boy band.

A middle-aged man with a kindly look, and a meticulous-looking guy in glasses in his thirties.

“...Hello.”

They stood, greeted him warmly, and turned off the TV.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were here. Pardon me.”

“Not at all. Ha ha.”

“We really wanted to see our kids on the show.”

The man in glasses turned off the TV and offered his hand.

But of course they knew he was coming.

“They wanted to show me.”

How big a storm the artists they managed were kicking up.

It felt like part of a negotiation strategy.

A “You see how popular our kids are, right?” situation. He felt a twinge of caution toward the guy in glasses.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Yoon Seokhwan, TF team lead at Lemon Entertainment.”

“Mr. Yoon.”

“And this is our CEO, Mr. Park Gyuho.”

“Mr. Park.”

Whether the middle-aged man’s English was rusty or not, the team lead did the intro.

The network exec shook hands and sat.

The meeting began.

As talks about NewBlack’s talk-show appearances and various programs got underway, the exec revised his assessment.

“...They’re no pushovers.”

At first he’d been wary of the bespectacled Yoon; as the meeting went on, he started to be wary of the genial middle-aged man. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Whenever he thought he’d seized the initiative, that man would whisper something to Team Lead Yoon and the situation flipped again.

“Our CEO is curious about the ad revenue for that segment. And the terms.”

“Ah—slipped my mind.”

“Caught.”

CEO Park flashed a smile that said, these things happen, ha ha—but the exec swallowed.

Warm smiles—then, in between, a sharp jab.

From his looks alone, he seemed like the easiest mark in the world; yet every time he chuckled and said something, parts the exec had tried to hide were revealed, or parts he’d hoped not to discuss got dragged into the open.

In the end, after thirty minutes, the exec had to concede defeat.

He’d planned to take a 30/70 cut in their favor; mid-way it slid to 50/50...

And finally it ended with terms 60/40 in Lemon’s favor.

“Let’s proceed on... those terms.”

“He says that sounds good.”

The exec caught his breath.

“A decent defense.”

At this level he wouldn’t get chewed out by the higher-ups.

Truthfully, if the other side had pushed, they could’ve reached 70/30—but they stopped short.

And Lemon’s two men didn’t hide that they were doing him that courtesy.

“Not bad. I’ll consider these good terms.”

Translation: Tried to pull a fast one and got stripped clean, huh?

“Ha ha. Not easy men, are you.”

Translation: Bandits, the both of you.

It had been a tough fight from the start.

“Keep it up and we’ll go to a different network. Want us to?”—and a dirty little “You saw the TV just now, right? Remember?” as they played.

“If only they’d leave already.”

As he clicked his tongue at how they’d taken all the gains worth taking—

“I have one last request.......”

CEO Park began, halting in English.

“Don’t you think the K-pop genre isn’t exactly ordinary? It’s highly unique, which gives it rarity in the U.S. market.”

“That’s true, but......”

“Personally, I’d like to keep that rarity intact. At least for boy bands.”

He was circling the point, but his gentle eyes seemed to be saying:

“Who do you want to be close with?”

He was likely referring to proposals arriving from a Korean company called ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ TJ Entertainment lately.

He had no idea how they knew the station had been in talks with them, but it was true that a Korean contact, claiming to have the “next NewBlack,” had piqued the station’s interest.

Just as the Allen Dale Show gained big attention by booking NewBlack early, if there was a true “next NewBlack,” it’d be a huge opportunity.

But it wasn’t as crucial as NewBlack, who were rising steeply right now.

“......”

The exec finished the math and smiled, extending a hand.

“Any product needs rarity to sell well.”

“I’m glad you agree.”

They shook, exchanged polite bows, and the two men left.

Out in the hall, Team Lead Yoon blew out a breath.

“Americans are no joke. Trying to slice your nose off in broad daylight......”

“Good work, Team Lead Yoon.”

“You too, CEO. I was honestly in awe.”

“Don’t make it sound so heavy. Heh heh.”

CEO Park waved it off with an easy laugh.

Then, with a brief chill in his eyes, he scanned today’s list of networks and agencies to visit.

“It won’t be easy to steal another man’s rice cake, Chairman.”

Nor would he allow it.

Thinking of TJ Entertainment, eager to pluck the fruits of his artists’ American push, CEO Park’s lips curved.

A moment later, Lemon’s CEO let the chill fade and said warmly:

“Let’s head to the next place.”

“Yes, sir.”

While NewBlack were busy out there—

Lemon Entertainment’s staff were moving just as busily.

Teen Choice, a compact show of about an hour, wrapped safely.

“Woooooooo!”

And we won two awards.

One for Best Music Group, and another for Global Artist.

“Souffle! We won twooooo!”

“We got awards!”

Back at the hotel, we hopped on the Y app to share the joy with Souffle.

Waving the surfboard trophies, we shouted:

“See? It’s taller than Ri Hyuk!”

“Taller than Kim Biju.”

Our relatively pocket-sized teammates objected.

“What are you talking about. I’m taller than that.”

“Yeah, no way.”

Teen Choice trophies are a little unusual.

If Kids’ Choice gives you a weird kaleidoscope, Teen Choice gives you a giant surfboard engraved “2017 Teen Choice.”

If you’re petite, you could literally hide behind it.

“Then prove it, hyungs.”

“Just a sec.”

Biju and Ri Hyuk puffed themselves up like hummingbirds—hooOOOp!—and stood behind the two surfboards.

And—

“Puhahahahahaha!”

“Fwahahaha!”

Souffle and all of us burst out laughing.

They really did tuck right in behind them—our main dancer and main vocal.

We soothed Ri Hyuk, face flushing as he hissed, and Biju, smiling like a cool heroine.

“Mm, we made a lot of teen friends. They felt really our age, so we decided to be friends.”

We were chattering on about the show and spending time with Souffle when—

“Hm?”

Ri Hyuk, scrolling his phone, said, “My little bro sent this. We made Best Dresser.”

“Best Dresser?”

“Yeah, a fashion magazine picked Best Dressers from today’s Teen Choice red carpet. Apparently one of us is on it.”

“Oooo......!”

While Souffle typed trembling comments—

And while the kids were like, “That’s me,” “Pretty sure it’s me,” my chest started to dok-sun dok-sun for some reason.

Sometimes you get a shiver—a good or bad feeling—and this was one of those times.

“I feel like it’s me.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little shameless......”

Ri Hyuk stopped talking.

On the phone screen: me, in the flora suit.

“Is ‘WORST’ spelled ‘BEST’? Is that it? Please tell me that’s it.”

“No way.”

“Wait......”

While my minions trailed off into o-o-ohs, I felt pent-up grief melt away.

My hand lifted to my mouth on its own.

“I’m... Best Dresser......?”

“......”

“Me? I’m Best Dresser...?”

“......”

It felt like tears of joy might spill.

All the harsh mockery and scolding I’d endured for florals flashed through my head and my throat tightened.

“I... I did it......!”

“What did you do, exactly?”

“I did it! I did!”

Kneeling with tears of joy, I turned toward the direction of France.

Jimmy.

Oh, Jimmy.

This world acknowledged that we were right.

“I did it......!”

“No, what did you even do!”