Free Web NovelWhen we returned to our seats in elated spirits,
the moment we sat down, the younger members looked at me and simultaneously held out their hands.
“The trophy.”
“I’m going to touch it first.”
“Let me hold it a bit.”
I was about to hand it to Biju beside me, but he insisted he would take it last and let the others have it first.
Jung-hyun took the trophy in his hands and gazed at it silently.
It wasn’t his usual calm expression; he seemed deep in thought.
After about ten seconds,
he leaned toward me and whispered quietly,
“Thank you, hyung.”
“Thank you too, Jung-hyun. You worked so hard.”
I smiled and patted his shoulder.
Seeing Biju beam between us made me laugh.
Then I pointed to the maknae duo.
“Look at them.”
Biju and Jung-hyun turned their heads and smiled in surprise.
The two youngest were sharing the trophy and admiring it.
This was a first.
Those two, who usually bicker like cats and dogs, were enraptured by the “Rookie Award – New Black” trophy.
For me as well as for them, it seemed this trophy cast some sort of sentimental spell.
Once everyone finished their little moment and it was time for Biju to hold it,
“I’ll take care of this trophy.”
A staff member stepped in to collect it for safekeeping.
“Ah!”
Biju froze, then grew sad, and we patted him to comfort him.
Our conversation time ended almost immediately.
The VCR had finished, lights brightened, and other artists’ stages began.
Nowadays, even idols’ reactions are posted in fancams, so we had to be mindful of our behavior.
But there was no need to force any reaction—we were genuinely blown away.
“Ooh,” we murmured, “Wow,” praising how cool it was.
Our first post-award performance was Scarlet’s.
We admired Lemon Entertainment’s girl group, who debuted two years before us, with genuine awe.
We’d heard they were skilled and watched videos, but seeing them live was different.
Just moments ago they’d looked like excited minions;
now they performed flawless group choreography, long strands of black fabric flowing from their fingertips.
Wow—every one of them could be a main dancer.
Despite being only four, they filled the stage completely.
With each delicate hand gesture, an energy seemed to emanate from their fingertips and fill the empty space.
I studied the stagecraft intently—
the hand motions, the footwork, the staging we could one day adapt.
The other stages that followed were similarly meticulous.
Perhaps because it was an end-of-year awards show, every act looked like they’d prepared down to the last detail.
We picked up practical tips on eye lines in a wide venue from senior artists,
and observed how a ballad singer handled high notes to make them more pleasing.
We copied any useful moves we saw.
It was a chance to watch the nation’s top artists live.
When feels of restlessness struck, I’d lean up and watch other acts from the side.
Like in a game where powerful skills rain from every direction, we had to collect them quickly.
As my younger members giggled at me,
“New Black, please get ready.”
A staff member with an intercom called, and we stood up.
The awards show was divided into three parts;
our main stage performance closed out Part One.
At the same time,
while New Black changed costumes and waited backstage, the idol communities buzzed with live commentary:
–Scarlet’s makeup is flawless today
–Their skills are top-notch... honestly, if they weren’t a small-to-mid-size girl group, they’d have gotten a later slot and more time
–Daisy’s rapping voice is my favorite
–Oh, Cha Woo-hyun is up next
–His voice is so good...
–I’m not usually into that song style, but he sings it well
When comments on each performance poured in, talk turned to New Black, the finale of Part One:
–Are these guys really good enough to close Part One???
–They’re overhyping them;; they don’t know moderation
–I think it’s because they had Lemon actors as presenters, so they saved them for last lol
–Wow comments... stop pulling rookie hair so hard
Because Teen Spirit’s fans were the largest, some said New Black neither deserved nor had the skill to close Part One.
During the nearly six-minute finale—ten minutes counting “Something”—there was snide talk like “What is this, a gymnastics show?”
Then:
–Oh, it’s started
–Fireworks, my favorite among recent songs...
–It’s live, and they sing ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ so well lol
As the livestream showed our performance of “Fireworks,” praise erupted.
We kept choreography minimal to focus on vocals.
Immediately, more comments appeared:
–They might sing well
–Honestly New Black isn’t a performance-type group, right? If they’re just good vocally, fine, but... frёewebηovel.cѳm
–Yeah main vocal dance is awkward
As such chatter unfolded,
the lights that had dimmed after “Fireworks” brightened once more.
[New Black | Masquerade]
The title card appeared, and the outline of the stage revealed itself.
Blood-red lights enveloped every corner.
Sinister beams darted around before focusing on the stage.
Amid cheers, thirty-five men took their places—dancers.
Before the singers appeared, these professionals would raise the mood with group choreography.
All wore matching tuxedos and full-face masks.
An elegant yet unsettling intro began, punctuated by clock-ticking.
Tick-tick-tick.
The dancers shuffled forward in sequence like wind-up toy soldiers.
When they broke into five groups,
against a backdrop of ominously flickering red VCR,
the drums kicked in with a heartbeat-thumping rhythm, and the dancers launched into precise choreography that drew gasps:
–Wow... dancers are next-level
–They’re insanely good lol
–Forget New Black, give these guys the stage instead
After the dancers’ set ended,
the audience and TV viewers expected the singers, but New Black still hadn’t appeared.
Usually this was the moment for the singer to rise on a lift.
“...?”
As the live audience and at-home viewers tilted their heads in confusion,
those beside the stage, already in on the plan, grinned in anticipation.
Each of the five groups of seven began undoing one mask at a time, revealing New Black’s members.
With neutral expressions, they removed their masks; during each close-up, their outfits changed instantly:
jackets flipped to deep reds,
bow ties untied into long scarves.
They executed every transformation with grace.
At that very moment, an idol community post appeared:
–People saying they’re not a performance group, where they at??
As praise for New Black surged, a familiar prelude began to play—
the title track of our second album, “Masquerade.”
From the moment the striking intro rang through the arena,
from the instant we emerged among the dazzling dancers,
New Black’s performance etched itself into the audience’s memory.
“They’re good. Really good.”
Most were fans who’d come for their favorite acts.
They knew of New Black but thought of us as “pretty funny guys” from memes.
Seeing the performance live made them rethink.
The song itself is great, but I understood why we’d won Rookie Award.
We nailed it.
For first-year rookies, our stability was unbelievable.
“They really can dance.”
Every move was flawless, no gaps in the formation.
It was like watching choreography bought at top dollar—the sleek quality was one thing, but the precision of spacing left them awestruck.
Shapes shifting in real time like origami, each form so deliberate it felt symbolic.
Two moments stood out most to the live audience:
First, the main dancer’s mid-verse solo.
The blonde member, crouched among the dancers, glided back to center stage almost as if floating.
With a smooth falsetto, he slid into the spotlight, then executed a powerful leg kick that traced a perfect arc in midair.
It looked weightless.
All the while, he’d serenely sung the song without a hint of struggle.
The other unforgettable moment came in the third verse.
While four members stayed in place performing delicate moves, the red-haired member on screen—
In the stillness of the music,
removing the mask,
show me your smile for me
he sang with a mellow expression, strolling from stage right as if in slow motion.
Each time he brushed his shoulder against another member, his expression subtly shifted.
With an elegant hand motion, he adjusted his mask mid-verse, and the atmosphere flipped in an instant.
Up close, the audience couldn’t look away.
Even as this unfolded, his soaring falsetto filled the arena.
Of course, the audience didn’t know this brilliance was no solo effort:
there was the coach who’d patiently taught him expression and called him out when needed,
the one who rehearsed dance moves past bedtime with a gentle smile,
the one who grumbled that falsetto could be improved before finally giving advice,
and the one sneaking snacks to boost morale.
To the crowd, it was pure magic—striking and unforgettable.
Finally, the highlight of verse three arrived.
The climactic release of everything built so far.
As pyrotechnics exploded on stage, filling the air with the scent of gunpowder, the song reached its peak.
Surrounded by dancers at center stage, New Black’s leader stood at the core of the choreography.
He was the perfect balance of vocals, dance, and physique, anchoring the powerful routine.
Woo-joo held the audience’s gaze as he sang and danced at center.
Flames shot upward, and sweat glistened on the members’ faces from the intense moves, but it was a spectacular sight.
When the first huge roar of approval rose from the crowd,
“That reaction’s good, right?”
Manager Seo Min-gi whispered backstage, and Director Yoon Seok-hwan smiled.
“There’s nothing more to ask for.”
New Black’s team watched the audience’s fervent response with satisfaction.
Soon the dance break ended, and the members—breathless—struck their final pose.
Unlike the obligatory cheers earlier, this time genuine applause and cheers filled the arena.
It was a triumphant end to our first year-end stage.
Despite our success, we were exhausted beneath the stage.
Ri-hyuk, feeling dizzy, pretended to vomit into a plastic bag, and Biju leaned against the wall with his eyes closed, taking deep breaths.
Even the fittest among us downed two or three bottles of water each.
We panted until Part Two began.
As we touched up our makeup and returned to our seats, I asked,
“Ri-hyuk, do I smell?”
“Not really, but wipe your face.”
...
Though I fretted about smelling sweaty, the other artists’ stages had been similar, so it was fine.
We watched Parts Two and Three of the awards with relaxed minds.
Having survived the Rookie Award and our biggest stage, we felt relieved.
It was like lifting a heavy stone off our shoulders.
That stage had been the heaviest stone.
Because unlike the brief two-minute performances on the three major networks’ year-end stages, only here did we get over six minutes.
The pressure to deliver was immense, but we’d pulled it off.
So we smiled widely and enjoyed the rest of the ceremony.
“Now, the Song of the Year award goes to Jang So-won for ‘Something’ and New Black!”
“Thank you. Truly this year has been...”
I stood behind Senior Jang So-won as he teared up during his speech,
watched TNT and Teen Spirit perform and picked up staging ideas,
and when the finale saw everyone wave to the crowd, we joined in.
We congratulated TNT, who won Artist of the Year and Album of the Year.
Leader Goo Sun-woong held a bouquet, tears streaming as he greeted me with puffy eyes.
“Thanks, Woo-joo. We’re so happy you’ve done well.”
Overcome with emotion, he tried to hug me through tears and sniffles; I gently dodged and said,
“Same here, hyung. Congratulations to all of you. You deserved it.”
“And congratulations to New Black too.”
Last year, TNT had gone home empty at both major ceremonies; this time they were a sea of tears.
Thinking they got the award a year late for what they deserved, I’d be in tears too.
I patted Tae-hyun on the back as he waved to fans through his tears.
Meanwhile, our New Black team was in high spirits.
“Hahaha, great job everyone!”
“Thank you all!”
“Everyone worked so hard today!”
We took selfies with the dancers who’d lit up our stage and thanked the choreography director and team.
They’d accommodated every difficult request without complaint, so we were grateful.
When we heard the company had arranged a separate dinner, the dancers chanted “New Black! Meat! New Black! Meat!” as they left, drawing laughs.
Stylists, managers, various staff—
after thanking everyone, we moved to the car driven by Won-seok.
“Biju, are you really going to hold that thing all night?”
“I couldn’t touch it before. I’m definitely holding it until bedtime later.”
Seeing Biju clutch the trophy, we all smiled warmly, slinging our arms around each other.
“You guys really did well. Honestly... I never thought we’d win Rookie Award when we met a year ago.”
“I know, right? This time last year we were in the practice room scrambling for year-end evaluations.”
“Whoa, chills. That was over a year ago.”
“Feels like it.”
Time flew by.
It’d been over a year since we met these guys.
“Time really flies. Too fast.” freёwebnoѵel.com
“It does.”
Biju smiled.
“So I wish today would go by more slowly.”
“Me too.”
“Same.”
Gazing at the moon in the night sky, we fell into thought. Then Jung-hyun said,
“Oh—we didn’t take a selfie.”
“Oh, right. Let’s do it.”
We gathered around Biju with the trophy and took about a hundred rapid-fire selfies.
Later, when we uploaded them to SNS, we’d argue over which shot was best, so we fairly decided by rock-paper-scissors.
Ji-ho puckered his lips.
“Whoa, Woo-joo hyung won again.”
“Hey, isn’t it weird? I’ve never beaten that guy at rock-paper-scissors.”
“What’s weird about that?”
“It’s fine to win, but there’s never a tie. If he didn’t know what I’d throw, this makes no sense...”
Ouch.
“Maybe hyung’s just terrible at it?”
Thanks to our grinning maknae, I escaped suspicion.
As we walked on, we saw the choreography team and other staff heading off together in the distance.
Watching their raucous party, Ji-ho swallowed hard.
“Lucky them. They get meat.”
“Just a bit longer. After we finish music shows on Sunday, let’s grill pork belly at the dorm.”
“Yay! Jung-hyun hyung and Woo-joo hyung are buying us meat! Meat! A she say go, you say gi!”
“Gi.”
“Meat!”
Watching the maknae bounce ahead arm-in-arm with Jung-hyun, we laughed together.
Maybe it was because he’d secretly brought them snacks during practice—
Ji-ho’s eyes sparkled every time he looked at Jung-hyun.
Ri-hyuk clicked his tongue.
“You think he has any idea we bought those snacks ourselves?”
“He has no clue.”
“It’s better that way.”
We laughed as we walked.
The wind was biting, but the night was magnificent.
At that moment,
three men in the office eating jokbal (pig’s trotters) were feeling even more of the day’s highs and lows.
“Gyu-hwan.”
“Yes, CEO.”
“Just to confirm... how much did those stages by Scarlet and New Black cost in total?”
“Around four hundred million won.”
“...for fifteen minutes?”
“Yes. There were fireworks and pyrotechnics, and labor costs are high. They used a hundred dancers across two teams. Add VCR production and set costs, and...”
“Wow.”
The division chief innocently exclaimed.
“So every time those fireworks went off, a hundred million was burning up.”
“Precisely, more like 440,000 won per second...”
Park Gyu-ho’s hand trembled, and a piece of jokbal slipped from his chopsticks.
A brief silence.
......
Then the three men devoured the jokbal in silence. Today, the flavor somehow felt empty.
