Free Web NovelI set the phone down on the studio table and asked my brothers,
“Calling right away feels awkward. Shall we send a text first?”
“Yeah, hyung. That’s better,” they agreed.
It wasn’t that we feared looking boring—it was about courtesy.
As we nodded, Ri-hyeok put down his textbook and clicked his tongue.
“Ugh, you timid humans.”
“If we call, I’ll have you take the call first,” I teased.
“...People can be timid. Humans are timid by nature,” he mumbled.
I picked up the phone and drafted a message: “Hello, this is NewBlack. Are you available to chat now?”
I showed it to them. “How is it?”
“The content’s fine, but how about adding an emoji?” Bi-ju suggested. So I added “^^” at the end, but Ri-hyeok shook his head.
“That looks fake. Add something to make it feel sincere.”
“Like this?”
“Add one more on the left cheek, too, hyung.”
Following their wishes, I changed it to “^^” and sent.
Three minutes later, the phone buzzed.
“Hello. This is Street Boys. ٩(•◡•)۶”
They said nice to meet us and that they were free to talk. We couldn’t help but notice the cute emoji. We’d taken three minutes because of it.
“We lost,” I sighed.
“To people using an old phone,” Bi-ju said. “We need to reflect on that.”
“Let’s send them something cute, too,” I said, opening my saved emoji library.
“Ah, I saved these just for Grandma Kim Deok-soon...”
But for NewBlack’s reputation, I used them generously. Copy + paste:
“Can we video call now? ٩(๑•̀o•́๑)و Please accept my heart, Kim Deok-soon.”
I accidentally copied an extra, inappropriate emoji, and my brothers burst out laughing.
Soon they replied:
“Yes! We’re ready too! ٩(•◡•)۶”
I turned to my brothers and asked, “...Shall we call now?”
They stretched and warmed up. “Phew. We can’t delay any longer. Let’s call, hyung.”
“Wait. Let me check the mirror.”
“Please... don’t make a fuss over this video call. People at the agency will laugh at us if they see this... hic! Don’t point the video screen at me!”
I set the phone on the table and dialed. Click. The screen lit up. Though the image was grainy, nine of them huddled in a cramped living room came into view, all makeup-free. Without their usual smoky eyeliner, skull rings, and gold chains, they looked softer.
“.......”
-......
We glanced at each other awkwardly, then greeted one another. The Street Boys stood up and waved.
“Hello. We’re Street Boys!” their leader Han-jo bowed—though only his upper body appeared.
We bowed in return, probably looking just as disembodied on their screens. With our lower halves done, we then faced each other.
“You’re in your dorm living room?”
-Yes.
Han-jo smiled. “This is our dorm. So NewBlack is...?”
“Oh, we’re in our studio.”
-Ah.
“.......”
-......
Sometimes you meet people you greet casually but know nothing about. That was us and Street Boys. Debuting the same time, we’d bumped into each other at music shows and events, exchanged hellos, even built some rapport by July on radio and joint concerts. But our second-album era schedules diverged, resetting us.
I suggested, “To break the awkwardness, shall we introduce ourselves? Name, age, position...”
Before I finished, the hyenas pounced.
“No. Are we having a campfire?”
“Don’t make it more awkward, Woo-joo hyung.”
“Hmmm, so old-fashioned.”
Our stunned faces made them laugh. Han-jo spoke gently:
-I think Woo-joo’s idea is good. Let’s introduce our names, ages, and roles.
Then their hyenas attacked.
“Wow. The leaders work well together.”
“Our leader is so old-fashioned! We call him Hal-jo.”
“...Hey, not here.”
Hal-jo? We exchanged sympathetic smiles with Han-jo.
“You’ve been through a lot.”
He replied, “Thank you. Similar boat.”
Those teasing us began personal introductions. The setups were similar: leader Woo-joo and Han-jo, both born in ’93; maknae Ji-ho and Ki-won, both ’98. Between them, three plus seven members. Their living-room side was overwhelmingly louder, though.
A mischievous member with blue-dyed hair stepped forward:
-Hello. I’m LB.
Then someone shouted:
-Your real name is Gamnamu!
-Who the hell said that?
LB turned angrily, but the culprit remained hidden. Clearing his throat, he said:
-...Ahem. I’m LB, the rapper. Yes, watching NewBlack’s videos and performances from afar...
-Arrrgh!
“Argh!” Both sides screamed at the cheesy line.
-Tree-guy, why? You just set the mood.
-You killed the mood? Killed it?
-No, from the moment he opened his mouth it was doomed.
-Sorry. Gamnamu’s great with cringey lines.
“It’s okay. We relate.”
“One of our members does that, too. At big venues he says, ‘One day this stage will be our dream stage~!’”
“Pwahaha!” We laughed at the maknae’s remark.
I cleared my throat, looking away; Han-jo shot a sympathetic glance through the screen.
Then LB, hounded by his members, shouted:
-Hey! It’s true. Honestly, when we watch NewBlack’s MV or performances, we’re in awe. You sing so well that...
“Ugh! Stop it.”
-He’s killing the vibe again.
-Always ruins things. Every time he cools it.
-Tree-guy, go inside if you don’t want to burn.
We applauded as Gamnamu trudged off. Thanks to LB, the mood had warmed. I’d worried about awkwardness, but both sides kicked off and the chat turned lively. Their internal use of informal vs. honorific speech differed, but our humor aligned. Already they were chatting like old friends.
When things lulled, a quieter Street Boys member spoke:
-Actually, before this call we were so worried.
“Really? Why?”
-We thought we were boring... figured NewBlack would be extroverted and fun. So we worried a lot, but I’m so glad we clicked.
“You thought we were boring?”
-Yes.
“We thought that, too.”
-Really?
“Yes.”
-Huh... wow.
“Wow... this is something.”
Our younger members looked at each other silently, then shouted “Woooaaah!” as if reunited twin brothers, Ji-ho waving.
“Nice to meet you! We’re total snoozefests, too!”
-Us too! We are so boring! It’s great boring meets boring!
-Wooaaah! That’s awesome! freewebnovel.cσ๓
“Shall we call ourselves the ‘No-Fun Family’? No-Fun-Fam?”
-Wooaaah! So exciting!
As they giggled, Ri-hyeok looked dizzy. Han-jo and I sat stunned. I held up my fork-pierced apple; Han-jo raised his 1.5L barley-water bottle in a toast.
“Um....”
My voice wavered. After sipping water, I said,
“...Let’s wrap the socializing here and get down to business?”
-Yes. It’s been thirty minutes. Let’s talk business now.
My brothers shouted “Woo!” and “Five more minutes, hyung, huh?” but I cut them off coldly.
Jung-hyeon said,
“But for the joint stage we need a team name, right? Shouldn’t we pick that first?”
-Right! Let’s decide the team name! We!
Watching them bounce, Han-jo and I exchanged glances.
“Maybe just us...?”
“Let’s scrap it and do solo joint stages.”
But we agreed to pick a name first. The work begins once the team forms. Suggestions flew.
LB raised his hand:
-With NewBlack and Street Boys, how about Black Boys?
-...?
“....”
-Not great?
-Tree-guy, go inside.
LB lowered his hand, eyes watering. Next, Ri-hyeok offered,
“NewBlack, Street... News? Or call it Neutron, like neutral...?”
“Ri-hyeok.”
I said, “You join in, too.”
“....”
They all laughed as Jung-hyeon stroked his chin and muttered,
“Newstreet... Newt... Nutria?”
“Jung-hyeon, join in and hold hands with Ri-hyeok.”
“Hmmm, not bad...”
At that moment, someone from Street Boys said,
-What about using our fandom names? Like Yogurt and Concrete...
-No-Fun-Fam, dummy.
-What good is a brain if you don’t use it?
-Oh, sorry...
They fiercely dissed him, and we all laughed as he apologized in confusion. Thankfully, LB’s earlier suggestion had eased things. Just when we hovered in near-chaos, someone offered a brilliant idea:
-We use our official colors—the toothpaste mix—and blend them into a gradient.
“Oh, yes.”
-NewBlack is black. Mix and call it Mint Chocolate?
“How about adding -dan at the end? MintChoco-dan?”
As Bi-ju finished, we paused, then erupted in applause.
-Huh... this.
“Huh... perfect.”
Thus the 14-member joint group “MintChoco-dan” was born. Only Han-jo and I gazed at each other in stunned silence.
“Shall we just give up?”
“I guess...”
Amid our silly brothers, we exchanged warm smiles.
After MintChoco-dan’s formation, we dove into the joint-stage discussion, both groups now earnest.
Street Boys stared at the handsome faces on-screen.
“Wow, they’re so handsome.”
Perhaps due to our makeup-free look the day before, but their features were crisp enough to break through the video call. I’d always thought them good-looking, but camera work and styling had elevated their aura.
As Street Boys admired us, feeling a strong camaraderie, a clamor rose from our side. NewBlack flipped the phone’s view: I sat at the synthesizer linked to my laptop, members standing behind me.
-First we need to pick a song. Do you have any in mind?
“Oh, one moment.”
...Nothing came to mind. We’d been used to never voicing opinions—“Just do as you’re told” was the company’s stance. So we never formed preferences. Why bother, since they wouldn’t listen? That only unsettled me.
We looked at each other, bewildered. Then a gentle voice spoke:
-Um... since we haven’t known each other long, it’s awkward, right? So when sharing ideas you might think, “If it’s not brilliant, it’ll be embarrassing.” But please feel free to say anything. For example, Jung-hyeon.
-From the ’90s, I’d like to do “Bus Stop” by that hip-hop trio.
-...Does that song exist?
-No. I just made it up.
Everyone, both NewBlack and Street Boys, laughed. I continued:
-See? You can say anything. Let’s all chat freely.
-Your expression is like a kindergarten teacher.
-Jung-hyeon.
-Yes?
-Run with it.
As our main vocalist vanished from view, Street Boys hesitated, then began:
“Well, since we’re a hip-hop group, I’d like a song emphasizing our hip-hop side.”
“Right. In the ’90s there was dance hip-hop, you know?”
And so their suggestions poured out like a dam breaking. At first, NewBlack members tried to add ideas, then, overwhelmed, nodded along. After a long spree of proposals, I tapped the piano keys like a school bell to draw attention:
-To summarize: you want a song combining Street Boys’ hip-hop color with NewBlack’s vocals, right?
“Yes, exactly.”
They chorused. I smiled and said,
-Hmm... as I listened, I thought: how about covering a song by Trend, our seniors?
“Trend?”
They were a group whose blend of hip-hop and vocals had mass appeal across generations. I asked gently,
-How about it? Okay?
“Yes. Honestly, if we can do it justice, we’d be thrilled. They’re legendary for so many classics...”
I smiled:
-Shall we start by «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» selecting a song?
After our passionate discussion, two candidates emerged: the hip-hop–heavy “Pae” and the vocal-driven “Haetsal.” Both iconic hits. The problem was...
“There’s no middle ground,” Han-jo said, frowning. “’Pae’ is too hip-hop, ‘Haetsal’ too vocal. Both are great, but...”
We were torn. We needed a happy compromise. I’d prefer “Pae,” but couldn’t tell NewBlack, “Hey, let’s do hip-hop.” And choosing the vocal track would bury our rapper strengths.
I was stumped when I heard someone speak with an air of inevitability:
-Then let’s do both.
“What?”
They glanced at each other, stunned, until a gentle voice confirmed:
-We can mix them. Of course, for arrangement we’ll need to ask the company later...
I turned to my brothers; they nodded enthusiastically. The Street Boys looked dumbfounded.
“What on earth are they saying?” their eyes asked silently.
Mix two totally different songs? Arrangement alone is tricky, but mixing songs? They posed it matter-of-factly.
Then I called our main vocalist.
-Ki-won, can you test your range?
“Yes.”
Ki-won sang lightly from low to high. I closed my eyes, then began to play. I started with the “Pae” chorus melody, repeating it a few times while adding and subtracting notes. Gradually, almost without noticing, the keyboard lines morphed seamlessly into “Haetsal.”
“....”
As everyone on both sides sat in stunned silence, someone finally asked,
“...What just happened?”
But no one could answer. On their screens, they saw my calm smile and the rest of NewBlack grinning like the Four Heavenly Kings under the Great Demon Lord.
