Free Web NovelLemon Entertainment PR Team.
As Deputy Manager Hong Seo-young was monitoring the internet ahead of PBS’s Master Song Discovery premiere, she frowned.
“What is this?”
It was all the posts flooding the idol communities.
– New Black’s upcoming competition program—recent live.metube
– Talk going around now about New Black’s vocal skills
– Rumors they’ve given up practicing—new rookie idols
Negative-sounding posts were everywhere. She couldn’t believe it.
“They’re questioning our kids’ live skills?”
There was no way anyone could seriously think they couldn’t sing.
But the internet mood was different. free𝑤ebnovel.com
“Wow... didn’t they promote themselves on their singing skills at debut?”
“They coated the tracks with AR so thickly...”
“You can hear their real skill on the live footage.”
“I thought they’d be good if they were competing, but...? If that’s normal, that’s kind of pathetic lol”
It read as if their skills had fallen from neglect. Or “Are they even competition-ready?” The narrative was spreading.
It made no sense.
But because Saturday’s event footage used heavy AR—due to the members’ throat conditions—and Sunday’s fancam exposed them singing live with uneven on-site sound, the posts looked credible.
“What are you looking at?”
Assistant Manager Nam Seok-woo poked his head over the partition.
Hong replied tersely, “Someone’s bashing our kids.”
“Is there anything to bash New Black about? Creative-credit controversy, maybe—but vocals? Ridiculous.”
“Look at this.”
“Oh, it really is a creative-credit controversy.”
Nam chuckled. “Vocal-skill controversy—this is the dumbest and funniest rumor I’ve heard lately.”
Scanning the posts and comments, he marveled, “Soufflés are on fire—look at them fighting back in the comments. But...”
“But the opposing side is too strong.”
Real-time posts showed New Black’s fans unleashing full force.
– They were famous for vocals from the start—what nonsense is this?
– Didn’t you see other idols’ conditions drop after the tour? Stop fabricating.
– ((((New Black))))
– Why am I wasting my precious weekend on this absurd drama... I’m about to flip out
Soufflés outnumbered most 3-year-veteran fandoms by a large margin. But they couldn’t stave off everyone. The critics simply played dumb—ignoring explanations, posting as if they were random netizens.
Nam clicked his tongue. “New Black really blew up. When Scarlet broke into the top tier, Girls on Top’s fans threw a fit—70% of those rumors came then.”
“But that fight was more balanced. Now we’re getting steamrolled.”
“That just shows how ready everyone was to pounce.”
Hong silently nodded. The real purpose of those posts was to check New Black’s rise. Rookie group winning five newcomer awards, dethroning TNT in the final week—that stung. Every variety appearance drove buzz, and now they were set to appear regularly on a weekend network competition show. Achieved in under nine months since last June’s debut.
But light casts a shadow, and jealous critics lurked, now surfacing—just like today.
Nam asked, “Who do you think’s writing these? TNT fans? Or other rookie idol fans?”
“I think it’s both.” TNT fans still resentful from losing #1, plus other jealous watchers all joining in. It wasn’t about facts; they just seized any pretext to mock.
“Not necessarily bad....”
“Right. Means our kids are really entering the mainstream.”
You can manufacture controversy anytime—capture a facial expression, spin it into nanosecond drama. Until now, New Black’s recognition and popularity weren’t high enough. Now, as they surge and integrate into the mainstream, the haters appeared.
Meanwhile, unlike the Soufflés battling in comments, the PR staff laughed.
“I don’t get it....”
Hong laughed. “Why not just promote them?”
“Exactly. This is free publicity.”
The more they troll, the more other idol fans will tune into the broadcast to check their skills. And once the first-round results air, all these internet rumors will backfire spectacularly. They genuinely wondered how today’s keyboard warriors would react when New Black beat Cha Woo-hyun and Jo Yuri Band to #1 on air.
“Well, I get it.”
Nam grinned. “They wrote this because they can’t imagine New Black doing well in the competition. If they thought we’d win, they wouldn’t have bothered.”
Though known as a skilled rookie group, among idol fans New Black’s reputation wasn’t yet as high as their Master Song Discovery performance. This would change that image.
“How are general netizens reacting?”
“Only idol communities. A storm in a teacup. The public has no expectations yet.”
Unlike the idol communities, the general public was silent—because they had no preconceptions. Even those annoyed by idols appearing will change their stance after round one.
Nam smirked. “You should brace yourself. Once the show airs, we’ll be swamped.”
“We will.”
She smiled. “The only issue is time...”
Sunday’s first broadcast follows New Black visiting Mr. Noh Jae-hyun to discover a great song. Round one airs next Sunday. They had to wait a week—a bittersweet wait.
“I worry about their morale.”
She’d heard the members saw the posts. Would they be okay?
Click.
Director Yoon Seok-hwan entered. Calm as ever, he came straight to them.
“I heard—everything’s okay?”
“Yes. We’re monitoring, but it seems contained. Just a day of noise.”
She asked, “And the kids? Are they alright?”
“Yes.”
Yoon smiled. “They were a bit surprised, but they don’t seem too bothered. They only worried about the fans.”
“That’s a relief.”
“But...”
“But?”
“They’ve, um, ramped up their efforts a bit.”
“Oh? What do you mean?”
“They’re working even harder...”
“Harder than usual?”
She looked stunned. They always gave 100%, and now they were pushing even more.
“...”
“...”
Flipping through her calendar, she asked, “Today’s that—emoji shoot, right?”
“Yes. The set vibe was electric earlier.”
“...”
She somehow pictured the scene perfectly.
“Another take, Director?”
“Uh, well...”
“How about trying a different pose? Like this.”
“Uh... hmm... haven’t we done over ten takes already?”
Monitoring the video, I offered feedback to the director. Initially he’d loved our enthusiasm, but now his eyes were a bit weary.
I turned to the four Minions. “What do you think?”
They answered at once.
“When you say ‘I love you,’ add more soul, hyung—think of grandma as the camera.”
“For the emoji size, the moves should be smaller to look prettier. When you blow a kiss, angle your arm narrower.”
After hearing their suggestions, I looked back at the director.
“How about this?”
“Yeah... okay.”
He agreed the feedback was solid, and we re-shot. Today’s shoot was for messenger-app emojis. In front of the green screen, we struck every prepared pose.
“Woo-joo hyung, my heart is duk-soon-duk-soon!”
“Duk-soon!”
Cheered on by my siblings, I posed as if my heart were going “dug... no, duk-soon-duk-soon!” The storyboard called for the caption “My heart is racing..!”
We planned two emoji sets: first, these posed emojis; then later, edited funny reality-show clips. The second batch was slated for release this summer, though details were hazy. We simply did our best.
“Ri-hyeok!”
“Chief of the Red-Eared Tribe, you’re doing great!”
At the reminder of our Stone Age costumes, Ri-hyeok shot me a fierce look—soon to be an emoji glare.
The others joined in. Jung-hyeon recorded a solemn clap, Biju made a pouty “hngㅠㅠ” face. After each take, the five of us huddled and monitored.
Stretching with satisfied smiles, we breathed out.
“Ah, working really eases stress.”
“Right? After this, some tteokbokki would hit the spot. Want something spicy?”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“Tteokbokki after tomorrow’s Shanghai schedule, then hot pot? If you crave spice, I’ll buy you hot pot.”
“Hot pot...!”
Our maknae’s mind flew to happy places as he draped an arm over my shoulder and squeezed.
“Ah, so refreshing...”
“Hyung. So no tteokbokki today, hot pot tomorrow?”
“No... hey, stop squeezing like that!”
Though his face looked unhappy, my shoulders ached like Grandma Kim Deok-soon’s—something to boast about, or maybe get scolded for. I wanted spice too, but we flew out before dawn tomorrow. No way I’d leave the airport looking like a steamed bun.
Failing to persuade me, he turned to Biju with pleading eyes.
“Biju hyung, just one piece of tteokbokki....”
“Hyung, how about royal tteokbokki tonight?”
“...”
Their mouths snapped shut. Meanwhile, Jung-hyeon was rocking the sticker shoot in the studio—our beetle champion.
“Puhaha!”
We all laughed at Jung-hyeon’s ultra-serious V-sign.
The weekend’s schedule was an overseas showcase, our second overseas appearance after Taiwan—this time in Shanghai.
“Waaaaah!”
We flew overnight, arriving at dawn to hundreds of fans at Pudong International Airport.
“Hello!”
We tried to greet our overseas soufflés...
“Aaah!”
“Careful!”
...but that was impossible. People grabbed our bags and sleeves; I nearly had my arm yanked. Like in Taiwan, hands reached at us from every direction. Thanks to local security, we escaped safely.
“Wow...”
The airport’s energy was electric. Taiwan and here—more fans than expected. Considering population, hundreds was natural, but it was thrilling to attract such support without a major overseas campaign.
We powered through Saturday and Sunday: fashion magazine shoots, interviews, celebrity news program on Shanghai TV, sampling famous local eats on regional stations. Many of these opportunities would’ve required Chinese members, but our fluent Mandarin made it possible.
[“Have you ever lived in China? You’re amazing...”]
[“You could pass for Chinese.”]
[“Why did you learn Chinese?”]
We’d learned Chinese to pursue a global career, and the hosts nodded, “Of course Chinese is essential.” We just smiled.
Our siblings managed simple conversations too, earning airtime. Saturday’s busy events behind us, Sunday afternoon we held a showcase in a sizable venue with Chinese fans. Similar format to Taiwan: Q&A, Jung-hyeon’s rap, Biju’s solo dance, then I closed with the local-arranged “Starlight.”
“...Wow.”
Back in the hotel, busy tweaking songs, practicing our contest pieces, I looked up.
“How did we get here?”
Next thing I knew, I was back on the plane with my siblings, sharing a strange feeling.
“Time feels so weird, hyung.”
Biju said, “It feels like yesterday, but it’s today.”
“When we wake up, it’ll be tomorrow, right?”
“...Exactly. My head’s in knots.”
Yet I felt happy—this whirlwind schedule is what most entertainers dream of: days so packed they blur.
Flight attendant: “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard Cloud Airlines...”
I gripped the armrest. No matter how many times I fly, I can’t adapt. Takeoff’s fine, but landings leave my heart racing and cold sweats. I picture my parents’ plane accident, and knowing most crashes happen at takeoff or landing...
No. Stop that.
I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.
This life...
“Hyung, we’ve arrived.”
“...?”
What?
“And Ri-hyeok says I should wipe your mouth—looks gross.”
“Hah... okay.”
Apparently I’d been drooling in my exhaustion. Blinking dazedly, I wiped my mouth and stared at the gloomy evening sky over Incheon Airport.
...We really made it back. Experiencing the power of sleep was enlightening.
“This... isn’t bad, is it?”
As I rose, Biju slipped a sunflower pillow under my neck.
“Hyung.”
“Yes?”
“You’re not thinking of skipping sleep before we fly again, are you?”
My expression gave me away. I flinched, then recovered my composure.
“Yaaawn...”
Though we all had rose-cheeked faces from rest, our eyes still looked like boiled cabbage—so I donned masks. Now as we entered immigration...
“Huh?”
We stopped in our tracks—there were far more reporters with cameras than usual.
Why are there so many...?
We’d just finished a routine overseas schedule... then it struck me.
Today is Sunday evening—Master Song Discovery’s first broadcast night.
