Free Web NovelThe ocean slid past the car window.
On the drive back to Seoul, Clay Tyler was watching the choreography video.
“Hmm...”
Sometimes at 1.2× speed, sometimes at 0.5×. His finger nudged the playback bar on his tablet.
Soon he uttered a silent exclamation of admiration.
“Perfect.”
The choreography he’d created was being recreated flawlessly by NewBlack’s fingertips.
Clay Tyler smiled.
“This time I’ll be much more relaxed.”
He recalled feeling like a human rag the last time.
Those innocent faces of NewBlack giggling as they squeezed him until the very last drop.
He’d had nightmares «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» for days after returning to L.A., hearing “Hey, Clay” in different tones ringing in his ears whenever he fell asleep.
Well.
This time, unlike during Masquerade, there should be nothing to criticize. He even had insurance.
“But... will that really be the case?”
Though he felt in his gut it might not be, Clay Tyler shook his head.
No. Not today.
Besides, he’d taken precautions this time.
“Dad?”
“...Hm?”
“Why are you looking at me like I’m pitiful?”
Joy Tyler, his daughter sitting beside him, paused mid-selfie and narrowed her eyes at him.
Clay cleared his throat.
“Ahem, nothing.”
Joy resumed taking selfies.
Now nineteen, she was one of the studio’s top dancers.
As his assistant for this choreography coaching, she’d help field questions coming from NewBlack.
The last assistant he’d brought...
“Hey, Garcia. This time in Korea with NewBl—”
“I’m going to church that day, Clay.”
“But you’re an atheist.”
The previous assistant had flat-out refused to work with him; other dancers avoided him after hearing the grim rumors. After that Korea trip, jokes circulated that he’d been “new-blacked,” meaning turned to clay.
So he’d wooed his K-pop–savvy daughter instead.
“It’s a K-pop idol choreography gig.”
“Hmm... okay, I’ll do it.”
Sorry, sweetie. He mentally apologized for future hardships as Joy looked out the window and asked,
“I’m curious—where does NewBlack rank in Korea? Hailey Blue? Logan Smith? Or higher? If you were hired to work with them, they must be big.”
Mentioning top U.S. artists, she made Clay stroke his chin.
“Well, you know more about K-pop than I do, don’t you?”
“I just watch music videos and shows. I haven’t heard NewBlack much.”
“They’re not famous... yet. They have plenty of potential, though...”
Clay remembered his last visit. They’d been filming a reality show for MTV, but NewBlack wasn’t widely known in Korea. He thought they’d won some “Rookie of the Year” award, maybe.
Then Joy narrowed her eyes.
“Huh? Dad, isn’t that NewBlack?”
“Where?”
“There.”
The car paused, and Clay saw a banner for a clothing brand featuring NewBlack as models.
It practically shouted, “These guys are our ad models!!”
“...?”
Soon, it happened again.
An outdoor banner for “EverDream” showed NewBlack in school uniforms, fluttering in the breeze.
Again, it felt like someone yelling, “They’re our models!!!”
Joy looked puzzled.
“But you said they weren’t famous?”
“...Hm.”
He had no idea what was happening. Six months ago, they’d barely been known; now something had changed.
Just then, the Lemon Entertainment staff member driving asked hesitantly,
“Mr. Tyler, shall we head straight to the hotel?”
“That sounds good.”
He asked, “Are NewBlack returning today? We’re all having lunch together anyway, but it might be better to meet them before the hotel.”
“They already returned this morning. They’re doing an event in Myeong-dong right now.”
“An event?”
“Um... TV show Late Success?”
The staff murmured in Korean, “‘What’s the English for ratings again?’” but Clay didn’t grasp the meaning.
“I’d rather meet them directly—can we go there?”
“Certainly.”
The car turned toward Myeong-dong.
Stepping out, father and daughter were startled by the crowds filling the street.
“What is this, why so many people...?”
Caught in the throng, they felt like crumpled bills stuck between bodies. They followed staff through the crush.
Soon they spotted the cause of the chaos.
“Yes, the Masterpiece Discovery Team has received such love, and we’re truly grateful.”
Behind a fence keeping crowds back, Woo-ju held a microphone.
Beside him, NewBlack members beamed and waved at passersby.
There were other unfamiliar singers—an oddly sullen-looking band and male and female soloists—captured by PBS cameras.
A staffer whispered in Woo-ju’s ear, and he raised the mic again.
“We’ve had many guests from overseas, so the production asked me to provide English announcements.”
He then explained in English that, in thanks for high ratings, they’d held a guerrilla performance in Myeong-dong.
Next, fluent Chinese surprised the crowd anew.
His daughter mouthed “Wow,” marveling.
“I barely manage English.” freёwebnovel.com
“...”
Ri-hyuk took the mic and spoke in Japanese, too. A tourist shouted “Kawaii!” and he blushed fiercely, making everyone laugh.
“Waaaah!”
When the cast sang duets and solos, cheers erupted. Over a hundred smartphones recorded the spectacle. Every song brought head nods and rhythmic applause.
“...Huh?”
Clay looked puzzled for two reasons.
First, NewBlack’s talent.
The robust singers on stage were impressive, but NewBlack matched them note for note.
Their image of “just a great dance team” seemed to peel away in an instant.
Second, people were talking about “NewBlack.”
Though he couldn’t catch all the Korean, he heard “NewBlack” whispered. Just the name made some people laugh.
More amazing, their eyes shone with genuine warmth—like greeting familiar friends.
“Has the K-pop landscape changed without my knowing?”
He believed this was NewBlack’s third album; there’d been no new activity since the second.
Joy looked up at him.
“But you said they weren’t famous?”
“...Ah, hm.”
“If that’s ‘not famous,’ the truly famous must be playing the Super Bowl.”
Ignoring his daughter’s teasing, Clay Tyler turned to a young couple nearby and asked,
“Excuse me, what’s the name of this group?”
“Oh, they’re NewBlack.”
“Are they famous?”
The couple exchanged glances before replying,
“We think they are.”
