In This Life, The Greatest Star In The Universe

TBC building, Sangam-dong.

Passing through the darkened first-floor lobby, I stepped into the elevator toward the third-floor studio.

“Ahem ahem.”

Behind me drifted the final-round favorite “Gentle Breeze” sung earlier by Senior Lisa. Mingi hyung hummed the tune to himself. When our eyes met, he hummed even louder—“ahem ahem!”—as if daring me to complain.

I sighed deeply.

“Mingi hyung.”

“Ahem... yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

I said it to the one grinning next to me.

“I don’t know what for, but I apologize first. Hyung. If you’re upset, I’ll treat you to something delicious...”

“Ah, nothing to be upset about. What could I be upset with you for?”

This guy had plenty built up.

Ding.

The elevator doors opened. As we walked down the corridor, he watched my flustered face and kept smiling. I half-expected a disguised voice to announce, “Hello, this is NewBlack’s manager~.”

“What could I be upset about? Like the time I was told to just listen to the track for a minute, and they held me for three hours...”

“But I bought you barbecue that day.”

“Oh, right.”

We both burst out laughing. Carrying boxes of coffee for the staff, the manager chuckled.

“I’m kidding. Won-seok and I have nothing to be upset about. You’re all so great. Of course, I know plenty of dark history for blackmail purposes...”

“Ah, hyung.”

“We’re not on the call lineup later, so don’t worry.”

Phew. Good.

Then he spoke more seriously.

“But I don’t know about the director.”

Cackling, I shot him a look. He changed his expression and asked,

“Feeling less nervous?”

“Yes, thanks to you.”

“So what if you mess up? Relax. Everyone can see how tense you are by your shoulders.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“When you’re stressed you talk so much less.”

It was my first time appearing alone on a terrestrial variety show. I worried about getting airtime. He patted me on the shoulder.

“Just be yourself. It’s not like your airtime is make-or-break. Being yourself is enough.”

“You’re right.”

“Be relaxed. Sometimes you still seem stuck in rookie mode.”

I smiled gratefully, and he met my eyes.

“Honestly, you can’t not get airtime on Sintokki.”

“...Please don’t say stuff like that seriously, hyung.”

We walked on, still laughing, until we reached Studio C.

“Only Han-jo’s in the waiting room, right?”

“Yeah, his manager said they’re the only ones there. Recording won’t start for a while.”

We’d arranged coffees in advance, so his manager was covering costs. Was Han-jo in that waiting room? Excited to meet him again, I opened the door.

“Hel—”

I froze when I met the eyes of two men seated at the table.

One in particular caught me off guard.

The road manager for Street Boys looked like someone I’d seen before, but the one I assumed was Han-jo...

“Hello, Woo-joo.”

Under a T-shirt, he displayed thick muscles I’d never noticed.

With the managers, I handed coffees to the Sintokki staff, then, as the hosts hadn’t arrived, returned to the waiting room and sat Han-jo down.

“W-what’s happened here?”

“You’ve been working out, right?”

Han-jo shrugged with an embarrassed smile and I nodded.

“It’s not just working out. It’s like in Super Mario—eat the mushroom and you grow.”

He laughed and his muscles rippled. Wow—I was startled. The last time I saw him was at the awards in late January. In three months he’d transformed from a diligent, handsome college president type into a fireman calendar model. Tanned and muscular.

“Not used to it, are you?”

“No. Really.”

“We’re startled at night too. When you guys huddle in the dark, you look like tough guys in an alley.”

I laughed imagining that. At my pun about “the log really becoming a log,” he laughed again.

Han-jo calmly explained.

“Last year’s rookie award nominees all did well and carved niches—Blink for skill, Serenity for visuals...”

Blink and Serenity, backed by major agencies, showed the power of the Big Four this year. Serenity’s visuals built a fandom; Blink’s performance edge shone in the charts. Even without us, Street Boys stood out among rookie nominees. Yet compared to the others, their success was still modest.

“The creative team and company planners debated. Hip-hop’s been a bit quiet in streaming. It’d be tough like this, so....”

They planned a “hip-hop + beast idol” concept, filling a gap left by second-gen “beast idols.” If it failed, they’d drop it.

“I nearly died building these muscles,” Han-jo said, downing a protein shake tearfully.

“When’s your next comeback?”

“Probably end of May...? Nothing’s set.”

“Then you’ll release around our follow-up single.”

“You have a follow-up? ...That’s a problem.”

His worry made me laugh—someone might think we were the TNT debut team. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

Han-jo sipped his shake.

“By the way, do you know what today’s show will cover?”

“No. I wish I knew.”

This show valued authenticity; even guests never knew in advance.

“But Woo-joo, you don’t need to worry about airtime. I’m jealous.”

“What’s there to be jealous of...?”

“When I came today, my manager told me to stick by you. If you’re alone, you’re no fun, so they said I’d save your airtime.”

“I’m hearing a storm of IMs right now.”

I showed him my phone briefly.

Ji-ho [Apologize]

Jung-hyun [clap]

Ri-hyuk [Apologize]

Jung-hyun [clap]

Biju [Our apologizing Woo-joo hyung, you got this]

Jung-hyun [Phew]

Han-jo chuckled. I felt a bit voyeuristic. Then Ji-ho asked,

Ji-ho [Is Han-jo hyung next to you??]

Ji-ho [Street Boys sent messages via computer, they asked me to forward]

Ji-ho [“Apologize”]

Ji-ho [“If you don’t apologize for your wrongs, lightning will strike in the studio”]

Ji-ho [“The tree stays still.” “Why?”]

I laughed, clapping. While I had my warm “You little rascals...” big-brother moment, other guests arrived.

“Hi.”

TNT leader Koo Sun-woong entered with a deep, clear voice. Han-jo waved lightly at him, then turned to me.

“You, chart-topping singer.”

“Sun-woong hyung, long time no see.”

We shook hands, shoulders brushing as he took the chair I pulled out for him.

“It’s been a while since the awards. Keep in touch.”

“You need my number.”

“Oh, did I forget to tell you I changed it? I change numbers regularly because of sasaeng fans.”

The other guests greeted him politely—thankfully he liked that. I laughed because we weren’t that close, really—our debut teams’ lines never mixed deeply, only joking when everyone was there.

Then Wild’s Woo-san arrived. We’d once played on the same lineup for the Olympic basketball team. I’d nicknamed him “Doberman” for his angular face, and every time he smiled, I thought of that.

“Hello!”

I greeted him as he greeted Han-jo and me with “Our aces!” Sun-woong stood and said,

“This is Woo-san.”

“Sun-woong hyung? It’s really been a while—stay in touch.”

“I need to know your number.”

“Mine changes due to sasaeng fans...”

Han-jo and I stifled laughs—so they weren’t close, either. Just as the four of us sat in an awkward silence, the door burst open and the last guest arrived.

“Aish.”

A pretty boy in a rider jacket muttered, “Traffic’s terrible again.” His manager looked serene behind him—other managers shot sympathetic looks. Classic.

Sun-woong rose again.

“Yo, Hwi-yeon....”

“I don’t text. It’s annoying. I’m so busy I can’t.”

“......”

“Change your greeting and sasaeng playlist. It’s boring.”

His blunt words left Sun-woong stunned, replying timidly, “Uh, yeah....” Hwi-yeon slumped onto a chair. Watching him, I thought how I’d love to live life like that—saying exactly what you want without fear. “Life is like TeenSpirit,” a slogan popped into my head.

Silence deepened. This atmosphere—would tonight’s show be okay?

...That was an amateur’s worry.

As soon as the cameras rolled, these idol-radiating young men laughed together in easy conviviality.

“Hello!”

Hwi-yeon, who’d grumbled “The lights are so hot...,” sat beside me and greeted the camera.

“I’m Hwi-yeon, the bright, bubbly leader of TeenSpirit! Please treat me well~!”

I managed my expression and scanned the studio with a sidelong glance. Dozens of cameras recorded every move of each guest while writers below scribbled on sketchpads. Among the managers standing behind us, Mingi hyung mouthed “Fighting!” in support.

The set looked like a trendy bar—colorful lights and wood-tone décor, with a neon sign of a rabbit pounding rice cakes above “New Concept Talk Show: Find My Memory.” Guests and hosts sat around a large round table facing each other.

“Next is someone hotter than hot right now—returned with a mini second album that snatched weekly chart #1 and dubbed ‘funnier than variety stars’ on SNS: the leader of NewBlack!”

One MC introduced me.

“NewBlack’s leader, Woo-joo!”

“Yes, hello!”

I smiled at the camera.

“I’m Woo-joo, leader of NewBlack, back with our mini second album Baramkkot! Please support us!”

As the other guests applauded, the hosts reacted.

“Wow, handsome.”

“I’ve been listening to Baramkkot lately—your voice is amazing.”

“Look at our writers grinning like nuts—haven’t seen that in ages. Woo-joo, wave your hand there for them.”

I waved and the writers shook sketchpads like lightsticks on camera. Then we briefly promoted the third album. When we performed Baramkkot, the hosts and idols reacted—“Oh my, what a song...!”

“The song is so good. You wrote and composed it yourself?”

“I see here you composed all your title tracks so far—and produced this album too.”

“A multi-talent.”

Wild’s Woo-san and TeenSpirit’s Hwi-yeon looked at me with interest. I shook my head.

“The lyrics were by our main vocalist Ri-hyuk. Composing had lots of help from the members.”

The MCs teased me.

“So polite. We hate that!”

“Being too prim is a bit....”

“Be honest. Say you did it all and your members just tagged along.”

“Not at all. Not once did I think that....”

At their prodding, the “Lie Detector” chimed.

I hadn’t seen that in ages. On this show guests often deny the truth to trigger the lie detector. One host said,

“You should put your hand on the detector. C’mon.”

“Oh. The detector.”

Variety star Yoo Chang-hyun strapped my hand to the detector. Confused, I asked,

“Why are we using it for this—?”

“Don’t worry. Everyone else will too.”

The MC pressed on.

“Answer the question: you think you composed it all yourself.”

“Not at all.”

The detector beeped “truth.”

“Hey, boring.”

“This was too obvious....”

“Then let’s change questions: I want all the royalties to myself. Answer on three.”

“One... two... three—No? Of course we split them... ouch!”

Ouch. More than the sting, I felt embarrassed. While everyone roared with laughter, I feigned innocence.

“The machine malfunctioned.”

The MCs ignored me.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.”

“You’ve got to share royalties. Money’s not family business.”

Before I could respond, they barreled on, and I felt my spirit drain. Regaining focus, I found myself shouting a video apology to my brothers.

“Souffle and my darlings, don’t misunderstand. The machine glitched.”

“Shall we try again?”

“This one’s broken. If there’s another—”

“Got one! Get it!”

“Ahhh...! I’m sorry. I was blinded by money...!”

I grabbed one host’s wrist to stop him fetching a new detector, and everyone laughed. Then they introduced the other guests in turn, grilling them similarly. freёwebnovel.com

“TNT’s younger line was way too big. Back in the day when I was leader and oldest, I couldn’t even look them in the eye. True or false?”

“Not at all... eeek!”

Sun-woong’s dignified image was dismantled.

“Street Boys—when I first heard that name, I wondered what the CEO was thinking.”

“CEO Im Hyeon-sik, I love... haah!”

Those claiming “No regrets choosing ‘Woo-san’” or “I don’t think I’m handsome” were routed one by one. Sintokki’s customary intros: early in the show they disarm guests with talk that might reveal true feelings. Then, unguarded, guests relax later. They spent almost thirty minutes on intros before diving into personal investigations.

“...And today’s most anticipated is Woo-joo. We dug up an online post: ‘No idol handsomer than NewBlack!’”

A bold title. Just as I braced for backlash, one MC read on:

“Here’s its content: Sorry, I baited you to show this. NewBlack’s dark history is world-class...!”

It was just a fan’s post.

“That’s a lot. The fandom name itself came from a slip-up, video letters jealous of cats, a workbook ad, Taiwan’s Woo-Jenmin...”

“Insane. This is the talent we need!”

“If Sintokki were a university, this kid’d be valedictorian.”

As each entry rolled out, I had to explain. Even Han-jo, who’d only known the cat video letter, stared wide-eyed. Other guests marvelled “Wow...” while the MCs looked like gold miners who struck pay dirt.

“Looking forward to it, Woo-joo.”

“At that age, he logged ten years’ worth of dark history. A god-given talent.”

“Oh, where have you been until now?”

The PD gave the OK sign for the call segment.

“Finally, the first call. It’s to NewBlack’s Woo-joo.”

“Shall we answer~?”

Who could it be? One MC asked me,

“Think you’ll recognize the voice?”

“Yes. If it’s someone I know well. I’m good at catching vocal quirks.”

“Not so easy. We heavily modulate voices. Last time they fooled Lee Kyun-woo’s own dad.”

A distorted, greasy, deep voice came through:

-Hellooo~

“Please introduce yourself!”

-I’m one of the people closet to NewBlack~~.

The slow, heavy voice amused an MC.

“Member, maybe?”

-It could be~ and could not be.

“Definitely a member, then.”

An MC said as I was asked:

“Do you know who it is?”

“Yes.”

-It ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) couldn’t be~? Heh heh.

I nodded.

“It’s Manager Won-seok. That’s his voice.”

-The heck...

“Won-seok hyung.”

“Hello, Seok-hwan?”

Silence. Everyone clapped and laughed.

-It’s not me... I’m not that person~~.

“Sounds right to me. He emphasizes the first syllable slightly.”

-It’s not him...

“But he wouldn’t call a show like this.”

I said like a detective, and they watched me with fascination.

“I think my brothers are coaching beside him and feeding him lines.”

-...

“Right now they’re making an X with their hands, and Ri-hyuk and Ji-ho are furiously texting. Right, hyung?”

-Um...

“Biju’s covering his mouth, Jung-hyun’s eating snacks.”

While everyone laughed at “like a ghost,” voices slipped through the receiver again. Distorted voices I could now identify.