In This Life, The Greatest Star In The Universe

Good.

The moment we heard the song, we were filled with awe.

“Wow......”

Before Jiho could say anything, Rihyuk cut him off. The youngest, rendered speechless, expressed his emotions with his eyes.

‘This is amazing, isn’t it?’

It was a piece that conjured such a splendid atmosphere you could picture it in your mind as you listened.

It felt like drifting in a small boat on a lake where the Milky Way shone, while fantastically glowing fish swam beneath the surface, creating waves of light.

With each note that seeped into our ears, a spray of colorful mist erupted.

‘I love it.’

“It’s great, hyung.”

We glanced at each other with expressions of admiration.

This track was worthy of being chosen as the main title, surpassing the original work’s many masterpieces.

Soon, the question in our minds was replaced by anticipation.

It was rising.

I felt a hundred percent certain this would be a hit.

My heart was pounding.

It was as if a lifeline had fallen from above and we scrambled to grab it, only to find Jiho at the end, holding out a golden bucket and saying, “Come on over!”

At the male vocal’s high-pitched, explosive chorus, we all went “Kuh” in delight.

With each note of the song, one member was becoming more and more limp.

“.......”

Rihyuk was turning pale in real time.

The song we were hearing was “Falling Stars,” a track so daunting few would dare cover it.

“.......”

Every second, Rihyuk swept a hand through his hair; we patted his back in encouragement.

When the song ended, the distribution company staff asked,

“How is it?”

We beamed.

“It’s absolutely incredible. I got goosebumps listening to it.”

“At first, I was worried because they said it was an original number not in the source material, but this more than earns its place as the main title.”

“Now I understand why the director chose Rihyuk. His age, his timbre—it fits perfectly.”

They all nodded in agreement at that praise.

The company’s PD smiled and said,

“We were surprised too. When the director specifically mentioned Rihyuk, I wondered why, but the moment we heard it, we thought, ‘Ah, the Korean version has to be sung by Rihyuk.’”

“That’s right. He really sounds like the American Rihyuk.”

Junghyun’s “American Rihyuk” joke made everyone laugh.

Rihyuk smiled bashfully at the compliments, but then asked with a hint of worry,

“Who sang the original?”

“They said Rupert Dean, the lead actor, recorded it himself in the studio.”

“Rupert Dean?”

Rupert Dean was a rising Hollywood actor in his twenties—I even knew his face.

But his vocal performance was so professional we were puzzled, until the PD explained,

“He comes from a famous line of opera singers on his mother’s side in Italy. He’s been building his career since he was six, starting with bit parts on Broadway.”

No wonder the technical flair and detailed handling of the melody felt so professional.

As we nodded in understanding, the distribution team moved on to business matters.

“We’ll oversee the cover video, but the U.S. side will give final approval.”

“And what about releasing the Korean version of the track?”

At Seok-hwan hyung’s question, we perked up. They nodded readily.

“Yes, there’s consensus on that. The revenue split will be tight, but there shouldn’t be any issue with a Korean release.”

“That’s great.”

Now we had one more reason to do this well: if our cover video generated demand for a Korean version, it would benefit us too.

Our manager discussed procedures and profits with the company staff in a friendly atmosphere.

Though lighthearted, the conversation was loaded with money.

Amid the laughter, they were subtly negotiating “How much?” “You go first,” “No, you.” It was like a game of tug-of-war.

“The mood is great.”

I smiled at Junghyun’s pleased expression.

While our manager extracted favorable terms one by one, we huddled in a corner to run through our prepared questions.

We wanted to identify anything that needed supplementing before heading out.

“Then we’ll prepare accordingly, Director.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ve heard you’re in charge of artists— you really know this industry well.”

“There are many people in our company who handle actors, so I’ve overheard some things.”

When the PD calmly responded to Seok-hwan hyung, they shot him a strange look.

“May we ask a few things?”

“Of course.”

We raised our questions: we asked for detailed descriptions of the scene where the song would play and the duration of the segment.

We also discussed the arrangement for the cover of “Falling Stars.”

“We can rearrange it?” freёweɓnovel.com

“Yes. The production side said rearrangements are okay within limits—so long as it’s not a complete overhaul.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful.”

We nodded and smiled at the news. We had assumed they wouldn’t allow any rearrangement, so being able to tailor it just for Rihyuk was a relief.

The PD said,

“By the way, I heard that most of the tracks by Baramkkot and NewBlack were written by Uju?”

We nodded proudly.

“That’s right. Uju hyung wrote them all.”

“We plan to ride that wave again.”

We made up our minds once more: no matter what, we’d pour everything we had into these guys.

The PD team, still smiling, said,

“It’s a short phrase, but we’re excited to see what you’ll come up with.”

“I’m excited too. I really like Baramkkot. I listen to it on my way to work even now.”

“And I loved the life arrangements we heard from the Meister Group.”

We listened happily to their talk about our songs.

Moments like this made us truly feel our music resonated with the public—people far from the music industry knew NewBlack’s songs.

“By the way, how much time should we allocate? Two weeks?”

“I think a week will do.”

“......?”

“The main melody is already done.”

“Already?”

“Yes. I think it fits perfectly with our main title, ‘Falling Stars.’”

Our younger members looked at me in surprise, then broke into smiles as they realized, “Oh, he made it before coming here.”

I smiled awkwardly at the staff’s admiration. It wasn’t something I had prepared in advance—I’d simply come up with the melody while listening to “Falling Stars.” I didn’t bother to correct them.

Their curiosity peaked.

“I can’t wait.”

“I think you’ll like it.”

I answered with a smile. It was a melody I felt was just right: bright and lively, as if playful fairies were bouncing around.

As soon as we got back to the office, I started composing.

I’d originally planned to write just one or two bars, but ideas flowed like leaves budding from a branch.

So.

“I wrote an entire song?”

“Yeah.”

My members stared at me in disbelief.

“After you listen, could you tell me which part I should cut out to send them?”

“Hmm......”

When I played the song, everyone tilted their heads in puzzlement.

Viju answered my unspoken question.

“It’s all so good I don’t know which part to cut.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. One moment I think this part fits, then I feel that part might fit better.”

The others reacted similarly.

“It’s like a pizza divided into eight slices. No matter which slice you pick, it’ll taste amazing. Oh, I want pizza.”

“I’ll buy you pizza gummies, hyung.”

Everyone agreed with Junghyun’s analogy.

Not just the A&R team ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) who heard the song, but even Director Kang stroked his chin and frowned.

— It’s such a shame to cut anything here.

— What if you finish the whole thing and send it? That might be better. When I face ambiguous choices as an ear professional, I usually leave it up to the production company.

So we decided to finalize the full song first and decide later. Since confidentiality was important, the A&R team joined in for the final touches instead of outside composers.

“Could you arrange this section for me?”

“Which part?”

“From here to here.”

“Oh, from start to finish, huh, Uju?”

They placed a hand on my shoulder, their lips trembling in excitement.

“When you finish, I’ll buy you meat.”

“Korean beef? Regular beef?”

“Of course Korean beef.”

They won over our composers with the promise of meat, and they took on the work.

“But why do you work while playing ‘Men on the Go’ Part One?”

“It’s healing. Like rain ASMR—listening warms my heart.”

“.......”

“Ah, this is great.”

They cheered as I tumbled down a rappel like “hiyak-kuk!” or rolled on the floor, but if they were happy, that was fine......

Like oompa-loompas in a chocolate factory, the staff busily crafted the song while we focused on our main duties. The OST was important, but it wasn’t our top priority.

Even if it went well, it wasn’t going to miraculously catapult us onto Hollywood billboards. If we were seriously planning a U.S. debut, maybe—but for us, who hadn’t even reached the top in Korea, it wasn’t the top project.

We’d be happy if it succeeded, but could accept if it didn’t. Our real work came first, so we left the latter OST work to the staff and threw ourselves into the upcoming concert and album.

“Gasp... gasp......”

“Oh, I’m dying here.”

“Why is the human body so resilient? I want to collapse, but why won’t I collapse......”

Under our main dancer’s guidance, the hellish choreography practice continued. No one could argue with Rihyuk’s cries of “Why is every dance routine this brutal!?”

Each move had its own cautionary points.

“Be careful with your waist here. Knees here. Neck here......”

“Nine, how about you, Viju?”

“Um... full body?”

“.......”

The centerpieces of the concert—our main title tracks—were all packed with punishing choreography.

“And they expect us to learn it all in one day......”

Plus memorizing lyrics for album tracks in the set list—it was a veritable mountain of challenges.

We lacked the strength to even wake from nightmares and flailed about.

We could feel ourselves growing more exhausted by the minute.

“What were our past selves thinking when we took on so much?”

“No kidding.”

Concert, album, content for MyTube and Y-App, plus the OST we’d eagerly agreed to.

“And the Olympics too.”

“.......”

We rebuked our past selves while deciding to approach it all with calm minds.

“Hehehe! Practice!”

“Hehehe! Dance!”

“We’re not ourselves! So even if we’re tired, it’s not really me who’s tired.”

“That’s right! Woooaaah!”

Every break, we dashed down the office hallway with empty minds, bouncing around so cheerfully our CEO would run a worried hand through his hair.

After venting our fatigue and stress that way, we refocused on work. It was hard, but bearable.

It felt like climbing Everest and finally nearing the summit—the snowstorm tormenting us now, just a few more steps before the dazzling white peak.

“But when you reach the top, you have to come back down, right?” free𝑤ebnovel.com

“.......”

“That’s not logically sound, is it?”

Still, that feeling gripped us and carried us through.

Even during our last album, we were anxious with “What if this album flops?” but this time, we felt less worried. We had conviction.

That’s why we felt less emotional turbulence.

“Hyungs! Hyungs! Look at this.”

“What is it?”

“TeenSpirit’s repackaged album comeback is happening around the same time as ours.”

“Whoa......”

We all went pale at the news that TeenSpirit’s comeback, expected in early October, had been pushed up to late August—just another brutal schedule.

In another sense.

“Those seniors at TeenSpirit really have insane schedules.”

“They finish their overseas tour and come back immediately. Then what?”

“I saw comments saying they arrive in Korea and the next day they’re recording for the Olympics.”

In the article’s photo, TeenSpirit beamed brightly, but we could almost see a speech bubble saying, “Man, I’m exhausted...”

They were supposedly holding their last concert in LA. Jet-lagged, they’d have to record for the Olympics right away.

Even a top-tier boy group like that couldn’t escape the Olympics’ clutches, which made us laugh—and feel grateful for our own situation.

“Well, at least our schedule’s pretty relaxed......”

I realized, compared to them, we weren’t doing so badly.

Yet it wasn’t like last November, when TNT’s comeback delay left my heart sinking. Even hearing that TeenSpirit’s comeback overlapped with ours, we remained calm.

Win or lose, TeenSpirit is TeenSpirit, and NewBlack is NewBlack. We wouldn’t be overshadowed, no matter what.

Sure, we had confidence in our song, but more than anything, our Soufflés had our backs.

— From Uju’s store, special forces guarding him doubling his coffin space.gif

— So cute... why do I love this...

— Haha, endless dark histories~~

— Papa-dark

— Let’s walk the dark path of life with Uju forever!! (fist x2)

...Sometimes it felt like internal saboteurs, but thanks to our fans, much of our unease was dissolved.

It was like the reassurance you feel when you’re preparing for a team evaluation at school and end up on a team with strong students.

For those team members, we brought out everything we’d prepared.

“Hey, who asked for Wang-bong? Put him away.”

“.......”

Junghyun sulked as he set Wang-bong aside and picked up Dal-bong.

“Dal-bong. That’s the one.”

“Ah, right.”

I cleared my throat and looked at my members.

“You ready?”

They nodded.

Today was August 1st.

It was time for our first live broadcast on the Y-App, which we’d been prepping for.

7:00 PM.

The rattling subway, libraries with people trickling out, bus windows framing the night view—Soufflés all over the country had shining eyes.

[whY-App]

Surprise live starting!

“NewBlack’s After-Work Radio~”

My phone vibrated with an alert; I tapped it.

I felt a slight awkwardness with the unfamiliar interface, having only done SNS lives before.

Then NewBlack’s members appeared on screen.

“Oh, it really is a radio show...!”

Whether Lemon Ent. spared no effort or not, the set where we sat looked exactly like a radio studio.

Uju, wearing headphones, spoke into the mic.

[There’s rumor that one of our maknaes overslept and missed morning practice, and he gave an excuse.]

[He said he was looking at the night sky because it was so beautiful, so he stayed up late.]

At Viju’s cheerful reenactment of the line, Jiho shot him a glare.

Uju continued.

[Isn’t that sentimental? Hearing that made me wonder if I’ve been living too rationally and lacked emotion. But...]

[Practice comes first.]

[That’s right. Practice before feelings. Right, Jiho-ssi?]

[Ye...yes.]

While the maknae mutely said “yes...,” the hyungs clapped and laughed.

Uju flipped his mic back on.

[Of course, this is a fictional story. It didn’t happen this morning. Either way, it underscores the importance of hard work.]

He went on.

[For everyone who worked hard today, NewBlack is here for you. Here’s our first song: “You Did Great Today.”]

Just as the song was about to play and Soufflés tuned in, Uju tapped a mini keyboard on the table with a cheerful “plunk-plunk,” and Rihyuk began to sing.

The Soufflés laughed and posted comments.