Free Web NovelA small theater of about one hundred seats.
As we entered, waves of Dalbong light sticks shook wildly and screams erupted.
“Did everyone get here okay?”
The fans answered, “Yes!”
“Thank you so much for coming.”
“Really.”
“Last night, Viju couldn’t sleep—he was so excited to watch the movie with over a hundred people.”
At the chorus of “Ooooh,” Viju smiled sheepishly and took the mic.
“Thank you all for coming. Let’s have a great time watching today!”
“Waaaah—!”
Just then, Junghyun, looking around the audience, asked,
“How’s the popcorn and soda? Tasty?”
“Yes!”
“Good to hear.”
The fans, clutching the popcorn and sodas we’d bought with our own money, waved and laughed. Then Junghyun proudly pulled something steaming from his basket.
“Ta-da!”
A plump squid leg appeared, emitting a fragrant aroma—butter-grilled squid.
“Aaaah—!”
“You have popcorn, right?”
At Junghyun’s prompt, we each held up our popcorn like an inspector’s badge.
“We have butter-grilled squid!”
Our managers burst out laughing. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com
“Hey, that’s unfair!”
To spread the smell, the maknae and I fanned the squid teasingly, and the fans bubbled with excitement as if starting a revolution.
I raised both hands and said,
“Calm down. We knew this would happen, so we brought five extra butter-grilled squids.”
“...!”
“We had you fill out questionnaires before entering, right? We’ll randomly draw five of the responses now.”
As I waved my hands like casting a spell, everyone’s eyes fixed on my palm.
“Here we go!”
I drew a paper.
“The fan seated at K11! Congratulations!”
“Ah, you startled me!”
The fan at the very back nearly spilled their popcorn tub in surprise, and laughter exploded at the same ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) time.
“They wrote in the ‘One thing to tell us’ field: ‘NewBlack, you’re so cheeky. A-w-e-s-o-m-e!’”
“Hahaha! We love that!”
The K11 fan waved both hands, “Yay!”
“Our prize will be delivered via express courier. If you want a message from a particular member, just let us know—Mitaine is the fastest, Ri-hyuk the slowest.”
“Hey, wait.”
“Who shall we send?”
The K11 fan shyly said, “Ri-hyuk...” and Ri-hyuk’s cheeks exploded in a grin.
“M-me?”
His pale face flushed as he walked up lightly, and everyone laughed. As the fan wiped their hands as though receiving something precious, Ri-hyuk wiped his hands, too. We all bowed and exchanged butter-grilled squid, laughing at the ritual.
Back at the mic, Ri-hyuk boasted to the maknae,
“Next time, this spot’s mine—no exceptions!”
While the fans laughed at the maknae’s hearty jealousy, I continued the raffle. The questionnaires were about our MTube content: what they wanted to see, feedback, and so on. I smiled at the pages filled with scribbles.
After the drawing, Ri-hyuk gave a quick etiquette reminder, and I laughed,
“Oh—right.”
“Before we came in, I saw you gathering outside on the first floor.”
“...?”
“What dance were you doing out there?”
“Aah!”
The embarrassed faces of our fans made us laugh—until suddenly they struck back.
“What the heck! Why didn’t you wave?”
“Are we embarrassing?”
Shaking my head, I said,
“You know we would’ve—there just wasn’t a good moment. If we had waved, you might’ve felt awkward.”
As the fans thought, “They’re really dodging it...,”
“Woo-ju hyung was the first to roll down his window!”
“Ji-ho!”
“Puhahaha!”
While the others teased me, I shifted the topic:
“But really, I’m curious—what dance were you doing with your Dalbongs?”
Immediately came murmured answers:
“Huh?”
“The Koo dance!”
“Koo?”
Then someone shouted loud enough:
“The Pirarucu dance!”
Pushing their Dalbongs back and forth to demonstrate, they had us clutching our stomachs with laughter.
“K11! Why are you laughing?”
Ri-hyuk shouted, face bright red.
“Don’t laugh! Whoever’s laughing now, I’m coming to steal your squid—seriously!”
“Hahahah!”
Soon the movie started.
“Huh...”
As the lights dimmed, Viju covered his mouth with both hands and let out a similar giggle, then whispered to me,
“Hyung, I love this so much.”
“I’m excited, too.”
“There are almost a hundred fans here. I haven’t done a group watch since middle school.”
“Oh—really.”
Viju’s excitement was like an elementary kid thrilled at his birthday party. The other members wore similar expressions. Junghyun happily munched his butter-grilled squid, and Ri-hyuk and Ji-ho playfully fought over whose soda slot to use, all smiles.
I was happy, too. It’d been ages since I’d gone to the movies, and even longer since I’d watched one with friends. The last time was Harry Potter with Taehyun, Ji-hoon, and Hanbin.
“Oh—it’s starting. Let’s go.”
Our film buff’s eyes glittered as the distributor and production company logos appeared on the small screen.
Ba-baam!
A massive Earth spun like, “Hello, aren’t I grand?” as a majestic score played. Lightning crackled in the background.
“Oh, this is good.”
“That’s the production logo, Junghyun.”
“Ah.”
“And no talking,” Ri-hyuk added, reminding manners, and Junghyun nodded.
Each time Junghyun whispered, “Oh, a movie?,” we teased, “Distribution company~” “Graphics house~” as various logos passed.
Finally, the feature began. The screen went pitch-dark, then brightened to a white glare that briefly stung my eyes.
Rustle-rustle.
A snowy park spread out, and a pianist’s statue stood. A little boy wearing a cap with a liquor emblem and a thick jacket sat on a bench, scribbling in a notebook. His drawings, rudimentary stick figures and trophies, filled the page. When the boy grinned and removed one glove, holding out his bare hand—
“...?”
He then flipped the notebook’s pages in rapid succession, and the stick figures sprang to life like animation. From infancy under loving parents’ care to his rise as a prodigy winning trophies and embracing his family—warm scenes ensued.
Then one day, on a family outing—
Krikk-kik-krraang!
A sudden explosion stunned Ri-hyuk.
“Ah, you scared me.”
Ji-ho offered him his soda straw in comfort, making Ri-hyuk jump even more. Meanwhile, the notebook’s last page fluttered, revealing twisted, broken limbs like dead branches among wreckage.
“....”
As silence fell in the theater, the notebook snapped shut in a close-up. A leather cover appeared, displaying the title The Nostalgia, then the notebook opened again.
Scratch-scratch.
A hospital record with the name “Jayden Miller” appeared. A subtitle introduced “Jayden Miller,” and the chart listed his injuries. Simultaneously, phone rings and murmurs were inserted into the background soundtrack. The nurse writing the chart paused and looked up. Through the glass, she saw a young man with his entire body wrapped in bandages.
“Damn.”
Inside the hospital room, a middle-aged man wept, splashing water on his face as he watched the sleeping protagonist. Then he asked the approaching doctor,
“What will happen?”
“First we must monitor symptoms, but... it’s not good.”
“His hands? Can he still use his hands?”
“...He will never play the piano as he did before.”
“....”
The man, evidently the boy’s piano teacher, grasped Jayden’s hand, sobbing, then left the room. The patient’s eyes fluttered open. In pain, he began to weep quietly—the tears of someone who’d lost family, dreams, everything.
After a montage of rehabilitation training, Jayden, introduced by his teacher, visits a nearby county library.
An overgrown garden. A massive brick building draped in ivy, ominous enough for ghosts. In a spooky atmosphere, the protagonist pushes open the library doors.
“Hello? Is anyone here?”
His voice echoed like in a cave. Eerie statues and ancient tomes passed by to unsettling music—then Bang! A book thudded to the floor, and he screamed.
“Kyaaaa!”
Our once-melancholy hero shrieked like a girl, drawing a laugh from the theater.
“Who’s there?”
An old man hanging from a ladder by the shelves slid down. The protagonist said,
“I was sent by Mr. Thomas Brett.”
“Ah.”
White eyebrows, a shock of white hair. The old man peered at his notes through a magnifier, nodded, then smiled broadly.
“Welcome. I’m Tom Sawyer, the librarian.”
“Tom Sawyer?”
“Interesting name, right? Come this way.”
With a kindly voice, the librarian led him deeper, and thus the story of Nostalgia truly began.
The screening ended in cheerful spirits.
“That was really fun...”
“It’s the best movie I’ve seen recently. The actors were all incredible.”
“So entertaining—really.”
On the drive back to our lodging, we chattered excitedly.
“I thought the librarian was going to be evil...”
“The crocodile? That must’ve been CGI, right?”
“I still see the Emperor’s New Clothes king in my mind—some naked pervert chasing like the Terminator.”
“Pahaha!”
The 1 hour 40 minute runtime flew by. At first I wondered, “With this much fun, why so much hard promotion?” But in the mid-to-late scenes, seeing our “Thousand Dreams” and Rupert Dean’s “Falling Stars” in the graphics made it clear.
“Everyone, when the VOD drops, let’s watch it again.”
“Definitely.”
Viju nodded at my words—it really was that good. The reveal of what “Nostalgia” meant, the context for the opening notebook scenes, and the protagonist’s new path—all resonated through personal experience.
“At this point, they have to call us up to the stage.”
At my remark, Ri-hyuk cleared his throat and started,
“Falling—falling stars~”
“And I’m not scared~~”
In the car, we sang “Falling Stars,” bobbing along happily. The scene of the transparent sea turning bright blue, the protagonist pausing mid-stroke on a boat as CG meteors rained down—that was a masterpiece. Even in the cover video, it impressed us, but seeing it in the film was next-level.
The fans, quiet throughout, all went “Wow” at that moment.
Then,
“A thousand dreams~~”
“Our song~~”
“Million dreams~~~”
We hummed and danced to “Thousand Dreams” together.
Mingi, in the passenger seat, said,
“When that part came in the theater, it was so moving. I’d heard it, but seeing it with visuals was different.”
“It felt strange,” said Manager Won-seok,
“hearing our voices in a foreign film.”
“Right? We feel the same.”
Knowing our voices were in a movie released worldwide was surreal. The fans at the theater responded passionately, expecting our song but not its central role.
“Thousand stars~ thousand dreams~”
Long after we parted with the fans, we kept singing “Thousand Dreams” in chorus—a lively, joyous vibe. But the real reason everyone was so excited and moved came next.
Viju said,
“When the soundtrack drops, it’ll do great, right? We shouldn’t expect too much...but still...”
“It will.”
“Really?”
Junghyun jumped in,
“Right. My—”
“If you start foreshadowing, I’ll open the door and kick you out, Junghyun.”
At that, Junghyun smacked his popcorn bowl with a huff, and we laughed. Even if he had a hunch, nothing would change our feelings: this was a surefire hit. Maybe not Matching “Falling Stars” worldwide, but a solid success—though perhaps that was just our excitement.
“One more thing—let’s check the comments!”
“Let’s do it!”
Until the release, those who’d ranted “What are idols doing in a musical movie?” would be silenced.
“Doki-doki”—Junghyun mimicked a heartbeat as we navigated to the entertainment news portal and searched “NewBlack.”
–“‘Nostalgia’ OST Surprise Twist: NewBlack’s Audience Praise”
–“The Perfect Fusion of Music and Film: ‘Nostalgia’ Breaks Out on Opening Day”
–“‘After watching, I want to hear it again’—When Will the ‘Nostalgia’ OST Release?”
Nearly every top article’s headline featured our name, and all positively.
After the film’s release, reviews flooded rating apps and websites:
Nostalgia, 2015
–[4.5] “Hats off to the director’s passion to tell a lifetime story in 1h40m.”
–[4.5] “Jaw-dropping visuals, tears streaming at the OST.”
–[4.0] “Rupert Dean and Bella Page’s duet alone is a perfect ten.”
–[4.0] “Rupert Dean acts superbly. OST was amazing.”
–[3.5] “Average for me; songs get a five.”
–[4.0] “The biggest twist is NewBlack’s OST participation—‘Thousand Dreams’ still echoes and chokes me up.”
While most praised the acting and OST, mentions of NewBlack rose sharply:
–“The songs were insanely good.”
–“Not a single track was throwaway; the original two are too good.”
–“Best twist: ‘Thousand Dreams’ was composed and sung by NewBlack.”
–“Why did they get flamed so badly?”
–“They only got hate cause they’re popular—unfair once you see the film.”
–“They must’ve all been in on it last week.”
–“No one said it was K-pop, but they assumed and trashed an idol.”
Negative vibes flipped 180°. Even the most critical idol forums raved:
–“Saw it with my folks today—songs were amazing!”
–“Why did the director do kokumbong marketing? I thought this’d be boring, but it’s great.”
–“NewBlack’s song was awesome.”
–“I still don’t know why they hated them.”
–“I want to screenshot and send some to their agency.”
–“I hated seeing their name, but now—.”
–“Not every rookie group hits this big in two years.”
Those who once slammed our OST switched topics, debating chart positions post-release before losing interest. Fans felt a rush of relief and pride seeing the praise. Questions flooded the comments:
–“When will the OST drop? I need ‘Thousand Dreams’!”
–“It won’t hit the charts until US and others release—give it 1–2 weeks.”
–“Noooo.”
–“This is my new life movie. I can get ‘Falling Stars’ on YouTube, but where can I find ‘Thousand Dreams’?”
–“Someone steal NewBlack’s album for me.”
As boards filled with yearning for the unreleased “Thousand Dreams,” others noted:
–“NewBlack looks different now—cool.”
–“I thought ‘did he write it himself?’ but now?’
–“I had cognitive dissonance—like ‘this was the Special Forces?’”
A broadcast writer noticed the shifting tone, tapped the PD on the shoulder:
“Boss!”
Nostalgia’s Chuseok release was a jackpot. With stellar promotion and word-of-mouth, attendance soared toward one million. Director Edwards emailed us: “What should I say to thank Korean audiences for max popularity?”
And then—
“Guys!”
Just as we were busy prepping for an overseas tour, our team leader burst into the studio, beaming.
“An opportunity’s arrived!”
“What kind of opportunity?”
Seok-hwan hyung smiled happily:
“You get to wash away your ‘weird idol’ image.”
“What image?”
“Weird.”
“....”
Though exposed, we brightened as we realized the chance.
“What opportunity?”
