Free Web NovelWhen NewBlack threw petals, the emcee turned her head sharply, her smile twitching.
It was understandable.
“They really can’t throw petals.”
“They’re really generous with them.”
“It’s like salt.”
Like salting kimchi, the members of NewBlack showered their path with flowers.
Soon the five stood beneath the event banner.
Flashes popped as cameras captured NewBlack’s elegant smiles and waves.
“Wow....”
Onlookers uttered awestruck murmurs.
“They’re even more stunning in person.”
“Wow...who is that?”
“Babe, don’t look at me like that after seeing them.”
From a distance I’d laughed, “Oh! NewBlack!” but up close I was taken aback.
I hadn’t expected such visuals.
I’d thought of them as friendly little brothers, but in person they felt far from familiar.
TV really can’t capture everything.
“Hello-everyone!”
The youngest of NewBlack waved with a big-dog grin, briefly warming the crowd—but then his face went neutral, making him seem almost unrecognizable.
“One, two, three.”
In particular, when Uju took the mic, I found myself staring at him, unable to look away.
“Hello. We’re NewBlack!”
“We’re here today as promotional models for this cosmetics launch. Please look after us!”
“Give us a big round of applause!”
With light laughter, the crowd tapped their phones against their wrists to mimic applause. Meanwhile, more and more spectators had gathered.
“Is that NewBlack? NewBlack?” Those who’d stopped to ask started clustering around like a tail.
“Are they doing beauty ads these days?”
“Right? Why now?”
Whispers rippled through the crowd. Until now, NewBlack’s commercials had been for contacts, telecom providers, family restaurants—so a beauty ad felt out of character, piquing everyone’s curiosity.
“How does it feel?” the MC asked, and the member with the cool aura took the mic.
“It feels fresh. I’ve been using this product all along—my stylist always bought it from abroad.”
“And your red-ear video was a hit recently, right?”
“Yes.” ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom
Only then did people’s eyes light up.
“That’s it!” Memories of the video where his reddened ears showed amazing coverage returned to their minds.
Uju took the mic.
“I heard many people showed interest. If you search ‘Ri-hyeok’ now, the top related query is ‘Ri-hyeok foundation.’”
“And second is ‘foundation Ri-hyeok.’”
“Ri-hyeok’s a really shy guy....”
Viju smiled shyly and continued,
“My kid gained confidence after trying this product.”
“That’s right, that’s right.”
As Junghyun nodded in agreement, onlookers laughed—it felt like watching a parent and child.
Ri-hyeok, with a slight blush, shook his head and pinched his thumb and forefinger to show “this little.”
“Yes. I’m a bit shy.”
All five of them shook their heads in unison—no, a bit more open—“a bit.” Shaking again, Ri-hyeok pursed his lips and held the gap at about ten centimeters.
“I tend to blush a lot...but this product really helped.”
Only then did NewBlack nod in relief, breaking into relaxed smiles. The crowd, initially stunned by their in-person looks, was gradually getting used to the familiar NewBlack energy.
After the MC chatted briefly with the members, the demonstration began in earnest.
“Ri-hyeok, please have a seat here.”
“Okay.”
Ri-hyeok, NewBlack’s main vocal, sat gently on the chair at center stage. His face appeared on the big screen—those cool, sharp features slicing through the display.
Then the makeup artist began cleansing.
Swish—swish—
As the makeup wiped away, a few spectators flinched.
“What—are they allowed to do that?”
“Why would the company approve this?”
With so many cameras and watching eyes, this was a bold move. Even if it wasn’t a completely bare face, the post-wipe results would end up online.
I found myself worrying, despite not being a fan.
“Hmm...?”
On screen, people cocked their heads, confused—and then:
“...!”
They blinked at the unexpected sight.
As the makeup came off, Ri-hyeok’s expression gradually changed. His sharp eyes softened. While still keen, the once-rigid lines became gentle.
“Why is his skin so perfect?”
It was porcelain-white and smooth—so flawless you wanted to tap your finger on his cheek. His once-etched facial contours turned like brushwork in an ink painting.
“...!”
The result was a fresh, pure beauty. As the artist tapped away sweat at the ends of Ri-hyeok’s hair, he closed his eyes, then reopened them to look at the artist, eyebrows trembling, lips curving in a subtle smile that drew involuntary gasps.
“Wow....”
The emcee and staff peeked out, watching in wonder. NewBlack’s managers and members exchanged satisfied nods.
“He doesn’t even need makeup.”
“He’s insanely beautiful, really.”
“That’s Dan-chu, right? I can’t get used to it.”
“Hey, why are you looking at me after seeing him? Explain yourself.”
“Uh? I’m turning red.”
Those whispers seemed to reach his ears first, and a blush spread from the tips of his ears down his cheeks. Then—
Pop-pop-pop—
Each time the artist patted his face with a puff, the redness faded.
“Ooooh...!”
Eyes sparkled. A cosmetics launch, yet the gasps felt like a ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) magic show.
“Amazing.”
“I’m buying this today.”
Those who’d suffered from blushes saw the product name etched into their minds. When half his face was done, the members of NewBlack turned, giggling—and the crowd laughed too, seeing the red half and the white half side by side.
“Two-face!”
“Like that count Asura from cartoons...”
“He looks sad—so cute.”
People laughed at how the members gently patted Ri-hyeok’s back. The camaraderie looked good—visually pleasing and heartwarming.
Tap-tap-tap—real-time photos and reviews of NewBlack began flooding social media, messenger chats, and online communities.
That day, posts about NewBlack’s beauty event started popping up on idol forums.
[Idol whose visuals topped four countries’ real-time search today.jpg]
NewBlack’s Ri-hyeok.
ps. Launching that famous foundation.
Alongside talk of NewBlack’s main vocal’s looks, interest in the cosmetics soared.
Philippines. Indonesia.
After touring and promotions in those two countries and returning to Korea, gifts awaited us.
“That cosmetics company’s branch sent them.”
“Oh.”
“They must be doing great with the foundation.”
Ri-hyeok nodded proudly, then spun toward the gifts. We clapped, “Waaa!” and looked at the packages.
“What is it?”
“Hey! Isn’t that...wine?”
“Alcohol? Alcohol?”
A fine-brand luxury wine and a thank-you certificate from the branch manager lay before us. Viju toyed with the wine, disappointed.
“But Uju hyung can’t drink it.”
“No, Viju, even if he skips soju, he can handle a drop of wine.”
“When we drink from wine glasses, hyung will need a dropper...ack!”
As Ri-hyeok jabbed Jiho’s side, Mingi exclaimed,
“They even sent you...alcohol...”
“...alcohol?”
“They knew you’d get sloshed like a drunkard, so they sent you a special gift.”
When Junghyun cocked his head at “alcohol?”, Viju whispered the meaning, and Junghyun nodded.
“What’s the other gift?”
“This.”
Ta-da—a box in a luxury envelope. Inside: a set of grape juices in sturdy glass bottles.
“Oh, glass-bottle juice!”
We accepted the gift joyfully.
“This is perfect. Grandma loves glass bottles—she uses them for sesame oil.”
I was excited to show Mrs. Deok-soon the bottles. Smiling at the lotion and skincare samples the cosmetics company also sent, I thought: They’re really doing well.
This cosmetics event had been planned long ago—since Ri-hyeok’s MC stint on Music Broadcast, when he first gained attention. Multiple meetings led up to today’s launch. A win-win: the company’s product launch succeeded, and NewBlack’s visuals—overlooked lately—got a fresh spotlight.
Above all,
“Hm, sending all this...because I worked hard at that event?” Ri-hyeok rummaged through the gifts with a pout, and we quietly laughed.
“He’s so happy.”
“He’s proud of internet praise.”
Since receiving so many compliments on his looks, he’s been even more diligent with his care. Posting selfies on the official SNS, secretly checking comments under fan-cam videos when we pretend to sleep—he’s grown sweeter these days.
“Ahem~”
As Ri-hyeok prepared to take a selfie by the gift box, Jiho slipped in with a peace sign.
“Ta-da?”
“Ta-da~”
Surprisingly cheerful, Ri-hyeok gave OK. The two snapped a “visual siblings” shot, grinning, and I slipped in with a peace sign.
“Then me too—”
“Don’t photobomb! Get out of this frame!”
“Hyung, you can’t be in it!”
The maknae line teamed up, palm-pushing me out of the shot, and I tumbled offscreen.
“....”
How did I end up like this?
Winter approached. Each chill breeze sent shivers down our backs, and our clothes grew thicker by the day. It was the last two days of October.
“Here are NewBlack, recipients of the Minister of Culture, Sports and Tourism’s Commendation.”
While the host’s voice echoed through the speakers, we stood before a photo wall reading “Korea Popular Culture and Arts Awards.”
“Please look from the left!”
“Yes!”
Flashes popped like hundreds of moth wings. A reporter called,
“Stand at a slight diagonal...!”
Click.
“Now...drop your arms...!”
Click.
“You’ve...dropped them.”
A brief laugh rippled through the press at “dropped them.” We smoothly turned toward the semicircle of cameras, waved, and bowed.
“Thank you!”
As actor Seo No-eul entered the photo zone for the next slot, we moved into the theater. Inside was a small hall with a stage—at Korea’s National Theater in Jung-gu, Seoul—where we’d come to receive the ministerial commendation.
“Hello!” we greeted those arriving ahead of us. Actors, singers, entertainers slated to receive awards smiled in return. Half the faces were familiar, half not, but all had been on TV at least once.
“Is this our line?” I asked.
“I think so,” someone replied.
Behind those receiving presidential awards were the prime minister’s commendations—and behind them, our group. As we sat scanning the room, someone greeted us.
“Hello.”
“Hi!”
It was actor Seo No-eul from our agency. I was happy to see a familiar face since her cameo on Sleep. I remembered how exhausted she’d looked then.
She draped a coat elegantly over her shoulders, sat beside us with a sigh—so she’d had chronic fatigue.
“I heard you were on an overseas tour. Not too tiring?”
“No.”
“You always seem full of energy. What do you eat?”
As we chatted about ginseng’s benefits, TNT’s Han Tae-hyeon and his members burst in, waving cheerfully.
We bowed waist-deeply; they giggled and returned the bow.
“Hello, sunbaenims.”
“Hello, hoobaenims.”
After polite greetings we laughed. The TNT members, seated behind us, turned their heads slowly to look at me.
“Why?”
“Wow.”
Tae-hyeon clapped.
“Our composer’s face literally radiates.”
“Genius composer...!”
“They say he churns out melodies like noodles.”
“Oh, stop it.”
Elders nearby murmured “Genius composer?” making me blush; everyone chuckled.
Tae-hyeon said,
“Congrats on Billboard, hyung.”
“Thank you....” frёewebnoѵēl.com
Blushing, I smiled awkwardly; this time they all turned serious, facing me.
“Hyung, I’m going solo next year.”
“Me too.”
“If you haven’t emptied your trash bin, send me the songs inside.”
Joking “Give me your songs,” they made me laugh. From their talk, I gathered that in year seven they were planning solo or unit activities.
While the others chatted, Tae-hyeon whispered,
“I heard from Director Han Young-joon.”
“Director Han?”
He nodded.
“Heard the planning team got heat for not holding onto such a talented kid.”
“Well, he was still learning then.”
“But it’s kind of sweet revenge now.”
He cupped his hand, whispering, “I’m on your side.” Then loudly, “Give me songs...”
“If you can, you’re first in line.”
He grinned and turned away.
As preparations for the ceremony ramped up and elder artists arrived, the atmosphere grew formal.
“Hello!” we bowed each time someone entered—veterans whose faces belonged in Korean arts history. I confess I felt nervous.
Then I saw one familiar figure.
“Oh my, long time no see.”
Veteran singer Roh Jae-hyun, walking with a cane, greeted us.
“Hello, teacher.”
“You’re all staring—surprised I’m walking instead of in a wheelchair?”
“Yes, you look great.”
We both thumbs-upped—“Awesome!”—and he chuckled heartily.
“See you later.”
He, guided by staff, took the front row.
With the ceremony about to begin, Tae-hyeon whispered,
“Are you performing tonight?”
“A bit later.”
“Get ready—might be awkward.”
We looked puzzled, so he leaned in.
“Because of the elders and age group, idol songs might not get a reaction.”
“I see.”
“It’s a bit stiff—awkward for applause.”
He warned us that in such a solemn setting, singing could feel embarrassing, then beckoned me over as if to share a tip.
“If you can, you’re first on my list.”
When everyone was seated, a VCR played on the screen and the MCs spoke,
“Now presenting the 2015 Popular Culture and Arts Awards—”
After a brief opening, a staff member approached, letting us know it was nearly our turn.
“Fighting!”
I gave a slight bow to the TNT members, who looked sympathetic yet doubtful. Then I headed backstage with my siblings.
“Hyung said the response might be low—prepare yourself.”
“It might be a bit embarrassing.”
“Yeah, their faces were stone-cold during the opening.”
With that mindset, we stepped onto the stage.
—Clap, clap!—
From the moment Nine began, cheerful applause erupted from the audience.
“What is this?”
“Isn’t it supposed to be solemn?”
Exchanging curious glances with my siblings during the choreography, I realized the response was fantastic.
Front row.
Roh Jae-hyun laughed heartily, clapping.
“Oh, this is great. Ha-ha.”
“....”
“Not into it?”
“I...like it, teacher.”
The middle-aged trot singer beside him nodded. As Roh Jae-hyun applauded, those behind him raised their hands too.
Clap, clap—
The applause spread row by row, each beat landing in rhythm.
“....”
TNT’s members, clapping along, felt inexplicably wronged.
