Free Web NovelWhen they finished the “Nine” performance with their final pose,
“Waaaah!”
the soufflés’ cheers echoed from the very back row, mixed with applause.
Clap-clap-clap—
A resonant applause they’d never heard at the earlier congratulatory stages. Celebrities clapped as if competing in a nationwide applause contest—around 128 bpm.
“...?”
Even after returning backstage, they were dazed. The maknae, flicking sweat from his hair, asked,
“You said Senior Tae-hyun warned us there’d be no reaction, to brace ourselves, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I did...”
He’d said they were so embarrassed years ago that, even at their peak in Korea and across Asia, the response had been underwhelming.
But what was this reaction?
Just as they wondered what the difference was,
“...?”
they reentered the theater and saw the veteran singer giving them a proud thumbs-up from the audience—as if looking at his own grandsons. Beside him, others nodded along. In that moment,
“Oh.”
They instantly understood.
“It was him.”
“The power of seniority...”
“It’s like when our CEO applauds and the A&R team follows suit.”
They’d felt it at the Great Songmakers Gala too, but this reaffirmed the high status of Teacher Roh Jae-hyun in the music world. Watching Senior Baek Sang-gyo, a trot legend, beside him struggle to keep pace made them laugh.
Of course. Though retired for health reasons now, they’d heard that if Teacher Roh held a concert, audiences would swarm like clouds.
“Thank you, Teacher.”
They bowed to the singer, who smiled as though charmed, and exchanged proud smiles with each other. This was the taste of networking.
And then—
“....”
returning to their seats, they found the TNT members looking at them with unjustified, almost accusatory expressions. A smile crept onto Uju’s face. While the next congratulatory stage was being set up, he leaned into Tae-hyun’s ear and whispered,
“You said the celebratory stage would be embarrassing.”
“...”
“Oh dear. Our Tae-hyun was really embarrassed back then, huh?”
Teasing him gently made Tae-hyun’s shoulder tremble. He turned to Uju and covered his quivering smile with his hand.
“...The Prime Minister’s Commendation doesn’t come with such a congratulatory stage.”
Uju, suppressing his laughter, shot him a “we’ll see about that” look.
Other congratulatory performances followed. A trendy pansori-fusion act, then comedian Seo Ji-hyung and colleagues performing slapstick on the floor. Afterwards, the male and female MCs took the mic.
“This was the year 2015—a hot year for Korea and Hallyu.”
“Let’s first enjoy a VCR covering today’s esteemed awardees.”
As they applauded, the VCR played: veteran actor ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) Shin In-sang’s family-drama performance, then scenes from dramas, concerts—shots of people from every field flashed by.
“Waaaah!”
Footage of TNT’s overseas tour, a Chinese interview—an uproar of cheers. The theater shook with noise. Next to him, Senior Seo No-eul gasped and massaged her throat in surprise.
As the eight-member group in front shrugged their shoulders,
“Hyung.”
Viju whispered,
“They’re about to show us now.”
The order ran: the Cultural Merit Medal, Presidential Commendation, Prime Minister’s Commendation, then the Minister’s Commendation—each in seniority order. Finally, their turn.
[2015: NewBlack, who contributed to spreading Hallyu through hit songs, variety activities, and SNS!]
From behind, the soufflés inhaled like they were about to shout, then roared,
“Waaaah!”
Their key activities played: first, the chase scene in Joseon-era constable costumes—why was that shown? What was that? Junghyun, dressed as a traveling peddler, kicked off with straw sandals—pat-pat-pat!—and ran away.
“Ahhhh...”
Their grand opening closed with a limp “Ahhh,” drawing laughter. On the live-stream Y-app screen beside the main display, actors covered their mouths in amusement. Next to Uju, eight idols in the crowd wriggled in real time, laughing uproariously. On screen, Tae-hyun laughed heartily, looking more thrilled than anyone.
Fortunately, the “History Exploration Team” clip was brief—just high impact. Though the “Nine” and “Windflower” scenes got more screen time, it seemed people would remember the “History Exploration Team” more.
“....”
To debut like this before living legends of Korean pop culture. The siblings exchanged pitiful glances and huddled, then, seeing the camera turn to them, smiled as if nothing had happened.
“Phew.”
“Pfft.”
They were only miffed by the eight heads giggling in the front row. After the VCR ended and applause subsided, the solemn ceremony resumed.
“NewBlack—details as mentioned above.”
The Minister’s Commendation recipients came on stage as a group, received their certificates and one flower each. With only about thirty seconds for remarks, NewBlack thanked them briefly. Then TNT and other Prime Minister’s Commendation winners collected their awards. Time flowed swiftly.
“It took a long time to get here. And of all things, my name’s Rookie Award, so people always ask, ‘When will you win the Rookie Award?’...”
Laughter rippled through the audience. With the witty closing remarks by the veteran actor who’d received the Cultural Merit Medal, the ceremony concluded.
As people departed, they rushed to Teacher Roh Jae-hyun.
“Thank you so much today, Teacher Roh.”
“Ehhem, what did I do...”
They spoke in hushed voices to the singer, smiling coyly with his cane.
“Thanks to you, we learned the greatness of networking.”
“Hmm hmm...”
“We truly respect you.”
“We love you~”
Their maknae held up his index finger in an aegyo “boop,” making Teacher Roh laugh heartily. They took photos and shared updates.
“Oh dear, look at my mind. This isn’t the time—let me introduce you.”
“Oh, you don’t have to...”
“Come here. These are all my proteges.”
Senior Baek Sang-gyo, nearby, laughed, “Proteges?”
Teacher Roh energetically introduced them to surrounding singers.
“Hello, Teacher Baek Sang-gyo. I’m a huge fan.”
“Am I?”
The trot singer chuckled.
“My granddaughter’s a big fan. Whenever you’re on TV, she sits there and snacks away.”
“Oh, how cute...”
“She’s twenty-one this year.”
“Is that so?”
As they traded warm banter, Junghyun asked,
“My parents are fans—could I get your autograph?”
“Oh, certainly.”
“And could it be ‘To lovely Deok-soon’?”
“I’ll record a video for you.”
They were touched by the message, “To beloved Kim Deok-soon. You raised a wonderful grandson.” They also discussed music.
“I’m a real fan. At the Songmakers Gala, I noticed you drew motifs from your album for several pieces.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, even in the ‘Deok-soon’ arrangement.”
The more Uju spoke, the more delight lit Teacher Roh’s eyes. Perhaps for that reason, he said,
“When you work on your next album, if you have time...”
“Oh—you kids are those composers from Music Café.” He cleared his throat.
“It’s Music Café these days, Sang-gyo.”
“Really?”
“It’s understandable if you don’t know; I’m not used to interacting with young people this way...”
The middle-aged trot singer chuckled and said,
“Contact me. I’ll give you my number.”
“Thank you.”
Watching him delighted at the chance to collaborate with young artists, Teacher Roh smiled warmly. Then he whispered,
“If there’s anyone you need here, point them out. I’ll pull them for you.”
“Thank you, Teacher.”
Uju whispered back,
“Then let’s start with him...”
With a beaming smile, Teacher Roh introduced them to various famous singers—just as long as it wasn’t himself. Pleasant conversations followed.
“Collab? Oh, great.”
“I’ve never worked with idols. Do you need me? It’d be great, though...”
“Definitely do it. Definitely.”
Everyone seemed sincere. Some even asked,
“Are you serious?”
“Of course.”
They smiled brightly, listing names of those they’d promised to work with some day. It was a precious time—a chance to expand their network not only with famous singers Teacher Roh recommended but also with actors and rare artistic figures. As they greeted people from all walks of life and prepared to move to their next schedule,
“Hand me your certificate. I want a commemorative photo.”
“I want to hold my flower in the photo.”
They exited the theater with their awards in hand when someone tapped Uju on the shoulder.
“Hmm?”
“It’s me.”
Turning around, he saw Gu Sun-woong smiling awkwardly.
“Got a minute?”
“I do, but I heard you’re busy. Didn’t you go?”
“Most of my schedules now are personal. Besides mixing-tape work, I’m free.”
“Oh.”
The TNT leader held out a small box to Uju.
“...What’s this?”
“A gift we bought with our own money.”
Uju took it gingerly; Sun-woong nodded as if to say, “Open it.”
“Wow...”
Inside was a wristwatch. As Uju stared at its design, he went dreamy. Sun-woong smiled proudly.
“You like it?”
“I’ll use it well.”
“I thought you would.”
Holding the box, Uju asked,
“It’s beautiful. But why give this to me?”
“Hmm.”
Sun-woong scratched the back of his head.
“I don’t have the gift of words, so I don’t know how to say this—consider it a congratulations?”
“...?”
“Back when we were trainees, we talked about standing together when we won big awards. Things changed a bit, but...”
Uju understood.
“And, well, you helped us as trainees...something something—I forgot how we coached me to say it. Just accept it.”
“Why the sudden shift?”
“I forgot.”
Uju smiled and nodded at his congratulator.
“Thanks, hyung.”
“Seung-je said congrats too.”
“Oh. We can talk next time.”
“He’s picky, though; still apologizes whenever your name comes up.”
“No need to apologize...”
It hadn’t been Sun-woong’s idea; he’d joined after Uju got cut, maybe that made him nervous. He’d always been kind, and still was.
“Anyway, we weren’t that close back then, but I’m glad—this is nice.”
“Yeah, I’m glad we’re here too.”
“Nice.”
He smiled warmly and said,
“Uju.”
“Yes?”
“And one more thing...”
Sun-woong hesitated, and Uju narrowed his eyes slightly.
“Hyung.”
“Yes?”
“You’re the seventh.”
“...”
He asked in disbelief,
“Was I that late?”
“Yes. Everyone else came first asking for songs.”
“Damn, I should’ve told you sooner...!”
Seeing him pout, Uju laughed, high-fived, and waved.
“See you at the Mango Awards next month.”
“...Sure.”
As they parted, the siblings peeked around the door like meerkats.
“What is it? What’d he give you?”
“TNT hyungs gave him a gift?”
“Yeah.”
Uju opened the box for his curious siblings.
“Ta-da.”
“....”
“I’m going to wear this from now on.”
At that moment, the siblings’ faces drained of color.
[Who gave him that, f*ck]
(next schedule after the awards ceremony—Uju wearing a plastic watch covered in pink flowers, grinning)
Who is it...this is unforgivable
“Uju.”
“Yes....”
“You’re reading these fan reactions, right?”
Stylist Director Kim held up the watch to Uju with a gentle smile as he scrolled through the tablet.
“Yes....”
“So this can’t be official schedule attire. Only for unofficial events.”
“It’s really pretty, though, isn’t it?”
“...”
“Broadening your mind—maybe it can look good.”
He tried his most pitiful expression—but it didn’t work. Turning to other staff in the lounge, they all unanimously drew an X. Jiho, exasperated just by looking at it, hit his chest.
“I’ll take it off.”
When Uju unclasped the watch, Jiho—finally relieved—mimicked the reaction shot from the ad. They agreed he could pocket it and only use it to check the time.
“Let’s go, everyone—rehearsal.”
“Yes!”
9 AM.
Today’s event was the K-Pop Festival at Changwon Sports Complex, featuring Korean K-Pop acts and international cover-dance finalists.
“Oh, One Hit members might be here.”
“Hope they practiced well.”
The Malaysian crew “One Hit,” whom they’d taught the “Masquerade” choreography to, were slated to appear. Walking toward the chilly outdoor venue, they met the approaching beauties.
“It’s so freezing.” They shivered.
“Annyeonghaseyo.”
“Hello.”
“The stage up there is ice-cold and slippery.”
They thanked them. Then,
“Oh, later MC well...hmm?”
Yeon-hu looked at Uju’s pink watch.
“What’s that weird watch? Found it on the ground?”
“TNT gave it to me.”
“It’s so cool.” He gave a thumbs-up.
Yeon-hu’s forced grin—“Almost vomited...”—had them all laughing. As the TeenSpirit members jeered at him and walked off,
“....”
Wonseok smirked as Uju handed him the watch, and the siblings giggled. Ignoring the laughter, they climbed the stage. Checking the platform’s layout and sightlines,
“Kyaaaah!”
About twenty foreign fans at the stage’s front gave pterosaur-like cheers.
“NewBlack! Wow, it’s really NewBlack!”
“Wow...!”
“They’re looking here! They’re looking at us!”
They were cover teams in today’s contest—fans from Southeast Asia, Europe, South America, Africa. NewBlack waved at the international K-Pop fans.
“Hi!”
“Where are you from?”
Junghyun waved solemnly, and some wept tears of joy. During the dry rehearsal, they passionately mouthed the “Nine” lyrics. Afterwards, when Uju stepped down briefly, chaos erupted.
“Kyahaaa!”
He’d tried to promote to the overseas fans—and it worked. Chanting “Nine, Nine, Nine,” the African team nearly break-danced. A PBS documentary crew filmed the process—the same doc team that’d covered Uju’s hero-rescue episode. He bowed to the camera directors, and they smiled in recognition.
Meanwhile, their main dancer scanned the crowd.
“Has anyone seen One Hit?”
“One Hit?”
“I heard they’re in today’s contest...”
“They must be rehearsing right now,” someone ventured.
Even as everyone else watched rehearsals below, one team was separately practicing. Uju whispered,
“But you know what? Since earlier,”
“Hmm?”
“Don’t these people all unconsciously step away from Viju?”
“Hmm...?”
Hearing that, they realized it was true. “Is traditional dance fun?” Each time Viju stepped forward, the foreign fans stepped back, as if climbing stairs. No sign of the Malaysia team. They seemed inexplicably afraid of Viju, and they could only wonder why.
Evening.
With a dazzling laser show, the K-Pop Festival officially opened.
“Welcome to the 2015 Changwon K-Pop Festival!” ƒreewebɳovel.com
Cheer roared. Announcer Baek Sang-joong was the main MC. La Vie en Rose’s Baek Yu-jin and Uju were today’s co-hosts.
“Hello, I’m Baek Yu-jin of La Vie en Rose.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Uju of NewBlack.”
At the mention of his name, the stadium decibels spiked. After an English welcome and event introduction,
“Now, our opening stage with participants from 20 countries!”
“Let’s meet them now!”
The opening VCR played and the MC lights dimmed. All three mics went off. Baek Sang-joong checked his cue cards and asked,
“I heard some cover team you taught dance to is in today’s lineup?”
“Yes.”
International cover dance teams took the stage one by one.
“Really? Which team?”
“The Malaysia team. You’ll see—they have the warmest vibe...”
“There they are.”
Like spotlighting protagonists, the final nation’s team appeared on a lift: Malaysia’s One Hit.
“That’s the ‘warm’ team?”
“...”
They’d all been indifferent until recently. Seeing the four-member crew ascend with fierce determination—as if saying, “We have to win”—left them speechless. They felt as though they’d created something wrong.
