Free Web Novel“An audition?”
“Yes.”
From the other end of the smartphone, Deputy Manager Hong’s laughter came through.
“We’re holding auditions right now to recruit new male trainees.”
“I see.”
“So that’s why you all ran off?”
“Ran off?”
I protested vigorously, but he just chuckled, clearly not believing me.
After ending the call, I exchanged embarrassed glances with my brothers.
“So it really was an audition.”
“...It was an audition.”
I felt guilty, thinking we’d fled, but anyone would be startled in that situation.
The maknae slurped his fish-cake broth and said,
“Well, if you’ve got unknown guys charging at you shouting, you’d be scared too.”
“Exactly. It’s only natural to be terrified.”
We all nodded.
Then, sniffling, I asked the shop owner cooking toast,
“May we have more fish-cake broth?”
“Help yourselves.”
“Thank you!”
Under a small canvas canopy, the street toast stand steamed with tteokbokki and assorted fried snacks. We each sipped steaming fish-cake broth from paper cups, letting out contented sighs, and the owner smiled.
“It sure feels good, though.”
The maknae fiddled with his crumpled cup.
“Now we’ll have junior trainees at the company. Or rather, trainee candidates before debut?”
“So the people waiting now are candidates for trainee candidates?”
“Candidates of candidates of....”
We traced the concept in the air with our fingers until our minds went blank.
“Well, anyway, they’re juniors for now.”
“But like Jiho said, it’s great having trainee juniors under us.”
We each beamed with pride.
“I’m already excited to teach them dance.”
“I want to buy them late-night snacks and, ahem, do my part.”
“I wonder if anyone’s interested in composing? If there are enough, we could run a composition class.”
Watching us excitedly plan, Ri Hyuk shook his head, gulped his broth, and then said coldly,
“Shouldn’t you think about how you’ll actually get into the company before drinking kimchi-broth?”
“Kimchi-broth, not fish-cake broth?”
...
His teasing made him flush. He asked,
“How are we going to get into the company right now?”
...
I recalled stumbling backward screaming in front of the audition candidates just moments ago. I didn’t feel confident striding back in boldly. So I chewed on my toast, thinking hard how to enter the building as naturally as possible.
“Ah!”
At last, a good idea struck.
“This will work.”
In front of Lemon Entertainment’s building.
As time passed, the line grew longer.
“Hoo....”
Every breath sent out frosty puffs. Applicants stamped their feet or rubbed their palms, «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» sniffling against the biting winter wind that seemed sharper in these narrow alleyways.
A tense atmosphere. Today is the third round of auditions. Those who passed the first online video screening and the second in-person audition now face a final audition and camera test to decide who moves on.
‘It’s cold.’
Each applicant had a different interview time, and there was still plenty of waiting, yet most dared not stray far, fearing any unexpected twist. Many compulsively checked their phones to confirm the date.
‘I really want to pass.’
‘God, Buddha, whoever, please let me pass.’
‘I won’t dream of NewBlack debut—I just want even a fraction of their success.’
Applicants gazed up at the blue sky, fervently making their wishes. Some came after failing auditions at the Big Four and searching for openings; others followed rumors that Lemon Ent. was especially good. A few were former trainees released from other agencies. Their stories varied, but the decisive factor was the same:
‘NewBlack.’
The fact that NewBlack belonged to Lemon Ent. drew them here. While some calculated the odds, most had a simple, overwhelming reason:
‘They’re fucking cool.’
As they prepared their audition songs, NewBlack performance videos popped up on their phones. Faces from early teens to late teens mirrored the same expression of yearning. Their desire to become like that had led them to this alley.
“Achoo!”
Of course, in the moment, no one thought of much else but wanting indoor warmth.
‘I hope this line moves soon.’
‘Fuck, it’s freezing. It wasn’t this cold during round two.’
‘As soon as CSAT ended, it turned into winter overnight.’ freēwēbnovel.com
Just then, murmurs rose from the back of the line.
“Wow...!”
“Whoa!”
Applicants huddled shoulders, tucked hands in armpits, and turned to look. Their reactions lifted in unison:
‘It’s NewBlack!’
Five figures strode down the alley, their presence brightening the drab surroundings like models in a padded-jacket ad.
“Hello.”
At Uju’s bright greeting, applicants bowed reflexively—even though they hadn’t passed yet, they clasped their hands.
As over a hundred eyes fixed on them, Uju’s eyes curved in a gentle smile.
“It’s freezing today, isn’t it?”
“Yes!”
“We passed by earlier and saw how cold you all looked. It reminded me of when I auditioned.”
As applicants chattered their teeth in agreement, Junghyun—expressionless, holding a cardboard box—was handed plastic bags by the other members. Canned drinks filled the bags.
“Wow...!”
A chorus of appreciation rose.
“We picked up canned drinks and hand warmers.”
Like a hero trapping thieves in a kids’ movie, the knitted-wool-hat-clad member spoke with a tender smile.
“...We shopped around convenience stores, so stock is limited.”
“Wow!”
Noses reddened like Rudolph’s. Hearing that they had gathered hot drinks on the spot warmed everyone’s hearts, making the alley feel briefly cozy.
Viju continued,
“It’s random, and stock’s low, so some of you might get knotweed drink.”
“Or ssi-hwang tang.”
“And honeyed ginseng tea.”
Laughter broke out at the thought of a random draw.
Soon the members approached each applicant in line.
“Good luck with your audition~”
The maknae, wearing fingerless gloves, offered drinks with shining hands and cheered.
“Don’t chug it all at once. Sip slowly. It’s cold—don’t strain your voice.”
The main vocalist tucked his collar to cover his face as he offered audition advice.
“Okay, it’s time for the draw.”
The rapper rummaged grandly in his box. People laughed as one applicant clasped hands and prayed.
“Please...!”
Thump-thump, thump-thump-thump, thuuun. The hand stopped, and a canned drink emerged.
Junghyun beamed.
“You’ve won honeyed ginseng tea.”
“Nooooo!”
“It’s non-refundable, but you can swap by rock-paper-scissors with the person in front or behind.”
Applicants laughed at Junghyun’s polite service as he moved on. When the main dancer’s cold gaze met Junghyun, his smile instantly softened as he gave a thumbs-up and said, “Enjoy.”
And then:
“You like black tea, right?”
“Eh? How did you know?”
“I just had a feeling.”
Without any hint of preference, the leader seemed to divine each person’s desired drink. It was astonishing and mysterious.
“Good luck with your audition.”
After Uju hurriedly handed an empty bag to Ri Hyuk—who folded it neatly with a swift move—the alley filled with the sounds of hot-pack rustling and cans opening.
“Wow....”
One sip made everyone’s hearts warm. Though nerves remained, the alley seemed a few degrees warmer. The rigid atmosphere softened, and applicants couldn’t help marveling at NewBlack’s considerate gesture.
‘So this is what it means to be a celebrity.’
They radiated friendly yet untouchable auras—likely helped by their looks.
‘They really are like living mannequins.’
Their clear skin, vivid eyes, and lively lips looked sculpted by master craftsmen.
“Ha ha ha!”
Despite feeling like their hardware had the wrong software installed, I shrugged it off as a trick of the mind.
“Thank you!”
Someone’s thanks echoed warmly through the alley. Uju spoke on behalf of the group.
“Take care of your voices, everyone, and good luck with your auditions. Hope to see you inside the company next time.”
“Good luck!”
“Do your best.”
NewBlack waved and slipped inside. Their gait was almost model-like; the leader’s elegant stride led the others. As they swiped their security cards and passed through the open doors, a hush fell, then the long-suppressed exclamations broke out.
“Wow, amazing.”
“Should we have opened our drinks earlier?”
“Should I post this on SNS after I pass? I heard they check SNS during final evaluations.”
Thanks to the softened mood, applicants chatted more freely, like neighbors. Filled with renewed determination, they silently vowed:
‘I must get in.’
At that moment:
Clang!
The doors opened again. A commotion arose as the five dashed out once more, and the applicants panicked.
“Uh, he—hell....”
“Hello!”
Led by Uju’s bright greeting, the other four bolted like a ragtag bunch. Snatches of their conversation drifted back.
‘Bingsu?’
‘I think they said... A something.’
As applicants tilted their heads, the real conversation of NewBlack, sprinting ahead, went like this:
“They ran when they heard us coming!”
“Where’d the A&R team hide again? The bingsu place?”
“Yes. The bingsu-shop owner texted that they’re hiding there. Spying’s so fun—they even sent pictures.”
“Huff, huff. How many friends do you have, Wang Jiho...?”
“They probably thought we couldn’t find them in a bingsu shop.”
“What are you talking about? Winter’s for bingsu!”
They chanted “bingsu bingsu” as they ran, and the applicants nodded in amused agreement. It made them realize that not just anyone could win a chase.
The A&R team capture went smoothly.
“Oh, how did you find us here?”
“Heh heh heh. Where did you think you were running off to, team leader?”
When I gleamed in triumph, the A&R staff trembled.
“I’m the Gogildong in Dooly’s palm.”
“I’d rather be called Hidong.”
At Deputy Manager Seopilgeun’s murmur, the others glared at his tone-deafness.
Viju smiled warmly as he pointed out those seated around the round table.
“Hyung, the producing team’s over there too.”
They all rushed to reply.
“No, we heard the A&R team knew hidden eateries....”
“That’s not true—they asked if there was anywhere to hide first.”
“Actually, they said hidden eateries.”
As internal squabbles broke out, we laughed, then sat and ate bingsu with the A&R and producing teams, lightening the mood. After hearing stories from North and South America,
“Oh, the audition?”
They updated us.
“We originally planned next year, but thanks to your growth, we moved it up.”
“And the new-talent development team was reinstated.” freeweɓnovel.cøm
They’d intended a 2016 audition but advanced it due to our strong cash flow. From now on, they’ll hold one or two auditions each year.
“We’re busy expanding staff—need more trainers to teach trainees.”
“Oh, right.”
“And we have monthly evaluations coming up.”
“Ugh....”
At the mere mention of “monthly evaluations,” we shuddered in trauma as we ate injeolmi bingsu.
“So when will these new trainees debut?”
“Hmm, even if it’s fast....”
The A&R team leader counted off on his fingers and said,
“2019.”
“Eek.”
Four years seemed reasonable, but as former trainees, we knew how long that really felt.
“By the way,” we returned to business, “what about our album proposal?”
“It’s almost ready. We’ll see your song demos and plan accordingly.”
“Are there many proposals?”
“It’s a special album.”
The staff chimed in,
“We have all kinds of unique ideas. But first, we’ll listen to your tracks and go from there.”
“Of course, not everything’s set. You have another award show coming up.”
We nodded. We were busy preparing for the KMA stage in Hong Kong next month. It made sense to plan the album promotion afterward.
“So the song work comes first.”
We asked, “When will the producer and guest instructors arrive?”
“Baeksang-kyo is busy with a year-end dinner show. Others have packed year-end schedules, so they’ll come in short stints.”
“I see.”
“And Ha Seung-ju, who’s producing, has kept his schedule free aside from Music Café recordings.”
The A&R leader looked mischievous, eyes gleaming.
“He said to call him anytime, and he’ll come right away.”
On the second-floor studio.
We greeted in coat attire with cheers as they entered.
“Welcome back, sunbaenim!”
“Hello.”
“...It feels strange seeing you in casual clothes.”
“Right?”
We’d only seen him dressed as a gentleman on Music Café, so his black hoodie with a pink wristwatch felt bizarre. Smiling at his cultural shock, I said,
“Thank you for producing our album.”
“Thank you. When we improvised back then, I couldn’t wait to work with you.”
“I didn’t expect you to actually produce it.”
“I’ve worked on idol albums before, but this is my first time joining one.”
Although a top domestic producer known for hit records, he’d never done an idol album.
“As soon as I heard Gyu-hwan was paying well....”
“...”
“It was an enormous sum.”
“...”
His capitalist delight shone through. We blinked, and he added,
“Just kidding.”
We laughed, but knew half of it was true. Ha Seung-ju commands huge fees and rarely joins projects—but when he does, the results are extraordinary.
“I’ve heard the rough direction from A&R. It’s a winter-themed special album, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s listen to the existing tracks first.”
He sat, and I played a recent composition. He nodded attentively.
“All good?”
“Really?”
“I made a few tweaks, but you haven’t over-worked it.”
“Yes. I wanted producer and team input first.”
He raised his hand.
“Actually, revising the intro might work better—so the buildup to the chorus feels more natural.”
“Uh.”
“Why?”
“I thought the same but hesitated, thinking it was too bold.”
He smiled knowingly.
“Then I’ll tweak that part.”
“Great. I’ll also tinker on my laptop, and we can compare.”
“Yes!”
My brothers blinked at the speed of it.
‘So fast.’
‘I can’t believe how smooth this is.’
Yet I shared their feeling: somehow, this album process was going to be effortless.
Outside the second-floor studio.
A&R staff peeked through the glass, faces dejected.
“This isn’t what we expected.”
“These reactions aren’t what we imagined.”
“Why is it so quick and smooth?”
Surely Uju should be calling for comparisons, but the rapid exchange of ideas between Uju, Ha Seung-ju, and the members was already done.
“When you think about it, Ha Seung-ju handles Uju really well. It’s not just compatibility—it’s like a workflow optimized for this style.”
“...That’s true.”
As they nodded, someone suddenly spoke up.
“Didn’t he work on a jazz album with Uju’s father before?”
“...Huh?”
“Maybe that’s why.”
The A&R staff shone with realization, watching Ha Seung-ju jot down every word Uju said and craft instant alternatives. They felt admiration—but also an odd twinge of sympathy for the journey that brought him here.
