Free Web Novel“Heave... heave.”
“You did great.”
We patted Ri-hyuk’s shoulder as he slumped onto the sofa in the waiting room.
“I really burned myself out... heave...”
Having just finished his duet with senior Cha Woo-hyun, our main vocal guzzled water from Viju’s hand.
We nodded. “You definitely rode that stage hard.”
“Like fuel to the fire.”
“You could practically see your vocal cords blazing. You fought so hard not to be outshone by Woo-hyun sunbaenim.”
Ri-hyuk clicked his tongue. “Seriously, go up there once—everyone. Felt like racing a cheetah for 100 meters.”
“No need to try; we get it.”
“Afterward he told me it was comfortable singing together and nodded peacefully...”
We laughed picturing the solemn ballad singer’s expression, then patted Ri-hyuk again.
“You crushed it. You were amazing.”
“Really? You’re not just saying that?”
“Exactly what Uju said. We were all like ‘Wow!’ back here. Souffle fans loved it, too.”
“Huh huh.”
When the maknae and I flanked him and flailed our arms, Ri-hyuk’s eyes lifted in pleasure. Viju narrowed his eyes from beside him, silently: You two were on your phones, too.
Clearing his throat, Ri-hyuk blushed. We cheered, “You were incredible!” then shifted our gaze to the waiting-room TV.
Cho Yuri Band’s bassist teamed with NYX’s main vocal, Muri, on a rock-bass number.
“Waaaah!”
Though the crowd loved the band, cheers rose louder every time Muri appeared.
Junghyun dipped his hand into a giant popcorn tub. “NYX gets a great reaction, huh?”
“No surprise—they killed it on Masterpiece Season 2.”
“Ooh, good for them.”
We remembered NYX’s first-season finale, when they debuted a year before us yet were so shy they’d come to greet us backstage. We’d never chatted, but as ex-TJ trainees we’d seen them around—and it was nice to see them succeed.
“But,” the maknae said, “there aren’t many girl-group stages this year. Last year felt packed.”
“It’s that season,” I replied.
Every year-end wrap-up calls it the Year of the Boy Group. 2nd-gen top girl groups like Delight are inactive now, and Girls On Top, who debuted in ’11, have slowed, too. Except for Scarlet, the top five girl groups focus on solo or acting. Serenity, BLINK, NYX—who debuted alongside us—are rising, but still only seen as a “girl group to watch.”
A generational shift: agencies are scrambling to fill gaps. This year, with TNT, Teenspirit, and us dominating boy groups, things were more settled—unlike the girl-group front.
“Waaaah!”
We applauded Cho Yuri Band and Muri’s continuing set.
“I’m chaining you to this chain...”
“What? They’re actually chaining themselves?”
“Koala Apocalypse. Apocalypse~”
“Eucalyptus, Junghyun hyung.”
We laughed at folk trio “Lee Ji-hoon and His Pals,” known for their absurd songs—Ji-hoon in a kangaroo hat singing “Yu-calip-to-us” while clapping.
Amid these odd performances, special stages kept popping up. Viju, nibbling Souffle bread like a hamster, said, “Seems 70s and 80s songs modernized are in fashion.”
“Right? That’s the trend.”
“No wonder there are so many special stages—other idol seniors covering old songs, too.”
We’d been slammed busy today by this retro revival. Sipping canned coffee, Manager Mingi looked at us incredulously.
“Hey.”
“What?”
“You started this trend.”
“...?”
We blinked, then realization hit—“Ah!” Stylists giggled.
“So we shot ourselves in the foot again?”
“Seems so.”
“No wonder TNT hyungs glared at us earlier.”
We cracked smiles at being the unwitting culprits of the retro craze.
While trot singer Han Tae-hyun belted out “Wahaha,” Ri-hyuk scrolled the tablet. “Thanks to this, the older crowd’s responding well.”
“Really?”
“My folks at home love it. Not just Souffle fans—other fandoms, too.”
“...?”
December 30.
At home, idol fans watching PBS Year-End Festival experienced something odd.
Usually holiday TV sparks a battle for the remote, but parents—who’d be flipping to fishing or dramas—were glued to the special.
“They still can’t top the original.”
“That’s such an old song—do kids even know it?”
They’d thought the old-song covers would bore everyone, but...
“What’s this?”
We blinked at parents lost in nostalgia. Dad reached for the remote, but tapped volume instead: it went up two notches. Grumbling about original vs. arrangement, they couldn’t look away.
Then...
“Who’s that? They sing well.”
That was our chance to slip into new fans’ awareness.
“Search says he’s Yeon-hu from Teenspirit. Supposedly one of the best singers in K-pop.”
“He looks so gentle.”
“News says he was a child actor in a historical drama once.”
“Oh.”
As they absorbed these names, the Festival moved into Part Two’s later half and cued a VCR introducing the next act.
“Well, that’s... New...”
“It’s NewBlack.”
“...”
Our parents murmured.
“Did you hear? I read online they were abused by the network.”
“Have you ever seen a station apologize? Adults can be so cruel to kids.”
“Tsk. Mean people.”
They knew more than the kids; we all fell quiet.
“Mom and Dad must really know them.”
“Well...” Mom shook her head. “I stumbled on Viju’s cooking recipes on MiTube while looking up new dishes.”
“MiTube?”
“Easy to find cooking tutorials. Viju’s so skilled in the kitchen.”
A quick search revealed “Viju’s Cooking: Hamburg Steak!” with Chef Park Jae-woo praising as Viju spun and salted in place.
“...They both really like them.”
Dad’s playlist of our songs and Mom’s cooking admiration had turned them into fans.
As our five members sang Nostalgia’s “Thousand Dreams” and waved to the crowd, viewers posted:
Soon other idol fans chimed in:
Amid the confusion, Souffle fans defended: “She’s an auntie, and an awesome one!” Yet some mused: Whoa, that hit me. Younger fans became spot-on silent.
The next day.
We heard PBS Festival achieved its highest ratings in six years:
Articles credited Masterpiece’s success and the old-song specials for drawing new viewers to a typically idol-heavy year-end show.
“And a survey named ‘NewBlack’ Idol of the Year among the general public.”
“Heehee.”
“Wahaha!”
We laughed at Ri-hyuk reading that. “Even if it’s just lip service, feels good.”
“Exactly.”
Thinking our influence couldn’t be that big, Manager Mingi said, “It was significant.”
“Huh?”
“He got a call from PBS—saying ratings did shift when you were on.”
“...Really?”
He nodded. “Your segment saw a slight bump, then a big drop after you left.”
“Oh? Why?”
TNT and Teenspirit performed much later, so we wondered why.
“Some viewers thought your stage was the finale.”
We laughed at that unexpected answer—apparently older viewers unfamiliar with idol show conventions turned off the TV after us.
“It’s tragically funny.”
“But hey, it got us good treatment.”
“Right. At TBC’s ’14 year-end festival, we had the shortest slot ever.”
“True.”
Thanks to PBS’s ratings, TBC tweaked their cue sheet: our slot moved to just after midnight on New Year’s, with slightly more airtime. All positive, except...
“They did it again.”
“I missed it: the red gates and blue demon statues.”
We passed TBC’s Sanchon-dong building—where we once filmed Mr. Producer’s opener—its front stage outdoors decked out for the year-end show.
Despite Siberian-cold weather...
“We’re happy. We’re so happy.”
“Outdoor stage isn’t cold. Not cold.”
We’d been chosen again as the main performers for the outdoor stage. TBC splits year-end show between outdoor Sanchon-dong and indoor Ilsan. Expected they'd give us a warm indoor stage after our success, but instead:
“Ta-da! You won the outdoor main performer slot!”
Such was the notice we received. They needed a centerpiece outdoors, and that was us.
As snowflakes drifted, our phones pinged relentlessly:
Tree: “LOL”
Tree: “Ilsan is so sweet”
Hanjo sent a gifticon: “All get coffee”
Yoo-geon: “Can hear it... can hear the sound of frustration”
We burned with indignation at Street Boys teasing about our Ilsan indoor fate. While drafting an angry reply, more messages arrived:
Han Tae-hyun: “LOL”
Han Tae-hyun: “Never thought you’d copy last year’s message again”
Han Tae-hyun: “Outdoor? LOL”
We quietly blocked them and set our status: Blocked at mention of “outdoor.” We blocked Eun-seong, too, who asked “Is outdoor okay?”
Ignoring the trolls, I glanced out. “Junghyun, open the window.”
“Yes.”
Whoosh—
Snow fluttered in like a film scene. A passing young couple saw us, exclaimed, and we waved as they grinned.
“Post your sighting stories!” Jiho called.
“Sure!”
We closed the window, and seeing us shiver, the managers asked, “Cold? Didn’t expect you to hate the outdoor stage so much... want us to bring heaters?”
“No—that’s not why. It’s because of the fans.”
“Oh?”
“We wanted a warm place to meet them this year.”
That stung. Arriving at the outdoor waiting room, we warmed ourselves inside until the snow paused.
“Brr.”
The cold bit to the bone. When we stepped out to rehearse, our hands, faces, and ears outside our parkas felt frozen.
Tap-tap-tap.
Before camera rehearsal, we huddled like penguins around Junghyun.
“NewBlack, rehearsal begins.” fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓
“Yes!”
“Junghyun, breathe more gently for me.”
“Yes.”
Junghyun exhaled like a fog machine—whoosh—and we laughed. After sharpening angles, we waved to fans watching before heading back in.
Until our midnight stage, we had personal «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» time. Each opened a bag.
“Loosen your hands.”
Rubbing hand warmers, we unrolled a stack of printed letters: winners of ticket-lottery entries for our upcoming small-venue tour instead of music shows when we comeback in January. Those fans didn’t know yet, but we hoped they’d be thrilled.
“Wow—I had no idea all these places in Seoul are so far.”
“That’s why we’re doing a traveling service.”
We’d visit Jeonju, Gunsan, and other cities, meet Souffle fans, taste local specialties by day and hold fan meets by night—a perfect schedule.
Junghyun read a letter:
“Meeting oppas changed my winter.”
“Oh.”
“Eating Souffle bread made me gain 3 kg. Thanks to the fat friends on my belly, I’ll stay warm this winter.”
“...That’s our fault.”
Viju nodded. “We should read some of these during the shows as events.”
“Yeah—and meet this fan to apologize in person.”
Discussing these, we began selecting letters for the tour events.
The final of 2015. As the year ended, our comeback approached.
11:55 PM.
Amid the audience’s heated excitement before the New Year, we stepped on stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen, 2016—the Year of the Monkey—approaches!”
“To welcome the New Year bell-ringing at Imjingak, we’ve gathered many stars!”
Our breath showed in white clouds as we shivered.
Brr.
We envied Scarlet’s members in fur coats. Earlier, Jiho joked they looked like a manga character and got playfully hit—yet it was true. In our suits, we just shook in the cold.
“Let’s do a brief interview.”
Daydream’s Joon approached with a mic.
“Wow!”
“Yes—wow!”
“NewBlack!”
“Yes, NewBlack!”
We greeted politely, then cheered, “Wow!” as cameras rolled. The outdoor crowd roared; we flashed peace signs and waves.
“You’ve been busy this year—from variety to commercials, everyone says NewBlack took over!”
Asked for our thoughts, I grabbed the mic:
“2015 was a year we received so much love. So many unbelievable things happened.”
“Absolutely.”
“It was a year full of happiness for us.”
“Absolutely.”
Our little brothers, voices muffled by cold, echoed “Absolutely” like faithful acolytes—making fellow artists laugh. The maknae jumped in: “Souffle!”
“Waaaah!”
“Being with you all this year was perfect! Happy New Year!”
We waved. The maknae beamed, prideful after practicing “perfect” all night.
After interviewing 1992-born singers, it was time for the countdown.
“It’s 59 minutes, 50 seconds! Let’s begin the ten-second countdown!”
“Ten!”
Anticipation lit faces. Hearts pounded.
“Five!”
We joined the countdown. The broadcast switched to Imjingak’s screen. Viju whispered, “Let’s make a wish—wish.”
“Two!”
“One!”
DONG-DONG-DONG—
The deep bell tolled over fireworks pop! pop! above. We linked arms and laughed.
“It’s finally 2016!”
The MC cheered. Junghyun murmured, “Did you make a wish?”
“No.”
“I’ve already gotten all my wishes.”
“Stop lying—you missed the timing, didn’t you?”
“Yes...”
We gazed dreamily at the fireworks filling the night sky, and our brothers laughed.
