Free Web NovelWhile the brilliant fireworks painted the sky,
“Happy New Year’s blessings to you all!”
“Happy New Year~!”
the performers stepping down from the stage greeted one another with laughter and New Year greetings. Even usually unflappable Junghyun’s eyes shone with excitement, reminding us that the New Year truly feels new.
“We’re off to eat meat~!”
“Meat!”
A booming shout drew our heads around to see the Scarlet members raising fists to the sky, chanting “meat” like a flock of elated flamingos in their lavish fur coats. When Daisy’s cheeks jiggled like plump rice cakes, Jiho beamed at her.
“You look like flamingos heading for a barbecue, nuna.”
“...Hey! Oh, thanks, Ri-hyuk.”
Ri-hyuk rapped the maknae lightly on the back, and soon everyone was giggling. Leader Ara high-fived us with a radiant smile.
“You all killed it on stage! Wishing everyone a wonderful New Year!”
“Nuna, enjoy your meat in the New Year too.”
As I said that, Ara let out a peal of laughter. Yeon-bom raised a finger and shouted,
“Go—!”
“Meat!”
While we raised our hands in response, main dancer Rina quietly posed a question to everyone.
“Meat?”
“The best!”
“Marbling?”
“Love it, love it!”
“Let’s go. To the barbecue house.”
Scarlet cheered and departed in high spirits, harmonizing “Love the marbling!” as we waved them off.
Then a sudden hush descended—like that silent moment when you rush back to class after forgetting your supplies.
“...”
Ri-hyuk groaned and shook his head.
“Seriously, isn’t this nonstop chaos?”
“Being around those hyungs makes me feel like I’m on my best behavior—watch how they harmonize and sing the Meat Song.”
“But don’t we have just as much fun together?”
Junghyun’s remark made us shake our heads.
“Come on. We’re not that over the top.”
“Ahem!”
“Compared to Scarlet, we’re paragons of calm...”
“Ahem!”
“If you’ve got something to say, say it—hyungs.”
Our managers cleared their throats uneasily. When we gave them pointed looks, Mingi hyung widened his eyes as if preparing to issue an edict.
“You say it, Wonseok.”
He passed the buck to our junior. Wonseok scratched his cheek and stared into space.
“It’s not that we’re calmer—just... similar.”
“Hear that?”
“You’re cowardly, Mingi hyung.”
While Mingi hyung laughed shamelessly, freed from the barbecue frenzy, we loosened our bodies. As another group’s pre-recorded segment played from Ilsan, the MC on the Sanchon-dong outdoor stage ran a New Year’s event.
“Phew...”
We stretched our chilled limbs. Viju extended his legs like a crane, exhaling a long plume of breath as he waved his hands.
“What are you doing?”
“Oh.”
“I’m just self-conscious—my breath fogs up so much.”
“Fog up? Really?”
“It covers my face for a moment, hyung.”
We realized—even if not as pronounced as Ri-hyuk’s—each of us possessed lungs of steel, likely honed by nonstop vocal training for Masterpiece.
“Anyway, the lights will wash it out. I was thinking, why not use the breath effect in choreography?”
Our main dancer hummed with excitement.
“In ‘Nine,’ when that line hits, the breath goes ‘wheeee’—if I change my hand direction like this...”
Whooosh!
A sudden gust scattered his breath.
“Oh no! Not like that!”
He stared at the sky in dismay—was he protesting the Siberian high-pressure system? After a few more tries, his shoulders slumped. We patted him.
“Give it up.”
“Just a few more tries?”
Stubborn, he attempted again. Junghyun interjected,
“If you’re worried about breath, just don’t breathe.”
“Huh!” ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com
“Hold your breath for your part.”
“Oh? That actually works? Are you okay, Junghyun?”
Even the maknae piped up in surprise. While we wondered how to correct this, we spotted Ri-hyuk muttering beside us.
“What are you doing?”
“I was thinking who’s at fault if this backfires legally—the one who said it, or the one who believed it.”
“That’s a tough question.”
Although hard to answer, one thing was clear—I smiled at my bickering brothers.
“...Our group really knows how to kick off the New Year.”
“Don’t cut and run—you’re the boss here.”
“Minions should stay silent.”
“...”
“Aiyo. Managing a group is hard.”
Whatever else, by New Year’s Day we were the same happy chaos-makers. Even Ri-hyuk joined the breath debate before exhaling toward the night sky.
“Whoo—”
A milky plume burst out. Mirroring Viju, I adjusted my hand gesture along the wind.
“It works.”
Though Viju’s dance is stronger than mine, I could feel the refined movement. After a few more tests, the MC’s voice crackled over the speakers.
“Now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for!”
“Waaaah!”
As the stand-by cue dropped, the MC energized the crowd.
“From last year—2015 captured the public with its hit songs by this five-member boy group. You all know who it is, right?”
“Yeeess!”
“Now, to open 2016’s celebrations, let’s welcome their dazzling performance—right now!”
It struck me: 2015 really is last year. Smiling, half-convinced it’s already 2016, we prepared to step on stage.
“NewBlack!”
We emerged. The roar we couldn’t quite hear while backstage washed over us like a wave, cutting through scaffold and speakers.
“Waaaaaah!”
Cameras surged forward. As the broadcast cameras shifted from yellow to red lights on the outdoor stage, we formed the “Wind Flower” formation.
“Waaaaaah!”
The intro for “Wind Flower” rang out—our first stage of 2016.
Souffle fans in the venue erupted.
“It’s here!”
The cold that had made us shiver vanished at once. As their lightsticks swayed passionately, we glimpsed barely-there smiles tug at our members’ lips.
“Waaaaaah!”
“Wind Flower” began with its gentle prelude. Other idol fans around us hummed along as Souffle fans chanted the cheers. Every precise hand flick drew their gazes; each graceful line of the choreography was accompanied by the song’s addictive melody.
“Wow...”
While Souffle fans cheered, other fandoms frowned, puzzled.
“Why can’t I look away?”
Even among idol groups known for their stage prowess, one member stood out tonight: our leader Uju. After “Wind Flower,” when the intense “Nine” routine kicked in, his presence drew every eye.
“Feels hypnotic.”
It was hard to pinpoint why—maybe his proud nose, or the soft exhalations dancing in the colored lights, or how he and the environment seemed to move as one. Even when other members took brief solos to the side, our eyes followed him.
As Souffle fans howled in delight, rival fans wondered, “What’s going on?” Then NewBlack launched into the dance break.
Fans at home, watching on TV, leapt up at the sudden aerial camera shot, shouting in awe.
Above us, the spotlight caught misty breath swirling like colored smoke. The phenomenon continued throughout “Nine.”
When the “Nine” set finished—
“Waaaaaah!”
“Everyone! Best wishes for the New Year!”
Our maknae beamed and called out the greeting. The others, shaking off sweat, waved to the audience. Uju flashed a playful peace sign beside his eye.
“...Was I imagining it?”
I wondered if it was simply his striking features at work. Then the familiar intro to “Thousand Dreams” played—still a Billboard staple. Our leader grabbed the mic with a grin.
“Beyond a thousand dreams, ten thousand dreams—may all your wishes come true this New Year.”
“Waaaaaah!”
“Shall we sing it?”
Souffle fans, chanting along like a chorus, gently mouthed the English lyrics.
At the close of the final song, the broadcast cut to Ilsan.
“Happy New Year.”
A rapper with a solemn presence blew a nonchalant air kiss, then ushered his main dancer down. Our leader and maknae blew kisses, chanting “Wealth on the inhale, health on the exhale” in unison before leaving the stage. Finally, Ri-hyuk lingered, awkwardly folded hands in a prayer gesture, blew a kiss, and dashed off.
“Absolutely incredible...”
Souffle fans who witnessed those unseen moments beamed with satisfaction.
After TBC’s year-end show ended, fans eagerly tapped out their impressions.
As fellow idol fans reacted—
Soon fan accounts posted previews and fancams, and on the idol community’s front page was someone’s shot of Uju:
[“Last night’s TBC year-end epic: New Uju”]
A photo bathed in blue light, his breath fanning around his face like an aura, capturing his chin raised and hand on cheek—praised by ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) all. Best of all was the fancam.
Indeed, our members watched the fancam, smiling with pride.
“Wow...”
Viju tapped his finger and grinned at the screen.
“Wow.”
While others marveled at how well the wind cooperated, he noticed Uju’s subtle variations in movement—improvisations, not preplanned. Viju, who understood the choreography inside out, whispered in awe:
“He was great already, but when did Uju hyung get even better?”
A quiet flame of competition sparked in him—he’d double his practice next time.
“But for now...”
Uju nodded.
“Save it.”
With the fancam and fan kudos screenshotted, Viju beamed at his phone.
Finally, 2016 was here. Entertainment pages were abuzz with celebrity coupling rumors—fitting for a Year of the Monkey. The holiday glow remained.
Thanks to TBC’s strong ratings at their year-end festival yesterday, many articles poked fun at HBS. No doubt they’re furious. PBS and TBC, comparing ratings to HBS, must have made their own conclusions. Other cable networks and sponsors surely noted:
“If NewBlack’s on, you draw general viewers.”
In other words, they turn a profit. If other top groups are like fine-dining steak for niche fans, we’re the hearty donkatsu or spicy pork rice bowl that brings in the crowds. After the year-end marathon, our position was firmly cemented.
Reflecting that, major companies who’d hesitated began courting us. On New Year’s Day, our manager shared good news:
“Your duty-free ad is confirmed—they’ll shoot soon.”
“Waaaah!”
“Even beyond Korea, you have strong awareness in China and Japan. If anything, Japan’s bigger.”
“Right? Why are we more popular in Japan?”
“China can’t access MiTube.”
“Oh.”
A simple, convincing explanation. Nodding, we touched our cheeks in delight.
“A duty-free ad—that’s major.”
We’d filmed telecom ads as trendy stars, but never a duty-free spot, reserved for top celebs to entice tourists. Being the second idol after TNT booked for such a campaign in the 2010s felt incredible.
“We’ll review other offers and update you.”
“Got it.”
“This year your schedule will ease up—your busiest time has passed.”
“Waaaah!”
After the frantic schedule that had us returning to the dorm at 3 AM and leaving again at 5 AM, relief flooded through us.
“Wow. We’re alive.”
We high-fived.
“You all worked so hard.”
As Seok-hwan hyung spoke, we chimed in.
“By the way, about your special album—you planned a live comeback showcase next Monday, right?”
“We did.”
“We’ve changed the schedule—got a better offer.”
“...?”
“K-Net wants to broadcast your showcase.”
We blinked at the sudden news.
K-Net—the major cable network known for the most idol content. We’d had a rough patch with them, but lately things improved: we performed on their joint Japan concert, appeared on their idol variety show. Still...
“I never thought K-Net would do our comeback showcase.”
“Me neither.”
We weren’t exactly best buds for a live broadcast showcase, so it felt surreal. Producer Ha Seung-ju, overhearing us, adjusted his glasses.
“They sniff out money opportunities like bloodhounds—they’ve been itching to book you.”
“They said they’ll deck out our music-show stages after the showcase, too.”
“Why not? Everyone’s buzzing about your album.”
Gloved, he smiled.
“Feels pressure, doesn’t it?”
“Totally.”
“Let’s enjoy it now that it’s happening.”
“Got it.”
With that, our manager and brothers donned gloves and I asked,
“All set?”
“All set.”
“Let’s go—promote the album.”
We stepped outside for the promotional event, greeted by eager fans and reporters’ cameras snapping away. The maknae waved from under his gloves.
“Thanks for waiting!”
“Yes!”
“Just a bit longer, please!”
Bathed in the crowd’s anticipation, we headed toward the grilling station and the bread-baking machine. Now that we’d decided to enjoy ourselves, spirits were high. Today’s event—a winter food festival hosted by producer and artist—would warm everyone’s hearts on this freezing winter’s day.
