Free Web NovelThe move proceeded quickly.
There wasn’t much to pack besides clothes and shoes—almost 99 percent of our belongings.
“Rihyuk hyung, where should I put this box?”
“Put that in the inner room!”
“Rihyuk, how do you want the hangers arranged?”
“Hold on! Let me check the bathroom supplies first!”
Thanks to our cleaning fanatic’s directives, we finished unpacking in no time. If the rest of us had done it alone, it would’ve taken all day. He stalked around with the floor plan covered in notes like a director, grinning smugly.
“What would you have done without me? You four would’ve been grunting away like idiots.”
“We’re not that stupid...”
Just then:
“Yongcha!”
“Yeong!”
“Aah! Cha!”
We watched a duo lugging a bar loaded with heavy plates across the gym. Junghyun hummed, and Jiho’s face turned red from the effort. I called to Junghyun as he passed.
“Junghyun.”
“Yes, hyung?”
“Why are you carrying it with plates on? It’s heavy.”
“Oh.”
He answered with an expression that said it was obvious.
“If we carry it like this, we can do it in one trip—no back and forth.”
“...”
“Rihyuk, see? Efficient, right?”
Rihyuk nodded and pretended to applaud.
“I’m honestly impressed.”
“Ha ha.”
Junghyun laughed and, holding the bar with Jiho on either side, marched on... until
Thunk!
Jiho’s backside hit the wall. Our maknae, stuck with the long bar, kept bumping into everything.
“Ouch!”
“Jiho? You okay? Did that hurt?”
Junghyun froze, panicking at the accident. As we watched, speechless, Rihyuk glanced at me with “I’m not the idiot, right?” in his eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
I decided to apologize honestly.
“I overestimated them.”
“It’s fine now that you know. Now that you’ve realized your own incompetence, take that box to the bathroom.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll check in five minutes, so do it right. And don’t send Grandma a selfie of you working.”
“Yesss...”
He did exactly as told. I hated admitting it, but whenever Rihyuk organized things, it was done in a flash. If there were a university department for cleaning, he’d be top of his class.
Thanks to our main vocalist running around like that, we finished unpacking the first day. Then we held a housewarming ceremony with a candlelit cake.
“We congratulate the move~ We congratulate the move~”
“Our beloved Soufflé~”
“We’ve moved in~”
We draped our oversized Soufflé concert cushion in a Santa hat and sang our celebratory song. We called the CEO to thank him.
“CEO, thank you so much. We’ll live happily and long in this house.”
-That’s right. Hard times lie ahead, but husband and wife... no, that’s not it.
“I’m sorry, CEO. We said something that could be misunderstood.”
We laughed with the flustered CEO as he gave a mock wedding toast. Then we showed our families the new dorm via video call. They loved it. I waved along with Viju’s family, who were happily waving back.
After the call, I asked Viju,
“It seems different from before. Did you move recently?”
“Yes. They also signed a new officetel for me. Our family home...”
She showed me pictures.
“We couldn’t go far because of Minjun’s school, so we got a place nearby. It’s really nice.”
“When you said you’d move us, what did your dad say?”
“He cried a lot.”
I remembered he’d been a researcher before starting a business that failed in hard times, and Minjun got sick soon after. They’d lived in the same house for nearly thirty years, so I was glad things turned out well.
Viju asked,
“Hyung, what about Grandma’s house...”
“She’s not moving.”
“Huh? Why not?”
“She said she’d feel too sorry to her daughter if she moved from her current home.”
“Oh...”
“And what if she can’t find her way back?”
We’d tried persuading her many times, but to no avail. Viju nodded and then asked cautiously,
“But hyung.”
“Yes?” freёwebnoѵel.com
“Does that mean if she moves she won’t find her way back?”
Her serious look made me laugh.
“I don’t know. She said so, so that’s that.”
“I got really nervous for a moment.”
“Well, they must have their own system.”
We spent that first moving day talking and settling in. I thought leaving our old dorm, where we’d grown attached, would be hard to adjust to—but it wasn’t. We adapted as if we’d always lived here. Mornings began with sprawling on the spacious sofa, staring at the ceiling.
“I don’t want to leave home.”
“Me neither...”
“I know. It’s too nice. Shall we live here forever?”
“...”
“Why is everyone suddenly closing their eyes...?”
In any case, it was happy. A time to recover from the fatigue of the small-theater tour and recent Japan concerts. We still had family vacations ahead, but it was good to finally rest.
Junghyun said,
“But shouldn’t we go to work?”
“They told us our company badges are deactivated.”
“How cruel. They won’t even let us work.”
“Wait—am I the only one who thinks this conversation is weird?”
I wanted to sneak into the practice room at least to sit quietly, but even our badges were disabled. They insisted we rest for at least two or three days. So I took the time to recharge completely—no work. And I used it to reconnect with people I hadn’t contacted in a while.
–Hi.
A brown-haired man appeared on my laptop screen. Like a Viking time-slipped to the modern era, a burly foreigner laughed heartily.
“It’s been a while.”
“It’s been a while, John. Congratulations on the Best Director award.”
“You finally did it. Twenty-three years after entering this field.”
I smiled at John Edwards, director of Nostalgia, glowing with pride. It was well deserved—at the Academy Awards a few days ago, Nostalgia had been nominated in nine of seventeen categories and won six, including Best Director, Best Cinematography, Best Supporting Actress, Best Visual Effects, and its main OST, Falling Stars, took Best Original Song. Rupert Dean had even sent me a link to the awards performance.
“Did you talk with Rupert?”
“Yes, I congratulated him. He was so excited about the nominations.”
After some small talk:
“So when can we meet? I’d like to see you in New York.”
“I think I can make it this month.”
“Fantastic. Great. Send my agent your schedule. I’ll make time.”
“Okay.”
It was for the same reason I missed him in LA last time—someone I was supposed to be introduced to had a sudden schedule conflict. I knew what it was about. After vacation I’d visit the US with Director Jo and made a note to prepare.
I also messaged my best friend.
“Hey. I moved.”
–Oh? Iya? Hey? (Moved? Where?)
“Spit water and talk.”
–Ptooey.
When Hagye-hyun spat out toothpaste foam and I told him the location, he went,
–You made it. Finally you made it. I can’t hold back tears.
He slapped his hands, then said,
–By the way, aren’t there Teenspirit kids living there? I heard security’s so tight they can’t even get in.
“It’s the downstairs unit. They even left orchids for us this morning.”
–Puhat!
“They said the moving rice cake you gave yesterday was delicious.”
She rotated the video to show the orchid with a ribbon reading Congratulations★on your move/good luck..! Junghyun, tending the plant, smiled warmly—and Hagye-hyun laughed in relief. I heard TNT planned to comeback with a repackage album soon; seeing his thin laugh barrier, I thought he must’ve been really stressed.
–Nice house.
He brushed back his hair mid–tooth brushing and asked,
–But that house doesn’t have a fountain?
“A fountain?”
–In a good house, at least a fountain is must, that’s the rule. Don’t tell me you didn’t even know that?
“I’d have to live in a good house to know.”
I’d heard TNT members all lived independently. I wondered if someone living alone in a palace-like house really had a fountain. Then he said,
–I’ll show you. Our house’s fountain.
“A fountain? Where?”
–Here.
He held up a Waterpik spouting water, laughing. I gave him a pitying look—he just laughed harder.
“I’m hanging up.”
–But we’re still at the intro...
Click. The call ended. I turned to see Junghyun trimming the orchid.
“Junghyun.”
“Yes, hyung?”
“Why are there only weird people around me?”
He paused mid-snip, then said thoughtfully,
“The Earth revolves around the Sun, hyung.”
“Huh?”
“Galileo said it. The Earth revolves around the Sun.”
“What do you mean?”
“That’s what I mean.”
He began playing soft classical music for the orchid on his phone. I shrugged, still puzzled.
“By the way, Junghyun.”
“Yes.”
“That’s an artificial orchid.”
“I know, hyung. I’m practicing ahead of time.”
“I see.”
“Yep.”
“All right. Let’s get back to our tasks.”
While Junghyun communed with the fake orchid, I resumed composing. It was a truly peaceful routine.
On the long-awaited day our badges were reactivated:
Beep—
I heard the cheerful unlock tone as I entered the company.
“Maknae, BGM.”
“Yes.”
I played the villain theme from Star Wars and marched proudly down the corridor. Sunglasses on, we strode solemnly, and passing staff burst out laughing.
“Hello!”
“Hey. Did you have a good trip to Japan?”
“Yes! Please take these.”
We handed out gift bags on a cart—small souvenir gifts and post-its—and the recipients thanked us. We did this department by department.
“Hello everyone! We’re back!”
“Return with gifts.”
“Hey hyung, please stop saying ‘with’ in front of me.”
Every time we handed over a bag, laughter bloomed among the staff.
“It must’ve been tough going straight from the small theater to Japan. Thanks for your hard work.”
“Oh my, I’ve secretly wanted one of these. Thank you.”
“I’ll enjoy the snacks!”
We delivered bags to PR, operations, actor management... then A&R and production.
“The office is empty here.”
“Well yeah.”
We yelled toward the sound behind the open door.
“Ah!”
“Eek!”
Startled, the two teams ran out and tripped over each other. We handed them gifts.
“How did you know we were here?”
“Well, the coffee cup was steaming.”
We smiled and told them to stop hiding next time.
After finishing our company tour, we sat with the NewBlack TF team in the conference room. Holding our gift bundles, we spoke to everyone delighted.
“We’re finally back at work. Let’s clap three times to celebrate?”
Clap clap clap.
We celebrated with the staff who supported us from the small-theater tour through the past two weeks in Japan. Even though we’d been resting, they looked gaunt from their hard work. Thinking we should treat them to beef next, I greeted the two at the head table.
“Thank you for your hard work, PD-nim, Director Jo.”
“No, I had fun too—got to sell bread.”
A bespectacled middle-aged man smiled. Composer-pianist Ha Seungjoo, whom I hadn’t seen since the special album promotion, was back advising on our next album. Director Jo across from him sipped coffee and laughed.
“You worked hard overseas, right?”
“Yes.”
“Even if you say it wasn’t hard... oh, it was hard. Yes, it was.”
Our director’s face flickered like Go Gil-dong’s for a moment. We exchanged flattery—“You’re awesome,” “No, you’re awesome”—then relaxed as TF leader Seokhwan began the meeting.
“Let’s start.”
Staff opened laptops; we pulled out diaries to take notes.
“First, the Japan results.”
They reported our achievements: 36,000 attendees over four days in Kobe and 30,000 over two days in Yokohama—totaling about 66,000. Hearing the numbers again was surreal. They also shared pop-up store sales and public reactions offline.
“However, despite the excellent results, it’ll be tough to do full-scale Japan promotions.”
PR manager Hong Seoyoung nodded.
“Local broadcasters are very hostile. They edit everything maliciously, and honestly it influences the public. There was another incident recently.”
“Another one?”
They’d aired a segment, “Why did NewBlack abruptly return from Japan?” suggesting collusion over March 1st. People clicked their tongues around the table. Hong Seoyoung said,
“We’ll try to renovate our image with the upcoming MyTube TV concept content, but the more we promote there, the more malicious edits will appear.”
“So unlike other idols, we can’t really promote in Japan.”
“Right.”
They were negative about releasing Japanese versions or doing an official debut there. Staff spoke up:
“China’s hard to target now too. They’re closing doors to protect domestic content.”
“And TNT dominates there—their Chinese member, Jang Hanbyeol, once rises, a hundred million stir.”
“Plus Japan now sees NewBlack as the spearhead of Korean pop culture”—they implied those markets didn’t want a popular Korean idol intruding.
With the two biggest K-pop markets effectively closed, there was only one choice.
“So for overseas promotions, we should focus on regions outside China and Japan.”
Seokhwan agreed.
“Yes, that’s our plan. We’re discussing positively with K-Net.”
“K-Net?”
Our leader nodded.
“They’re planning a K-pop concert tour in Europe and North America this year and asked us as the main performer.”
“Oh.”
I nodded at my brothers looking at me proudly. Discussion continued on overseas activities.
“In that case, we recommend targeting Southeast Asia and other regions.”
Staff asked us,
“How do you feel?”
“We agree. It’s the only way.”
Total consensus. With domestic popularity backlash making China and Japan inaccessible, we needed a third path. They wrapped up overseas talk and moved on.
“Next, the most important...”
The room grew serious.
“The next album. A&R and production are gathering songs.”
“Yes, I have some in progress too.”
“We’re soliciting songs to fit your concept; we should finish soon.”
Our next album’s personal color was purple—the last of the Five Colors series—an album starring me. After the special album, we’d decided the concept in meetings while on tour, and apparently they’d been collecting songs while we were in Japan.
I told Assistant Manager Seo Pilgeun, representing A&R,
“Can you send us the submitted songs? We’ll listen in our spare time.”
“I’ll give you a USB afterward. But it’ll take days to hear them all.”
“Pardon?”
“They thought this was your full album, so we got a flood of submissions.”
I nearly panicked at the sheer number.
Director Jo asked,
“Since it’s been about two years since debut, maybe a full album would be good.”
“I don’t think now is the time. I want this next one to be a full album.”
“For fairness?”
“Yes.”
Albums are generally classified by track count: ten or more is a full album, with more effort than a mini. Though it was time on paper,
“I don’t want to suddenly release a full album starring me after doing minis for everyone else.”
“True.”
“I want a full album after this series ends.”
As someone handling production, I was sensitive—my parts couldn’t overshadow others. I wanted to avoid controversy. When others nodded in agreement, consultant Ha Seungjoo asked me,
“Wooju, how’s the songwriting going?”
“Um, good.”
“Any blocks?”
“A few issues to solve. I’ll tell you later.”
He nodded. It wasn’t the place to discuss my problems. Director Jo smiled with narrowed eyes, my brothers tilted their heads, and Seokhwan said,
“We’ll discuss the album later. Now, about the next comeback...”
Our attention snapped ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) back.
“We’re planning a new concert.”
It was news of our second concert.
