Free Web Novel“‘Cast Interview on ‘Vocal Hell’”
The Lemon Entertainment lounge serves as the backdrop, and entertainer Mo Beom-ju is seated.
With a small build and wearing nerdy glasses, he looks like a cute little owl.
[Q. How was the vocal practice with Ri-hyuk?]
A. Ha.......
Laughter from the cast rings out unabashedly.
Staring into space and holding back tears, Mo Beom-ju lowers his head and looks at the camera.
[Q. It seems like it was really tough for you.]
A. Back when we were doing dance practice, I was thinking, “Ah, this person is an angel.” Whenever the other teachers were harsh, he’d send me these long, encouraging texts like, “You must be having a hard time, right?”
He took the chocolate Ri-hyuk gave him out of his pocket and showed it—along with the phone message.
A text that read: “One must endure the winter to see the spring.”
Looking at that, Mo Beom-ju let out another “Ha....”
A. So I thought, “Ah, this person must have compassion, unlike the others.”
[Q. But was that not the case?]
A. Turns out his compassion is selective. And I’d overlooked that Ri-hyuk is also a member of NewBlack.
The production staff laughed again.
After vocal practice ends and it’s time to change the tape, the cast collapses in the now-empty rehearsal room where the NewBlack members have just left.
“Uwaaah.......”
Their stomachs ache as if they’d spent hours doing crunches. Their heads spin as if they could vomit at any moment. But still......
“Why do I have so much energy left!?”
They feel like they’re about to die, yet not so much that they can’t keep going—a bizarre phenomenon of extreme exhaustion yet excess strength. Just like when they learned the choreography from Bi-ju, they pushed vocal lessons to their limit but found they could handle it.
“Is it just me? It’s such hard work, but I still feel like I have energy left.......”
“Me too.”
“It’s really tough, and just as I’m like, ‘I’ll collapse if this goes on,’ they stop right then.”
As they lament, former soccer player Kim Ui-ji, stretching nearby, replies with a serious look.
“These kids—this isn’t the work of someone who’s only rolled out one or two people.”
“Hyungnim.”
“Hm?”
“Why so serious all of a sudden? It doesn’t suit you at all.”
“Hmph.”
A towel Kim Ui-ji tosses lands smack on Chu Gi-seok’s face.
They all giggle, and Kim Ui-ji continues:
“But who would they have trained? They didn’t have to teach trainees.”
“......?”
Only then does the mystery clear. He wondered how they knew their limits so well, but apparently they’d done it to each other. It’s impressive without realizing it.
“No wonder they’re so good.”
“I want to bring my nephew here.”
At Nam Do-hoon’s comment, everyone turned their heads.
“Why your nephew?”
“Lately he’s been begging my brother and sister-in-law to let him become an idol... I want him to experience this.”
“He’d probably run away in a day.”
They all laughed heartily. Though exhausted and sore, the mood was fantastic.
“This will work. It absolutely will.”
In variety production they often say, “On-site fun translates to on-air fun.” Whether the project succeeds or fails, they’re confident about the ratings and buzz.
Just then, quietly—amongst the sprawled-out cast, the slender In-young staggers up. Kim Ui-ji grabs maknae Hong-seok.
“Seok-ah. You said you slept two hours last night. Why are you up?”
“I want to practice more.”
With that, the member shook out his hair and moved to the mirrored wall to practice basics.
“Oh my. He’s really dedicated.”
“Maybe because it’s his dream. Doesn’t he seem more driven than usual?”
As they chatted, the door clicked open and they all flinched.
“Kyaruk! Kyak!”
In came NewBlack, full of bubbly energy. They looked so fresh it was as if they’d sucked the life force from these tired idols and rejuvenated themselves.
“Sunbaenimdeureul!”
“Why.......”
The cast slumped like boiled cabbage.
“Why.......”
“We went to the convenience store and bought snacks for you guys!”
“Aww. You didn’t have to.......”
Instantly revitalized, the MiF members straightened their posture. They then glanced at the number of bags in surprise.
“Uwaaah......”
“You even got some for the production crew?” freewebnoveℓ.com
“No. That’s separate.”
At Uju’s words they looked and saw the managers handing out treats to the staff.
An-Jae-hee gazed in amazement.
“Your hands are so big.”
“That’s right.”
They laughed at Jung-hyun’s paws-up gesture like a bear’s paw. Though they weren’t literally the same hands, who cared? Here were cold ice °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° creams and all sorts of snacks teasing their taste buds.
NewBlack’s leader asked:
“Hong-seok sunbaenim, won’t you have any?”
“Leave it. He never eats during recordings—says it makes him sleepy.”
Though concerned, NewBlack called again but Hong-seok waved them off with a smile. Uju watched the ongoing choreography practice with a strange expression, then conversation resumed in the warm atmosphere.
“So do you practice like this every day now?”
“Yes. Sometimes from 7 a.m. to 10 p.m.... These days schedules vary so much.”
“Uwaaah.”
“But all the other groups do it too. I heard from Teenspirit sunbaenims that ten hours is basic.”
Hearing the staggering practice volumes of first-tier idols, their jaws dropped. Appreciation for their counterparts arose spontaneously.
“You’re helping us at such a tough time.”
“Ah! No, really.”
“......You came at a really hard season. Thank you.”
An-Jae-hee jumped in.
“We should really thank you. We bought a song for 5,000 won.”
“Ah, 5,000 won.......”
Uju looked moist-eyed into the air, and they offered sheepish smiles before turning warm gazes toward him.
–Hey, Mr. Glum. Why so glum again?
–I called everyone, but no one wants to do it. The idol project.
They’d heard PD Shin Mu-rok was having tremendous difficulty recruiting. All the candidates the staff thought of declined due to the project’s time burden. And inviting someone who just wanted more exposure wasn’t an option. Of course it was a win-win for NewBlack, but only if everything went smoothly—it wasn’t easy to ask them to carve time out of album and concert prep.
“Ehehehit! Euhat!”
“Neuaah!”
They were so bubbly, it was hard to consider that side of things, but Uju teased:
“When you have time later, please help promote our song.”
“Sure. We will.”
“Huh? Really?”
“Thank you!” NewBlack reacted with shoulder-dancing, drawing uncle-like smiles from MiF.
Big brother Kim Ui-ji glanced at the wall clock.
“The wall clock is.......”
Gone.
Checking his wristwatch, he asked:
“What’s left now? We’ve seen choreography and vocals......”
“Singing.”
“Oh! Singing.”
Excitement flickered in the members’ eyes. They wondered what song the composer who’d topped charts last year and earlier this year would create. Then Jung-hyun spoke up.
“But before that, there’s one thing to discuss.”
“......?”
“It’s about dieting.”
“......!”
They realized the NewBlack members opposite hadn’t been eating anything—just apples from Lock&Lock containers. The maknae and big brother sniffing chocolates but only inhaling their aroma. Moved, Ri-hyuk told the MiF members:
“Weird to look at, right?”
They nodded.
“Actually it’s normal if you diet for a long time. A person becomes like that.”
“Our future? That?”
“High probability. Around 87 percent.”
“.......”
Ten seconds of silence passed.
“Hey. Eat. Eat all this.”
“Hyungnim! Let’s unwrap and eat these together!”
The five men hurriedly tore open snack wrappers as a 6mm camera vividly captured the on-site mood.
Recording resumed.
“MiF MiF let’s go!”
“Yay......”
As Kim Ui-ji pumped them up with his trademark shout, they strained to rally their energy. Jung-hyun intoned grandly:
“Diet ends D-39.”
“No, hyung. Who says a concert date is the end of a diet.......”
“Whoaah!”
All but one dissenter bounced like dusky snub-nosed monkeys, cheering. The MiF members gave grandfatherly chuckles of, “Youngsters can’t be beaten...”
“All right! Cameras rolling!”
With the cameras back on, they got to the point.
“You know you have to diet, right?”
“Aah.......”
“To show fans an even cooler image, it’s something you must do.”
Amid sighs, Chu Gi-seok shot up his hand.
“So does that mean we can eat until tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Did you hear that? We’re having a dinner gathering—no absences!”
Chu Gi-seok’s gleaming eyes at the producers made everyone laugh. An-Jae-hee asked:
“But do we even have weight to lose? We all train hard and don’t have much flab.”
“Yes. You still need to lose.”
“Really, there’s nothing to lose.......”
I draped an arm around Jung-hyun and said:
“Want Jung-hyun to check you? He’s amazing at eyeballing body fat.”
“That’s right. It’s almost human-level TMI!”
“Maybe you mean BMI......”
At the maknae’s random quip, everyone laughed. The entertainers eyed Jung-hyun curiously.
“Hmm......”
Scanning An-Jae-hee like a scanner—eyes up and down—Jung-hyun leaned in and whispered in her ear. The moment An-Jae-hee’s eyes widened with a “!” was the highlight.
“Hey, you......!”
“Was it close?”
“Not close—exact. What are you?”
Instead of answering, Jung-hyun drew a V by his eye and burst out laughing. An-Jae-hee, flabbergasted, faced the camera and said:
“My gym trainer doesn’t even know this.”
“How did you guess? Amazing.”
They gaped, and I smiled. freewebnovёl.ƈom
“Any questions about dieting, sunbaenims?”
“.......”
“If not......”
Chu Gi-seok raised his hand and shouted urgently:
“S-so, is alcohol allowed?”
“Alcohol of course......”
“Of course?”
“No! It’s absolutely not allowed.”
We made an X with our hands.
“Our trainer said the weight from alcohol is the one to really watch.”
“That’s right, Gi-seok. While we’re at it, cut back on alcohol.”
“What do you say if someone likes drinking a lot~?”
“You’ll get divorced! For sure!” We mimicked Maeda-taechang and laughed.
As Chu Gi-seok left, empty-handed, the good-looking athlete-type who’d been listening asked quietly:
“But if you diet, don’t you lose a lot of muscle? Doesn’t strength drop a lot too?”
“Huh? Isn’t that bad if strength drops?”
“These muscles were hard-won......”
He shyly flexed an arm, and I smiled before answering:
“Don’t worry about strength.”
“Really?”
“We’re not experts either, but even if you lose some strength, it’s not that much.”
With that, we decided to give them firsthand experience.
“How about an arm-wrestling match with Jung-hyun?”
Rolling up his sleeve, Jung-hyun lay on the rehearsal-room floor in an arm-wrestling stance. The MiF members looked at him as if asking “Are you kidding?”
“Isn’t that the one from the 'military variety show' who ended up in the hospital...?”
“That’s right.”
“The doctor said if he sends anyone to the hospital, it wouldn’t be him coming back.”
“Was that so? I think that was it.”
“Hey!”
As they tried to protest, I raised my hand as if to say “Just a moment!”
“But there’s more than enough chance of winning!”
“How so......?”
“Compared to sunbaenims who eat and train regularly, Jung-hyun is exhausted and hungry right now.”
Someone muttered, “Like a beast...” and the maknae clarified:
“Simply put, you’re facing Jung-hyun at his weakest time of the year!”
“.......”
“Try it—try it. Feel that weakened strength.”
The members all averted their eyes, then chose a target.
“Do-hoon.”
“This should be Do-hoon hyung. You said you were worried about losing strength, so you should try it and see it’s not true.”
“You’re hesitating because of those muscles, hyungnim?”
Nam Do-hoon rolled up his sleeve with a serious expression and said:
“No, I’m just afraid I might hurt him if I use my strength.”
“Ohhh!”
“Well, there is weight class......”
“You stick-out tongue, Nam Do-hoon. Go.”
Big brother Kim Ui-ji gave Do-hoon a shove on the back. Laughter erupted at Do-hoon’s anguished “Do I really have to do this?” Finally the two clasped hands.
“Ooh...!”
Do-hoon’s exclamation cracked everyone up. The MiF members teased:
“Do-hoon hyung seems nervous.”
“......I don’t get nervous.”
“Look at the sweat on your sideburns. When he’s nervous, it starts there.”
“Hush. I’m focused.”
Seizing a chance for broadcast fun, Kim Ui-ji said:
“It wouldn’t be fun just doing it straight, right?”
“It’s hella fun, hyung? It’s a NewBlack TV exclusive match!”
Chu Gi-seok stepped off camera as Kim Ui-ji continued:
“If we win, how about you cut our practice time a bit? Let us have a somewhat human life......!”
“Yes! Sounds good.”
Then what condition would they propose? After conferring with his juniors, Kim Ui-ji decided:
“If we win, please make us a stage video of your cover of our song!”
“That’s a good idea!”
After leaders shook on it, they began cheering. Since the build difference was obvious, they thought they had a fair chance—Jung-hyun was at his leanest of the year.
“Do-hoon hyung! We’re watching!”
“Please be quiet......”
“Kim Jung-hyun! If you lose, no cherry tomatoes for dinner tonight! Only greens!”
“No. My cherry tomatoes......!”
Amid their shouting, the PD intervened and the arm-wrestling began.
“Ooh!”
Nam Do-hoon pushed hard, trying to bend Jung-hyun’s arm, but Jung-hyun didn’t budge. And then......
“......!”
Veins and muscles popping, Jung-hyun’s arm stood out sharply.
Bang!
The match was over.
“Waaaah!”
They stared as if asking, “What did we just see?” I celebrated the victory. Jung-hyun beamed, having secured cover-video promotion.
“Kim Bi-ju, I want double the cherry tomatoes.”
“Confirmed.”
At the endearing OK gesture between the same-aged duo, everyone burst into joyful laughter.
After wrapping the underground rehearsal-room recording, the cast gathered in the production studio.
Surveying the audio equipment and console, someone asked:
“Is this where you work?”
“No. Our studio is down the hall. This is the shared space with company staff.”
It was the largest studio on the second floor. Our own was too small for filming, so they chose this one. Hearing that Scarlet and sunbaenim Yoon Chan-hyuk recorded here, the cast reacted with fascination.
“So that’s why there was a zebra cushion here. This must be Kim Na-yun’s?”
At singer An-Jae-hee’s question—whether she knows Daisy—we simply smiled warmly. Meanwhile we introduced the man trembling like a trembling poplar in his chair.
“This is PD Na Sang-yun, head of our Lemon Ent. producing team.”
“Hello, nice to meet you.”
“It’s his first time on a show, so he’s really nervous.”
The MiF members greeted him cheerfully; we smiled, telling the very queasy PD to trust us.
“Ugh.......”
Why even more nervous? He sat at the keyboard, looking around.
“Today, we’re going to create a song together.”
“A song?”
“Yes. You said you wanted to try writing a B-side track. We’ll base it on the melodies you sent.”
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
Then we pointed to PD Na Sang-yun.
“That’s why we asked our producing-team composer to join us.”
“I see.”
“We need expert help.”
PD Na Sang-yun forced the most awkward smile in the world and nodded. While MiF watched with curiosity, the composer played files transferred from a USB. Forming a sketch in my mind, An-Jae-hee asked:
“But if you could write the song, why did you ask us for melody ideas?”
“We wanted to make a fan song for the program.”
“A fan song?”
“Yes. We heard Mr. Producer is celebrating his eighth anniversary this year.”
This was discussed in the pre-meeting with PD Shin Mu-rok. His reaction had been great, and sure enough, the MiF members lit up.
“A fan song sounds great!”
“We thought it would be meaningful if you directly participated in composing.”
“So does that mean MiF’s fan song is born right here?”
“That I don’t know yet. It may take time. For now, we’ll lay out the structure.”
Then at the keyboard, I played six melodies. Music is amazing. Even in this short sequence, you can hear personality—from Kim Ui-ji’s bold, direct line to Hong-seok’s gentle yet passionate tune. As I moved my left hand softly to loop the simple melody, I asked:
“How does it sound?”
“Oh.......”
“I added some sounds that might suit the main melodies you all brought.”
They looked puzzled; only my juniors and PD Na Sang-yun widened their eyes and said “Oh.” Smiling at them, I added the rest of the melodic layers.
“We’ll go with this simple progression. We’ll need to craft the chorus separately, but if we continued like this......”
I moved my right hand to play their melodies. The notes really stood out, so I smoothed the edges, varied them like trimming corners, fitting pieces together like a puzzle.
“Ooh......!”
When I lifted my hands near what would be the chorus, Ji-ho, lost in thought, spoke.
“Hyung. How about this?”
He timidly tapped the keyboard, but it sounded quite plausible. Praising the maknae who’d apparently been studying composition, we roughly outlined the song structure. Then—
“......Wait a minute.”
Amid stunned MiF members, An-Jae-hee’s mouth dropped open.
“Did we just make this here?”
“Hm?”
“It’s complete.”
“Complete?”
There was still a way to go to finish it. But playing it back, it really did sound solid. As the MiF stared in disbelief and our juniors puffed up proudly behind me, Mo Beom-ju suddenly burst out laughing.
“Look at PD Na Sang-yun’s face. He looks the most shocked, right?”
Oh. Turning, I saw a shadow on PD Na Sang-yun’s face.
“The composer just came, played his USB files, and that was it.”
“We said we needed help, but he’s the one who got played.”
“We did need expert help—just for clicking a mouse.”
I cried, “Ahhh! Sorry!” and grabbed his arm as PD Na Sang-yun wobbled like a scarecrow.
“You said you needed help. Why on earth did you call me, Sun Woo-ju......”
Mumbling sadly, he set off another round of laughter.
