Free Web NovelThe underground practice room.
The younger members tore into the gift bundles with cries of joy.
“Thank you so much, sunbaenim!”
“Not at all.”
Tae-hyeon grinned slyly.
“I’m bribing you to make sure today’s recording goes smoothly. It’s almost my first time on a major variety show like Mr. Producer.”
“I’ll do my best~”
“Thanks, Ji-ho.”
“Can we shake on it...?” They offered hands and giggled through the handshake.
Then Junghyun’s eyes nearly rolled back when he discovered the snacks in the envelope.
“All the drinks are zero-calorie!”
“Oh, well—I gain weight easily, but I love soda, so I ordered them directly from the US...”
The brothers swarmed him eagerly.
“Cherry cola that’s zero-calorie?”
“Amazing. Americans have to make everything zero. Even this!”
“Let’s each have a glass. Junghyun, grab some cups!”
“Just ten seconds! I’ll fetch them from the third floor!”
Tae-hyeon, standing just behind, shivered in mock exasperation.
“You guys aren’t listening at all...”
“We’ve been dieting for over a month now.”
“Over a month? Then fair enough.”
Tae-hyeon laughed in understanding.
They all sipped the sugar-free drinks and did a little celebratory dance like a flock of flamingos—briefly. While the brothers munched on snacks, I greeted our guest in the corner.
“You worked hard bringing these. How did you know what we like?”
“I saw it on MiTube. I’m a Fake-fler too.”
I laughed, and someone else, mid-giggle, suddenly looked thoughtful.
“Oh, right. Now’s not exactly the time to laugh.”
“...?”
“Pay up your compensation. You there.”
“Ha ha ha!”
“On Reality, you got a perfect karaoke score—total scammer!”
I gave him an apologetic smile as he poked at me.
He’d revealed his secret for scoring 100 on the karaoke machine and shared training-camp anecdotes. The guy who’d hauled in the most ice cream back then was now fuming.
“I didn’t even know I’d been duped...”
“Sorry~”
“When I sent the link, everyone said, ‘No wonder he was weird as a trainee.’”
They’d all greedily scooped ice cream. As they teased him about repaying his scams, Tae-hyeon smiled and said,
“Congrats are in order—congrats on your gymnastics concert, hyung.”
Then he wore an almost tearful expression, like a mountain spirit at a forest pond.
“You’ve grown so much, Sun Woo-ju... really.”
“Thanks, but don’t look down on me like that.”
“At our tenure, shouldn’t you be calling me hyung by now?”
...he huddled like a turtle, looking up playfully. He looked so awkward I laughed, but caught myself in case it offended him. He assumed I laughed at him, beaming with pride, so I asked,
“How about you?”
“Hm?”
“You’ve been busy lately, right?”
“Mostly the same. Our full album is scheduled for later this year, so it’s decently relaxed.”
He’d have downtime before launching a rookie boy group. Then he laughed, “Ah! I forgot to mention—my first solo album comes out soon.”
“Oh.”
He nodded at my raised eyebrow, and I said, “I’ll write something if I have time.”
“Oh? Really?”
“Title and concept are probably set internally anyway.”
“Right.”
“So I can comfortably suggest B-sides.”
“No way.”
I laughed at the TNT main dancer’s delight. He seemed to love the idea as much as if he needed songs, but I knew he’d promised long ago to write something for him someday.
“Don’t get your hopes too high.”
“Don’t worry~”
I downplayed expectations, but he was still smiling.
“If it sucks, so what? You keep it and listen when you need humility.”
“Never sending it if it sucks.”
Watching him laugh, I shook my head. From the sugar-free jelly dancers, Junghyun beckoned from the chaos.
“Hyung, here.”
“Bring it on.”
He tossed a jelly like a shot put, and I caught it in my mouth. Tae-hyeon’s interest was piqued.
“Looks fun. Mind if I...?”
“You’ll chip your front teeth if you miss.”
“This place is no joke...”
As TNT’s member admired the brothers, the door clicked open and PBS staff burst in to set up equipment.
When Tae-hyeon asked where to rest, I pointed out the company lounge.
“Oh—and by the way...”
“...?”
“I sent you your composing fee too—did you see it?”
“What?”
“Five thousand won.”
Right after the premiere, friends had bombarded him with ₩5,000 transfers. Eun-seong sent ₩3,333, so Junghyun refunded ₩333. Street Boys’ nine members each sent ₩5,000, then fussed when he returned ₩50,000. The charming younger neighbors below sent a ₩5,000 gift card and ₩500 scratch ticket, which he cheerfully returned. But Tae-hyeon was oddly silent.
“You sent it? I haven’t gotten any.”
“I did.”
“To which account?”
“The one—your old trainee account.”
I checked the app: the old trainee account had ₩49,500—the transfer from “Han Tae-hyeon” was clear.
...
I felt strangely moved. That was the account TJ used to pay me tuition and upkeep. Someone remembered it. Looking up, he grinned.
“So? Did my gesture land?”
It felt like a smash hit. I asked,
“But why ₩49,500? Why send the extra ₩500?”
“Oh, that?”
He laughed sheepishly.
“Bank transfer fee: ₩500.”
...
“Because I can’t stand mismatched numbers...”
...
Strangely, it made sense.
One hour later, we stood with the Mr. Producer cast in the practice room.
“Let’s begin recording!”
Model Hong-seok clapped, and the cameras rolled. ATEN’s members, who’d stood like statues, perked up.
“Hello, viewers!”
“We, ATEN, have returned to Lemon Ent. for a mid-term check.”
“Waaaah!”
We clapped and cheered.
“Have you practiced a lot?”
“We’ve been staying up every night.”
MC Kim Eui-ji introduced them, and members emphasized how hard they’d trained. Ahn Jae-hee said,
“Now I understand why idols live in dorms—because of the commute.”
“You’ve worked hard.”
“In that case, want to try dorm life yourselves? Only if you volunteer...”
The married members shot pleading looks at us, and we shook our heads with fond smiles.
“No thanks.”
“Why not?!”
“You said you’re too short on time for dorms. We’ve got footage from writers...”
They winced. I smiled and said,
“You spent an hour doing MBTI tests on your break.” freёweɓnovel.com
“Ahem...”
“Wouldn’t it have been better to practice during that time?”
“Teacher, you’re shooting lasers at us again.”
“We’re scared of you more than our wives.”
Their timid complaints had us laughing. Then Chu Gi-seok stood, eyes blazing.
“But I have something to say.”
“Hey, Gi-seok. Plan what you say, or you’ll get scolded.”
“I want to talk about MBTI. Teachers...”
He spoke seriously.
“MBTI is science!”
“Ha ha ha!”
“No, really! It’s science. You take it, and you get goosebumps...”
They’d done MBTI for variety fun and found it surprisingly accurate. Kim Eui-ji asked,
“Do NewBlack teachers know MBTI?”
“It’s not bad... right?”
As everyone tilted their heads, Bi-ju said,
“My sister texted me: if someone offers you MBTI on the street, avoid them.”
“That does sound weird.”
We laughed at Bi-ju’s cult-camp suspicion. When Bi-ju stepped right of me and pretended to hide, ATEN members laughed. MBTI had been popping up in variety shows lately. As Ri-hyuk explained, Ji-ho said,
“I took it! ESTP!”
“Oh! Teacher, we match well!”
They high-fived, and we smiled silently. The cast lowered their heads.
“Yes, focus on practice. Understood...”
“I’m too scared to joke now. How did we get like this?”
“I’m more afraid of you than my wife.”
They lamented, then stood confident in the center of the room. What would they deliver?
Clap clap Music began. The five turned away, then on the beat of the intro, two from each side spun around with a flourish. With actors mixed in, their expressions were top-notch.
“Oh...!”
Even Chu Gi-seok spun and offered a dazzling smile. As the five walked off to the left, Hong-seok—who’d been hiding—strode forward. He pressed his hand to his forehead, as if scanning the horizon, and playfully acted out the lyrics while the others supported his choreography behind him.
“Ooo...!”
One could feel how hard they’d worked. Their passion was visible in every bead of sweat flying off their bodies, and it brought smiles all around.
Pant pant... After the ending pose, they sank down, gasping, faces seeking praise.
“How was it?”
We beamed and shouted,
“It was amazing!”
“Waaaah!”
“If you work this hard for another month, it’ll be incredible!”
“Waaaah...”
They seemed thrilled to have our approval. Especially model Hong-seok—proud he’d elevated the dance to this level—had tears glistening at the corners of his eyes. We patted his shoulders with ATEN, recognizing their hard work.
“Great job, Seok.”
“You were amazing. Really. Seeing the first part blew me away.”
“...Thank you.”
In that touching moment, we all applauded. One month since the first recording, these thirty-something trainees, once puppet-like, were now on the brink of debut—and our hearts were warm.
“You were fantastic. Seriously. I can’t imagine how much you practiced.”
“Grr.”
Probably eight and a half hours a day.
“You all did so great.”
“Now it’s time for the teachers’ ‘but’.”
“Exactly—dun dun.”
Junghyun’s dramatic flourish had everyone roaring with laughter. Off-camera, Tae-hyeon grabbed his manager and laughed silently. Finally, Bi-ju spoke to those waiting their evaluations.
“You all did so well, I have just one thing to mention.”
“I’m nervous...”
“When I sent Bi-ju a video and asked for one piece of feedback, I got 3,000 characters of notes.”
“No way! This time it’s really just one thing.”
Bi-ju waved his hands.
“Everything else was great, but there was one small issue.”
“What is it, teacher?”
“When each of your parts began or ended, you came in or out a bit hastily.”
“Ah...”
“From the moment you step on stage, every moment is part of your performance.”
The main dancer of a certain group behind the camera nodded. Bi-ju explained gently,
“If you get fixated on your {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} part, the overall quality drops. Focus on only your part, and you miss everything else.”
We all nodded. Worrying about “don’t mess up my part” meant slipping during other parts, or rushing off when your part ended—classic mistakes.
“For example, in our song ‘Masquerade,’ Ji-ho.”
“Yes?”
Bi-ju called Ji-ho to demonstrate. After his part ended, Ji-ho elegantly walked off even as Bi-ju took center. Then everyone had that aha moment.
“When you perform, imagine someone watching from every angle—make every moment look great, no matter which member they’re watching.”
“Understood, teacher.”
After that advice on the choreography, it was time to introduce our guests.
“You’re about a month away from debut, right?”
“That’s right!”
“It’s the toughest time physically and mentally, so we’ve invited a mentor to give you advice.”
“Ooo.”
“Since we’re not quite experienced enough, we brought someone very senior.”
“Very senior indeed.”
While Tae-hyeon flashed idol smiles at the behind-the-scenes camera, we applauded and announced,
“Please welcome TNT’s senior, Han Tae-hyeon!”
“Waaaah!”
“TNT! TNT!”
Amid cheers, Tae-hyeon waved as he entered. Kim Eui-ji exclaimed and hugged him.
“Good to see you, Tae-hyeon!”
“It’s great to see everyone again.”
“Love the hair—mint chocolate!”
“That’s why I sprayed on mint scent.”
Tae-hyeon greeted the Mr. Producer cast with his sly smile. Having appeared on many shows over six years, he seemed to know them all. As he came over, Nam Do-hoon asked,
“Tae-hyeon, what brings you here? I thought you were unbelievably busy.”
“Our repackaged album promotions just wrapped up, and they asked me to mentor you...”
“Ah.”
Seeing the writers’ sketchbooks, Kim Eui-ji smoothly segued,
“I hear one of NewBlack’s members is friends with Tae-hyeon, so the writers recommended you.”
“Yes, my best friend is here.”
“You’re avoiding Woo-ju’s eyes. He’s avoiding yours.”
“Well... this Woo-ju here is my best friend!”
Tae-hyeon grinned and put his arm around me, but everyone reacted lukewarmly.
“You don’t look that close.”
“Look—Tae-hyeon’s putting his arm around you, but Woo-ju’s folding his hands. Not close.”
“Actually...”
While Tae-hyeon flustered, I grinned.
“In private, we’re best friends. But this is official business, so we keep our distance.”
“Don’t act too close.”
“Ah, no! No!”
We and the variety stars hopped around, egging each other on.
“Huh? You two have similar hops—are you really friends?”
“Let’s just say yes.”
Amid that out-of-nowhere acceptance, everyone laughed. Then Chu Gi-seok threw out a warning.
“Tae-hyeon.”
“Yes...?”
“If you came here to go after Woo-ju, know he’s our personal property.”
That had the younger brothers jumping.
“He’s our property!”
“Right—ATEN’s just renting him from NewBlack TV, so hands off.”
“Hands off! Hands off!”
Like kindergartners, they all wailed together, and I was speechless. Tae-hyeon protested,
“No, we really are close!”
When the writers held up their sketchbooks, the variety stars’ eyes sharpened.
“After the show, did you send him ₩5,000 or not?”
“...Fine. I did.”
They clapped and laughed, and the staff joined in. Tae-hyeon skillfully steered the mood.
“Sending money isn’t a crime, though, right?”
“But now everyone knows your motive is impure.”
“Hey... but you promised to treat me well if I came on. Are you doing this? Really? I’m leaving?”
Only a seven-year idol could pull such a tantrum. The members cried, “Don’t go!” and held him back. Model Ju-hyung asked,
“But seriously—what’s your relationship?”
When Tae-hyeon recounted the story he’d told on ShinTokki, everyone reacted, “Ooo!” Then Kim Eui-ji addressed the camera:
“It’s wonderful. With Tae-hyeon sunbaenim here, we feel like we’ve gained an army.”
“Truly, Asia’s star is here!”
They teased the embarrassed Tae-hyeon, then said,
“Since you’re here, promote your album—show us your latest choreography.”
“Now?”
“All right! Please watch Asia’s star, TNT’s co-main dancer Han Tae-hyeon, dance!”
“Uh, yes. Okay.”
Tae-hyeon gave an awkward smile as he took center stage. Music played, and he removed the hand that had been covering his face. His gaze and expression shifted, and it felt like the atmosphere instantly changed. As he languidly rode the wave of the beat, writers gave him an impromptu seal-clap.
“Bi-ju.”
Bi-ju and I exchanged glances, then dove in behind him as backup dancers. He paused in surprise, then naturally synced with our moves. The other brothers joined in, amplifying the energy.
“Waaaah!”
After the choreography, Tae-hyeon gave us high-fives, looking genuinely astonished. ƒreewebɳovel.com
“Thank you. How did you learn this choreography...?”
“You said you were coming, so we prepared in advance. We’d planned it to show you—”
“Seriously? Thank you so much, NewBlack.”
The timing was perfect. The joint choreography must’ve impressed because the variety stars and PD Shin Murok smiled in satisfaction. I adopted a mock-serious expression and said,
“Of course, it’s not free.”
“What? No?”
“It’s a paid service!”
Tae-hyeon burst out laughing, and we said,
“Later, please do our Point Choreography Challenge, hyung.”
“Understood. I’ll do it.”
While we shared a warm laugh, the hosts praised NewBlack’s corporate savvy. After the guest-introduction segment, ATEN’s members turned back to Tae-hyeon.
“Today you came to give advice to us, rookie idols debuting soon, right?”
“Yes~”
“As newcomers, what should we keep in mind?”
“I plan to share about seven key points.”
“Ooo.”
Tae-hyeon, exuding senior vibes, said,
“First: ‘A stage is not made in a day.’”
“...?”
“Second: It’s about people’s reactions...”
His phrasing and order sounded oddly familiar—I stifled a laugh. The variety stars, who’d been murmuring “hmms,” suddenly sharpened their eyes. Ahn Jae-hee pounced,
“Isn’t your second of NewBlack’s Ten Commandments ‘Ignore the rumors—listen only as much as your ears are meant to hear’?”
“Um...?”
“Still haven’t seen the broadcast? We already learned it from the original masters.”
“Ten commandments...? Not seven?”
Everyone giggled at Tae-hyeon’s startled expression. He whispered,
“When did it become ten?”
“A while back.”
“Hurry up and recite 8, 9, 10. I’ll pretend I made them up.”
Amid the prod from an original brother, I gave him an encouraging smile. Then his sly face broke into an idol grin.
“I think there’s been some confusion. Actually, these ten are just a collection of my favorite quotes.”
“Sunbaenim! So what’s number eight?”
Tae-hyeon dodged his gaze, and everyone burst out laughing.
