Free Web NovelAfter finishing the daechwita performance, I set down the taepyeongso.
“Huhahaha!”
I heard my underlings laughing in my ears.
“Wow, this is actually so much fun! Who knew gugak could be this entertaining?”
“I was picturing dance moves while playing—want to see?”
“Not bad.”
It really was a garbage-grade performance.
“...I’m sorry.”
I apologized to our trembling king.
“I was going to do it alone, but they insisted we have to do this for your birthday too.”
“That’s fine. I don’t even need to see it to know what happened. Huuu...”
Ri-hyuk took a deep breath to calm himself, and his brothers exchanged puzzled looks.
“Was it that bad? For a first try, it wasn’t so awful.”
“Well, in our opinion it was okay.”
Seeing them look to me for agreement, I offered them a warm smile.
“...But you two should never claim you’re musicians out in public.”
They burst out laughing.
“I mean, there I was playing my taepyeongso, seeing this beautiful green light... then the moment you all opened your mouths, the color changed—industrial waste green.”
I had been enjoying that lovely emerald glow, and suddenly sewage got mixed in, turning it into a terrible shade.
I wanted to ask if we could erase that memory.
“No.”
Ri-hyuk breathed fire.
“I was getting all touched, preparing to be moved! You really can’t stand to see me emotional!”
“Was it really that bad?”
“Graaah!”
Jiho said, “But playing isn’t exactly easy.”
“True.”
“We like you so much that we wanted to celebrate your birthday with a gugak performance.”
“Ri-hyuk, we practiced a lot.”
At that, Ri-hyuk’s scowl softened. He cleared his throat and asked,
“Well, how much did you practice...?”
“About thirty minutes?”
Good thing I covered my ears in advance.
In his dragon robe and king’s hat, Ri-hyuk let out an angry roar like Yeonsangun, and my underlings’ hair blew in the wind.
I turned my gaze to the live-chat comments.
I smiled at their kind encouragement and said,
“Let’s pretend you didn’t hear that...”
As if it were “Newchuita” instead of daechwita, I returned my attention to Ri-hyuk.
“Happy birthday!”
“In any case, huge congrats, hyung!”
“Ri-hyuk, thank you so much for being here for us.”
The four of us danced around him shouting “Our main vocal is the best!” Ri-hyuk’s cheek twitched.
Despite his cold façade, his face flushed, and he soon lost his composure and laughed.
“Well...”
Lifting his dragon-robe hem to cover his mouth, Ri-hyuk said,
“Thank you. For preparing this birthday party.”
Then he smiled brightly at the phone streaming on the Y-app live.
“Wow! Look at that! He always looks so serious with us, but he smiles like that for fans...!”
“That’s okay. It’s not day one of this.”
“Someday Ri-hyuk will smile at us again...”
He glared back at us, and we averted our eyes.
The one who always nags him to smile paused, cleared his throat, and said,
“Everyone, today is my birthday.”
He struck a solo shot, waving enthusiastically behind it.
Ri-hyuk muttered, “Hmm...” and rolled his eyes, as if carefully selecting each word like a pretty pebble on the shore.
“I’ve read so many birthday messages from you all. It’ll take me some time, but I’ll remember every single one. I’m truly grateful that you like me....”
He gave a warm smile.
“Thank you for being with me on the day I was born, and thank you for coming into my life.”
Jiho whispered,
“Isn’t that a parody of Uju hyung’s ‘Nakhwa’ encore speech?”
“Hmm, maybe call it an homage?”
“Uju hyung, Ri-hyuk just said something similar to what you said at the concert.”
“Really? Oh, he knows the good lines~”
Immediately, the royal wrath erupted.
“Not standing there?!”
“Aaaahhhh!”
As always, it ended in a chase.
That night, a blog post titled “An Idol Likely to Be Sued by the Daechwita Preservation Society” went up online about the birthday party.
The term “daechwita” even trended.
[Real-Time Search Keywords]
7th place. daechwita
People seeing the NewBlackTV video of the birthday party searched “What is daechwita?”
Riding that trend, news sites picked it up, and gugak professionals left comments.
┕ Excuse me, did you actually watch the performance?
┕ No, just photos for now, hehe
┕ Go watch here... (link)
┕ NewBlack, please never perform gugak again
┕ kkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
┕ Fits of rage lol this is spot on
Eventually, Song Ah-rang, the gayageum player from “Nakhwa,” also commented on the video.
Gayageum Song Ah-rang
[∠Pinned by NewBlackTV]
I have absolutely nothing to do with that performance...
The same professionals who’d been excited about “interest in gugak!” were now watching, murmuring, “No... no...”
Even the copy-fandom’s shields gave up and joined the mockery.
It was a fantasy comment fest among Souffle, the copy-fandom, and netizens alike.
Meanwhile, the idol community buzzed with another bait.
[Han Tae-hyun Solo Album Info]
[Han Tae-hyun Solo Album... Star-Studded Features Revealed]
[Han Tae-hyun’s New Album ‘Double Title,’ Composed/Lyricized by NewBlack Uju]
News of Han Tae-hyun—the most popular TNT member—debuting as a solo artist had fans in a frenzy over the TJ Ent. promo map. The collaboration with NewBlack’s Uju drew the biggest reaction.
Even idol-fandom outsiders showed interest. It was a combo of a top-charting songwriter and one of the industry’s top idols.
“How did this happen?”
Not a variety show but an album project—by the composer behind the current top-three daily chart songs. Han Tae-hyun’s fandom was ecstatic.
“It’s insane...!”
They imagined a happy fan life.
“The title track isn’t even overshadowing the song Ujuseon gave—that’s wild.”
As Han Tae-hyun’s fandom marveled, the next reaction made their eyes go wide.
“What? Why are muggles reacting too? How...?”
Non-idol fans were showing interest in Han Tae-hyun’s solo album. Just as their favorite singer admired NewBlack’s popularity, fans were amazed.
News that even muggles were tuning in left Han Tae-hyun’s fans speechless.
“What kind of fangirling are NewBlack fans doing?”
They thought it was great that the public showed interest—but when they actually did, it felt incredibly sweet.
Immersed in happiness, they learned NewBlack TV released videos like “Visiting TJ Ent.” and a series called “Survivor – Behind the Scenes.”
“Taaehyuuun!”
Fans, chanting his name, tuned in to MyTube, and the video played.
Scenes showed Han Tae-hyun guiding NewBlack around, then Uju and Tae-hyun huddled in the studio brainstorming. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com
Fans captured every frame with delight and smiled at the content.
“They have amazing chemistry...?”
They’d felt it when he appeared as a special guest on MiP, but it was even stronger now.
Then they realized why.
“It’s MyTube.”
On broadcast, Uju had to address seniors formally—but here, they spoke casually. They looked so comfortable calling each other hyung and dongsaeng.
“-Hyung!”
“-Tae-hyun!”
The TJ Ent. producers trembling beside them looked pitiful, but the content was a feast for the eyes and ears. True to the rumor that NewBlack TV’s editors earned the highest at Lemon Ent., it was full of graphics and absurd subtitles.
Uju: Tae-hyun.
Tae-hyun: Huh?
Uju: Let’s consider how to express these lyrics.
Tae-hyun: Sounds good.
They crossed their arms and studied the score in silence.
[Surprisingly, this is not a still frame]
[>> 10× speed]
About thirty minutes in, Tae-hyun shouted “Ah!” and the serious BGM abruptly stopped.
Uju: What’s up?
Tae-hyun: I put a chocolate cake in the fridge—wanna eat?
Uju: Yeah.
Back came the solemn BGM. They pored over lyrics, brainstormed, recorded, and brainstormed again for over thirty minutes.
“They’re brutal. Really brutal.”
Watching them go at it in the work log, I shook my head. I wanted to save it to watch whenever I needed motivation. Top stars are top for a reason.
As I watched the process of “Survivor” take shape, the final clip felt like a behind-the-scenes: Uju in his hoodie, smiling at a self-cam.
He whispered, conscious of PD Na Sang-yun muttering in his sleep beside him, “Die, why won’t you die...”
Uju: I’ve finished writing the song “Survivor.” It’s about a friend I’ve known since my /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ trainee days. I’m not sure if the fans will like it...but I hope you listen kindly.
Watching Uju speak with heartfelt sincerity—as if composing for a close friend, not just fulfilling an order—moved me. A snippet of “Survivor”’s synthesizer intro drifted out sweetly.
“...”
Han Tae-hyun’s fans nodded at what they saw, then added “Bulkkotnori” to their streaming playlists.
While the music scene buzzed over someone’s solo album, I—juggling overseas tour and various schedules—faced another task.
I had to build Agent K’s character.
“To audition, you should nail the basics of your character. The director will guide you later, but showing this in the audition can score points.”
I nodded at Jiho’s words.
“First, you’re in a sitcom.”
“Yeah.”
“What’s the biggest point of a sitcom?”
“Hmm...” I thought hard, then said, “Being funny?”
“That’s just the baseline. I mean the medium’s defining trait—the main character’s key feature in a sitcom.”
“Like absurdity? I don’t know. What is it?”
Jiho spoke seriously.
“Character consistency.”
“Consistency?”
“In dramas, main characters are three-dimensional, right? You know what three-dimensional means?”
“3D?” Junghyun quipped, and got a smack on the back from Biju.
I asked Jiho, “Doesn’t three-dimensional mean the character changes over the story?”
“Yes, but in a sitcom, the character doesn’t change from episode one to the last. It’s about people doing crazy things to be funny—but that craziness has to be consistent.”
“I get it.”
A sitcom (situation comedy) mines humor from the situation. Imagine a neat-freak who freaks out over a single speck of dust; if family members wreck his favorite outfit, then act like fools to hide it, that’s sitcom humor...
“Don’t steal my explanation slyly.”
“Got it.”
“Anyway, sitcom characters don’t change, so you have to define them tightly from the start. When people watch seasonal sitcoms, they expect consistency.”
“They do change sometimes.”
“Then viewers complain—‘That’s breaking the setting.’”
Today I learned another acting lesson.
Because of that, I studied Agent K’s character. I pondered on commutes and breaks— but it wasn’t easy.
“Why is this so hard?”
The reason was simple.
“There aren’t any clues.”
There wasn’t enough material to build his character. He seemed like a bland gray person—undercover with false smiles, but never genuine.
“Hmm...” I stared at the script.
Scene 23.
Agent K’s stage direction reads “interrogates in a flat tone.” There, his skill shows as he immediately identifies the hidden aliens. His incompetent bosses then praise him.
Boss 1: As expected of our K. Ha ha ha!
Boss 2: No matter how you look at it, you’re the only talent in this department. You did great again.
Boss 3: How... how did you know they were aliens?
Agent K replies with “proper etiquette,”
K: It was intuition.
As if drawing a line—you needn’t know why. Polite yet aloof. The text hints at a consistent core, but I couldn’t pin it down at my level.
So I resorted to my final measure.
“Jiho.”
I went up to floor two of the dorm and knocked on his door. Inside, he was mid-LOL game with potato chips.
“Biju hyung, I’m not eating an apple... Oh, it’s you.”
“Playing a game?”
“Not that important.”
He snapped his laptop closed, rubbed his hands, and sat on the bed.
“So, why did our aspiring actor come here for help?”
“I need your help.”
“Hmm~ Just words? Shouldn’t there be some action?”
I dropped to my knees and asked,
“Is this enough?”
“Gyaaah! Why are you doing that?!”
I was trying to be dramatic.
“Please...! My knees are NewBlack’s knees, you know.”
He hated that kind of joke. Finally, we faced each other on the bed with the script between us.
“So what’s blocking you?”
“Blocking me?”
“You have to say ‘blocking me,’ hyung.”
I laughed and said,
“I don’t know—there’s just too little info to read in the script.”
“Oh.”
“I can’t interpret the character, so I wanted your advice.”
“You came to the right place.”
Jiho cleared his throat and asked,
“So you need a hint?”
“Yeah.”
“Just a moment...”
He took the script and stared at it with intense focus. Whenever it came to acting, he was a different person.
While I waited, I looked around his room. A mountain of vitamins his mom sent lay untouched, a mess. Old plushies from fans decorated his bed like the damned. If you played twenty questions, your first question would be “Is the owner human?”
Then I saw a huge stack of worn scripts. I pulled one—
Swoosh!
The pile collapsed in a dust cloud. Jiho shouted, “Aaargh! I had them organized!”
I teased, “Looks like trash.”
“These are organized, in my way!”
“I’ll clean up later...”
I muttered as I heard the hint I needed.
“Hyung’s right. Scripts usually give only fragmentary info. There really are few clues.”
“So...?”
“In that case, you have to infer several things from one clue.”
Jiho said,
“All acting starts with asking ‘why?’ See the scene where Agent K talks to the bosses?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s the key. If you interpret that scene correctly, you can nail this character.”
“Just checking—is there no single correct answer?”
He burst into giggles.
“There’s no one answer. You have to discover it yourself. Interpretation varies by actor—your focus determines your performance.”
“So I need my own interpretation.”
“That’s why acting is a profession~”
I looked at the script again. Scene 23. I had to interpret it myself. Jiho’s words gave me a thread to follow.
“Thanks.”
“No problem~”
“But Jiho.”
“Yes.”
“Sorry, but can you stop the ‘-여’ for now?”
“...”
“You’re mature, but it feels like I’ve lost my one-and-only maknae.”
Jiho smiled and said,
“Get out immediately.”
“Okay. Good night~”
I waved goodbye and left. My steps felt light. I thought I could do this.
That night, I returned to my room and immersed myself in character study until dawn.
“Hahaha! I finally have the hang of it!”
I heard from Seok-hwan hyung that they’d set the meeting date with the production company.
“Hohohohoho!”
“What’s up?”
“I’ve prepared perfectly for this audition. I’m definitely getting in.”
“An audition?”
“Yeah. An audition.”
Seok-hwan blinked.
“You mean audition?”
“Uh...?”
Then it hit me—something was off. It wasn’t an audition but a meeting, right?
“I don’t know what he’s talking about. You’re already in.”
“Huh?”
“They said thank you and practically stamped your contract on the spot. They wouldn’t stop urging you to come sign immediately.”
“I—I’m in...?”
...Even though I prepared for an audition?
