The studio was a jungle of tangled cables and scattered filming equipment.

“Hello! We are NewBlack!”

I greeted the Korean staff and then the Japanese staff who were here to help with today’s shoot.

Greetings and laughter echoed back from all around.

I made my way past the staff setting up the lights and sat down at the table in the very center of the studio.

Soon, the makeup artists approached to touch up my makeup.

“Woojoo, your lips.”

“Oh, right.”

I applied the lipstick handed to me and hummed a trot song.

“Dress up~ Dress up~ A cheerful song~”

The makeup artists and my younger siblings burst into laughter.

The youngest teased, “You sound like an old person.”

“Not at all~ I’m young~”

“That’s right~”

“That’s just what you think~”

We exchanged playful banter, humming the tune and bobbing our shoulders to the rhythm.

I rode the wave with my shoulders, smoothly passing the motion down to my fingertips, signaling to Bijoo.

“It’s your turn.”

Bijoo accepted with a gentle smile.

The wave that started at my left fingertips drew a graceful curve to my right, and then the younger members took their turns, passing it along.

The makeup artists watched our exchange, admiringly commenting, “You guys look like…”

“Like what?”

“Like five octopuses caught in a net.”

We all burst into hearty laughter and clapped our hands.

After finishing the makeup for recording, we exchanged glances with the members.

“Ready for the broadcast’s energy?”

“Fully equipped!”

We joked and danced, feeling uplifted and smiling.

We were ready to record.

While reading the script that outlined the flow of the broadcast, the writers from ‘Kiwoom Production’ approached.

“Hello.”

“Hi there!”

We exchanged handshakes with smiles.

“Long time no see, how have you been?”

“Indeed.”

The writers, who were smiling as they shook hands, were from ‘Kiwoom Production,’ the team in charge of today’s shoot.

They had previously worked with us on Season 1 of ‘History Explorers,’ a children’s educational program produced by HBS.

I asked cautiously, “How have you been lately?”

“Cutting ties with them actually made things easier. We much prefer working with you.”

“That’s good to hear.”

I had heard that the response to Season 2 of ‘History Explorers,’ produced at the request of HBS, wasn’t great.

The production company was criticized for its lack of capacity and pressured to create content comparable to Season 1 of ‘History Explorers.’

Originally a producer of children’s educational programs, they seemed to struggle with the constant demands to create variety content for ‘MiTube.’

The stress was evident.

At the end of Season 1, everyone’s cheeks were plump from frequent dinners, but now they looked as thin as paper, just like Rihyuk.

“Paper? What am I?”

“Nothing. Never mind.”

“What did you just mutter?”

Pretending not to hear, I said to the writers, “Let’s make an enjoyable broadcast together, shall we?”

“Yes, let’s do that. It feels great to be working with you again after so long.”

After all the hardships caused by HBS, which even led to the cancellation of other program productions, our company and Kiwoom Production had signed a contract to produce MiTube content. ȐàŊȏβÈȘ

As the group known as New Black grew in popularity, they found themselves well-suited to creating content for Japanese TV, given their background in producing broadcast content.

The writers advised, “This time, you’ve decided to go for a serious tone, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct,” I replied.

“But don’t be too serious. It’s better to relax and take it easy,” they suggested, and I nodded in agreement.

Our new content for MTube, aimed at Japanese viewers, was intended to have a calm atmosphere, contrasting with the often aggressive and prank-filled nature of Japanese variety shows. Instead, we planned to showcase New Black’s musical talents through songs and talks.

After our discussion with the writers,

“Alright!” the producer clapped his hands, energizing the room. “Let’s give a cheer and start recording. Ready? One, two, three, New Black!”

“Fighting!” we cheered, clapping loudly.

With a soft smile, I faced the camera as its red light came on.

“Let’s be serious,” I thought to myself.

“Very serious.”

Suppressing a feeling of impending failure, I began, “Hello, viewers!”

“Nice to meet you. We are…!”

“New Black!”

We all stretched out our right hands and waved in greeting, then settled back into calm smiles.

“We’re excited to introduce our new channel, ‘The New Black: World,’” I announced.

“But why ‘World’?” Jiho asked.

Rihyuk replied, “You might be wondering, just like Jiho, what this is about. Think of it like those World channels you see on TV that target audiences across the seas.”

“Ah! That’s really useful information!”

After introducing the new channel,

“Given that today’s recording is for our international audience, we’ll be mixing Korean, Japanese, and other languages,” I explained.

“We apologize in advance to the production team who will be creating the subtitles,” I said with a bow, eliciting laughter from the crew.

The writers showed us a sign that read ‘Banner!’ on a sketchbook.

“We have a banner prepared for the opening celebration. Shall we unveil it?”

“Let’s count down. One, two…”

“Three!”

With a burst of gold confetti, the banner rolled down from the back of the studio.

Jung-hyun tilted his head. “Is that Japanese?”

“It’s Korean. You can see it if you look upside down.”

“Oh, really.”

The banner had been hung upside down, whether by mistake or not, causing a flurry among the staff.

Clapping my hands, I joked, “Wow, what a great start. I’ve heard that this is a sign of good luck on the internet.”

“It’s a sign of good luck!”

As the others agreed and applauded, Jiho asked, “But what does it say?”

“Hey, mister, try looking at it upside down,” Rihyuk nudged me.

With everyone watching expectantly, I tucked my shirt into my pants and sprang up from the floor. Seokhwan started to facepalm from a distance.

“Wow!”

I read the upside-down banner while standing on my head.

“Congratulations on the launch of New Black World. Wishing you great success. From all the New Black TV production team.”

“Wow, thank you!”

As my younger colleagues greeted the gesture, I stood up and flashed a ‘V,’ making the production team burst into laughter.

The staff quickly collected the banner, and we sat back down at the table.

“Shall we start the broadcast for real now? Today, we’re going to introduce ourselves, New Black!”

“The segment is called ‘Who are you?’”

At my signal, the studio filled with the harmonious sound of ‘Ba-bam!’ as my younger colleagues joined in.

I smiled brightly before returning to a serious expression to continue.

I suspected you might not know our names, so I wore this T-shirt under my jacket,” I said, pointing to the ‘No.5 Wang Jiho’ emblazoned across my chest as Jiho stood up, flaunting the logo on his black T-shirt.

The crowd erupted in applause, their faces alight with excitement. Even the production team nodded approvingly, a sign we were doing something right.

Taking my cue, I began my introduction, “I’m Woojoo, the leader, and I’m 22 years old.”

Immediately, there was an uproar.

“Look at him, acting all foreign and ditching the Korean age system. Suddenly he’s only counting his international age,” they teased.

“Woojoo is such a liar. He’s a walking tall tale,” another chimed in.

“Oh, here we go again,” I sighed, as Bijoo just smiled and shook his head without a word.

The trio, known for their constant teasing, quieted down when I mimed zipping my lips shut, a playful show of my ‘leader’s authority.’

“As you can see, being the leader comes with certain powers. I like hearing pleasant things, not so much the harsh truths,” I continued.

“Wow… you’re. So. Handsome,” they mocked.

“Yes, compliments like that, I do enjoy,” I admitted with a grin.

After wrapping up my introduction, it was time for the others to share theirs.

“I’m Bijoo, and I’m twenty years old…”

“I’m Kim Junghyun, twenty years old, but my heart is still nineteen,” they said, avoiding my gaze as I narrowed my eyes at them. They were quick to criticize, yet here they were, shaving a couple of years off their own ages.

Each member’s introduction was met with warm interjections, creating a friendly atmosphere.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Seori Hyuk, and I’m eighteen this year,” one of them said.

“Hyuk, that green shirt you’re wearing is really nice. What did you say it looked like, Woojoo?”

“I thought it was a grasshopper,” I joked.

“Huh? What’s a grasshopper?” they asked, puzzled.

“A friend of locusts,” I quipped, as Hyuk declared, “I’m the only sane one in this group,” while the rest of us hummed and swayed beside him.

Junghyun’s phone translator app blurted out ‘You’re a grasshopper,’ setting off a round of hearty laughter. The audio director, sitting at a distance, smiled benevolently like a monk amidst the chaos.

“Now, let’s properly introduce New Black,” I announced.

“We’ll take a look back at our journey through videos, with live performances in between,” Bijoo added.

We were set to introduce ourselves while revisiting the major highlights of the past two years.

“Let’s roll the video!” someone called out.

The first video popped up on the monitor, low resolution and all.

Our warm smiles turned to wide-eyed shock as we stared at the screen.

“No way…”

Our pupils dilated as if hit by an earthquake.

This wasn’t right.

The date ‘2013.12.28.’ flashed on the screen before shifting to a five-member group taking the stage.

“Wow…”

Despite the fresh-faced appearance, something about the outfits and makeup felt outdated.

The nervous trainees.

A banner reading ‘2013 Joint Year-End Evaluation’ caught our eye.

[One, two, three, hello! We are New Black!]

[Please introduce yourselves.]

[I’m trainee Sun Woojoo, turning twenty-two this year.]

Their introductions sounded like a child’s recitation, ‘I’m in 2nd grade, class 3, I’m so-and-so.’

We all turned to the production team, who were giving us thumbs up with proud smiles.

“…”

Where did they even find this footage? Our team leader’s proud smile was also in view.

“Ugh…”

“I can’t bear to watch this with my eyes open.”

Hyuk covered his face, leaving only his eyes visible.

Junghyun squinted, and Bijoo and Jiho leaned on my shoulder, trembling.

On the screen, the nervous trainees took their positions on stage.

Then came the trot music intro.

As the youngest member started singing with a cheesy smile, we all cringed.

“Aaaah!”

“I can’t see it at all!”

We all stomped our feet in frustration and screamed.

My face felt hot with embarrassment.

“…”

“…”

The awkwardness was palpable, and even my siblings averted their eyes, looking up at the ceiling.

I finally managed to speak.

“Uh, yes… well.”

“Well.”

“It really is the beginning of NewBlack…”

Our first performance under the name NewBlack was unforgettable, but for all the wrong reasons. It was a quality I hoped never to witness again.

We received applause back then. At that time, it seemed like we did well, but looking at it now, it was horrendously awful.

We screamed as we replayed the segments.

“…I really sang terribly back then. Oh, how embarrassing.”

“My self-written rap is so cringeworthy. Truly.”

“Dance… Was my dancing really like that?”

“Ugh, it’s the first time I’ve hated looking at my own face.”

Even the arrangement felt somewhat tacky.

I thought two years wouldn’t make much of a difference, but the gap was larger than I imagined.

Our vocal and dance skills were completely different.

The gap was so wide that I felt like Rihyuk now danced better than Bijou did back then.

Above all, the overall teamwork was different.

Unlike now, where we move as one entity on stage, back then, it felt like we were just roughly stuck together like clay.

Bijou said with a laugh,

“Maybe we should take it as a sign that we’ve grown that much?”

“Yeah, that’s right! Exactly!”

Everyone agreed.

If we had watched a video from two years ago and there was no significant difference compared to now, that would have been a real problem.

After commenting on the video and discussing the joint year-end evaluation,

“Alright! Let’s move on to the next video!”

“Anything would be better than this.”

The first music broadcast where I sang a duet with senior Jang Sowon, ‘Something,’ came on.

“…It’s not any better.”

We continued recording, desperately hiding our discomfort.

At the same time, I noticed something interesting.

“You can actually see the moments when our skills improve.”

“Really. There are such moments.”

Our skills gradually improved, then suddenly surged upward like steps.

The first was during the fireworks and night sea stage.

Thanks to touring the country with ‘Something,’ our vocals and stage manners had visibly improved.

The second was ‘Wind Flower.’

Competing on the show ‘Challenge, Song Masters’ against esteemed senior singers seemed to have boosted our skills significantly.

The third was ‘Nine.’

After our first concert at the handball stadium, I felt another leap in our abilities.

“Wow…”

Just when I thought there wouldn’t be any more drastic improvements,

“Huh…?”

I caught sight of a recent performance in Ulleungdo and the first show of the Kobe concert.

There was a noticeable difference from the previous videos.

Had our vocal skills advanced to the next level?

At first, I thought it was thanks to the world tour, but that wasn’t it.

Rihyuk asked,

“Don’t you think there’s a huge difference before and after the small theater tour?”

“You’re right.”

We monitored ourselves every day, so we didn’t notice the gradual changes, but there was a difference before and after the small theater tour.

There was progress in technique, but more importantly, it was about the depth of emotion in our vocals.

It had become deeper and richer.

We shared a strange feeling as we compared the first and last performances of ‘Winter Sleep.’

We were happy to have improved. It felt rewarding to see the fruits of our practice.

And we were pleased to have gained something from a project that started as fan service.

It was an emotion hard to express in words, so we all just exchanged looks without saying anything.

“Shall we try singing it live?”

“Play the music, please,” I requested, and soon after, I took the microphone and sang “Winter Sleep.”

As the main vocalist led us with a smooth voice, we sang as if leaving fresh footprints in the snow. I could feel my performance improving with every note.

The staff, who had been bustling around, fell silent during our song, captivated by the melody. As the song neared its end, the studio filled with the sound of everyone’s pent-up breaths being released.

“That was good,” they said, one after another, and I nodded in gratitude to the staff’s applause.

As I sat down and replayed our most recent performance, I was struck by a strange emotion.

“One, two, three, hello! We are New Black!”

“Please introduce yourselves.”

“I am Seon Woojoo, a trainee about to turn twenty-two.”

After the latest video ended, the first one automatically played again.

“Aaack!”

The camera captured us running away in good spirits.

In a studio on the outskirts of Tokyo, the middle-aged singer Maeda Shin entered a shabby warehouse building with his manager.

“Wow.”

From the bright lights to the filming equipment, the exterior was rundown, but the interior was surprisingly glamorous.

While the manager chatted, I looked around curiously.

“It’s amazing. They produce online broadcasts with this?”

I was here today to participate in a music broadcast hosted by New Black, inspired by a Korean music café program.

I didn’t know much about it.

The reason for my appearance was simple.

“You’re free, right? Go on over there.”

“Me?”

“If you’ve got nothing else, join the young folks’ broadcast as a guest.”

“Me? I don’t have much going on, but…”

“That’s settled then. Off you go.”

…It was a warm invitation from the trot singer Baek Sang-gyo, with whom I was close enough to consider a brother.

I had heard it would be good to appear on the show, but that was all the information I had.

“I’ll find out when I get there.”

Lately, unless it was a year-end stage, broadcasters weren’t calling me much, so what did it matter where I went?

As I scratched my beard, the manager returned from talking with the on-site staff.

“They’re recording a scene for the opening logo, so they’ve asked us to wait a bit.”

“Can I watch?”

“Yes, it seems alright.”

I was led to where New Black was filming.

Under the dazzling lights, a five-member group with radiant beauty was performing.

“Hooh…”

I had searched for their videos and, just like in them, the young men were astonishingly handsome.

Their appearance alone was enough to warm the heart.

Their singing talent was unmatched for their age, and their voices rolled smoothly like marbles.

“Is that a piano performance?”

The leader of New Black closed his eyes and took a deep breath before placing his hands on the piano keys.

“Come to think of it, isn’t he the son of Seon Myeong-joo?”

As I wondered about his piano skills, he began the opening with a glissando…

“Ouch!”

…but it seemed he caught his fingernail.

Crying out in pain, the leader flapped his hand, and then a member with a gentle demeanor handed him something.

Out came the nail clippers.

Clip, clip.

While the camera captured the scene of him trimming his nails for the glissando, everyone burst into laughter.

Maeda Shin was taken aback.

“Huh? They film even this? No, this won’t be in the broadcast opening.”

Doubts about the serious broadcast format I had imagined began to creep in when the members of New Black noticed me and bowed.

I awkwardly returned the gesture, bowing my head in response.

Filming resumed, and the leader of New Black smoothly pressed the keys from high to low notes, like a glissando sliding down the piano.

“Ah…”

Amidst the pleasant melody that flowed,

A member with a cool demeanor began to sing in Korean, his hands reaching out with a solemn expression as if starting an opera.

“Welcome to the world of New Black—”

As I blinked and watched,

The members added their voices one by one, ‘Ahhh~’ like an opera choir, exuding a sacred aura.

With each note, the sound grew more and more holy.

“Welcome to the world of New Black—”

“Welcome—”

“You can’t leave now~”

The production team clapped their hands with a ‘Clap! Clap!’ as if to say, ‘That’s it.’

It felt like attending a gathering of the Church of New Black.

With the clapping, the melody of “You can’t leave~ You can’t leave~” began to echo in my ears.

“What is this place, exactly…?”

Maeda Shin began to step back.

It was clear that he had stepped into some strange place.

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