“While we were eating, I glanced over at Chairman Park Taejun filling his plate.
It was the most awkward sight.
Like watching Rihyuk struggle to deadlift a barbell.
“Why attack soone who’s just standing there?”
“It’s just that it’s such a rare sight.”
I thought Mrs. Kim Deoksun would handle herself more deftly at a buffet.
Putting that aside, Chairman Park and his entourage approached our table, plates in hand, and I rose to greet him.
“Hello! We’re NewBlack.”
I bowed politely to one of the biggest power players in Korean entertainnt, and he bead in return.
“Are you enjoying your al?”
“Yes!”
“I ca up here both to eat and to see your faces, since I heard NewBlack was visiting our company.”
As his hearty laughter rang out, Jiho and Rihyuk giggled and bowed their heads. Taehyun, trying to hold back his own laughter, slipped in with a teasing grin.
“Chairman, don’t forget about ~”
“Oh, our Taehyun! I’ve been watching you since you arrived—you’ve been shining from afar.”
“You must be shining because you saw the chairman~”
“Oh my~! Our little cutie~!”
As Chairman Park fawned over him, the staff behind chuckled on cue. Everyone tried to hold back laughter, cheeks twitching.
“Taehyun is the mainstay of our company.”
“Oh, mainstay—no, no. Everything here is thanks to the chairman. That mainstay.”
“Wahaha!”
“Ha ha ha!”
The owner and the mainstay complinted each other like ladies at a duchess’s tea party—hardly from the heart.
—“I made this position for you, kid!”
—“I earned it with my skill, you fool!”
If thought bubbles floated above them, that’s what you’d see.
Junghyun marveled, “You two really get along.”
Chairman Park turned to him, laughed, and suddenly held out his hand.
“Nice to et you, Junghyun!”
“Yes, sir.”
When Junghyun shook his hand gingerly, the middle-aged chairman jumped as if zapped by a taser.
“Ugh—!”
“Oh, sorry! You looked sturdy, so I thought it’d be okay.”
“Oh ho... young folks have strength! Wahahaha!”
As his hand turned red, the entourage laughed again. I made a ntal note to acquire that kind of power soday.
“It’s strange seeing you in person instead of on screen. You’re tall and handso! Wahahaha!”
“Thank you.”
He then turned his attention to my brothers.
“And Rihyuk here, renowned for his vocals.”
“Thank you.”
“And Biju... every ti I see him, I want him on my label. Why didn’t you audition for TJ Ent. before going to Lemon Ent.?”
That sounded genuine—he clearly loved Biju’s spectacular performances.
“Thank you.”
Biju bowed with a friendly smile.
When Chairman Park’s gaze fell on Jiho, whose eyes sparkled, he continued.
“And Jiho...”
“Yes!”
“...you’re... healthy!”
“Oh... yes, thank you...”
He hadn’t thought of the right complint fast enough. I struggled to suppress a laugh at the maknae gazing dreamily toward the windowsill; Biju gently patted his back.
As his friendly banter continued, my brothers smiled politely—though they looked a bit dazed at how well they all seed to know each other. Chairman Park, a legendary figure in the idol world, made every complint feel special—from 1990s trends to today’s TNT.
After all, he’d created half the biggest idol hits in the industry.
“And... Uju, it’s been a while since I saw you!”
“Hello, Chairman.”
“I heard you stopped by the building before, but t Director Han then?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
I caught the eye of Executive Director Han Youngjun standing behind the chairman. I smiled and nodded. One had kicked out, the other delivered the news—neither the friendliest faces. But six years later, it felt neutral.
Chairman Park laughed heartily. “Good to see you doing well.”
(Translation: Sorry for ousting you.)
I smiled back. “What I learned here helped a lot.”
(Translation: I haven’t forgotten.)
“Is that so! Wahahaha!”
We exchanged warm laughter.
As Chairman Park’s laughter trailed off, I heard him inwardly grumble, ‘Not so easy, are you?’
He’d just witnessed Sun Woo-ju’s flawless, respectful smile—like a Joseon scholar’s reverent bow. Yet inside, he thought, ‘What a kid...’
He’d planned to probe and charm, but Uju’s smile had no cracks for his needle.
“I hear you’re here today to work on Taehyun’s solo album—please take good care of him.”
(Translation: Let’s stay close going forward.)
“Thank you for your support. I’ll see it through.”
(Translation: That’s the end of it.)
Chairman Park’s worry deepened. He’d co to our table mainly because of Sun Woo-ju—the industry’s top-level composer. He recalled watching Mister Producer.
“He made those nobodies into idols with one song.”
His talent for pinpointing a singer’s charm and crafting optimal songs had every major label drooling. But money couldn’t buy Uju.
Even if he offered him a fortune, this asset wasn’t for sale—especially since Uju belonged to another group and command of copyrights ant even more earnings.
If only we’d had him all along... but it was too late.
Still, he was a stock worth buying now—his trajectory would keep soaring for the next decade. If TJ artists got songs from Sun Woo-ju, it’d be a jackpot.
“I heard the song you wrote for Taehyun—it’s truly him.”
(Translation: How about writing for others?)
“It was a concept I’d had since trainee days—sothing I promised back then. Haha.”
(Translation: Really, I’m not for sale.)
Chairman Park, after sizing us up, decided to retreat.
“Oh dear, we should eat. Enjoy your al!”
“Yes!”
“If you need anything, let know. Here’s my business card...”
He pulled out his card. As the NewBlack mbers cheered, Sun Woo-ju accepted it respectfully.
“Thank you. I’ll contact you.”
“Alright. Wahaha!”
He laughed heartily and moved on, card in hand—then, as soon as his back was to us, his smile vanished.
“Ugh.”
Chairman Park glanced back at NewBlack.
“What are those kids, anyway?”
Behind Uju’s polite smile stood ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) four mbers striking casual poses. Each ti he greeted Uju, they shrugged and grinned—Taehyun among them. Their carefree laughter irked him.
“Did he always smile so brightly?”
“I don’t know—we hardly see him these days. But he seems especially cheerful today.”
Director Han replied. Chairman Park nodded and continued on.
“Anyway, support Taehyun’s solo work well. Treat him with every courtesy.”
“Yes, sir.”
“He’s soone we must keep close.”
While not fully convinced, Chairman Park felt NewBlack would rise even higher. After talking with them, he saw their group structure: each mber contributing talent, with the leader making calls. No wonder they’d thrived two years without scandal.
They were destined for greatness.
As Chairman Park’s entourage departed, Junghyun declared, “We need fresh food—we’ve been sitting too long.”
“Let’s do that.”
We stood, and our plates had gone cold. Junghyun’s eyes widened.
“Are we throwing this away?”
“Yep.”
“Then leave your plates—I'll finish it.”
“You should just get a new plate.”
“No way. If you discard edible food, heaven says no.”
With that, he held out his hand to the others.
Rihyuk asked, “What’s this?”
“Let’s dole out divine punishnt.”
“I see.”
Taehyun, Jiho, and Biju extended their hands.
“If you don’t, we play rock-paper-scissors—loser gets the divine punishnt!”
“Neowah!”
Our Tomato Unit drew the short straw. While they refilled their plates, Taehyun, grabbing a steak, whispered to , “Why skirt the question? I’d just ask outright for songs.”
“That’d be too blunt.”
“I know, but this dancing around feels off.”
He quietly laughed as we returned to our seats and finished eating.
“Hyung, is this all-you-can-eat?”
“Yes.”
“Did you hear? It’s unlimited refills!”
TJ Ent.’s cafeteria was heaven. Each ti we returned plates and piled on fresh food, the staff laughed. Then shyly approached for photos.
“Can we take a picture?”
“Sure!”
They snapped V-signs with us or had us sign scraps of paper—trying to make the most of the mont. Most were new faces; trainee days mainly brought us into contact with NPD staff, and people didn’t stay long at the agency.
Still, whenever we recognized soone, we greeted warmly. From afar, I watched those who quietly returned plates and left. I thought they looked familiar, and Taehyun said, “They’re from the planning team.”
“Oh.”
I greeted them, and they nodded bashfully before disappearing.
Junghyun teased, “Nice digestion expression, hyung.”
“That’s the ‘joy’ or ‘delight’ face, Junghyun.”
After our mini fan et, we left the cafeteria and followed Taehyun to the TJ café. I’d heard their ice cream and sandwiches were famous, so we ordered plenty for the crew.
“That’ll be 279,000 won with the discount.”
“Discount?”
“Yes—artists under TJ get a discount, and we applied it for NewBlack too.”
My brothers and I stared wide-eyed.
“Unbelievable... We got celeb discounts! We’ve always paid full price for everything!”
“Epic. Get a pic of that receipt!”
“Hold up—I’m turning on SNOW!”
As we fumbled with photos, Taehyun stepped back, head in hands, and the café staff erupted in laughter.
“Why do I end up embarrassed?”
“My heart goes out to the mbers who feel secondhand embarrassnt.”
“Oh, Rihyuk.”
Taehyun grinned and bumped fists with him.
“ESTJs and ISTJs really click.”
“....”
“Ugh, you said you hate zodiac and blood-type personality stuff.”
Rihyuk cleared his throat, and Jiho teased, “It’s ’cause he’s a Cancer.”
“That’s pseudoscience!”
We watched our little blood-type battle over ice cream. We also tried a slice of TNT’s bomb-shaped chocolate cake—calories practically glowed before my eyes.
After reviewing for MiTube, we stood.
“Shall we get to work?”
“Yes.”
I stretched and looked at my brothers.
“Heehee-hit!”
“Kya-ha!”
Could I really leave them here? At least Biju was with them—but he was one of us too. Worried, I spoke up.
“Guys—don’t go causing trouble here...”
“Hyung, when we work...”
We spoke over each other. Signaling them to go ahead, they chid in unison,
“Uju hyung, rember A&R staff are people too—always treat them right!”
“We live together in this world, after all.”
“Just ’cause there are no guns like in the U.S. doesn’t an we can slack off—no grudges!”
“If we can’t play nice, we’ll co back after we make sure they can’t return fire—okay, hyung?”
As Taehyun laughed clutching his belly, I simply smiled, nodded, and said okay to going moderately. Biju reassured ,
“Don’t worry—nothing weird. Promise.”
“....”
“Let’s go! Hyung!”
Their bright eyes begged to trust them. I turned to Taehyun.
“Is there nowhere to leave them? A kids’ café nearby?”
“There’s a TJ Kids Language Academy close by—but that’s a different TJ. The director’s Kim Taejin, I think.”
“Thanks for nothing.”
I laughed, and the maknae bead.
“You’re hesitating ’cause you don’t want to leave us, right?”
“Yes.”
I was anxious about what mischief they might get into at TJ Ent. Rihyuk quipped,
“I didn’t know we were so untrustworthy.”
“If you’re in danger, who would you call?”
“Are you crazy? 119 or 112, of course.”
Not wrong. Ultimately, I had to leave them—they wouldn’t learn if I hovered.
“Biju, don’t send Junghyun alone to the restroom. Jiho, no touching glass. Rihyuk, don’t break the mood by suddenly reading...”
“Kyaah! Kya!”
They weren’t listening. Unsure if I was making the right choice, I waved goodbye.
—“It’s our world now~!”
From afar, I heard Jiho’s cheer. Worried, I glanced back, and Taehyun tapped my shoulder with a grin.
“Let’s get to work, hyung.”
“Let’s go.”
We rode the elevator to the fourth floor.
“These are the new studios...”
Han Mo-ssi, bursting with excitent, guided us. We tapped keycards twice to enter the Producing Team hallway. Astonished by the entire floor of studios, I followed Taehyun to a conference room.
We’d discuss key points with A&R and Producing before recording “Survivor.”
“Hello.”
“Oh, hello!”
Spotting snacks and drinks on the main table, the TJ staff rose and smiled—yet their expressions were tense, as if facing a monster.
Just as I prepared to explain the misunderstanding, I noticed them crowded around a laptop. Taehyun asked for ,
“What were you watching?”
“Oh, we were watching you on that show, Uju.”
They’d been watching Mister Producer. I laughed, ready to clarify, “That’s exaggerated TV—”
But they turned the laptop toward with a hint of fear in their eyes. On screen, Ujuseon bled onto the stage, snarling at the Nostalgia staff.
Taehyun burst out laughing:
—“This is Korean Spirit.”
Our eyes t, and I shook my head vigorously.
“No! That’s not at all what happened.”
But the more I protested, the more they stared at as if I were a scary myth. Well—looks like I failed to make a good first impression.
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