Gu Jaeyoung PD.
He is counted among the top variety-show star producers alongside Shin Murok PD of PBS’s Mister Producer.
Ask ordinary people to na a PD they know, and his na will be the first to co up.
“It’s been two years since we were here.”
“It has, hasn’t it?”
PD Gu Jaeyoung led us into the conference room. Just as in PBS’s variety division where Mister Producer held the largest room, this conference room was the largest space in TBC’s variety division.
The writers tapping away on laptops inside stood up.
“Oh my!”
“Hello!”
Although it had been two years, we recognized everyone’s nas at a glance.
“You’ve really changed since we last saw you.”
Co-director PD Oh Taejun was there, too, as was Writer Yang who recruited us based on the video of Junhyun fixing the pump, and Writer Han Juyeon, the junior writer who oversaw us as rookies back then.
“Writers, it’s been so long.”
“Hi!”
“And you’ve added more juniors, I see.”
She smiled warmly.
“One, you say? There are two of you.”
Following her gaze, we saw a pair of writers staring at us wide-eyed. We read their looks: NewBlack... NewBlack...
Unlike those who t us shortly after debut, these faces had seen us rise. Their gazes carried a different feeling.
“Hello!”
“Oh, hi!”
They sat as they greeted us, whispering to one another. From their lips we saw “daebak.”
Gathered around the table, a brief silence settled—as if we were all recalling the last two years.
“Wow...”
Our youngest spun in the chair, surveying the room.
“This feels really weird.”
“Haha!”
“Right? Walking into the very room felt strange...”
There was an indescribable subtle emotion in that mont, and we all exchanged sympathetic smiles. PD Oh Taejun laughed heartily.
“You’ve really made it big.”
“That’s true. Every ti we hear news, we’re surprised. These days they even call us the nation’s idol.”
We laughed.
“We’re surprised too.”
“Yeah. It still feels like a dream.”
“Since that Chuseok special two years ago, things really took off. After we appeared with Jusehan, we’ve had so many variety invites.”
That Chuseok special with Jusehan had expanded our variety footprint. It was the legendary Daegil chase episode.
At that, Writer Han said,
“It was you guys who did all the work. After you appeared, so many kids dread of being a second Daegil friend.”
Junhyun bead. We traded praise—No, you were great!—loosening the atmosphere.
We scanned Jusehan’s team conference room. Ri Hyuk said,
“So this is what it looks like.”
“Cool, right?”
“I was too nervous back then to notice.”
We rembered the main vocalist trembling beside us at the initial pre-eting. Ti truly is relative. Two years aren’t enough to graduate high school, but in the entertainnt world, a rookie’s status can completely change.
Proof lay in the ten people seated opposite us. When we first appeared with Jusehan, only one junior writer handled us.
We shared a mont of strange amusent with our mbers. PD Oh Taejun clasped his hands and laughed.
“Anyway, let’s shoot sothing fun together before you go. You have no idea how we’ve missed you.”
“Missed us?”
“The special forces episode, NewBlack TV—so many great concepts wasted on specials.”
We laughed at how they regretted not fully utilizing us. Writer Yang looked at PD Oh and said,
“Director Oh was so jealous. That special collab with Mister Producer and you guys was a massive hit.”
“Oh, the A10 special?”
“Yeah. He was green with envy.”
“When have I ever been jealous? Writer Yang, co on.”
PD Oh admitted he was just a little envious. To steer the conversation, I asked,
“So what exactly is this special?”
We received a copy of the proposal. It matched what had been discussed over calls—nothing majorly new. Brother Seokhwan had already coordinated much of it. PD Oh said,
“They said coback is soon?”
“About a month away.”
“Our team leader asked to remove any strenuous segnts. It won’t strain you.”
“Thank you.”
Judging by his expression, Brother Seokhwan had been very strict. It reminded of him bringing coffee daily begging for favor—life’s fortunes shift unpredictably.
“Our TF leader said you two will both gain a lot image-wise.”
Though Mister Producer briefly overtook them with an idol special, Jusehan remains the undisputed number-one variety show. Appearing on Jusehan after Mister Producer was a chance to cent our public image.
After the rustle of pages, PD Gu asked,
“Everyone read it?”
“Yes.”
“Explaining it verbally is easier than reading. Let walk you through it again.”
We focused as he spoke.
“We’ll split shooting into three days, one day per segnt. The first two are prep days, and the content is exactly as written.”
“Selling food at a highway rest-stop?”
“Right.”
Taken aback at the ordinary format, we looked at PD Gu in understanding. He had the talent to make even a food-travel episode entertaining. Biju asked,
“Are we just selling food? No unicycling to attract custors or handstands?”
“Biju, you want to do that?”
“No. Hyung would.”
We laughed at my blinking and Biju’s chuckle. Jiho said,
“It’s been a while since we did such a wholeso format. We really just sell food?”
“Yeah. No need to force laughs.”
“Daebak... We might actually do great at this.”
PD Gu smiled.
“You guys are funny by just existing.”
“...”
“I an, that’s entertaining.”
Seeing us slump, he continued,
“The plan is simple. Our cast will bring one nu item each; you bring one too.”
“Our own nu, right?”
“Yes, sothing broadly liked across ages rather than sothing niche.”
“Got it—we’ve been preparing.”
Biju nodded eagerly. PD Gu checked the calendar.
“Next week Wednesday to Sunday is the five-day Chuseok holiday. We’ll operate on the fourth day.”
A basic outline ford in our minds: serve a al to people returning ho and judge which team’s nu was tastier. Satisfied, we answered our understanding, and the staff asked,
“Any ideas?”
“Oh yes!”
We shared ideas we’d brainstord from the proposal; they listened. Not everything was accepted, but a few fit their taste.
At the end of the eting, they handed us a TBC-branded selfie cam.
“With this, we shoot cooking?”
“Yeah.”
“Oho...”
Our eyes lit up.
“We’ll film it entertainingly.”
“No, no—just film it normally.”
They hurriedly protested.
In our dorm kitchen, we set up the selfie cam to capture only the counter and appliances, then started recording.
“One, two, three!”
“Hello viewers! NewBlack is on Jusehan!”
“Waaah!”
I grabbed a danso and played a few notes; the crew synced a dance to Biju’s moves. I clapped and said,
“We’re back after two years, right?”
“Yes!”
“It feels like yesterday we were guests on the Chuseok special, but it’s already been two years. So much nostalgia.”
“Yeah!”
“We’re giving this special our all...”
As we rattled off the script, sothing struck .
“Hey, why am I MCing?”
“Huh?”
“Is this how we’re supposed to film it?”
“Right?”
“Habits are terrifying. I almost got swept away.”
The staff wanted us casually cooking while chatting “uwaaang,” so we switched gears. I pointed the cam at Biju, who stood by the induction stove reviewing a recipe on the tablet.
“Hello, Biju.”
“Hello!”
“What are you preparing?”
“I’m making kimchi jjigae.”
“Oh...”
“Since it’s a highway rest-stop, many folks will co by, so I chose a safe nu.”
We watched Biju consider ingredients. Jiho said,
“Biju hyung, it’s tough doing it alone! Let us help!”
“I’m fine.”
“Here we co, juniors!”
Junhyun picked up a chef’s knife with a solemn face and started slicing pork... Wait, he’s just chopping the board again. Biju rubbed his neck. Ri Hyuk set a pot on the scale and added water.
“Ah...”
He scooped water with a spoon, so I asked,
“What’s wrong?”
“The recipe says 550 milliliters, but I put in 554.”
“...”
The thought “He can’t cook” rose to my throat, then fell back down. I glanced at Jiho, who shouted support by waving both hands to EDM. Biju’s face turned serene, Buddha-like.
One minute later, we gathered at the corner, hands folded, standing at attention.
“We’re sorry.”
“We won’t step out of line...”
“It’s not about stepping out.”
The juniors bowed under our stern gaze. I slipped behind Biju; the others trailed my lead. Pausing the recording, I asked,
“Are you unhappy with the recipes?”
“Huh?”
“You look troubled.”
Biju frowned in thought. The youngest peeked in.
“Why worry? Whatever hyung makes, people will go ‘uwaaang,’ right?”
“Maybe because it’s ant to sell.”
Biju explained,
“Ho cooking uses premium ingredients and care, but this is comrcial.”
“Volu is the issue?”
“Yes, must be able to make large batches.”
He needed to adapt ho recipes into mass-service dishes within budget, easy to cook yet tasty. I saw a simple solution.
“Shall I help?”
“Hyung?”
“I’m my grandma’s restaurant grandson.”
The juniors’ eyes lit up:
“Restaurant grandson...!”
“...”
“Ha ha ha!”
They laughed, and I cleared my throat.
“When selecting a nu, Grandma always said: if you master one of these two dishes, the restaurant will never fail.”
“What are they?”
“Tonkatsu and jeyuk bokkeum.”
The juniors nodded in agreent. Biju’s /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ eyes sparkled.
“Great choices. They’re safe and scalable.”
“Right?”
I called the juniors over.
“Gather round.”
I looked at Ri Hyuk.
“Which episode is this?”
“It’s a special, episode 387.”
“From now, I convene the 387th family eting. Topic: nu selection. Options: tonkatsu or jeyuk. Vote. I prefer jeyuk.”
By unanimous vote, jeyuk bokkeum won. Simple reasoning: frying tonkatsu in hot oil is risky, and we’re all chickens.
“Tonkatsu’s out. Junhyun might spill the oil.”
“I’m not that clumsy.”
No one believed him. We turned the cara back on, emptied the fridge.
“Hyung, can you do the seasoning?”
“Sure.”
“But I learned pork bulgogi...”
“It’s similar, so it’ll be fine.”
“Well, let’s give it a try.”
While donning gloves, I called Grandma Kim Deoksun on video.
Click.
“What?”
“Deoksun! Oh my Deoksun!”
“What nonsense are you up to?”
Click.
The call cut off, and the juniors doubled over laughing. I called again.
“Grandma! You can’t just hang up!”
“This is too noisy.”
I explained our show and asked if we could use her recipe without revealing ingredients.
“Go ahead. What’s special about it? Another weird TV show?”
“Yes, we’re filming it now.”
“I see.”
Her disinterest lted when I showed the cara the bowl.
“Look, I’m cooking.”
“Show .”
She lost her protest and watched my every move. I flashed a grin.
“I’m amazing, right?”
“How do you never forget anything? Amazing.”
I tapped V signs, happily seasoning. Her praise made my feet want to tap dance.
anwhile Biju asked,
“What if we adjust the ratio? It might increase sweetness.”
“That’s good too.”
Whereas I follow recipes literally, Biju could visualize improvents. We tweaked grandma’s recipe into a more addictive version.
“Heh heh heh!”
At last our nu was ready.
“It’s really delicious....”
“If this were near school, I’d eat it every day.”
“Incredible...”
Junhyun tasted a spoonful and exclaid, as though a green CGI droplet burst. Then he kept scooping.
Our new dish was more addictive, though less healthy, than Grandma’s original.
“I’ve got a great na for it.”
Ri Hyuk explained, and we applauded. The na fit perfectly—a na that would elicit admiration from staff and viewers alike.
“Totally daebak!”
“Seriously daebak!”
As we praised ourselves, Biju said,
“Hyung.”
“Yes?”
“Didn’t we forget to tell Grandma we’re on Jusehan?”
“Right.”
He shrugged.
“Well, it’ll be fine.”
He emailed the staff our nu details.
TBC studios, Jusehan team conference room.
“Puh-huh!”
A writer typing on a laptop burst into laughter. First a snort, then full-blown giggles. The head writer asked,
“What’s so funny?”
The writer turned the laptop screen. The staff leaned in.
An email detailed NewBlack’s planned dish, accompanied by a photo of us beaming around a platter of bulgogi baekban. Under cute captions:
[Heehee (ᵔᗜᵔ*) Our new nu...!]
[This baby’s na is... Newbulbaek!]
They all laughed at the adorable naming.
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