When the TNT mbers stared in shock, the mouths on the JuSeHan mbers’ posters opened.
“Hello.”
“...Uh, hello.”
Stunned, the TNT mbers sprang to their feet. Han Tae-hyun, breathing hard in surprise, pointed at the posters.
“...What are you doing?”
“Looking at the guests.”
Yeo Hee-yeon’s poster said.
A muffled thumping echoed—soone inside was tapping the wall with their hand, proving the space was hollow.
“I wondered what we’d do while waiting for guests, and Jiho suggested hiding back here.”
“We’re sorry~! Sunbaenim, did we scare you?”
“Yes....”
Giggles and chuckles ca from all the posters as Han Tae-hyun and the other two managed nervous laughs. Han teased,
“You really startled us. We’ve got the weakest nerves.”
“That’s why Wooju hyung strongly recomnded it~! He said Taehyun sunbaenim’s reaction would be hilarious~!”
“....”
Han Tae-hyun’s gaze went to Wooju’s poster. It was just a wall, yet sohow you could feel it flinch.
Han chuckled.
“Hyung.”
“Yes...?”
“Let’s see how this goes...later.”
“But honestly, since I recomnded this plan, maybe our seniors got more screen ti?”
“You’re shaless.”
“Yes. Hiding behind a wall makes brave. If you like, sunbaenim, co in.”
That tongue of his... Realizing he couldn’t win an argunt, Han Tae-hyun gazed off, and the others laughed at their banter.
Ji Han-bin then dusted his butt and approached the kiosk.
“So what do we do here? Just choose what to eat?”
“Not exactly.”
Wooju’s poster explained.
“We’re forecasting demand before full service—seeing which nu people prefer.”
“So personal preference...?”
“Just pick what you like. We’re serving both anyway.”
“I see.”
TNT’s mbers tapped their choices: Han Tae-hyun—cutlet; Ji Han-bin—pork bul-baek; Seok Ji-hoon—cutlet.
Once they’d chosen, a door in the partition opened and Song Jin-woo, the Yeo siblings, and NewBlack erged.
“Hey guys~!”
When Wooju stepped out, wiping sweat and beaming, the TNT mbers’ slight annoyance lted into smiles. A pleasant voice greeted them.
“You’re here?”
As Wooju high-fived them, they handed out envelopes.
“What’s this?”
“Chuseok gifts. Tomorrow’s Chuseok, so we couldn’t co empty-handed.”
TNT’s mbers then gave a present to each NewBlack and JuSeHan mber. As they moved inside to gift the veteran actors and other JuSeHan cast,
“Here.”
Wooju rifled through a bag in the corner and offered three more envelopes.
“I thought you might need these.”
“Oh....”
He gripped the mic and whispered,
“You’ve looked tired on TV. I packed little things that might help.”
“Thanks, hyung.”
“Oh... I was going to buy one of these myself.”
Though it was a variety show, it felt warm and friendly—maybe the holiday spirit, or the weight of entering our seventh year and feeling the fatigue.
“We should greet the teachers. Let’s go.”
Seeing those familiar faces made happy. As we spoke, Yeo Hee-yeon and Yeo Hee-chan took ten-thousand-won bills from their pockets and handed them to Wooju.
Han Tae-hyun asked, “What’s this? A bet?”
“Yeah. I said I could guess which nu you’d choose.”
“...”
“Heh, not bad.”
NewBlack’s leader cheered, “Minions! Snack money earned!” shaking the twenty-thousand won, and everyone laughed.
“Still the sa.” Even in serious monts, he was still that carefree hyung.
When TNT settled at the counter tables facing the kitchen:
“Alright, the JuSeHan×NewBlack ‘Let’s Do Business’ tasting test—our first guests are TNT!”
“The top Hallyu idols, right?”
Echoing JuSeHan’s intro, we joined in.
“That’s right. No trainee ever practices without TNT’s songs.”
“Ahh....”
“They’re seniors I really respect....”
“Um.”
Ji Han-bin cut in.
“Yes?”
“Please don’t call sunbaenim. It’s awkward.”
“But if I don’t, viewers might say he’s rude.”
“Then I’ll say it.”
Ji Han-bin faced the cara:
“Excuse . I’ve known this hyung since we were trainees, so ‘sunbaenim’ feels weird.”
“True.”
“It is awkward.”
Han Tae-hyun nodded while gulping water. I laughed.
“So casually...?”
“Casually! Please!”
Buoyed by cheers, we switched to informal speech. Teacher Yang Ok-boon, preparing the cutlet coating, asked,
“Are you close?”
“Yes, we saw each other a lot as trainees.”
“No wonder—you exchanged gifts earlier. If you weren’t here, we wouldn’t have gotten ours.”
“No, really.”
Taehyun said, “We actually prepared gifts for everyone.”
“But your bag looked heavy.”
“...Only looks heavy.”
He answered shalessly, and everyone laughed. While prepping bul-baek ingredients, JuSeHan and we had light chat with TNT. Biju, cutting vegetables to a rhythm, asked,
“Since it’s the holiday, will you go ho?”
“Woah, careful with the knife... I’m busy. We have a lot to do, so I’ll visit afterward.”
Taehyun grinned, “Being able to work during Chuseok is a blessing.”
Everyone laughed. Not going ho for Chuseok was shared here—but positive: being busy ans demand for us entertainers.
Na Mi-ri, the codienne, pulled out an egg and asked, “You’re here because of Wooju?”
“Oh, not just that.”
Taehyun laughed, “We’re here to promote our album—JuSeHan invited us.”
“I’m out with a mixtape.”
“I have a new drama, and Jiho texted to appear.”
Had they grown closer? I recalled Ji-hoon getting my number after caoing in Slip. Jiho gave an enthusiastic yes and high-fived Ji-hoon.
Song Jin-woo glanced at : “Now that those two are close, Wooju’s on guard, huh?”
“Well....”
I explained, “When my acquaintances bond, it’s over trash-talking , so I stay cautious.”
“That’s true.”
“You already said so much. Jiho said it’s tough.”
“I know the trainee-days wardrobe story you wanted hidden... umph!”
Jiho’s mouth was clamped shut and the subject changed.
“Seriously, you never cooked for .”
I glared. “I’m hurt. I invited you all to cook because I wanted to.”
“You only cook because of variety shows. You never cooked when we asked, right?”
“Surely once....”
I searched my mory but ca up empty. I turned away.
“What matters is now.”
“You really never cooked for —even living together as trainees, you refused.”
“Wow, that’s an.”
My siblings jumped in eagerly.
“I tried everything to get a ho al.”
“Why?”
Song Jin-woo asked; Ji-hoon looked away. “The one al he did cook....”
“A al?”
“It was so delicious....”
Everyone laughed as Ji-hoon said earnestly, “Trainee als are cafeteria or local restaurants. Ho cooking was rare, but hyung was a master.”
“Wooju cooks that well?”
“Yes, I was good.”
Perhaps from childhood lessons to help Grandma, or the restaurant-owner grandson DNA, I had so talent. As I praised myself...
“....”
My second brother—always in charge of cooking—gave a chilly look. ‘Hyung, so good....’ I peeled an apple and fed it to Biju, then refocused. Taehyun marveled,
“Wow....”
“Why?”
“I've never seen soone cook so quietly.”
“....”
I laughed, “Taehyun.”
“Yes?”
“Have so water.”
Everyone laughed. Taehyun looked baffled.
“I can’t speak?”
“Sorry, but this is our restaurant.”
“But I’m the custor—must I get permission to speak? I’ve seen weird places.”
He moved to the cutlet, muttering bul-baek was too cheap. As he slid his chair closer, I raised an eyebrow.
“You said you won’t eat?”
“...I changed my mind.”
Laughing at his drawn-in by the bul-baek aroma look, we began the tasting. Each TNT mber got two plates. Han-bin asked,
“Can I take a photo?”
“Sure.”
I made a V-sign in front of the dish. TNT waved chopsticks.
“Your shadow’s in the shot. Move.”
“You’re too self-conscious, hyung. Not everyone wants your photo.”
“...Pfft.”
As Ri Hyuk giggled, everyone laughed, and I stepped back. Then I asked,
“You ca as my friends—which side are you on?”
“We’re doing this because we’re close.”
The seventh-year idols straightened up and readied their variety reactions—but the mont they tasted cutlet and NewBul-baek, their faces were full of exclamation.
“Amazing....”
Ji Han-bin covered his mouth: “This is insane!”
“A blockbuster...?”
“Wow....”
After calling each other “blockbuster,” they devoured the food. We and JuSeHan high-fived. Our first guests were a hit.
“Cutlet—where did you get this sauce? It tastes like that legendary local cutlet place.”
“The bul-baek is insane. Grandma’s recipe?”
They gave top marks. After the survey and so questions, TNT rubbed their bellies.
“I ate so well....”
“It was so good. This is a blockbuster.”
“How about selling just one nu? Half bul-baek, half cutlet—great spicy balance.”
Taehyun suggested rging nus. “Perfect—eting hyungs over Chuseok and eating well. Feels like a Seoul holiday.”
As TNT prepared to leave, I called,
“Before you go, you must do the dishes.”
“....”
“This is self-service.”
The three groaned, carried plates to the sink, and started washing. Clatter—dropping dishes—Jiho laughed in solidarity. Junhyun dashed to help amid Ok-boon teacher’s playful scolding.
“Oh?”
A new guest arrived. While the idols fussed over dishes, Hallyu actor Lee Gyeon-woo, radiant, entered. Everyone welcod him. He’d joined us two years ago on the JuSeHan Chuseok special.
“Oh... a guest.”
Our shy actor’s eyes brightened at seeing the TNT mbers. Yeo Hee-chan greeted, “Hyungnim, you’re here?”
“Yeah, made it.”
As they chatted, TNT returned, wiping sweat, and sat down.
“You’re not leaving?”
“After the dishes, I’m hungry. Can I have another bowl?”
“Of course.”
Teacher Ok-boon nodded. “You really are Wooju’s friends.”
“Huh?”
As everyone marveled at TNT’s appetite, cutlet and NewBul-baek appeared before Lee Gyeon-woo. With fifteen sets of eyes, he hesitated.
“I... can’t eat when people stare.”
“Okay, let’s all look up.”
I said, and they looked up. The Hallyu star coughed on chili flakes and flushed while drinking water. He seed to smile.
During filming, I checked the clock. Soon more guests would arrive.
“Shall we get ready?”
“Yes.”
While chopping ingredients, I t a distant gaze—JuSeHan’s CP Koo Jae-young, /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ with a stern face but a large smile on his lips.
Koo Jae-young felt satisfied.
“Inviting NewBlack was the right call.”
Their instincts were sharp, and they clicked with both celebrity guests and each other. At first he thought it was because they knew TNT, but they bonded with Lee Gyeon-woo too.
“Haha! If you want more bul-baek, star in our MV~”
“Really? If I’m in your music video, you’ll share the recipe?”
They bantered, and the overall vibe was warm—like a family reunion. This ideal picture the main PD had wanted was happening.
And...
“I always think this: Wooju is really talented.”
Co-director PD Oh Tae-joon said, and Koo nodded.
“Talented.”
Among NewBlack’s variety sensibilities, Wooju was his favorite. Oh Tae-joon: “Listening genuinely on cara is rare. That’s a gift.”
“Not common.”
Variety PDs admire guests who really listen—they’re usually busy thinking lines or observing. To record fluidly while listening is no small feat.
“Hyungnim, your hotown is Chuncheon, right?”
“Yes.”
“Taehyun’s family ho is in Chuncheon too.”
“Really?”
Simple exchanges that connect small facts greased the conversational gears. anwhile, unlike Oh Tae-joon, Koo pictured a new show setup.
“Could be great.”
He imagined a separate, dimly lit cooking space with equipnt and tables—guests chatting, NewBlack’s dishes for a mukbang, even inviting foreign celebs to showcase Korean food. The format plus NewBlack was promising. Lost in thought, the co-director called:
“PD.”
He refocused—good ideas but not ready to launch. He filed it in his idea bank and asked:
“What is it?”
“They just arrived. Should I have them co in?”
“Hmm....”
With Lee Gyeon-woo, it was sixteen people—too chaotic? He surveyed and said:
“It’s almost done. Go ahead and bring them in. Those guests will leave soon anyway.”
“Yes, I’ll mic them and prepare.”
Koo nodded smiling.
“This will be a fun scene.”
He expected a rare spectacle. Just a brief glimpse would make a great trailer. As he felt a cool shiver—a different, massive presence approaching—he paused in his thoughts.
“Ha....”
Outside, a six-mber idol group trembled with nerves.
“I’m so freaking nervous.”
“I need to curse it in advance: eighteen plus eighteen is twenty-eight.”
“I told my mom I’d be good.”
Anxious, they looked around, then at each other, and relaxed with warm smiles.
“What a bunch of trash.”
“Totally useless.”
After miking up, they thanked the writers and exhaled. Sharararang—they transford like magical boys into the brightest, most radiant bishounen sextet.
“Shall we go?”
“Yeah, let’s go!”
TinsprIT entered the restaurant with lively faces.
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