We took a table, and the two bodyguards sat at another.
“Wow.”
Hanbyeol’s eyes curved gently.
“Our hyung has bodyguards in Arica now. You’ve made it, seriously~”
“Wanna say hi? This is Clint, and that’s David.”
Watching Hanbyeol and the two guards tip their chins and go “How are you doing?” made impressed.
“You said you’d lay your bones to rest in Korea. You’ve gone full Arican, huh.”
“I’m even thinking of changing my na. I picked the stage na Hanbyeol because I said I’d lay my bones in Korea.”
“Mi-byeol?”
“Yeah. How about Jang Rose-Star.”
We cracked up for a long, dumb minute.
I grinned.
“Not bad. Your Insta handle can be sothing like rose___star.”
“Oh, that’s good. Right now I’m k_bone.”
“No one knows that yet, right?”
“Yeah. I’ve never ntioned it anywhere.”
The reason the na “Hanbyeol” stuck is a fact only the close trainees from the TJ days know.
He has a separate Chinese na that’s hard to pronounce, and read straight from the characters he hated the sound of it.
So from trainee days he’d say, “I’m Hanbyeol!” His Korean was so good no one knew until he’d show a different-colored passport in the dorm.
He even went on a language quiz show and did decently—despite being a foreigner.
“I was surprised when you said you were coming to Chicago. Is it for the tour?”
“Yeah. Dallas yesterday, Chicago today.”
“Your tour’s huge this ti. Feels like it’s right behind our top period.”
“Is it?”
“Should be. We pulled a million at our peak. I heard you guys are, like, eight-hundred-sothing thousand...”
True to the kid who always cared about report cards, he told things I didn’t even know, down to the last detail.
He was excitedly chatting when the server handed us nus, and suddenly he got quiet.
Talking group activities probably stirred sothing up.
I changed the subject.
“What’s good here?”
“Tomahawk steak. But you should ask for it more done. Their dium here isn’t the sa as back ho.”
“Then I’ll do the sa as you. Oh—there aren’t cucumbers in that salad, right?”
“No. Why?”
“I can’t eat cucumber.”
“You used to eat it fine.”
I said it just ended up that way sohow, and he stared, then gave a dry little laugh.
After watching the guards at the other table put in their orders—
We traded assorted life updates.
“I almost fainted filming a variety show when Han Taehyun showed up.”
“Him?”
“Yeah. Walked in wearing cuffs and went, ‘Did you co to rescue ?’ I almost went stone-faced on reflex.”
“Pwahaha!”
Talking smack about people not present is always the best.
Hanbyeol poked his head up and said, “Try spreading peanut butter on kimchi.”
“What are you doing.”
“Checking if anyone here understands Korean.”
“Excellent sentence choice. Mr. Rose-Star gets full marks.”
If anyone understood Korean they would’ve flinched.
We were speaking low anyway, so no one could hear, but that reflex of scanning for watchers is an occupational hazard.
Covering his mouth with one hand, poking salad with the other, he murmured:
“I see a couple of cannon caras. Sasaengs?”
“No.”
I lifted my phone and looked at the reflection.
“Local paparazzi. They’ve been tailing us since Dallas.”
“Oho. Nice.”
I nodded with an awkward smile.
The Arican agency told paparazzi are a double-edged sword. Too many and they wreck your daily life; none at all and it’s embarrassing as a celeb.
So sotis climbers hire paparazzi to shoot them—and when that gets exposed they get roasted.
Just then the tomahawk steaks arrived.
“Order’s up.”
The server, all smiles, looked at .
“So... I’ve been curious. Are you soone famous?”
“No. Not at all.”
“I think I saw you in a Kids’ Choice video.”
“...Did you.”
I played dumb; the server smiled like she knew and walked off.
Thank goodness she didn’t say “Sli Ninja.”
I shook my head at the sniggering eyes of the old TJ lackey across from and went to work on the steak.
And the talk slowly deepened.
“How’s your grandma?”
“Great. Super healthy.”
“Good. Health is everything. My maternal grandma’s jogging these days to stay fit.”
He was talking about his grandma’s place, where he’s staying in Chicago.
After talking about his mom’s side, he looked at and smiled.
“You look good. I’m really happy for you.”
“I’ve been lucky. I think luck’s been with a lot lately.”
“Not too hard?”
“My body’s tired. My heart’s happy.”
As a senior singer who’s done grueling overseas tours, he knew my situation well.
“I know that feeling. Even if your body’s tired, it’s always fun when the dream is the sa. Later the problem is when everyone’s dreams start to differ.”
“...”
“My personal take: solo activities are best around year six or seven. Too early is bad. Once you start coming apart, there’s no fix. Circumstances bend people that way.”
He looked a little bitter, maybe rembering how he kept running around China alone during the TJ years.
From what I’ve heard, he wanted to work in Korea, but Chairman Park Taejun didn’t allow it. The company figured he’d profit more in China.
From what I saw as a TJ trainee:
If the company’s profit direction and your goals match, it’s a happy life; if not, it’s brutal.
“Still, don’t you feel it’s a waste?”
“Hugely.”
He was one of the biggest stars in the Chinese-speaking world.
If you ranked the top ten Chinese celebrity incos each year, he’d be near the top.
He scratched his head.
“Money aside, you know how this industry is. Take a year off and you’re forgotten...”
A small sigh escaped.
“I had to rest. It was too much.”
“...”
“Beijing alone, then Shanghai alone... then a Tang-dynasty period drama... That’s not what I wanted. If I wanted that, I wouldn’t have co to Korea. I debuted in a group because I hated being lonely.”
That kind of fatigue piled up for years, and he decided he just couldn’t go on.
I listened as he quietly laid out where his head had been.
“The company kept saying wait, we’ll put you in dostic group activities... but the schedule grid makes no sense. There’s no slot for group promos between everyone’s solo schedules.”
“That company’s like that.”
“I almost folded at renewal too. They said they’d do everything I wanted.”
But by then, he said, he’d fallen out of love with the company—no attachnt left—so he passed on renewing.
After that, China’s various “workshops” (their equivalent of agencies) and so Korean labels approached quietly, but they all wanted the sa thing.
“The mont I brought up dostic activities, their faces went weird. You’re king in China—what money is there in Korea...”
He shook his head and smiled.
“I don’t even know what I’m saying. In front of you, dead tired from a brutal overseas tour...”
“What does that matter. It’s just us.”
“Phew, anyway.”
Chewing his steak, he said:
“So I’m going to rest a year or two. While I rest, I’ll think through plans. And if I can get revenge on that old man—”
He clenched a fist.
I burst out laughing at my dongsaeng, declaring, I won’t bend, I’ll be happy...!
He’s positive as ever.
“So you’re starting to plan now?”
“Yeah.”
Listening to his ambitious plans, I mulled sothing over.
Before coming here—actually long before—I’d talked with Director Cho.
About company expansion.
“Hanbyeol.”
“Yeah?”
“If you did want to work dostically... I’ve got an idea.”
“What is it?”
I took out my wallet, thumbed through the stack of cards, and picked one.
Then handed it over.
His eyes lit up.
“Oh. What’s this situation?”
“There’s a company that respects artists’ opinions a lot. If you’re interested in dostic work, they could help.”
He burst out laughing at our company’s na—“Lemon Entertainnt.”
“You want to co to your company?”
“Say no if you want.”
“No, it’s just... this is surreal. I’d pictured this: you show up and say co to your company.”
“Oh?”
“And then I refuse, and you beg to please co...”
“...”
When I reached to take the card back, he went “Aaaah!” and grabbed for it.
“No! I have to brag to the others!”
He clasped the card in his hand.
Sothing I couldn’t decipher flickered in his eyes. A little moved? A little complicated?
“Thanks, hyung.”
“Think it over.”
“Hyung, but...”
Staring at the card, his pupils shook.
“Park... Gyuho? Why are you giving your CEO’s card?”
“He told if I ever needed to hand contact info to soone outside, give this.”
“...Impressive. Lemon Entertainnt. Or is NewBlack what’s impressive?”
From his side, it was a strange sight.
He kept glancing between the card and , then laughed and asked:
“Hyung.”
“What?”
“Can I at least hear the terms... Like, if I join Lemon Entertainnt, do I get songs from Starship Wooju?”
“...”
“Or does Chief Producer Joo Sunwoo personally serve .”
He crossed his legs like a haughty “top star of Asia,” and I smiled sweetly.
“Give it back. The card.”
“Absolutely not. I’m showing this to Han Taehyun and tornting him. I’m soone who got a business card from Sun Wooju. I’m thinking of turning this offer down.”
“Hand it over now?”
“Aaaagh! Sobody help! Bodyguards!”
Asia’s top star, Jang Hanbyeol.
Recruitnt complete... well, in heated progress.
Hanbyeol left with the card, saying he’d think positively.
But he also said he wanted to rest at least a year. I agreed.
“Since I only just stopped TNT activities, jumping to your company would tangle things. If TJ spins it as disloyal PR, it’ll be a headache.”
He wasn’t wrong.
We split, agreeing to talk again when the ti was right.
After wrapping up my long-ti friend etup—
“Happy Coming-of-Age Day to you~ Happy Coming-of-Age Day to you~!”
“To our beloved King Jiho! Happy Coming-of-Age Day~!”
“Don’t mumble the ‘I love you’ part!”
I ignored the maknae’s shout, blew out the candles, and cheered.
“Party!”
“Party tonight!”
“Our baby is finarry! An adurt! An adurt!”
May 15.
Teacher’s Day and Coming-of-Age Day.
We celebrated our now fully adult maknae and dug into cake. As a nto, we had Chicago pizza for dinner too.
“Ugh, salty.”
“Ugh...”
“Don’t Aricans have the WHO? If we eat this much salt, we’ll turn into kimchi while still alive.”
It was insanely salty.
Most food we’d had in the States had been like that, but this place was especially brutal.
At first I thought the chef dumped salt on because we were foreigners—nope, it was just salty across the board.
“Lalalalala...”
After the pizza, we wagged our tongues to air out the salt.
I think we chugged nothing but water and cola.
“To our maknae—congrats on becoming an adult.”
“Hehehe!”
“Now laugh like an adult.”
“Hohohoho.”
Wearing a pointy party hat like horns on his shaved head, the maknae smiled blissfully.
“I honestly don’t have any other wishes. I want to keep traveling forever with my hyungs, living as the maknae.”
“Waaaaa!”
“I used to hate being the youngest—like, I hated it—but now that I’m grown I get it. The maknae spot is pure affection with no responsibility! My dad said the chairman’s spot is exactly the maknae spot!”
“...Is that so.”
Mm.
Chairman and maknae—common ground: only affection, no responsibility.
Your father has given you another gem...
I smiled, savoring the pearls of Jiho’s dad’s wisdom.
NewBlack’s future is blindingly bright. Bright.
Like a mushroom cloud of light wrapping around us.
“Hmm?”
I’d sent ssages all over for Teacher’s Day; replies ca back—plus a few fresh texts.
A certain Mr. Han sent one.
Brat [Gim one too]
Brat [The CEO’s card]
[Ptooey]
Brat [Rude]
Seok Jihoon—tangled to TJ by blood but now at an actor managent company—texted too.
Jihoon [Hanbyeol was bragging he got your card]
Jihoon [Is your company that easy to join?]
[Yup]
Jihoon [Dang]
Jihoon [I thought it was hard so I didn’t go]
I’m glad—imagining him showing up and acting like family.
Hanbin was the only one who didn’t send anything—and, as expected, among the TNT crowd he’s at least...
Ding-dong!
“Of course.”
I ignored Hanbin’s text and shook my head.
I checked if the CEO or Director had ssaged—just thank-yous for the gifts we’d sent.
I watched the video of the CEO, party hat like horns on his bald head, cutting cake and choking up.
Who knows when I’ll hear back from Hanbyeol, but if I do the boss will be thrilled.
He wasn’t a big presence dostically, but musically he was incredibly talented.
“Once we grind him properly... hehehe...”
“Who are we talking about? PD Na Sangyun?”
I shook my head at Ri Hyuk’s question. “Nothing.”
I took a slice of cake from Junhyun and was eating when Biju looked at his phone and asked:
“Hyung.”
“Yeah?”
“Teen Spirit keep asking if we didn’t ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) send them cake.”
“Why?”
For Teacher’s Day, while sending cakes to all the people who helped us, we’d also sent to friends and acquaintances.
We’d sent to Teen Spirit, of course.
But... how did they know a cake was coming before it even arrived?
We didn’t tell them in advance.
“What the...”
Teacher’s Day.
The day students chant thank you very much to their teachers.
While portals put teacher caricatures and carnations on their main icons, the internet buzzed with other news.
NewBlack send cakes to 300 people for Teacher’s Day... “This is what a national idol looks like”
Ha Seungju shows off NewBlack’s cake... “I was an early-days servant, that’s ”
Street Boys post thanks on SNS: “A nine-slice cake... it felt like licking paper, not eating”
Celebs scrambled to post proof that they’d received “NewBlack cakes,” and netizens took an interest.
“Which bakery?! I’m booking it first!”
Thanks to the netizens who instantly tracked the bakery, their phone lines burst into flas.
It looked like bookings would fill straight through Christmas.
As you’d expect from a cake picked by NewBlack, people raved that it was delicious and plump, and Koreans went into full food-frenzy mode.
Ah this feels like a timing ga lol
NewBlack’s acquaintances must be sweating whether they made the 300 cut or not
Are you friends with NewBlack? Yes. Did you get cake? Umm—if not, you’re not friends
This is the mont acquaintances and friends get sorted
Is there anyone among NewBlack’s friends who didn’t get a cake..?
While netizens giggled, so watched without smiling, teeth clenched.
“Ah, damn...”
Six boys sat in a ring in their living room, faces tense.
“Why isn’t it coming. Why us.”
“Maybe the courier’s delayed?”
“Crap, what if they didn’t send to us?”
“No way. Impossible. We’re their neighbors... our hyungs wouldn’t abandon us.”
Of course it was sent, but they couldn’t help it—they had sins to atone for(?).
First-week sales: 999,999.
To keep the mood from turning sour, Yeonhu stepped up.
“This won’t do. Hands out, brats. We’re going prayer ta. Co on. Pray.”
“Gon.”
“Gon who? Wanna die?”
The pretty boys clasped hands and closed their eyes.
“Ring, doorbell!”
And with that, a sacred profanity resounded in solemn splendor...
If the upstairs neighbors saw it, they’d be shaking their heads.
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