Ri Hyuk half-opened his eyes.
No matter how he looked, the condition didn’t seem right.
The leader who kept waving it off as nothing was sitting on the sofa with his eyes closed.
His expression was no different from usual, but his complexion was pale.
“Biju hyung.”
With a jut of his chin, Ri Hyuk asked,
“Does he look okay to you? He really doesn’t look great.”
“He doesn’t look good to either.”
Biju spoke with worry crowding his eyes.
“But since Wooju hyung said he’s okay for now... let’s watch a bit. If we make a fuss for nothing, it could be worse for him.”
“Are you talking about Wooju hyung?”
“Talking about hyung?”
Two heads popped out behind them.
Ri Hyuk and Biju, who had nodded to the two teammates munching snacks, turned their eyes back to the sofa.
A flawless, spotless handso face took a deep breath. Looked like he intended to self-recover his bad condition.
“Wouldn’t it be better to just call the dical team?”
The maknae whispered.
“You know his personality. He’s the type who’ll grit his teeth through a concert and only say he’s sick after it’s over.”
“I can hear you.”
At the eldest’s low comnt, the younger ones flinched.
“I’m really fine. It’s just my stomach’s a little off.”
“That’s exactly the problem.”
Ri Hyuk felt a surge of frustration.
“Just call the dical team and at least get him checked.”
“No.”
“Why not.”
“What if it’s bad?”
“What’s wrong with it being bad. If it’s bad, we treat it.”
Wooju cracked an eye open, glanced at the clock, and said,
“The concert’s starting soon. I don’t want to confirm sothing about my condition and then get nervous for nothing.”
“No...”
“I need to do the stage properly first, then co down.”
“We’re saying this because you might not be able to do that stage properly. Right now is before the concert starts, so we can still do sothing. If a problem pops up after the concert starts, you know there’s really no answer, right?”
“That’s... true.”
At the main vocalist’s orderly logic, the leader paused. Then he went “eeeing” and shook his head.
“Why are you so logical. I can’t refute it.”
“Just get checked.”
“But Wooju wants to do the stage...!”
It was a joke tossed to break the mood, but the henchn stared with straight faces.
Even Junhyun, who would normally laugh “heh heh,” spoke with a solemn face.
“Hyung.”
“Mm...?”
“Get checked while I’m asking nicely.”
“...Okay.”
At last, with the leader’s consent, the staff quickly called the dical team.
Even so, the leader kept muttering, “Doesn’t seem like a great idea...” and the younger ones said,
“You know your health is the most important thing, right? In our team, even if it’s no one else, your health is really important.”
“Yeah.”
“If you collapse or get hurt, seriously...”
Just as the leader’s eyes grew moist at the sight of his wide-eyed little brothers,
“You’re performance-centered. If you’re out, we’re in real trouble.”
“If you disappear, who doubles my vocals when I sing.”
“Facts.”
“We wrote songs built for a ten-mber sprinting while singing, arranged down to a five-mber version, and you alone drop out? I won’t allow it out of sheer unfairness.”
“...”
The leader turned his head slightly with a faintly sulky face, and they burst out laughing.
The maknae’s eyes sparkled.
Looks like he’s a little better.
After teasing and poking him from the side, it felt like so color had returned.
“dical team’s here!”
“Yes!”
Right on ti, the clinicians checked blood pressure, put a stethoscope to him, and gave their opinion.
Seo Min-gi listened through the interpreter and smiled.
“With the equipnt they have on hand, they don’t see anything unusual. If we think there is, we should go to a hospital.”
“Really?”
“Sounds like a normal finding.”
The mbers tilted their heads.
Who were they, after all.
Experts who could earn a PhD in Sun Wooju Studies.
They could tell from his usual complexion.
When healthy, he was porcelain; when off, he gave off a hazy sickly charm; when he was hassling other producers or composing, his face lit up.
From that perspective, his color right now was pretty bad.
But...
“Told you.”
The eldest swept back his hair and bragged.
“They said nothing’s wrong. It’s just indigestion.”
He tossed back the antacids the clinicians gave, and the mbers watched with worried eyes.
He might be a trivial person to others, but to them he was precious.
Lately he’d felt like he was pushing too hard, and now his color looked like that—of course they were worried.
As Ri Hyuk stroked his chin, thinking, Biju set a hand on his shoulder.
“Let’s just watch for now.”
“Okay.”
They rose from their seats, and while they watched with anxious eyes as Wooju stretched out and loosened his body—
Wooju, peering into a hand mirror, suddenly startled.
“Huhhh...!”
Ri Hyuk asked,
“What is it?”
“Ri Hyuk. My face...”
“I told you your color’s bad.”
“No, not that.”
Still staring in the mirror, the leader smiled, satisfied.
“My sickly charm is off the charts today.”
“...Looks like you’re fine.”
He said that, but Ri Hyuk did not miss the slight tremble in the hand holding the mirror.
“Are you really going to be okay?”
“I said I’m fine.”
The main vocalist let out a small sigh inside.
Why is he like this.
If sothing’s wrong, a person should show it’s wrong; why is he always going around laughing like that.
“Don’t worry.”
At so point the leader had co close and slung an arm over his shoulder.
“There will absolutely be no problems until the end of the stage today.”
“...”
He was about to answer when staff called ten minutes to concert start.
Watching the busy crew, Ri Hyuk nodded.
The stage ca first now.
From the Netplus launch docuntary “The New Black: Making Waves”
[The final concert in North Arica]
As the vista of LA’s Staples Center rolled, Souffles with light sticks scread.
Happiness.
Joy.
Tears and cheers.
The five, appearing with a “Hello, World!” in front of fans bouncing on their feet, showed off the flashy choreography of “Nine.”
Wooju: It’s a beautiful evening, LA! Thank you so much for coming to the “Hello, WOrLD” concert!
Opening nt.
The leader, mic in hand, spread both arms wide with a bright smile, and the roar of fans waving their light sticks swelled.
The mbers also smiled and waved.
Over the last-concert-in-LA scene, we cut to the mbers coming offstage after the show.
Do Wonseok: Wooju! Wooju! You okay?
Pushing through people, the manager first checked on NewBlack’s leader, who had complained of feeling off earlier.
We cut in close on Wooju’s face, shoulder-to-shoulder with the younger ones, drenched in sweat.
Wooju: I’m in top condition today.
As he grinned wide and even gave a thumbs-up, the staff and mbers finally relaxed.
“Congrats on finishing NewBlack’s North Arica tour!”
“Waaaaa!”
The clink of glasses rang out here and there.
While managers and TF team staff went “Nice!” and downed draft beer, my little brothers and I drank soda.
“Good work.”
“Good work!”
“Everyone really worked so hard!”
It was only the North Arica leg that had ended, but with a massive schedule like the Billboard Music Awards stuck in the middle, it seed the pressure on everyone had been huge.
I smiled, looking around the hotel room buzzing with a festival mood.
Then I started picking at the snacks piled high on the table. Crispy chicken sandwiches and hot dogs from a famous franchise called Chick-Philae. Late-night bites for after the show.
“Mm, sweet. So sweet...”
Biju, happy over his apple pie, asked,
“How’s your stomach now?”
“Of course I’m fine.”
Biju, watching happily holding a chicken sandwich, smiled.
“I really thought we were in trouble earlier, you know. Your color scared .”
“Guess it was because I wolfed down lunch. Think I was just backed up.”
When you get a bad bout, you can feel miserably off—“Can indigestion hurt this much?”—right?
Maybe jumping all over the stage flushed it right out.
Ri Hyuk sighed and thumped my back.
“Please be careful next ti. Seriously.”
“Okay, okay. Our Ri Hyuk’s tender love for his hyung is truly moving... ack!”
“Quit the nonsense and eat.”
“Honestly...”
I shook my head and enjoyed the al with the kids.
The North Arica concerts were over, and we had roughly three weeks until the next show.
Thinking about taking it easy for a bit, I felt at ease.
“Okay, okay.”
After eating enough, dessert ti rolled around.
I clapped to gather attention from everyone holding a plate with a slice of cake.
“Before we fly back to Korea, can we talk work for a bit?”
“Sounds good.”
Seokhwan hyung, the TF team lead, said around a mouthful of cake,
“First, there’s good news for you.”
“What is it?”
To the maknae’s shining eyes, Seokhwan hyung answered,
“Pyeongchang.”
“Whoa!”
“You’ve been selected as main perforrs for the Pyeongchang Olympics closing ceremony.”
“Waaaaa!”
We sprang up and high-fived. As we danced like the proboscis monkeys from Jjanggu, Seokhwan hyung said,
“We’ve wrapped the official talk with the organizing committee, and next month we’ll appoint you as ambassadors and announce the perforr selection.”
“That’s huge. We’re... at the Olympics.”
Hearing we weren’t just on it but in as main perforrs made my chest swell.
As we celebrated, Seokhwan hyung added detail.
“There will be a solo stage, but there’s also a good chance of a joint stage. Like a K-pop idols collab.”
“Not bad.”
“As of now you’re the only confird act in the lineup... for the other boy group and girl group, it’s just talk, nothing solid.”
Manager Hong Seyeong chid in,
“Word is Teen Spirit has a high chance.”
“Really?”
Seokhwan hyung asked us,
“You hear anything from Teen Spirit?”
“No, not yet...”
Junhyun said,
“They’re a little salty.”
“Salty...?”
“You know Teacher’s Day. Our cake delivery got to them late that day, and it hasn’t felt the sa since.”
The TF team burst out laughing.
The neighbor idols had been a bit distant lately.
Everyone else got theirs and they were last; maybe that’s why they seed a touch pouty. Their text replies lag by five minutes.
The maknae said,
“Honestly it’s worse because we teased them asking if they were salty.”
“Facts.”
Their reaction was cute, so we kept laughing, “Salty? Salty?” and the kids bawled, “We’re not salty, for ****’s sake!” and ran off.
At our story, our staff dabbed tears calling us cute.
We smiled and asked,
“Aren’t we cute?”
“...”
“...Let’s move on to the next agenda.”
Why did the cake taste so bitter.
While I crushed the strawberry on top, Seokhwan hyung moved to the next item.
“This one’s about an English track.”
“Ah.”
Here it was.
From the end of the Billboard Music Awards, we’d been mulling this; now the TF team lead said it out loud.
“Our U.S. label reached out. They’re asking what we think about putting out an English track to enter the U.S. market.”
“What do you think, hyung?”
“I’m on the yes side.”
Our TF lead said,
“The artists we can benchmark in the U.S. are mostly Latin pop acts. Singers who ca from countries where the music vibe is a bit different from the U.S. Ones in a situation similar to yours now...”
I understood what he ant.
Famous Latin pop singers in South Arica often built careers that way.
Work in their ho country, then put out an English record in the States and blow up, then build a global-star image and work. He seed to be saying we should try an English track like that too.
“For now, the priority is to blend into the mainstream.”
“I agree with that.”
“What do you think?”
All the henchn looked at at once.
I smiled and answered,
“Let’s do an English track.”
“Then we’ll do it too.”
“Love an English track.”
“It’d be good to write sothing that’ll land with Aricans. It is the world-leading music market.”
“Approved.”
Smiling at my henchn nodding in unison, I said,
“I changed my mind. Let’s not.”
“Then we won’t either.”
“English track is so mid.”
“Breaking into Arica matters, but we’re fundantally Korean artists. We’ll write in Korean.”
“Approved.”
While the TF team exploded laughing, I looked at the brats and grinned.
“Kids.”
“Yes.”
“...Do you have no independent thoughts?”
“No.”
The maknae answered proudly, fist clenched.
“I’m going to live as your puppet...!”
“...”
“And I think your decision matters most. We’re all going to work on it, sure, but first of all, you’re the one writing the song. We don’t want to burden you by saying this or that.”
Not wrong.
If we did write in English, most of the work on the song besides the lyrics would fall to .
“Mm...”
In truth, the label’s proposal is very rational.
Aside from my musical-identity question of whether I, as a K-pop artist, put out a pop-leaning English song or not—it’s the obvious move in practical terms.
It’s like top Korean idols always putting out a Japanese track.
Localize as much as possible and approach the people of a country that holds a massive market.
Any way I think about it, it makes sense to do it.
It’s not even a full album in English; it’s a digital single. There’s nothing to lose by releasing it.
“What do you think, Wooju?”
“I think it’s good.”
Only... there was the problem that it felt a bit heavy.
The burden of failure was off the charts.
We had a lot of fans in Arica, so our na had shown up on charts like the Billboard Hot 100. But that was thanks to the fans, not , and I’m no expert on the Arican market.
I can’t guarantee that songs I write or work on will hit Aricans the way they land at ho.
Like how a Korean food franchise with a big U.S. niche suddenly making Arican food wouldn’t necessarily explode.
...What if it flops.
That’s what scared .
“I think there’s a bit of pressure.”
“Pressure?”
“The response in the U.S. is huge right now.”
“True enough.”
Every ti the reactions from the Arican public ca in after the Billboard Music Awards, a chill of fear hit .
It felt like standing before an unbelievably huge door.
I’d entered the first digits of the code by luck, but there was one last number left.
Depending on what I punch in here, the door will open—or not.
If we succeed, the reward will be unimaginably huge, and even if we fail, it won’t be disastrous, but...
“...”
I looked at faces focused on my words.
Faces saying they’ll trust, support, and cheer on no matter what I do.
Seeing those expressions filled with absolute trust ward my heart and yet...
“Uh...”
Why did my stomach feel so bad.
No.
Not bad—more like I couldn’t identify the feeling. Starting from the armpits, my solar plexus clenched hard...
“Just a second.”
“Hyung?”
“Hang on, I...”
Words tumbled out in a jumble as I sprang to my feet. It felt like my chest was burning up like crazy.
And then...
“Huh?”
My strength left before I knew it.
“Hyung!”
Wooju, who had been swaying, crumpled, and a gust swept the hotel room.
Because Junhyun, running so fast his eyebrows could have flown off, dove and caught him.
“Hyung!”
“Wooju!”
The mont Wooju, who’d just been calmly talking, collapsed, everyone jumped up and rushed over.
“119! Sobody call 119!”
“Hyung!”
“Wooju! Wooju? Are you okay?!”
“Hey! Sun Wooju! Hey!”
While staff quickly grabbed hotel employees to prep an ambulance, everyone went white at the sight of Wooju collapsed, face drained.
Cold sweat...
In less than a minute his whole body was drenched in cold sweat.
It was like water was pouring out of him.
Thankfully, it didn’t seem like he’d lost consciousness.
With a trembling hand, he pressed a palm to his belly, let out an “uhhh...” and curled up.
“...Ju... Junhyun...”
“Yes!”
At his gesture to bring an ear close, Junhyun leaned in.
When he finished speaking, the NewBlack leader curled up again, complaining of abdominal pain, and everyone fired questions in a panic.
“Junhyun! What did he say?”
“He... he said we have to make sure to ask the team lead. Says it’s a matter of grave importance.”
“What?”
Junhyun sighed and said,
“Ask if our insurance is properly set up... he says we should really ask...”
Everyone choked up for a second.
“Hey!”
“Is that important right now?!”
“Good grief! I’m going out of my mind!”
Staring at the fool curling up again, the mbers and staff couldn’t tell whether to cry or grab the backs of their necks.
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