Chapter 785: Question (6)

Gocheok Dome.

A huge banner reading “2017 HBS Music Awards” hung over the venue, and fans began queuing to enter.

“Broadcast at six but they start letting people in at four. What the hell.”

Casual fans are the easiest to rile up.

Complaining like that, the fans filed into the arena and glanced around to check sightlines.

“My data isn’t working. Is yours working?”

“Nope. Mine neither.”

They raised their phones here and there, but there was no sign of a signal.

It’s something that often happens in places packed with people.

“It’s packed to the brim.”

The standing section was swarming on the floor level.

From above it looked like a can of bean sprouts.

Watching people being squeezed in, someone asked a friend,

“You said you were here last year. Was it like this then?”

“No.”

“My friend answered, “It wasn’t this bad last year. It was still fairly empty then.”

“Really? Then why this year...”

Before anyone could finish the question, the LED screens lit up with the awards poster and the dome exploded with cheers.

“What, what is it?”

Drawn by the roar, eyes turned to the LED and two familiar faces appeared.

The variety-famous Kevin.

NewBlack’s leader Sun Wooju.

Seeing them back-to-back like secret agents, the person who’d been asking why there were so many people finally understood.

“Oh — NewBlack wasn’t here last year.”

HBS and NewBlack had been at odds and NewBlack had boycotted HBS programming.

Now that a national idol had returned to HBS’s year-end stage, the audience turnout had naturally increased.

“HBS looks so excited.”

“Totally pumped, right?”

Starting with the awards poster, the LED rolled promotions announcing, “This year NewBlack appears on our program!!”

The production team’s excitement and joy seemed to shine through the screen, and the crowd laughed at that.

“Hello.”

A rumpled stage director climbed up and began calling out fan groups for a head count; every time he named a group, cheers answered.

“NewBlack.”

At that moment.

A massive roar rippled through the Gocheok Dome.

The director, who had to call the next name, stammered for a second.

Idol fans instinctively cupped a hand to an ear and then lowered it, feeling puzzled.

‘Don’t Souffle scream like that?’

Anyone in the music business knows that when Souffle cheers, your skull rattles.

But the director looked like he was experiencing it for the first time.

“Ah.”

Idol fans smiled warmly.

‘HBS hasn’t experienced this before.’

They seemed bewildered — HBS’s experience had been with NewBlack’s rising fans back in 2015.

Dealing with the overwhelmingly top-ranked NewBlack fandom like this was new territory for them.

“Next up...”

The director, composed again, finished calling names and asked the crowd for cooperation before leaving the stage.

The broadcast start time crept closer.

Fans who had been fiddling with phones that had no signal began to slip their phones into bags.

“Look! They’re coming up!”

“Waaah!”

A duo stepped onto the stage.

A staffer wearing an intercom guided them to chairs, and two young men in tuxedos sat side by side.

“It’s Wooju!”

“It’s really Sun Wooju!”

Even from far away their features were clear; idol fans felt their hearts skip.

They were ridiculously handsome.

Perhaps emphasizing maturity, he slicked his hair back, revealing a flawless, translucent complexion.

“Why does someone with that face do comedy...?”

As first-time viewers seeing Sun Wooju on a year-end stage flickered that thought through their minds, Wooju slung on a guitar and brought the mic to his lips.

His red lips moved in an alluring way that made people swallow.

“I’m nervous because this is a live broadcast. Please give us your support.”

“Please do!”

Kevin waved playfully beside him to rile the crowd.

Souffle screamed like pterodactyls in response.

[Live broadcast begins in 30 seconds.]

A countdown started and the stage lights brightened.

Under the blinding lights, Sun Wooju stretched and shook out his fingertips.

10, 9, 8...

When the countdown ended, his fingers began to move.

“Waaaah!”

A caption reading “Gocheok Dome Live” flashed on the TV relay, showing the dome, then the darkened venue and the two young men in the spotlight.

Sun Wooju began with his guitar.

“Nice.”

A clear acoustic guitar filled the dome.

Then a cool, cutting voice came through.

Where the wind blows

It goes there

The song everyone knew — “Where the Wind Blows” — opened the show.

With eyes closed, Wooju sang while Kevin nodded calmly in time.

Kevin’s control and phrasing were spot-on.

Beyond pitch and rhythm, his ability to convey the lyrics felt exceptional.

Closing his eyes and trembling slightly with feeling, Kevin’s singing looked completely different from his usual self.

Homes across the country cracked jokes.

“He does comedy well, so can he sing well too?”

“Shh.”

“When Dad’s talking the whole time.”

Usually when the older generation cracks jokes the younger tell them to shut up, but during the opening even older viewers listened respectfully to the classic.

“He sings well.”

His rich expression and persuasive voice drew surprised looks from middle-aged listeners.

Because NewBlack had such a strong association of “vocal = Ri Hyuk,” Wooju’s vocal performance was getting fresh attention.

“Was Wooju always this good a singer?”

Half-true, half-not.

The group’s main vocal, Ri Hyuk, had always been an outstanding singer, and Wooju had lagged a bit in expressive areas.

But that had changed recently.

[Sun Myeongju has returned.]

Studying his father’s scores, playing piano, learning music he didn’t know before — Sun Wooju had been growing musically.

He’d been mingling with jazz musicians and developing emotionally varied musical expression.

From hymns and secular blues to nuanced jazz phrasing, his growth was apparent in the current performance.

Where the wind blows

It goes there

When the two singers’ gentle harmonies finished, the crowd cheered.

Eyes shifted to Wooju’s side.

“Isn’t that the jokester from TV? The one always acting cheeky.”

“That’s him, Mom.”

“He sings well.”

Even beside such a talented singer, there was no sense of lacking — it felt comfortably balanced.

That meant he was doing extremely well.

Curious kids nearby told their parents excitedly.

“He used to be totally off-key, but Wooju turned him into a singer.”

“In the military?”

“Yeah. He was a junior; Wooju thought his voice was good and groomed him into a singer.”

“...?”

The story spread online too.

“Revisiting the Kevin debut tale.”

Clips of Wooju and Kevin talking on a past program circulated again, along with Kevin’s military anecdotes from a talk show.

People were impressed that Wooju had molded a novice into a near-main-vocal.

Military junior debuted as idol.txt

If your senior trains you you debut as an idol lol

TJ who lost a talent like this in the military is shaking

Wooju’s voice is amazing

The guy who raised him is amazing too lol I’d have just said “nice voice” and left it

This is real fanaticism, terrifying if roles were reversed

My senior in the military trained a junior into an idol.txt

Suddenly feels like encountering a crazy mentor lol

Soon other communities spread “military junior debut story.txt” too.

With praise and buzz from the first stage, the VCR titled “Meeting of Past and Present” ended and the relay returned to the venue.

At the VCR cut, an in-ear voice from production came through: it was time to deliver lines.

Smiling at the main camera with the red light on, we began.

“Hello viewers! Wishing success for the Pyeongchang Winter Olympics — one Korea! I’m NewBlack’s Sun Wooju, MC of the 2017 HBS Music Awards.”

“I’m Kevin from APLB, co-MC.”

We read the memorized cue cards and led the opening naturally.

Every time Souffle cheered at a line, our energy filled up.

“We’ve lined up such a spectacular roster today. Kevin?”

“Yes.”

Kevin glanced at the cue card and continued.

He hyped the lineup, then began calling names one by one.

“Serenity!”

A girl group in Santa capes appeared and the stadium screamed.

“Teen Spirit!”

The group that’d been chanting just seconds before bounded out with bright smiles.

“Scarlet!”

“Street Boys!”

“Wonder Child!”

Each called act walked out and stood behind the MCs.

Kevin began, “And these people shook things up this year. They’re seniors I really respect.”

“Truly amazing people.”

A little awkwardly I called, “NewBlack!” and the juniors filed out.

The roar nearly lifted the dome roof.

The juniors wore green fairy capes over their shoulders and lined up behind me.

Laughs rippled as minions draped me in a red Santa cape.

“Really, Merry Christmas.”

Winking, I faced the camera.

“Now, are you ready for tonight’s stages?”

“Ne-e-e-e-ck!”

“First up: a bright, lively rookie collaboration stage! Let’s welcome them!”

While the VCR for the rookies played, we and the other singers filed off the stage.

Hanjo slung an arm around me and said, “Man, you’re really good.”

“Right?”

“Kevin’s great.”

“......”

Hanjo laughed, hinting at revenge for a magic wand incident — he’d experienced a sad episode after my vlog buying his wand in New York went public.

“Good luck, boss.”

“See you later.”

The crowd dispersed busily and my minions clustered around me like guardian deities.

Wide-eyed, they checked in.

“Did I do the stage and lines well?”

From all directions they built a prison of compliments.

“Forbes’ number-one live performer.”

“Guinness’ fastest heart-throbbing idol.”

“Kim Junghyeon’s pick for the man you’d want to farm with.”

Some lines were odd but it felt good.

Everyone else was especially upbeat today too; the juniors’ compliments earlier seemed to have brightened them.

“What did the juniors say again during rehearsal?”

Not sure, but I was grateful to the juniors.

“Honestly...”

And among the compliments, the one that moved me most came from my stunned main vocalist.

“When did your singing get so good?”

“It’s improved a bit.”

“Honestly, it’s kind of creepy...”

Like a turtle shaking off something stuck to its shell, Ri Hyuk brushed his back as if clearing dust.

“It feels like running at 100 kph and a tick won’t fall off.”

“So you mean ‘I thought I was extending a gap with hard work, but a rival is closing in and I feel threatened’?”

“I don’t know. I’m going to practice.”

He’d seemed nonchalant in rehearsal but the live performance had fired up Ri Hyuk with real urgency, and it made me smile.

That’s why I practice singing so much.

Biju praised me, “You were great, hyung. Keep focusing on singing. Your voice is really....”

“Ha-ha.”

I smiled and told the younger guys we’d meet again during the break.

It was time to return to MC duties.

Waving to the juniors, I walked back; Kevin, being scolded gently by APLB’s leader Haru, rubbed his ear.

“Hello, senior.”

He bowed politely as Haru walked off, and I asked Kevin, “What’s up?”

“Same old scolding. Live broadcast—don’t cross the line with jokes. Don’t get cocky with seniors...”

“A maxim for the ages. Take it to heart.”

“I’ve engraved it in the desert sands of my soul.”

“It should be in a spot with no wind.”

We bantered and sat in the backstage chairs.

Maybe because it was Christmas or because I’d long wanted to MC a year-end show, I felt good.

I took a water bottle from our managers when I noticed nervous newcomers peeking from behind the steel structure.

“Newcomers.”

Watching nervous rookies before their first year-end stage made me smile.

They yelled their chant, a boy-group leader soothing nervous members, a girl group bouncing in place with tearful faces.

“What are you thinking?”

“That year-end stages are really precious opportunities.”

“Yeah.”

For rookies, appearing on one of the three major broadcasters’ year-end shows is a sign of success.

“I hope everyone does well.”

I waved and mouthed “fighting” to the flustered juniors who’d spotted us.

“And me? Aren’t you giving me fighting?”

“Kevin, please memorize the cue card I told you to.”

“....”

“Private First Class Ha Eunseong...”

Kevin grumbled while memorizing, making the staff laugh.

“Was Wooju a scary senior?”

“Me? Not at all.”

I thought I was the kindest senior.

But Eunseong felt wronged.

“Kind senior, my foot.”

All the niceties on TV were lip service.

Eunseong: Why are you using the Excel function like that?

Eunseong: Come talk to me for a sec. I won’t be mad. I just want to chat.

If you don’t know the password, don’t call — try 1q2w3e4r.

He’d endured all kinds of scoldings and humiliations...

“Hm?”

Eunseong cocked his head.

‘But most of this is my fault.’

Thinking it through, he realized he’d made plenty of mistakes and fell quiet.

Apart from nagging him for composition study or putting him through “training” that felt like torment, he actually liked the guy.

“How’s your condition? All good?”

“Good.”

“Let’s get ready to go up.”

Meticulous and caring personally, but hard to work with professionally.

“Really intense.”

If he weren’t such a klutz, people would’ve begged him to run operations in the military; his execution was terrifying.

Every time he squinted at work he’d made us nervous.

Even hearing him call my name made my heart race.

Holding the mic, I showed the cue-card note and said, “NYX’s stage is next — be careful with this part of the lines.”

“Got it.”

“You memorized the exchange for the lines?”

“Yes....”

NewBlack truly felt like remarkable seniors.

I’d once asked if “Sergeant was harsh” to build rapport, but NewBlack members looked blank.

Huh? We’ve never been scolded by Wooju about stage stuff.

They just swallowed tears upon realizing how great the other four’s skill and practice levels were.

‘How do such people exist together?’

Competent people surrounded by someone who raises expectations — the bar keeps climbing.

Even now my old military senior was staring wistfully into the air backstage.

“If Ri Hyuk were here he’d have memorized it all.”

‘That’s because you praised him. I don’t even praise.’

“Jiho would’ve memorized that much too. Our maknae just doesn’t try, it’s all about passion and effort...”

‘I want to go home.’

Eunseong swallowed tears and went up when signaled.

Shortly after, I returned to the stage refreshed and the MC banter flowed easily.

I realized Wooju had been right.

“Things move quicker when you get the lines memorized.”

With the practiced parts learned, the hosting gained momentum and felt more natural.

We rode the flow through part one and into part two.

“...?”

As we were doing part two, something unexpected happened to the two MCs.