Chapter 786: Question (7)

Among the three broadcasters’ year-end stages, HBS’s had a rather unique concept.

As the title suggests, it was an awards-show concept.

Of course, unlike the old days when year-end music awards carried weight, nowadays the awards don’t have much authority.

It felt more like one of those netizen-choice prizes you get at acting awards.

“Congratulations!”

Eunseong and I shouted brightly.

“Netizen-selected Solo Artist of the Year, congratulations, Han Taehyun!”

“Ah. Thank you.”

The solo artist stepped up onstage, grinning slyly as he took the mic.

“I’m Han Taehyun, honored to be Solo Artist of the Year. Feels like I got a Christmas present!”

He gave a short acceptance and then sang a carol for the fans before heading offstage.

When the second half began, awards streamed by one after another.

Serenity won the Best Girl Group Song award.

Ri Hyuk, who looked like the type to sing a Christmas carol well, came up and sang a carol.

HBS rolled out a string of event-style awards.

“Next is the Rookie Award.”

I glanced at the cue card Eunseong was holding and nodded at his words.

“Let’s get ready.”

We went up just as girl group NYX’s stage ended, and swapped some lines about the rookie award.

“It’s the kind of award you can win only once in your life! The Rookie of the Year.”

“You won this back in ’14, didn’t you, senior?”

“That’s right. Eunseong. NewBlack also won Rookie at the 2014 music awards...”

We traded that sort of banter and toward the camera shouted,

“All right. Then—this year’s rookie! Who will win the Rookie Award? Let’s see it in a VCR.”

“Roll it!”

Eunseong stretched his arm out and the camera lights dimmed.

The LED screen behind us brightened and the video started.

[This Year’s Rookie Award]

That caption flashed as the VCR began.

The VCR rolled through past winners of the HBS music awards, starting from the 2000s.

Senior singers with that late-’90s, end-of-century hair, dance divas from the early 2000s, the fresh faces of TNT, and then us in 2014.

There was nothing especially remarkable about a lineup video showing past rookie winners.

“......”

But a heavy silence fell over the venue.

The audience murmured with puzzled faces, and staff in the back looked frantic.

Eunseong’s eyes turned to me, hard and frozen.

‘No sound?’

The audio that should have played with the VCR wasn’t coming through.

At first I thought it was a local issue, but judging by the staff’s faces it wasn’t playing on TV either.

It was literally a broadcast malfunction.

“......”

My head spun for a moment.

Because it wasn’t a catastrophic accident, leaving it alone wouldn’t be a problem for me as an MC.

But fixes came to mind one by one.

Twenty seconds.

During the VCR’s opening twenty seconds I found the most appropriate fix.

“Eunseong.”

“Yes?”

“Match my lines with me.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Damage control.”

I gave him a look and asked him to follow my lead, and the baffled partner nodded.

Backstage.

“Hey! What is this?!”

“We don’t know. The audio—”

“You have to fix this! You idiot! The audio isn’t coming through.”

HBS music-award staff were running around in chaos over the unexpected problem.

The director was shouting at the top of his lungs, and the tech staff were checking the equipment fast.

He was banging his rolled script against his head.

My skin crawled at the situation; the director paced behind the tech staff like someone about to lose it.

He called over the audio director, who was swearing.

“Director. What happened here?”

“We don’t know. It looks like something went wrong with the outsourced work? Or equipment failure...”

The audio director already sounded like he was preparing to dodge responsibility, and the director cut off midreply.

‘I’m going to lose it.’

If only this one VCR had no sound, it would be tolerable.

But what if the same thing happened to the next video?

This could still be handled as a hiccup, but if audio failed through the next stage, that would be a real major incident.

‘Hurry and fix this somehow...’

I was stamping my foot when the techs kept cursing and pacing and the production team sat up stiff with tension.

“Really a lot of seniors have come through HBS’s music awards, huh.”

A smooth voice cut through, and heads turned.

Sun Wooju and Kevin were delivering lines with a mic.

‘Huh?’

While the staff froze, the VCR continued to run the lineup of past winners.

Sun Wooju and Kevin narrated like commentators.

They made eye contact with the director and nodded.

“......!”

The director dashed at the audio director. Grabbing his shoulder almost by the collar, he shouted,

“Director! That’s being fed out, right?”

“Eh? Yes!”

“Then put that through for now.”

The audio director, as if understanding, moved quickly.

At the same time viewers at home—who’d been puzzling and fiddling with their remote volume—heard the two men’s voices.

‘Good! Really good, Wooju.’

The director gave the OK sign.

Then he clenched his fists.

‘The group names run on the VCR, so just call them properly.’

That alone would be an excellent patch.

The fact that it was a broadcast accident didn’t change. But getting through it cleanly was most important.

The director whispered into their in-ear monitors.

“Wooju, Kevin. Thanks. When the nominees come up later, just call the names properly, please!”

Wooju lifted his hand and idly fiddled with his earlobe—an acknowledgment.

The director nodded and the other writers looked toward the stage with expressions of relief.

“Uh?”

But things unfolded a bit differently than they’d expected.

The first act to appear after that was Lucky Girl.

A girl group that included Rui—the variety idol who challenged Sun Wooju to an e-sports match for not knowing games—was on screen.

“nan naui shy boy

shine shine hae”

Wooju sang a short, sweet line from what should have been background music, and smiled.

It was charming.

As the MV of girls playing on a beach with sparkly confetti played, Wooju called out with a grin,

“That refreshing, lively song that blew away hot tropical nights—Shy Boy. The artists said they want to bring luck to listeners.”

“Here’s Lucky Girl!”

Kevin ate the line perfectly.

What production expected was just, “Yes, Lucky Girl!” But those lines flowed out as if prepared.

He asked the writers, “Is that right?”

“More than right—it’s almost exact. We even wrote that intro when drafting the music-show script.”

“Really? How did he—”

Before he could ask how, a writer said,

“Guess he really listens when new songs come out.”

“Ah......”

The production had known Wooju as the composer who always said in interviews that he listens whenever a new track comes out.

But they’d thought that meant casually listening; they stared, dumbfounded.

‘This isn’t casual listening.’

This time he was singing a new song as if it were his own.

The crowd’s cheers rose.

“A group with stylish rap and a unique concept, who ask the world questions! The seven-member boy group—Gravity!”

It wasn’t just surface knowledge; the narration showed you’d have to have dug through the artists’ albums to come up with such lines.

While they watched in stunned silence, the online world lit up.

“What is this? Is this for real????”

“If he hadn’t sung the song himself I’d have sworn it wasn’t a broadcast accident lololol”

“Is this live???”

“WTF”

“Production, hide under the table you bastards”

“Broadcast fails but the performers handle it lolol”

“That commentary is amazing lol improv??”

“Feels like there was a cue card with that line”

“Yeah who would come up with that on the spot”

But few actually believed Sun Wooju had improvised those lines.

Idol fans assumed that, just like when MCs read the script for a music program’s #1, the MC narration comes as the music and VCR start.

Only those at the venue knew the truth.

‘Crazy.’

The live audience cheered for the national idols who were dealing with the accident.

It was literally MCs handling the accident in raw live manner.

If you hadn’t seen Kevin wiping his cold sweat now and then, you might not even have recognised it as an incident.

‘That courage is no joke.’ ℯℯ𝑙.

Even though it should have been a flustered situation, NewBlack’s leader was smiling lightly as if aware of the audience.

While I was admiring that, the roughly two-minute VCR ended.

“Okay! Congratulations! Gravity!”

The rookie boy group came up to the stage, tearful as they gave thanks.

Backstage, the director finally breathed a long sigh of relief and the audio director approached him.

“I’ll find out what the problem is and we should have it fixed before the next stage.”

“Yes, yes.”

The director muttered and headed toward the backstage stairs to greet the two MCs coming down.

He ran to them and thanked them.

“Thank you so much! Wooju, Kevin! You saved us.”

“Uh...”

Wooju’s voice sounded a little strained; he grabbed a bottle of water from a junior and drank, then asked,

“Is the sound issue fixed?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. That’s a relief.”

He breathed out and I noticed something.

‘They’re sweating...’

Onstage you couldn’t tell, but looking again the mic in his hand was soaked with sweat.

Wiping his forehead, Wooju smiled.

“I was really nervous doing the lines. I was afraid I’d mess up.”

“......”

“Really. Thank you. If we can return the favor sometime, we will...” the director began, moving to instruct their managers.

“First, costumes and hair—”

Before he could say anything to the managers, a voice chimed, “We’re here~!”

“We’re here.”

NewBlack’s members appeared with stylists and managers in triumphant fashion.

They looked as if they’d arrived at the perfect moment. Wooju greeted them with a smile.

The director, who had nothing to do now, watched the coordinated group and nodded.

‘There’s a reason things go well for some people.’

There’s no such thing as success without reason.

The 2017 HBS music awards ended without incident.

The finale, unsurprisingly, belonged to NewBlack as Artist of the Year.

Seventeen minutes of performance—an amount incomparable to the usual two-and-a-half minutes.

By length, it was the longest appearance among HBS’s year-end performers.

HBS Year-End Music Awards “17 Minutes” Magic: NewBlack’s Dazzling Finale

NewBlack’s Ri Hyuk Caps Off the 2017 HBS Awards as Finale Fairy

NewBlack, HBS Year-End Finale... “The boys finally achieved their dream”

Along with news about NewBlack’s stage, various performers generated online chatter.

But the biggest buzz wasn’t about the performances.

“Another broadcast failure this year... camera shakes and audio output problems”

“[Reporters Who Have Something to Say] ‘Again? Make a Broadcast Malfunction Award’”

“HBS awards audio issue, MCs’ quick response shone”

Among the petty technical issues, the rookie-award broadcast incident drew the most attention.

A particular passage startled viewers.

‘They didn’t have a script?’

Viewers assumed there had been a script because the narration was so natural.

“Looks like someone prepared the lines;;;”

“LOL”

“Did they just handle that on the spot??”

“Who says it was scripted”

“It was too natural”

“Who improvises that much”

“Veteran variety skill is insane lol”

“To viewers it was a perfect show but inside it was chaos”

As someone put it, the moment highlighted NewBlack’s leader’s quick wit and variety sense.

Calm born of varied broadcast experience.

Quick reflexes honed by shooting MyTube content full of unexpected moments.

Those clips brought NewBlack leader’s quick thinking back into the spotlight.

[Rewatch: NewBlack’s debut stage at their showcase]

(MyTube link)

Sun Wooju switched to an a cappella stage the moment he noticed the audio was gone (then aged 22).

That MyTube clip from their fireworks showcase where they performed a cappella.

“Not something you can fake with a day or two of experience lol”

“A seasoned performer”

“Wow. As rookies they’d have been terrified, but they went a cappella right away”

“That’s why critics praised them and videos popped up all over community sites”

“People who said it was staged were proven wrong”

“Those trolls were wild back then”

As praise for their reflexes and live skills rose, the haters were seething.

‘I’m pissed.’

Seeing what you dislike become popular hits the ego.

The haters immediately looked for attack points.

‘Did they mess up anywhere?’

They combed the rookie-group segment for wrong info or inappropriate remarks.

But where they looked, rookie fans only had moist eyes.

“Today was really so goodㅠㅠ”

“Our kids got their song introduced and he commented—so grateful”

“Grateful he introduced them so entertainingly ㅠㅠㅠ”

“Replaying that part nonstopㅠㅠ”

“Wooju hyung’s commentary was so nice”

Even a simple name call felt like a gift.

He’d given rookies exposure and even introduced their song.

Fans who’d been kicked around could finally smile.

[Watching Wooju’s handling today really shows how much he cares about the music scene]

People agreed with that sentiment.

Overall it felt like genuine affection for the idol world he worked in.

“From today on, Sun Wooju really is a music nerd”

“He’s already a nerd what are you—lol”

“Agree, total nerd”

“When he shows that kind of thing it feels authentic, like real affection”

“Intro was perfect”

“He actually sounds like he really knows those songs”

Because of that introductory commentary, Wooju’s patch-up video trended and rookie songs jumped onto MyTube’s realtime charts.

Songs that weren’t on the charts suddenly climbed into the top 100 and 200.

[#178!!!! Amazing!!!!]

[Thank you so much. After the senior’s comment we all... ]

[We’ll work harder. Really, thank you!]

While rookie groups thanked him via group Instagram and Y-app live, the Souffles were going after HBS.

They led the charge and hurled stones at HBS, and casual fans who liked them joined in heaving more rocks.

‘You come back and the first thing you do is cause a broadcast accident.’

But they calmed down after a while.

‘It ended well after all.’

Wooju had used his sense to handle the accident, and HBS issued a statement thanking the two MCs.

In truth, past mistreatment had stirred trolls, but overall this year’s awards weren’t especially bad.

It was just an ordinary year-end show.

As they soothed some anger by giving NewBlack a seventeen-minute slot after two years away, things simmered down.

“Hmm?”

The MyTube clips of Wooju’s handling began to disappear one by one due to copyright issues.

Then...

[HBS Awards Behind the Scenes #1 — MCs’ Broadcast Accident Recovery Moment♡]

HBS’s official MyTube account uploaded an edited video of their own.

The Souffles went momentarily blank.

‘You’re not even fans—why are you doing this?’

If you’d caused an accident, shouldn’t you stay quiet?

Fans felt betrayed that the broadcaster proudly posted an edited “look how the MCs handled it” video.

Even the clueless ones were left speechless.

The Souffles’ warm smiles vanished.

‘These bastards must be punished.’

Comments poured in in all sorts of languages.

God will strike them down

Is HBS’s BS short for Bullshit

Why proudly post this in multiple languages? Do they want Japanese hate comments?

Be grateful this isn’t Mexico HBS

What swear word hits hardest in Korean? Tell us.

Return the favor kek This is the Souffles’ HBS head-smashing moment

Christmas.

Within an hour, after receiving tens of thousands of curses from Souffles around the world, HBS’s video was taken down from MyTube.