Chapter 821: Winning or Losing Doesn’t Matter (9)

The beach where the sun was setting beyond the horizon.

While couples and families enjoyed the romantic view over the sea,

Santa Monica Beach had no room to even place a foot.

"Move!"

"Ow! Who stepped on my foot?!"

"Where’s the restroom?!"

It was absolute chaos!

In front of the crowd packed together like bean sprouts in a crate stood a specially built outdoor stage.

Above it fluttered a banner.

[Moonlight Parade]

A special performance prepared by Hailey Blue to promote her new song.

With news that America’s top pop star was holding a free outdoor concert, the place was overflowing.

"What’s going on over there?"

"Moonlight Parade? What’s that? Is there a show today?"

"No way! It’s Hailey Blue!"

Even passersby who heard the news kept pushing in, and the venue was already beyond capacity.

Crammed!

Amid shoulders jostling from every direction, NewBlack’s fans began screaming.

‘What the hell—there are so many people....’

Even in winter, the venue reeked of body odor and sweat, and American Souffle nearly panicked.

This many people?

That meant—

‘As expected of Hailey Blue.’

Her name value was incredible.

Even in Los Angeles, where winter felt like early autumn, people had gathered hours before the show.

And it wasn’t just ordinary folks.

There were people with somewhat ominous expressions.

‘Those must be Bloomers.’

Bloomers.

Hailey Blue’s fandom, inheriting her personality—fierce and aggressive to the extreme.

Souffle swallowed hard at the sight of those faintly smirking faces.

Then their eyes met.

‘Gulp!’

Souffle, locking eyes with those intense fans, nodded.

‘We’re on the same side today.’

The fans across from them hesitated, then nodded back.

A heartwarming atmosphere.

They gave each other thumbs up with their eyes—

‘What are you guys doing?’

Farther away, the real Hailey Blue fandom, Bloomers, could only stare in disbelief.

‘Hey. That’s all you guys.’

‘They’re freaking themselves out making eye contact.’

‘Guess they don’t realize they’re all NewBlack fans. Surely they don’t think all this is their own fandom.’

There were simply too many people for Souffle to imagine it was all them.

But Bloomers could see it clearly.

How many maniacs would charge forward if NewBlack said, “Bite”?

‘Good thing we’re allied.’

Objectively speaking, in terms of American recognition and career, Hailey Blue won hands down.

NewBlack was still a rookie boy band.

If you asked random people on the street about NewBlack, you’d likely hear:

"NewBlack? I’ve heard the name lately. Famous for being famous? That kind of vibe. But I don’t really know."

"My daughter loves them. Says they’re popular at school."

"NewBlack? The guys rising after Ocean Five? Oh... the ones who rode a black goat carriage at Thanksgiving?"

Famous for being famous.

Many had heard METRO, but not everyone connected it to NewBlack.

Objectively, they hadn’t been active long enough.

So comparing newly-entered NewBlack to Hailey Blue was absurd.

But—

"Grnnnng!"

"Rrrrk!"

...that was different.

‘Oh my God.’

Even Bloomers, infamous for their ferocity, seemed restrained in front of that.

And the sheer numbers.

In terms of extreme fans alone, no one in North America could rival them right now.

The reason NewBlack’s standing was rising at light speed in North America—

It was because thousands would gather offline to bolster their artists’ presence.

Since METRO, the fandom had only grown fiercer.

Bloomers, who once saw them as a cute new fandom, were now flustered.

‘Now we’re the handful.’

Bloomers huddled together like an island surrounded by Souffle.

Meanwhile—

Even ordinary people sensed something strange.

"Why are there this many people...?"

Hailey Blue was a top pop star, yes—but not to this extent.

Just as they felt something more was going on—

Someone caught a name carried on the wind.

"NewBlack’s here too!"

"NewBlack?"

"Oh... that explains it...."

They might not know NewBlack well, but they knew their fans were intense.

‘We get to see NewBlack today too.’

Their excitement rose.

At 8 PM—

Under the moonlit sky, fireworks burst and someone stepped onto the stage.

"What’s up, guys!"

Hailey Blue in a blue dress.

Cheers erupted as Hailey appeared.

‘Wow.’

‘She’s really pretty.’

‘If I had that face, I’d live kindly.’

Under blue-dyed hair, her eyes sparkled, a warm cape draped over a sensual blue dress.

Like a goddess of water descending.

Holding the standing mic, she looked over the packed beach.

"You all came to see me?"

"Yeeees!"

"Don’t lie. Half of you came for NewBlack."

Laughter exploded.

Hailey pouted.

"You little bastards. Not even one of you denying it."

"We came for you, Haileyyy!"

"Who said that? Spotlight over there."

The spotlight found a man shouting with clasped hands, a woman in sunglasses glaring beside him.

"That your girlfriend?"

"Yes!"

"You’re getting yelled at later. Anyway, thanks."

"Yes, thank—urk!"

More laughter.

Commanding the crowd effortlessly, she looked at the sky.

"You know tonight’s the Super Blue Blood Moon. What do you think? Does it look red?"

"Uh..."

"Is it red?"

"Not sure!"

She nodded.

"Right. Apparently it’s visible as hell in Asia, but not here. That’s what Dr. Fish said."

"Ahhh!"

"Yeah. Damn shame. But no need to be sad. When I complained about it, someone backstage told me...."

Screams erupted.

"Shit. Give me that energy when I’m talking. Ungrateful bastards."

"Waaaaah!"

"Fine. Don’t try to heal this wounded woman’s heart now. That’s not enough—"

"Kyaaaaa!"

Hailey raised an eyebrow.

"I’ll accept the apology."

Laughter again.

She twirled her blue hair.

"What was I saying?"

"NewBlack!"

"Right. I complained the red moon wouldn’t rise. And Sunny said—"

Her red lips delivered the line.

"By the time this song ends, the moon will look red to all of you."

"Whoa!"

"Sorry, Sunny! I stole your line! But that’s life. First come, first served."

Backstage, five figures laughed.

Hailey introduced the live band.

"First song."

Her gentle voice cut through the cool air.

"Blood Moon."

Darkness swallowed the venue.

Waves and insects filled the silence.

Five silhouettes stepped onto the dim stage.

The roar was deafening.

Drum hi-hat.

An eerie backing track.

Then the synth melody.

‘Blue Moon!’

Now rewritten as Blood Moon.

The drums intensified.

Lights blazed red.

Five beautiful men appeared beside Hailey.

‘Insane.’

‘They’re ridiculously handsome.’

Red light carved shadows across their faces.

Standing mics in hand.

‘The styling....’

Suits fit for a ball.

Smudged red lipstick. Dark eye makeup.

Decadent. Sensual.

Madness under a red moon.

The retro sound filled the night.

The crowd jumped.

Everyone could sing Blue Moon.

Hailey closed her eyes and sang.

Then Ri Hyuk’s sharp voice cut through.

"There are times you need a little magic

Especially under this blood-red moon"

Cheers exploded.

‘They’re good.’

Vocals layered.

Even casual listeners were stunned.

‘They’re amazing.’

But people often notice flaws more than excellence.

Their skill was so strong it became invisible—attention turned to the song.

Blue Moon was originally about Halloween.

Vampires, zombies, aliens beckoning you to play.

But Blood Moon felt different.

Wooju smiled, reciting altered lyrics.

"I’m right here

Won’t you take my hand?"

That seductive smile.

Like strange beings under a red moon.

Confidently telling you—

By the end of this song, you’ll fall for us.

It wasn’t wrong.

The song felt redder.

Petals stacking into a grave of flowers.

[You’ll come to love us.]

The whisper rode the wind.

Goosebumps rose.

The sea bathed in red light.

Near the end—

"I’m your blood moon

So love me right"

The lead vocalist opened his eyes.

The crowd roared.

He pointed at the sky.

The moon—

‘Red.’

For a fleeting moment, it seemed red.

The crowd was entranced.

The cheers were explosive.

Lights returned.

The performance ended.

"So... you watching, Grammy?"

Hailey grinned.

"This isn’t just Best Pop. This should’ve been Song of the Year."

The crowd agreed with thunderous applause.

The Santa Monica special stage ended in triumph.

After performance videos hit MyTube, Blue Moon began climbing the charts again.

Then—

We returned to Korea.

"Sunny! A word please!"

"You failed to win at the Grammys—how do you feel?"

"Will you challenge the Grammys again?!"

Reporters looked... excited.

-Thought They’d Be Grammy Winners... NewBlack ‘Unfortunately Losers’

-Sunny Says “A Precious Experience”... Silent on Next Year’s Challenge

-NewBlack ‘Grammy Passing’ Controversy?

But it didn’t last.

Comments crushed it.

-So excited, huh you bastards

-Traitors aren’t far away

-In the U.S. they’re mad Blue Moon wasn’t even main category

-Black artists all got snubbed too

-K-trash reporters don’t know shit

Soon those articles vanished.

-At the Grammy Feast of Stars, NewBlack Shines

In truth, we didn’t do much there...

But headlines poured out.

Even the 9 PM news covered us.

Perhaps because of that—

We stared blankly at a massive box of letters.

"What’s this?"

"Grandmas and grandpas sent letters. Saying awards don’t matter... just stay healthy."

Our elderly fandom, Songpyeon, had sent them.

Crooked handwriting filled with support.

Junhyun read one.

"You don’t need awards. I’ve lived long enough to know awards ain’t important. The one who lives long wins."

An eighty-year-old grandmother.

She was right.

Health matters most.

So we worked on our full album.

Sleeping well.

Eating well.

Working hard.

"Mm?"

The underlings were staring at me.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"......."

"Nothing."

They left with suspicious looks.

What’s wrong?

TF Team office.

Yoon Seokhwan placed drinks down.

"What’s going on?"

Four members sat there, worried.

Jiho spoke.

"Wooju hyung... I think he’s gone crazy."

"......."

Yoon paused.

Sun Wooju.

Madness.

Words that always followed him.

"Hasn’t he always been crazy?"

"No."

Biju added,

"It’s different, team leader. Ever since the Grammys, he’s... weird."

Yoon leaned in, listening.