Chapter 859: Answer (12)

The head of PBS’s entertainment division politely extended a bouquet.

“Haha. Thank you so much for visiting our station, Mr. Cold Brown, who is famous worldwide.”

Cold Brown accepted the bouquet and replied,

“It is also an honor for me to visit Korea’s finest public broadcaster with such a long and proud history. I’ve heard that PBS’s history is essentially the history of Korean broadcasting. It is truly a great honor.”

As the interpreter relayed his words, warm laughter spread.

“Hahahahaha!”

“Hahahahaha!”

The distinctive laughter of high-ranking officials filled the air.

I leaned toward the PBS producer standing next to me and whispered,

“You must have worked really hard to prepare all this.”

“To be honest, it was more the director and the deputy director. They came up with the idea—rolling out a red carpet and putting up a banner.”

The producer smiled faintly.

“Honestly, I thought it might be a bit too much...”

“It’s incredibly effective.”

It felt like both sides had their mouths stretched ear to ear.

—Korea’s top broadcaster is treating me like the ultimate VIP! Yeah!

—Cold Brown just hyped up our station like crazy! This is awesome!

Is that how you have to live to survive in the adult world?

Once again, Sun Wooju learning life lessons today...

Right then.

“Producer Kang.”

At a glance from the director, the producer hurried off and brought something over.

The same producer who had seemed like an absolute authority in music shows was being directed with just a look. The director then turned to me with a warm smile.

“Wooju, please come here as well. We need to present the commemorative plaque.”

“Ah, yes.”

In front of the PBS public hall, Cold Brown and I stood together with the staff, smiling brightly.

In Cold Brown’s hands was the plaque.

[Commemorating the Visit of Cold Brown]

Click click!

As the station’s photographer took pictures, Cold smiled happily.

And that smile grew even wider at the director’s next words.

“After the music broadcast later, the president would like to meet you. He wants to personally express his gratitude.”

“Wow.”

Cold’s cheeks flushed pink.

As we entered the hall, he whispered to me,

“Sunny. Is this normal? Does a broadcasting station president usually want to meet a singer?”

“No. That’s probably because you’re important, Cold.”

“Korea is truly an amazing country.”

I smiled at Cold Brown, who was clearly moved by the K-style hospitality.

Now I understood why past U.S. presidents would tear up when greeted by massive crowds in Korea.

“This is the waiting room.”

The head of the entertainment division led us to the largest waiting room.

“We’ve prepared as much as possible to make your stay comfortable. We have snacks you’ve said you like, and a space where you can rest. If you need anything, just call this person.”

He patted the producer on the shoulder.

The producer from Music On, wearing a slightly sorrowful expression, told us to call if we needed anything.

Then the PBS staff left, and only Cold Brown and our group remained in the room.

“Ben!”

Calling his manager, Cold Brown handed him the plaque.

“Put this on display in the showcase at my third house in Inglewood.”

“Yes, Cold.”

“And get the station’s contact info later. We’ll need it when we receive next week’s first-place trophy.”

After handing off the plaque, Cold Brown looked around the waiting room with a satisfied smile.

He seemed pleased with how thoroughly everything had been prepared.

As he picked up a snack, clearly delighted, I asked,

“Is that one of your favorite snacks?”

“No. I like that they prepared all this to treat me. Haha!”

“....”

Jiho’s words from earlier came to mind.

—Cold kind of reminds me of my dad. A ceremony guy.

That did seem accurate.

As he looked around the room, rubbing his hands together, Cold asked,

“So what’s our schedule? Is there a cue sheet?”

“It’s here.”

I pointed to the broadcast cue sheet and explained.

“We’ll do a pre-recording in front of fans soon. Then there’s an interview with the MCs... and after that, we perform once more during the live broadcast.”

“Oh.”

“After the pre-recording, things get pretty tight, but there’s nothing special to prepare, so it’ll be fine. Any questions?”

“Hmm. Why aren’t we closing the show?”

“If you’re the closing act, you can only perform half the song.”

Even though it sounds good to go last, the downside is that you only get to perform the first verse.

The show has to move straight into the first-place announcement afterward, so the second verse gets replaced with pre-recorded footage.

“I see. I understand 100 percent.”

“Anything else?”

“No.”

Just as I nodded at the rapper shrugging his shoulders—

Knock knock—

A voice came from outside.

“May we come in?”

The door opened, and a boy group dressed in flashy outfits hesitantly stepped inside.

“Gasp!”

Seeing Cold Brown, they froze in shock, which made me laugh in sympathy.

I greeted them.

“Long time no see.”

“Yes, yes! Sunbae! Have you been well!”

It was Gravity, a rookie boy group that debuted last year.

They looked back and forth between me and Cold Brown.

“Ah, ahny—”

The leader’s tongue twisted mid-sentence.

“Ah... hello! We are Gravity!”

“Hello.”

As they offered signed CDs they had prepared, I took one out of my bag as well.

A non-commercial CD released to commemorate Answer.

As I signed it, Cold said,

“So this is why you said we should prepare CDs?”

“Yes.”

We handed them a CD signed by both of us and offered words of encouragement.

Cold Brown also encouraged them in English.

They seemed like they wanted to say more, but began backing away awkwardly.

“Th-then we’ll get going!”

“Goodbye!”

They bowed repeatedly as they retreated, bumping into each other on the way out.

After the door closed, Cold asked curiously,

“What was that?”

“There’s a culture in music broadcasts where artists greet each other. Junior artists visit senior artists to pay their respects.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yes. It helps break the awkwardness. You exchange greetings and encouragement.”

Come to think of it, I had something to do as well.

“There are quite a few seniors and peers here today. I’ll go around and greet them.”

“Can I come too?”

I smiled and nodded.

“Of course.”

That worked out perfectly.

Everyone would want to see Cold Brown anyway, so I might as well create opportunities while making rounds.

NYX, a girl group that debuted in 2013.

A strong contender for first place today, riding the momentum from last year’s survival show.

“....”

“....”

Their eyes shook violently.

Just moments ago, they had been happily eating kimbap.

—It’s noisy. Who came today?

—I heard Cold Brown and Wooju are here!

—Really...? Wow...

—Everyone’s going around greeting them. Should we go too?

—No, let’s pretend we ran into them by chance later. It’s too much pressure.

But speaking English felt awkward, and they were shy, so they stayed hidden.

And then—

“Hello, sunbae.”

“Gah!”

As Wooju greeted them, NYX members nearly spat out their burdock root from their kimbap.

Not because of Wooju—

But because the tall Black man behind him bowed like a spirit.

Seeing their panic, Cold Brown tilted his head, and Wooju said,

“You don’t have to bow that deeply, Cold. You’re a sunbae.”

“Sunbae.”

“Not just a sunbae. A big sunbae.”

“I see.”

Cold Brown immediately adopted a proud posture.

Somehow, this American had adapted very well to Korean culture.

Every time Cold asked questions in English, the NYX members looked like they were about to choke.

Seeing that, Wooju smiled and handed them a CD.

“If we keep standing here, we might make you uncomfortable. We’ll get going!”

‘If you know that, don’t come...’

“You were eating. Enjoy the rest of your meal!”

‘We’ve already lost our appetite...’

Bringing a globally famous artist along for greetings—

Their stomachs were already twisting from the pressure.

As Wooju left with a mischievous grin and Cold followed behind, the NYX members and their manager felt a strange sense of déjà vu.

“...They kind of feel like the NewBlack members.”

For some reason, it felt like he was always walking around with followers.

“Do they have some kind of fate where they always travel with a squad...?”

Meanwhile, the NYX members put down their half-eaten kimbap.

“I think I have indigestion.”

“Me too...”

As their eyes grew moist, NewBlack’s leader continued happily touring the station.

“Hello! Cold and I are here!”

“Cough!”

Every group they visited either choked or felt their stomach twist from the pressure.

On top of that, having an American star speak to them in English made it even more overwhelming.

Whether it was because of his long career or global fame, everyone instinctively clasped their hands together.

‘It’s nice, but...’

Everyone at the station knew who Cold Brown was.

Anyone working in music naturally listened to far more music than the average person.

Including American music.

And if you listened to American hip-hop, you couldn’t not know his name.

But—

‘This is too much.’

Even Wooju alone coming to greet them was enough to make people think, “Why are they coming here...?”

Now he was bringing Cold Brown along, handing out CDs.

It felt like their stomachs were turning upside down.

Because the top artists from both Korea and the US were personally coming to greet them.

“Oppa... can I get some digestive medicine...”

“Just grab cola and something. I know you’re not supposed to mix them, but whatever... why are you acting like Ri Hyuk...”

And so, sales of digestive medicine at the PBS convenience store went up.

Among them all, there was one artist under even greater pressure—

“Hello, sunbae.”

“Ah... yes...”

“This is Junghyun. He’s been your fan for a long time.”

It was Cash Cow, last year’s hip-hop competition winner and a strong digital performer.

His gaze moved to Cold Brown beside Wooju.

‘No way...’

Was this how it felt to meet a god?

The person whose poster he had hung on his wall since his underground days was now right in front of him.

Cold Brown reached out his hand.

“So you’re a famous rapper in Korea? Interesting name. Why Cash Cow?”

“That’s...”

He prepared an explanation.

And said,

“Because I’m a cow....”

“Hahaha! You’re funny. Koreans are really witty.”

Rain fell in his heart once again.

He had so much he wanted to say, but couldn’t.

Wooju stepped in to help.

“His real name is Jaeseop Kim. It’s similar to yours, Cold.”

“Really?”

Cold Brown, whose real name was Finneas Jessop, smiled brightly.

Cash Cow nodded quickly.

“Yes. Yes.”

“Should we take a commemorative hug? Yeah. Cheer up, friend. I’ve been there too.”

And just like that, the rapper ended up hugging his idol.

He looked at Wooju.

‘Thank you. I won’t forget this.’

What he said aloud was—

“Thank you...”

“No problem.”

Wooju winked and moved on with Cold Brown.

Cash Cow turned to his manager.

“...Hyung. I was pathetic, right?”

“Yeah. Painful to watch.”

“I need to study English...”

Even so, he smiled.

‘I met my idol.’

Embarrassing, but still worth it.

Then—

“Hey. Jaeseop.”

“Yeah?”

“Looking at the cue sheet... you’re performing right before Cold Brown.”

“....”

Imagining Cold Brown watching his stage from backstage—

The rapper silently screamed, clutching the wall.

At that time.

Souffle fans were gathering in Yeouido.

“A broadcast recording!”

Fans who won the lottery-like selection arrived at PBS.

A rare chance to see NewBlack and Cold Brown perform live. ℯ

They looked around while waiting.

Mostly Souffle fans, with a few Cold Brown fans mixed in.

Then—

“Huh?”

“A truck?”

The doors opened.

It was a fan support truck.

[Please take good care of our eldest youngest ♡ – From 4Black]

People began handing out items.

Seasonal fruits.

Photo cards.

Pamphlets like a classical concert program.

Signed CDs.

Fans were thrilled.

Then—

“Wait, there’s more?”

A massive truck arrived.

The doors opened.

A bright light spilled out.

“Is that...?!”

An older Black man stepped out with his son.

“Hello! Cold sent us!”

“Pizza this way!”

Chicago pizza.

Prepared by Cold Brown after asking what Korean fans like.

“Our fans love food.”

Souffle fans laughed like children.

Hip-hop fans whispered,

“...Is idol fandom always like this?”

“I have no idea...”

Then they lined up too.

Soon, everyone was eating pizza, apple pie, and coffee.

“Let’s go see them!”

Souffle fans marched forward confidently.

Behind them, hip-hop fans followed hesitantly.

Something about the scene felt familiar.

Huge backpacks.

Determined expressions.

Climbing stairs with effort.

“...This looks like...”

PBS building.

“Whoa...”

A new employee looked outside through the window and asked,

“Assistant manager... what are those traveling merchants?”

“NewBlack’s fans.”

“...Ah.”