Chapter 869: Answer (22)

Noisy.

At the bustling commotion coming from outside, the Light It Up staff stopped in their tracks.

“Did someone arrive?”

“Isn’t it Colin’s fans? If it’s this loud, it has to be them.”

“Are they protesting again? They’re always protesting about fair editing.”

They were talking about Colin Evans, the contestant with overwhelming popularity—

—WAAAAAAAHHH!

A roar unlike anything they had ever heard echoed through the building.

Everyone’s eyes widened.

‘Who is that?’

It felt like a hurricane had swept in.

Someone who had gone out to check came back, clicking their tongue.

“It’s NewBlack.”

“Ah....”

Everyone nodded.

It was already a well-known rumor in the industry.

—Watching NewBlack is like watching a hurricane.

Wherever they went, fans gathered like storm clouds.

A tidal wave of fans casting a shadow over the broadcasting station.

And once you saw it, you naturally became polite to them.

“So the rumor was true.”

“...You can hear the cheers all the way up here.”

Those who had once laughed it off swallowed nervously.

‘We should treat them well.’

As the staff instinctively shifted into hospitality mode—

On the upper floor of the convention center, a group of people watched the scene below.

“Wow.”

A handsome white man let out an impressed whistle.

“Terry, are you seeing this? This is insane.”

“I see it.”

“They’re just here for a short performance, and the fans laid out a red carpet. Even the police are here.”

At that, the middle-aged man called Terry frowned.

‘I don’t like this.’

Terry Austin.

A legendary producer.

He had created countless stars—pop divas, singer-songwriters, boy bands, girl groups.

Among them were Logan Smith and Tiffany Bell, both originally from groups he had produced.

But—

He had one failure.

—Next 5tyle.

A five-member boy band he had launched.

Talented.

Well-trained.

But unsuccessful.

That alone would’ve been fine.

‘I thought trends had changed.’

He had assumed boy bands were no longer viable.

Then—

K-pop surged in.

At first, he laughed it off.

But after METRO—

NewBlack had taken the boy band throne completely.

Every time he saw them thriving—

It felt like they were mocking his failure.

‘But this time will be different.’

Terry clenched his fist.

Last year, after NewBlack’s English track exploded, a label approached him.

—Terry. Want to create a new boy band?

Thus—

Light It Up was born.

A hybrid:

—K-pop-style training exposure

—Group performances and live eliminations

—Fan competition centered around “center” positions

The result—

A massive success.

Because early fandom-building aligned perfectly with American culture.

“My top pick is Hunter.”

“Colin! Colin!”

“Jacob, since I’m Canadian!”

Fans lined up daily in Pasadena.

The media called it a “new social phenomenon.”

The prize—

A solo stage at the Billboard Music Awards.

High ratings.

Guaranteed success.

Terry smiled.

“The more popular NewBlack is, the better. We’ll take it all soon.”

“Of course.”

Noah Tate and Holly Ingram nodded.

Former idols turned judges.

They licked their lips, watching the scene below.

‘No need to envy them.’

‘Those fans will soon belong to us.’

But—

One person looked uneasy.

“Mr. Ham?”

“Yes?”

“Why so nervous?”

Ham Pilsoo swallowed.

Former K-Net production director.

One of the key creators of the show.

“...I’m worried about Wooju performing. I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

He was blunt.

“NewBlack’s Wooju is known for performance. If he performs, our contestants might look dull in comparison.”

Terry laughed.

“That again? We’ve had many guest performances before.”

“This is different....”

But how could he explain?

‘They devour the stage.’

He had seen it every year at KMA.

If anything, it might highlight the gap.

But no one listened.

—It’ll boost ratings. That’s enough.

They were too confident.

“Mr. Ham.”

Terry placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re overthinking. Get some rest.”

“....”

“Wooju is here for promotion. Our show has high ratings.”

‘NewBlack isn’t that simple....’

But he said nothing.

“...Thank you.”

As Terry brushed him off—

Ham Pilsoo sighed.

‘Should I go back to Korea....’

Then—

He sent a message.

[Boncheol. How are you?]

The waiting room was excellent.

After parting with Cold, I sat down—

Guests began arriving.

“Hello!”

The main producer greeted me in Korean.

“Hello.”

“I can’t believe someone like you came. It’s an honor.”

“Thank you. I’m happy to be here.”

Then—

Judges and staff came one by one.

“Oh!”

A silver-haired man.

Terry Austin.

Famous.

Influential.

But—

Something felt off.

Cold hands, maybe.

Anyway—

Didn’t like him.

“Thank you for coming.”

“I’m glad if I can help.”

Polite smiles.

Hidden tension.

After they left—

Our American agent muttered,

“Bastards. I can already tell they’re looking down on us.”

“Haha.”

“They think money wins everything? We have money too.”

I changed outfits.

One hour until live broadcast.

Watching rehearsals—

“Hmm.”

Better than expected.

Then—

My phone buzzed.

“Hyung!”

Biju.

“What are you doing?”

“Watching rehearsals.”

The members popped into view.

“Want to see?”

I turned the phone.

“Not bad.”

Ri Hyuk added,

“Some vocal talent... but I’ll stay quiet. Might be bugged.”

“....”

He showed off his bug detector.

Jiho sighed,

“Too bad. Would’ve been legendary if it beeped.”

I laughed.

Then—

“Help me out.”

“Ask politely.”

“Junghyun.”

“Yes.”

Jiho disappeared.

“I’ll probably need to compliment them later. Give me something good.”

Ideas weren’t much better than mine.

After chatting—

“I’m performing soon. Watch it.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Call ended.

“Feels lonely here.”

“You’ve been here two days.”

“My heart feels empty....”

Then—

“Hey, Sunny.”

Cold entered.

“Time for rehearsal.”

“Let’s go.”

We stepped out—

Staff following like an army.

Backstage cameras rolled.

“What did you think of the contestants?”

Cold answered politely.

“Great energy.”

Then the camera turned to me.

I smiled.

“They feel like cute juniors.”

“....”

Not the answer they wanted.

No more questions.

The stage emptied.

Final rehearsal.

“Let’s begin.”

We nodded.

Black hoodies.

Red ouroboros design.

The music started.

And—

“...?”

The staff froze.

The performance—

Overwhelming.

Presence that filled the stage.

Movement like light.

For the first time—

A true performer had stepped onto this stage.

And—

This was the opening act.

“....”

“....”

Unease spread.

But they reassured themselves.

‘It’ll be fine.’

Except—

Ham Pilsoo.

‘This is bad.’

Because he knew.

Rehearsal—

Was never the full version.

Then—

“Hello.”

“AAH!”

He turned—

Wooju smiling.

“Long time no see.”

“...Yes.”

“It’s been a while since the Hailey Blue incident, hasn’t it?”

Translation—

‘I haven’t forgotten.’

“...Haha.”

“See you later.”

Wooju left.

With Cold Brown.

Gracefully.

Ham Pilsoo swallowed.

‘I might be finished here too....’

Then—

His phone buzzed.

[Hyung... things aren’t good in Korea... how’s the U.S.?]

“...What?”

He frowned.