In This Life, The Greatest Star In The Universe

A chill ran down my spine at the sound of an unidentifiable noise.

“…”

We both hastily removed our earphones.

The sound of a heartbeat was pounding in my ears.

“Bijoo, you heard it too, didn’t you?”

“I have no idea what that was. Hyung, what on earth is this…?”

Though we said as much, we both had a feeling we knew what the sound was.

It was unmistakably the voice of a middle-aged man.

Memories of the courage test we had just undergone came flooding back.

“That must be it!”

I reassured Bijoo, who was nodding vigorously.

“It might be Jung-hyun’s voice that got recorded. We could be mistaken.”

“You’re right. That’s what I think too.”

“It’s probably just some interference that got mixed in. Definitely.”

That’s the conclusion we were coming to when Bijoo, trying to smile, said,

“And even if it is that kind of sound… it’s a good thing, right? It means we’ve hit the jackpot.”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“It’s all for the album to be a hit.”

“Ha ha ha.”

“Ha ha ha.”

We laughed like fools, but it was hard to genuinely laugh.

On TV variety shows, they’d exclaim, ‘A ghost’s voice got recorded! Wow, jackpot!’ But now that I was the one involved, it felt different.

Because…

“But Bijoo.”

“Yes?”

“If it really is ‘that’ kind of sound…”

“Yes?”

I explained to my blinking younger brother.

“It means someone was wandering outside our tent, making that noise.”

“Ugh… I imagined it!”

Bijoo covered his face with his hands, tormented by the thought.

I could only swallow hard as I looked out at Jeju Airport through the window.

Someone had whispered right beside our heads, outside the tent, while we were happily recording.

“…”

As I leaned back in my seat, resigned to a sleepless night, a face popped up from behind.

It was the youngest, munching on chocolate like a chubby hamster.

“Do you guys want some citrus chocolate?”

“No…”

“Hm? Why do you look so serious?”

“It’s nothing.”

“…”

The youngest, who had been looking at me with concern, soon noticed Bijoo’s suffering and looked puzzled.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“What is it. Tell me.”

“I’ll tell you when we get to Gimpo.”

“I want to know now. What is it?”

I urged the persistent youngest.

“Then you can’t blame me.”

“…Huh?”

“I sent it to your phone.”

After editing and sending the voice file, I added a message: ‘Unknown person’s voice recorded that day.’

Ten seconds later.

“…Aaah!”

A scream and the sound of a phone dropping came from the back seat.

Bijoo and I exchanged wry smiles.

Sitting next to Jiho, Ryuk asked,

“What’s going on? What is it?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“What is it? Tell me quickly. What’s the problem? I need to know to do something about it.”

“…I’ll tell you later.”

“Ah, what’s that?”

The youngest shook his head, but Rihyuk’s urging didn’t stop.

“Don’t resent me after you hear this, brother.”

“…?”

Ten seconds later.

Someone’s phone dropped to the floor with a thud!

“…Aaack! What is this?”

“I told you I’d explain later…”

“Ah, my chest. It hurts from the shock.”

Rihyuk’s voice, sounding as if he needed a heart-calming pill, reached my ears amidst his groans.

Noticing the commotion, the managers joined in what seemed like a ghost story relay.

“What’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you later—”

That phrase came simultaneously from four mouths.

But the managers didn’t back down.

They urged us to check quickly, their faces showing they sensed a problem.

Not wanting to be the only ones affected, we quickly sent a message.

“Check the message.”

“Message?”

Minki and Wonseok shared earphones and played the voice file.

Three seconds later.

Phones fell to the airplane floor as faces turned pale.

I smiled at them as if to say, ‘I told you so.’

“…”

And so, four singers and two managers stared blankly at the airplane ceiling.

“Wow.”

A voice admiring the voice file echoed.

Six heads turned at once.

“This is interesting.”

Junghyun laughed, seemingly amused.

Then, he promptly put on his eye mask and drifted off to sleep, humming a tune.

“…”

I envied his carefree spirit.

After treating everyone to a meal at a famous beef restaurant in Gangseo District.

I immediately sought out the engineer from the producing team upon returning to the company.

And…

“It’s a hundred percent.”

“…”

“It’s definitely a human voice. This one.”

The engineer looked at the waveform on the monitor and took off his headphones.

Then he patted my shoulder and laughed.

“Congratulations.”

“Huh?”

“Well, it’s a superstition, but they say if a strange sound gets recorded, the album is bound to be a hit.”

“…Right.”

I laughed weakly.

It would be great if it really meant a hit, but it was a bewildering experience, something I’d never encountered before.

Leaving the producing team’s studio, I wondered aloud.

“Is this really a good thing?”

“What can we do? We don’t even know what it is.”

Jiho stretched and said.

“Since it’s come to this, let’s make the next album a blockbuster scenario!”

“Woah!”

“Hey, you guys sound so unenthusiastic. Come on. The next album will be a hit! With energy!”

“Woah!”

As we raised our hands in response, the youngest finally gave us high-fives, saying, ‘That’s right!’

I looked at him with pride.

Seeing him comfort the startled hyungs, Jiho seemed to have grown…

“Ah. The more I think about it, I must be the human vitamin.”

“…”

“The boy everyone loved back then.”

I snapped awake. For real.

I clicked my tongue at Jiho’s self-satisfied behavior.

“It was all good until.”

“Hm?”

“If only you hadn’t said that, I would’ve thought you were really cool.”

“Then I’ll take it back.”

I laughed at the youngest member’s quick response.

Anyway, I decided to think positively, just as Jiho said.

That our album would be a huge hit.

While exchanging smiles with my younger brothers, I pulled out a cart from the company’s warehouse and loaded it with boxes.

“Let’s go, minions!”

“Yes, boss!”

We roamed the company corridors with my brothers in tow.

Every time we burst into an office, Junghyun would grab the mini megaphone.

Ah, ah. This isn’t just any singer who comes every day.

New Black. Ahh~ New~Black.

New~Black is here to take care of your welfare~

The company employees clapped and laughed heartily.

“We’re back!”

“Did you have a good trip?”

“Yes. I bought a ton of souvenirs from Jeju Island on the way back; everyone, please take one.”

“Oh my! Thank you.”

The reactions were great every time I handed out tangerine chocolates or miniature Dol Hareubang statues.

“Where are the Scarlet sisters?”

“Nayoon asked to put them in the studio fridge.”

“Okay. I’ll leave them there.”

After leaving gifts for Scarlet, I caught up with the A&R and Producing teams at a nearby cafe and gave them presents before heading downstairs.

“Hey, guys~~”

As Jiho entered, singing like an opera star, the trainees rushed over in a flurry.

“Good day!”

“Hey there.”

We waved and offered them bags.

“Found these on the way.”

“Take one each. Jinho, Boksu, Yoonsoo…”

The trainees took the bags with puzzled faces but were delighted when they saw the contents.

“Wow, tangerine chocolates and training suits…”

“I picked up the training suits from a store on the way. They’re what trainees need the most.”

“That’s right.”

Jinho showed the hole in the thigh of his training suit.

“I just happened to have a tear here and got teased all day.”

“Haha!”

“Thank you so much, senior.”

“Thank you!”

The others followed suit, bowing in gratitude.

While we were exchanging pleasantries,

Bijoo, who had been intently observing the sweat and shoe marks on the floor, smiled warmly.

“Are you practicing Teen Spirit’s song? Na na na?”

“Uh, yes. That’s right.”

“Are you stuck on the chorus?”

“Uh… Yes. We keep coming in half a beat late on the chorus part.”

“Can you show me?”

“Yes!”

After watching the choreography, Bijoo gave a few tips.

In less than five minutes, the movements improved dramatically, and the trainees looked at each other in amazement.

After a brief lesson,

“See you next time~!”

“Thank you!”

We waved leisurely and left the practice room.

Creak.

After closing the door and leisurely walking away,

“…”

We all held our breath and pressed our ears to the door.

A commotion was happening inside.

Sounds of “Awesome!” and “I’m not going to wear this. I’ll keep it as a treasure~!” could be heard.

With satisfied smiles, we exited the basement corridor.

“We really are the coolest seniors, aren’t we?”

“Exactly.”

“That’s why I deliberately explained the dance moves in more detail. Did I do well?”

“Yep yep.”

We all laughed together, a chorus of joyous chuckles filling the room.

Only Rihyuk remained silent, his lips twitching slightly as he watched us with a look of disdain.

The songwriting session was completed in just one day, roughly sixteen hours in total. Although we ended up pulling an all-nighter in the studio, once the inspiration hit, there was no stopping us. Ŗ𝘢ŊՕ𝐁ʧ

“Ugh…”

Rihyuk and Jiho were sprawled on the studio sofa, tangled together. Between me and Jung-hyun, Bijoo was nodding off, her head bobbing sleepily. I turned to Jung-hyun, who was peering into his laptop, and asked, “Do you think it’s done?”

“Yes, it seems like we’ve finished it.”

“You’ve worked hard.”

“So have you, hyung.”

I extended my fist, and Jung-hyun met it with his own, completing our fist bump. I took a final swig from the can, swirling the last drops of the drink, then spun my chair around to call over the younger members.

“It’s finished.”

“Shh!”

Bijoo, who had been swallowing her saliva, shook her head, and the youngest, still half-asleep, suddenly sprang up and clapped his hands.

“Yikes!”

Even Rihyuk, who had rolled onto the floor, let out a scream.

I beckoned the others, their faces worn from the overnight work, to come closer. Then, I played the finished track.

“It took some time to find the right sound. It was hard to find something that resembled traditional instruments.”

We wanted to incorporate traditional instruments but didn’t want to lose the trendy pop feel, so tuning took some time. However, it was worth the effort.

“!”

As soon as the intro played, the younger members’ faces lit up. The rhythm started slow but gradually picked up speed, causing everyone to nod their heads in time with the music. The fast choreography for the chorus and the rap part followed.

“Can you picture it? Where you fit into the song?”

“No.”

“This is your part, Jiho.”

“Ah.”

The youngest was pleased, knowing he would be at the center during the second chorus.

After listening to the song, Bijoo commented, “It’s really amazing.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes. It has a Korean sound, but also a pop vibe. What should we call this?”

Rihyuk said, “That’s the feeling I get. It’s like a future version of traditional music that has evolved without outside influence.”

“What are you talking about? What does that mean?”

“…It just means it’s unique.”

Jiho seemed to agree with that sentiment.

“I definitely haven’t heard anything quite like this before.”

“It’s new, but it seems good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, even though I have the most mainstream taste in music, if it sounds like this to me, then…”

Finally, Jung-hyun added his thoughts.

“I have a feeling about this song that…”

Bijoo quickly covered Jung-hyun’s mouth with her hand and turned to me.

“I’ve silenced it, hyung.”

“Good job, Number Two.”

We exchanged a high-five, laughing, and I spun my chair back around.

“Now, let’s contact Director Jo and Producer Ha.”

The song was complete; it was time for the homework to be graded.

Lemon Entertainment.

Ha Seung-ju stepped out of the underground parking lot and came face to face with the production director of Lemon Enter.

“Have you arrived, hyung?”

“Yes, Gyu-hwan.”

“I heard you had an appointment in Gyeonggi-do this morning. You came back quickly.”

“When someone calls, you have to come quickly.”

“That’s true.”

The composer junior greeted him with a smile and offered him a coffee.

It was a cold brew with a touch of syrup, tailored to his taste.

“I thought I’d run into you. I bought it in advance.”

“You’re like a ghost.”

Following a sip of coffee, Ha Seung-ju entered the company building, trailing behind Jo Gyuhwan.

They boarded the elevator and pressed for the second floor.

“By the way,” Ha Seung-ju inquired, “I heard Woojoo completely revamped the song. How is it?”

“Well,” came the noncommittal reply just as the doors opened to reveal the second-floor corridor.

“I haven’t heard the final version yet. I only listened to the melody Woojoo sent over email.”

“He’s been working even while filming that travel reality show. Was it any good?”

“Yes.”

The answer was brief, but the expression suggested considerable satisfaction.

Ha Seung-ju felt a surge of anticipation.

‘How has the song transformed to elicit such a reaction from this tough critic?’

These thoughts occupied his mind as he opened the door to the studio.

“Hello, Director! Hello, Producer!”

The New Black members greeted them with vivacious energy.

Despite the tired eyes and traces of tteokbokki sauce around their mouths, their expressions were as bright as the blazing sun.

They resembled kindergarteners returning home with perfect test scores.

“The song is finished?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s hear it then.”

The members, having received their coffee from Director Jo, stood behind with faces full of expectation, while the two composers seated in front sat up attentively.

“Last time it was ‘Falling’. This time, we’ve almost entirely rewritten it and changed the title to ‘Falling Blossoms’.”

“Falling Blossoms.”

“Let’s play it.”

The audio file began to play immediately.

The intro flowed like a chilly breeze sweeping across a desolate plain.

Woojoo added his commentary from the side.

“We haven’t filled in all the sounds yet. We plan to record the traditional instruments separately with a hired musician.”

The two men nodded, understanding the intended vibe.

The song continued.

‘Nice.’

The theme of New Black’s sixth album and fourth mini-album revolved around farewells and separations.

But rather than focusing on the negative aspects of parting, it leaned towards the promise of reunion.

The current track fit the theme perfectly.

The smooth sound that pleasantly stimulated the ears made Ha Seung-ju lick his lips in appreciation.

‘How can someone in their twenties have such depth?’

It wasn’t surprising considering whose son he was, but the involuntary admiration was undeniable.

It was like a painting of a flower in an oriental style.

Initially, the brush strokes were slow, sketching out branches, then just before the chorus, they rapidly painted blossoms.

And in the chorus, the melody cascaded like falling petals.

“Wow…”

As with any good song, he found himself smiling without realizing it.

The New Black members exchanged small smiles and high-fives in response.

The song ‘Falling Blossoms’ continued.

‘They’ve even captured the beauty of negative space.’

Often, the mistake with such compositions is trying to include too much.

But here, the intentional emptiness enriched the song.

It was truly a great piece, both for a composer and a listener.

As soon as the song ended, Ha Seung-ju laughed heartily.

“Hey, this is really good. How did you make this?”

“Haha, thank you!”

“Seriously, you finished this in one day?”

It was a sincere question.

Such a result couldn’t possibly come about in a single day.

To that question, Woojoo responded.

“You told me last time, to think through the parts I was stuck on by myself.”

“That’s right.”

“I found the answer this time.”

“Is that so?”

It was commendable.

The brightening expression on his face was met with a nod from New Black’s leader.

“Instead of clinging to the original track, I realized we just needed to detach some melodies and create something new from them.”

“Right. That’s it.”

It was the solution he had found when he faced a similar problem in the past.

Though it pained him to discard the work he had labored over for so long, sometimes it was easier to start anew than to try to fix what was broken.

As he mulled over this thought, Woojoo continued speaking.

“So, I stripped the melody from my piece, and you know, my younger siblings had composed a piece too. I took parts from that as well.”

“Oh…”

While nodding along to the backstory, Haseungju was struck by another thought.

‘It seems like it’s not just two pieces?’

Jogyuhwan asked on his behalf.

“Is there another piece?”

“Huh? How did you know? Yes, just two seemed a bit plain, so I also used a piece I had shelved before.”

“That makes three in total.”

“Yes, mixing the three appropriately really made the song come together.”

Woojoo, who thanked them for creating a good song, was met with smiles from the two men.

Jogyuhwan inquired.

“We’ve enjoyed listening to it. Is it time to talk about the piece now?”

“Um… in a little while.”

“Where are you off to?”@@novelbin@@

“The PR team has some questions for me, they’ve just called.”

Regrettably, they decided to discuss the piece later.

“Then, we’ll be back soon!”

“Take your time.”

“No! I’ll be back quickly!”

The members bid farewell energetically, and the two composers waved back leisurely.

After the farewells.

The smiles vanished from the lips of the two men as they watched the members of New Black disappear down the corridor.

“…”

Checking that no one was outside, the two composers locked the door.

Casting aside all pretenses, Haseungju urgently played the audio file of ‘Nakhwa.’

And then, he wore a look of utter disbelief.

“No way. How did he do this? What? Combined three?”

“I have no idea how he managed this. This is…”

Even Jogyuhwan, who had been listening intently, blinked in astonishment.

A hollow laugh escaped Haseungju.

‘Really, what is this?’

He was flustered by the notion of combining three songs into one overnight.

In front of others, he had laughed it off, ‘Ha, combined three, this guy.’ But inside, he was burning with curiosity.

He couldn’t fathom how such a composition had been conceived.

The fear of even asking a question was overwhelming.

“No, this isn’t what I intended.”

“Same here. I just meant to say, don’t cling to what’s not working, try starting over.”

“And then he comes back having combined three pieces.”

“Exactly…”

It was like the frustration of a master who tells his struggling disciple, ‘The answer is closer than you think.’

He meant to show there was a door right in front of him.

But the disciple exclaimed, ‘Ah! I got it!’ and then leaped over a three-meter wall in a single bound.

“If I tell him to dig up bellflower roots, he brings back wild ginseng. This kid…”

“I still can’t figure out how he made this in just one day.”

“Neither can I. I’ve never seen anything like this…”

Listening to ‘Nakhwa’ again, they were still clueless.

Whether such a feat was even possible in such a short time.

Above their heads, Woojoo’s face appeared along with the sound of his hearty laughter, like an auditory hallucination.

‘No way. Who solves a problem like this…’

The two composers were dumbfounded by a problem-solving method they had never encountered before.