The first performance presented on Music Café was, of course, “Something.”

At first, we hesitated. We wondered if we should rearrange or remake it to give it a fresh feel.

At that, Director Jo Gyu-hwan voiced his objection.

“Don’t assume the audience always wants novelty. If you recklessly change a familiar stage, you could backfire.”

Senior Jang So-won agreed.

“When we tried that with ‘Sugarfish,’ the audience didn’t like it much. A stage is a show, like a movie. If the audience expects something, you have to give them that first. The twist or novelty comes afterward.”

Following that advice, we prepared the “Something” stage exactly as we had done before.

From today on, I’ll be flirting with you

I’ll catch you—just out of reach—and hold you

I’ll close the gap between you and me

During the chorus, the audience even sang along. We’d had sing-alongs at small events, but hearing so many people join in here felt incredible. Goosebumps ran over my entire body.

Even after the first stage ended, and we moved into the talk segment with MC Ha Seung-ju, we could not shake off its afterglow.

-That was an amazing performance, right? Let’s give them another round of applause!

At the MC’s cue, the audience applauded. We sat on the arranged chairs. On screen, Jang So-won sat far left, then the members, and I sat closest to Ha Seung-ju.

I needed to get through the talk segment smoothly. Although we had done interviews, this kind of live talk was new. Worrying about slip-ups, Manager Yoon had locked us in a room and drilled us until it almost made us sick—but I was just as nervous.

The microphone in my hand was damp with cold sweat. 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

-First, please introduce yourselves.

-Sure. Hello, I’m singer Jang So-won.

The audience applauded. A man shouted from the crowd, “Noona, I love you!” and the hall erupted in laughter. Hopefully it wasn’t our road manager.

Jang So-won tossed a playful eye-smile and handled it with ease.

-I didn’t realize I had fans here. Nice to meet you all. I’m Jang So-won, former main vocalist of that group you all know.

“Sugarfish” had been completely banned after the drug scandal, treated like Voldemort’s name. The applause was encouragement for her to turn that dark past into a smile.

-It’s really been a while since we’ve seen you, So-won-ssi.

-Yes, I haven’t been on a music show in ages. I’m not usually a nervous person on stage, but today I was shaking.

-Is that so?

-Yes, because respected seniors are here.

-When So-won-ssi says that, it melts my heart. Normally I’d stick to the allotted time, but I want to give you more.

-Thank you so much, senpai.

-See, everyone? I’m softhearted.

After some light banter between the broadcast veterans, the spotlight turned to us again.

-Please introduce yourselves.

“Hello, I’m Woo-joo, leader of NewBlack.”

-I’m Bi-ju, the main dancer.

-I’m Jung-hyun, the rapper.

-I’m Ri-hyeok, main vocalist.

-And I’m Ji-ho, the maknae and visual. I love you all.

Ji-ho made an aegyo face at “I love you,” and the audience laughed. It could have come off as excessive, but his acting saved it. Ha Seung-ju smiled.

-You’re a team with characterful introductions. But Ji-ho, I heard from the writers that the visual member is Woo-joo?

-No, it’s me.

At Ji-ho’s answer, the audience burst into laughter.

-The maknae says that—what do you think, Woo-joo?

“I also think our maknae is the best looking.”

-Really?

“Actually...”

I feigned hesitation.

“If I don’t say it like this, he’ll sulk back at the dorm.”

-So you’re saying you’re not the visual?

“Yes. He’s the self-proclaimed visual.”

The audience laughed at my playful reply. Their reaction wasn’t bad. I could throw in one more comment. To whom? Probably the quickest-witted one.

I decided fast.

“Honestly, I think the real visual is Bi-ju. At first I wasn’t sure, but the more I look, the more his aura stands out.”

After our eye-exchange, Ha Seung-ju steered the talk.

-Is that so? Bi-ju, what do you think?

“No.”

Bi-ju gave an embarrassed smile. Some of the audience stirred at the pretty-boy grin. His gentle voice carried through the hall.

“I think our main vocalist Ri-hyeok is the most handsome.”

-And you, Ri-hyeok?

A curious atmosphere formed. Sensing the mood, Ri-hyeok pointed at Jung-hyun and said:

“Our rapper is the visual.”

-Ah, then let’s hear from Jung-hyun.

As expected, Jung-hyun pointed at me. While we showered each other with compliments, Ji-ho, naturally left out, pouted. His betrayed expression was broadcast live, and everyone laughed. Of course it wasn’t real hurt—just for the show.

If Ji-ho had truly looked upset, the viewer comments would have gone wild.

-You’re sly in your charm, NewBlack.

With that nugget of appeal, Ha Seung-ju moved to the next topic: “Something.” It was time for co-composer Jang So-won and me to shine.

-I heard there was a special story behind composing “Something”?

-Yes.

Jang So-won took the mic.

-There’s an event called the year-end evaluation.

-Year-end evaluation?

-Idol trainees have a performance evaluation every month end. It’s to check how much skill has improved...

-Like the mock exams students take?

True to MC chops, Ha Seung-ju’s analogy drew an “Ah~” from the crowd.

-The year-end evaluation is a joint showcase with our company and four nearby agencies.

-A sort of showcase, then.

-Yes. That’s when I first met NewBlack and Woo-joo.

-Not singer to singer, but singer to trainee.

-Yes, exactly.

-What about NewBlack drew you to collaborate?

So-won described the evaluation. Most trainees performed electronic-heavy stages, but suddenly a team started with trot. That freshness grabbed attention.

-Trot? I’m curious what that stage was like. Could we have a taste?

“I’m not sure how well I remember, but I’ll give it a try.”

Though she said that, it was in the script as “NewBlack performance.” We’d practiced it thoroughly. Ji-ho, I, and Ri-hyeok launched into a short trot medley. The audience offered light applause.

-Wow, you belt trot so well. I get why So-won-ssi found it appealing.

-They were like fizzy soda. And when I learned the arrangement was done not by a professional producer but by one of the members, I was even more intrigued.

-Really?

The MC feigned surprise and explained to the audience:

-As you know, arranging is harder than composing, since it requires understanding instruments and harmony.

As all eyes turned to me, appreciative murmurs rose. I felt shy—it wasn’t that impressive...

-From then on, I worked with Woo-joo. In hindsight, it feels like fate.

-Considering “Something”’s success, it truly does.

-Actually, the idea of “something” was also provided by Woo-joo.

-Is that so?

While explaining the composing story, Ha Seung-ju’s gaze brimmed with interest, then flicked to me, as if discovering a fascinating specimen. I flinched.

-So-won-ssi’s story makes it seem like Woo-joo had the greater role. How was it for you co-composing?

“Actually, even though you spoke kindly, senpai, I think this song began and ended with Jang So-won. I only contributed briefly.”

-They lift each other up. Very humble for a collaboration. Probably the most modest duo we’ve seen.

The crowd laughed at Ha Seung-ju’s quip. While So-won and I discussed composition, we sprinkled in mentions of the members—this part was Bi-ju’s suggested move, that part Ri-hyeok’s vocal direction—to keep everyone included. The effect was subtle, but present.

“He’s good.”

In the control room, the PD said in awe.

“I expected them to be shaking live, but for rookies this is solid.”

“They’re not just solid—they’re excellent.”

“He reacts well and handles talk smoothly. We could introduce him to other show PDs later.”

Their focus through the cameras was on Sun Woo-joo.

“He’s handsome and articulate.”

“Visually, he could crush most idols. If they strike big, he’ll draw fans.”

“Are fangirls drawn by looks alone? They say the jazzy... what’s that award now?”

“The otaku-pleasing award, PD-nim.”

“Right, that.”

“But his face is appealing across tastes.”

The writers smiled approvingly; the PD let out a chuckle. Watching Woo-joo on screen, one writer marveled:

“He’s really dedicated.”

“It’s not easy °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° for a rookie to appear on Music Café. They have to go all out.”

“True.”

“One small regret: when the leader feeds lines to the others, they don’t follow as smoothly as he does.”

“That’s normal. Rookies tremble even when cameras turn on.”

Indeed, Woo-joo was deftly prompting his juniors, parent-bird style alongside So-won. But the broadcast-first members stumbled slightly sometimes.

-Um...

When a member froze for two seconds on an unanticipated question, Ha Seung-ju ruthlessly switched to another, as if he wouldn’t even glance back.

“Seung-ju-ssi is coldhearted.”

“He’ll focus on those who give good reaction. On radio, if silence exceeds three seconds, it’s a disaster.”

“Ha Seung-ju-ssi really zeros in on those who engage.”

Unlucky for the off-day member, but that very style made today’s Music Café what it is.

“But isn’t it odd, PD-nim?”

“What is?”

“This is the first time Seung-ju-ssi asked to extend a guest’s airtime, right?”

“It’s within permissible range—five minutes-ish. What’s the problem?”

“There’s no precedent. Other teams might be displeased...”

The PD thought briefly, then laughed.

“Which guest would complain to us?”

“No one.”

“Allocating airtime is the network’s prerogative. And we’re just giving them extra. Their segment will generate buzz. No problem. And if there’s chatter afterward? So what?”

He added with a grin:

“As long as ratings are good, it’s all good.”

After the composing talk and personal bits, only two performances remained.

-It’s time for the mid-show performance.

Adjusting his glasses, the MC looked at me: ready? I nodded, and he continued:

-I heard you have talent on the piano, Woo-joo-ssi.

“Ah, no.”

I waved my hand.

“I’ve played since I was young, so I’m just used to it. My skill is lacking.”

-Don’t let appearances fool you.

Ha Seung-ju shot a mischievous smile to the audience.

-I snuck in during rehearsal to watch. I’m a pianist-composer myself, but at that age I couldn’t bring that emotion. You can look forward to Woo-joo’s piano.

His well-timed line sparked curiosity in the audience’s eyes. All attention turned to me.

I strolled to the grand piano.

I was nervous. I wore the calm expression personally taught by Wang Ji-ho, master of stage-face, but my heart raced. Stages are funny that way: as soon as you get used to them, a new thrill arrives.

When I passed the members’ chairs, they sent encouraging looks.

Hoo....

Unseen, I took a steadying breath and sat at the piano bench. The seat was cold beneath me.

......

The hall was silent. Curious, expectant eyes watched me like stars in the night sky. Taking in the weighty air, I moved my fingers.

The audience brimmed with anticipation.

‘This is the first time Ha Seung-ju has praised someone’s piano. How well can he play?’

Their gaze fixed on the handsome idol at the grand piano. When he raised one arm to the keys, his pale, slender fingers caught those nearest.

Perhaps from nerves, Woo-joo’s Adam’s apple bobbed twice.

Then the performance began.

He played a piano arrangement of the legendary jazz classic “Route 66.” The melody was sprightly. From the first bar, the audience was enthralled. It was likely because Woo-joo himself was so immersed in the music.

Though he’d sat tense at the bench, once he played, he transformed. With each keystroke, it felt as if notes cascaded from the piano. The audience gazed at him, entranced by the joy on his face. His shoulders bobbed naturally, his knees moved lightly on the pedals. On the white and black keys, his fingers danced gleefully.

Yet the arrangement held a tinge of melancholy—a gentleman singing a cheerful tune about a parting in the rain. The audience followed along, swept away. Those who thought of him as just a pretty idol shed their preconceptions and experienced the performance itself.

“He’s twice as good as rehearsals.”

In the control room, the PD beamed.

“When we post clips online, the reaction will be great.”

“That group’s real-deal. They were nervous in rehearsal, but no sign now.”

“What do you think the audience reaction is?”

The assistant director, watching audience faces, answered:

“Total success.”

“I knew it.”

The PD murmured, watching Woo-joo play:

“You can’t hide true blood.”

Earlier, hearing from Ha Seung-ju about Woo-joo’s father, the PD had frowned when the host first suggested more airtime—but upon learning the father’s identity, he immediately understood. It was a ratings draw.

‘Some might not know, but...’

At last, the performance ended. As the cameras captured the audience’s applause, Woo-joo returned to his seat.

Ha Seung-ju smiled and asked:

-That was a splendid performance. You arranged it yourself, right? You’re truly talented, from composing onward.

-Thank you.

Woo-joo bowed his head, and Ha Seung-ju, glancing at his cue card, pretended to shift topics.

-But is such musical talent innate? Effort matters, of course, but in the arts, talent counts too.

-Ah, well...

Woo-joo smiled.

-I inherited it from my father. I watched him, a pianist, from childhood.

-And his name is?

-Seon Myeong-ju...

At that name, exclamations rose throughout the hall. Seon Myeong-ju had been the most famous pianist in Korea fifteen years ago.