On tiptoe, we craned our necks forward and sniffed the air wafting out, getting a secondhand taste of the casino.

"Um..."

Our security guard asked carefully.

"If you’re that curious, why not just pop in and come right back out?"

"No."

Honestly, sticking our heads in once out of curiosity wouldn’t have started a scandal.

The problem was the eyes on us from every corner of the world.

I really didn’t want headlines fishing for clicks like "NewBlack spotted entering a casino!"

With an ambitious look, the maknae said:

"It’s not good for image management."

"We unintentionally got marketed in Korea as clean-living boys... so here we are."

We were just living our lives, and the nation decided our personalities were pristine.

As the "dumb but good kids" national-idol set, image control like this was only natural.

So we waited until the entrance thinned out and did our sightseeing then.

"Hyung."

Swallowing hard, Junhyun said:

"Want to try something dangerous?"

"Dangerous?"

"We go right up to the line at the casino entrance."

"...!"

A good idea.

I immediately walked over with our second and third oldest—the two over twenty-one—and stood on the line at the entrance.

My heart thumped like crazy.

It was like in the army when you think you got two snack rations and happily ate them, then realized Eunseong’s had been misdelivered to you and you hid the truth with everything you had.

"Heeheehee!"

"Hahaha!"

Standing on the entrance line, we glared at Ri Hyuk and the maknae to tease them.

Las Vegas, city of gambling.

Reputation aside, they’re strict about age limits—if kids or minors even come near a casino entrance or gaming floor, staff block them with a "No" and a raised palm.

"Hahahahaha!"

"..."

As the maknaes trembled with envy, the three of us waved and taunted them.

The maknae quivered.

"Just wait. I’m going in someday."

"Sure, sure."

"Why am I not twenty-one yet...!"

"There, there."

We finished peeking at the entrance and were about to leave the MGM Grand for our next stop when—

"Oh?"

A couple who looked like Korean tourists spotted us and cheered.

"It’s NewBlack!"

"Hello."

"We heard you won yesterday. Huge, huge congratulations...!"

"Thank you. On vacation?"

"Yes."

We took happy photos with the couple in their thirties, arms linked, then they headed inside the casino.

We’d barely said our goodbyes when—

"Hm?"

Tap tap tap tap tap!

The same couple who had just gone in hurried back over and asked Ri Hyuk:

"You won’t... report us, right?"

"..."

Their perfect read on his character made us explode with laughter.

"No, but seriously, I don’t look that uptight and inflexible, do I?"

"Right~"

"I’m the type who doesn’t meddle as long as people keep the basics. At the dorm, have I ever nagged except when someone broke the rules we set?"

"Nope~"

There were like 130 of those rules, to be fair.

Still stung by being asked "You won’t report us, right?" by fellow Koreans, Ri Hyuk muttered the whole sightseeing trip. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

I half listened, then sprinted around downtown Las Vegas with the ducklings.

"Waaaaaa!"

"Stop grumbling and come have fun with us, hyung!"

Ri Hyuk, lips jutting, soon joined and trailed after us.

Apparently gambling alone won’t feed the town; there were dazzling attractions everywhere to draw tourists.

"Wow."

I didn’t catch the exact name, but a street lined with arched ceilings was fascinating.

Graphics rippled across the arched LED canopy; we craned our necks and stared for ages.

It felt surreal to see in front of us the exact backdrop from heist movies with suave magicians and handsome thieves cracking casino vaults.

Jiho said:

"I saw in a show that Las Vegas is a super easy place to get married."

"Yeah?"

"It’s in like every show. The leads try to get married, then suddenly a clerk goes, ‘Oh! You already have a spouse!’ and they have to annul some childhood marriage."

"So getting married really is that easy here."

Our maknae, thrilled that a crime-drama setting had popped out in real life, bounced with delight.

"Hyung! Hyung!"

"I’m coming!"

We each bought a street ice cream.

We took a photo in front of a fountain.

In this oasis city built on desert, we soaked in the warm feel of May.

"Peaceful."

"Really peaceful."

While the others ducked into a shop for souvenirs, Junhyun and I sat at the fountain eating ice cream.

"It’s been forever since we had a day to relax without worry."

"It feels like months. We’ve been on full sprint."

Escape variety, Korea Arts Awards, Europe and North America tour... May felt nonstop.

Sure, it’d be a lie to say there were zero breaks in between.

But finishing the Billboard Awards—the main event—and finally resting with an easy mind, that had been rare.

Fingering the film camera hanging from his neck, Junhyun said:

"Playing after so long is really fun. People-watching is fun. Walking together is fun. Just sitting here in silence feels good."

"Yeah. The weather’s great..."

Being the desert, it was a dry heat.

For Koreans, it felt like early summer; maybe because of the dryness, the sky was insanely blue.

So, so blue.

It looked like if I threw a pebble up there, ripples would spread with a [plop].

"Hyung."

Crunching the ice cream cone, Junhyun asked:

"Is your body okay?"

"Hm?"

"I mean your condition. We went hard this month—thought you might be worn down."

"Hmm."

I shut my eyes and asked my body.

— Body, body. How are you.

— You trash of a master...! How dare you overwork me like this... If I break down, you think you’ll be fine?!

— Sounds like you can still live. Ha-ha.

I was pretty piled up with fatigue, but it felt bearable.

"I think I’m okay right now."

"I doubt it. If I’m feeling a little tired, you should already be broken."

"I’m fine. Worry about the others, Junhyun."

"I’m worried you’ll collapse. We sleep after the stage—you don’t. You pulled an all-nighter again, didn’t you?"

"Who said that?"

"Jiho ratted you out. Said your laptop messenger was left open."

Should’ve set it to offline.

I said I just had a few composition things to wrap up, but his eyes brimmed with worry.

His hands kneaded my shoulders; I couldn’t help smiling.

"I’m fi— oh, that feels good."

"I’ve learned how to control my strength lately."

"Yeah—there, there..."

Ahh, relief.

Thanks to his shoulder massage, the fatigue eased a notch.

Still rolling my shoulders and chewing my ice cream, the third said:

"The others aren’t showing it, but they’re really worried about you. Your workload’s gotten huge."

"Mmm."

"They worry you’ll just keel over. We crash after the stage—you don’t."

At the company I hold a lot of authority over our albums and projects.

The TF team is amazing, but I can’t relax unless I follow every step of how our projects are progressing.

And there’s a lot to do composition-wise.

We won’t release another album this year after the second full album.

Timewise it’s too hard. Touring and prepping an album... someone might actually collapse.

"Ninety percent chance it’ll be Ri Hyuk first."

"Mmm... can’t rule it out."

"I do need to ease off..."

But even if we’re not dropping another album this year, I can’t stop composing.

Skip a day of practice or work and you lose feel.

And if I think about albums for next year, I need to lay the groundwork now so we’re not slammed then.

Still, the boys had a point. No matter how important work is, the body comes first.

"I get it. I’ll try not to overdo it and manage my condition."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I can hand some off to you guys."

"..."

We were going to meet soon anyway to divide the work.

I’d talked with Seokhwan and Director Cho about English tracks; time to strategize with the boys too.

Smiling at the third’s thoughtfulness, I asked:

"Junhyun."

"Yes."

"Tell the others they can come out of the shop now. Your spokesperson mission is complete."

"...Spokesperson?"

Feigning innocence, he got my follow-up:

"Didn’t you lose rock-paper-scissors? You definitely went, ‘We’re worried about Sun Wooju’s workload lately, who’ll go talk to him? Who wants to be team lead?’"

"..."

"Then the hellish eye-game began; everyone schemed. When you got to rock-paper-scissors... while you were off in your head, they agreed by eye to throw paper."

I grinned.

"Because you always open with rock."

"Huh? That’s why I always lost? Creepy..."

He sucked in a breath, then added defensively:

"But I did mean it."

"I know."

I tapped his back.

Then I beckoned and laughed at the three meerkats peeking from the shop window display.

"Out you come, idiots."

I was still tired to the bone, but grateful.

Lovably dumb idiots.

As they barreled back and pretended nothing had happened, I laughed.

"Hey, Kim Biju. One more ice-cream bet with me."

"Rock-paper-scissors?"

"Yeah."

Grinning triumphantly, Junhyun prepped scissors. Behind him, I shaped my lips: "Scissors."

Biju’s cheek twitched.

Before long, Junhyun’s doleful wail echoed across ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) Las Vegas.

After a few days off in Las Vegas—

We took a sleeper coach the company rented and headed to LA.

"Country roads, take me home!"

We belted John Denver and waved our arms—then, after blinking at endless desert and scrub out the window, we were in LA.

And—

"Huh...?"

Rolling through the city, I saw a familiar face outside.

It was Biju.

"B... Biju!"

When did he get off the bus and run over there? I pressed a hand to the window—

"I’m right here..."

"Oh?"

Guess I wasn’t fully awake.

I rubbed my eyes and looked again—what I’d mistaken for Biju was a massive billboard.

In English: "Happy Birthday, Our Beloved B!"

"Biju."

"Yeah."

"Look. Looks like you’ve got a birthday ad."

"Huuuuuh...!"

Across LA’s main drags, Biju’s face sprawled everywhere like Big Brother.

Our managers said fans worldwide had pooled to buy placements across LA.

Biju and all of us stared out at the city, dumbfounded.

Jiho said:

"It feels like a city ruled by High Priest Kim Biju of the Church of Wooju."

"Ahhh... believe in the Church of Wooju, everyone...!"

Junhyun did a Biju impression with a toy bullhorn; we busted up laughing.

The scale was overwhelming, but for Biju it was moving.

And thanks to Souffle’s efforts, we were... heartbroken.

"Aw, we prepped a surprise party..."

"We were going to act like we forgot and jump-scare him."

"We hid presents..."

We’d planned to wait until he went to the hotel, did the "I don’t have an appetite today..." thing, ducked under the covers and trickled tears—

Then barge in to deliver a moving, glorious mess of a birthday party. Souffle blew it up.

Biju chuckled, exasperated.

"I knew you were ‘pretending to hide’ anyway. I kept quiet because I figured you’d like it if I played along."

"Then why are you crying, hyung."

"I’m not. I... I’m not crying. I am Seo Ri Hyuk..."

Biju clutched the gifts and sobbed. Ambushed for no reason, Ri Hyuk leaned his head against the window in sorrow.

Instead of a surprise, we threw a mini party on the bus, then headed to a restaurant to celebrate Biju’s birthday.

A Korean barbecue place.

Lots of American customers—some recognized us.

"You’re NewBlack, right?"

"We saw a birthday on the billboards."

"That’s so cool."

People came up to chat; the vibe was "oh wow, celebrities."

The Billboard stage must have really hit.

In Vegas we’d shrugged it off—"Well, it’s the awards host city"—but it was our first time seeing Americans beam "I know you!"

You could feel the jump in awareness.

Maybe because of that, more schedules came in.

"Hollywood outlets have requested interviews—we’re researching and picking selectively."

Back at the hotel, Seokhwan ran through the schedule.

"Also some radio and talk show slots."

"Talk show?"

"Interest shot up after the awards—they’re scrambling to book you for a chat."

"Hmm..."

We decided to turn down everything outside print interviews for now.

We weren’t prepped; it’d be hard to handle surprise questions from radio DJs or talk show hosts.

You’d think you can just go on and do a few lines, but even that takes prep.

And in Korea, even if we got nearly devil-edited we could smooth it over with "Hmph! You think we’ll still work with Lemoni?" but here we didn’t even know who was friend or foe yet.

With issues piled up, we filtered out uncertain bookings.

"And this, the TF team already decided to refuse—but the price is so big I wanted your take."

"What is it?"

At Ri Hyuk’s question, Seokhwan answered:

"Ads from Korean companies—mostly firms in the US—that want you as models."

Since we looked hot in the US market, they wanted to hire us.

Ri Hyuk nodded.

"We should turn those down too."

"Why, Ri Hyuk?"

"In America, if you do commercials you’re a B-list star."

A quirky Hollywood thing—"doing ads makes you look lower tier."

If you do one, it’s like a Super Bowl spot—huge only.

Seokhwan laughed and added:

"So American stars go overseas to shoot commercials."

"Ah."

Same difference, but this industry has endless little quirks.

Jiho asked:

"So these companies in the US asked knowing that?"

"Right."

"Mean people..."

I ruffled the grumbling maknae’s hair and smiled.

Then we prepped our last US engagement.

A two-day, thirty-thousand-seat final concert at LA’s Staples Center.

"We showed something great at the Billboard Awards... now we stamp that greatness with the concert."

"Cool NewBlack...!"

"If it’s cool, it’s NewBlack."

But we didn’t know then.

A dark shadow was coming for us...

While NewBlack were wrapped up preparing for day one in LA—

At the same time in Korea, someone let out a dank little laugh.

[snicker]

In a cramped room marked "Editing Suite," zombies with bloodshot eyes staggered out.

Zombies wearing HBS employee badges gathered one by one and headed to a single place.

A spacious conference room.

As the assistant directors filed in, the main producer, Yeo Hoseok, smiled meaningfully.

"All set?"

"Yes, PD."

The ADs handed over USB sticks and cackled.

"Our magnum opus...! Project Lady Black is finally complete...!"

"Good work. Now begins the reign of HBS!"

"Hahahahaha!"

"Hahahahahahaha!"

From Now On, We — romance-fantasy special.

On-air, locked and loaded.