"Ohohohoho!"

A trilling laugh.

I narrowed my eyes at the sort of laugh you’d expect from a duchess flicking a fan.

What.

But Grandma’s laughter didn’t last.

She’d been chuckling at Biju and Teacher Kim Jeongnam; then her eyes met mine and she jolted.

Her eyes basically said, Ah, hell! You scared me!

The bright, broadcast-ready smile vanished in a blink, and a sulky look drifted over her face as she stared at me.

All around us people were gasping, “The owner looks so happy...!” in awe.

“You scared me. What are you doing here?”

“What do you think.”

I did a little magic, shff, conjured a single rose and held it out to Madam Kim Deoksun.

“I came to see my grandma.”

“I don’t much like roses. If you’re giving something, give cash.”

“...Just take it.”

Grandma’s cheeks twitched as she took the flower. That meant she was thrilled.

“Oh my, get over here.”

“Yeah.”

“How’s your health?”

“We talked on the phone yesterday. I’m completely fine now.”

“What did you eat in America to end up with gastritis? If you’ve got something good, share it. You, always stuffing yourself alone.”

I hugged Grandma tight and smiled while her nagging ran on and on.

Warmth carried in her worry and affection.

Her wrinkled hand, a head shorter than me, patted my back while the crew beyond the cameras—and Teacher Kim Jeongnam—watched with fond smiles.

No idea why Biju’s eyes were glossy again, but...

“You have to take good care of yourself.”

“Mm.”

“All you’ve got is your face.”

People around us burst out laughing at Grandma’s line.

“Grandma.”

“Right.”

“You look amazing today.”

“...Do I?”

“You look like Yubaba.”

Grandma tilted her head; the staffer beside her searched “Yubaba” and showed her.

And—

“Ack! Ow! Ack!”

“You crazy brat, honestly...!”

Smack! Smack!

I dodged those crisp back-of-the-head slaps and the people around us broke into laughter.

Grandma led us into the elevator; we got off on the fourth floor.

The moment we sat at a wide table, I felt eyes pouring in from every side.

“Wooooow...!”

People who’d been eating stood up, lifted their phones to film me and Biju, and whispered behind cupped hands.

Same old scenery, nothing to fuss over.

“Why does everyone here know you...?”

“Woooow!”

You’ve probably wondered this watching restaurants on TV.

All those customers who throw a thumbs-up and say, “It’s delicious!”—who are they, really?

Most of them are acquaintances of the owner. Regular customers just want to eat and leave; during a long shoot, they don’t have the energy to go, “Oh my, amazing!”

And the portrait rights thing is easier when you don’t have to mosaic faces.

So today’s diners on the fourth floor of the annex were fixtures of the Baekban Street scene.

“It’s Wooju! Wooju!”

“Everyone doing well?”

Knowing this bit would be edited for TV anyway, I simply went around shaking hands and greeting people.

The flower-shop owner, the snack-shop owner, and the mother and daughter from the pork-bone stew place—warm hellos all around.

“Oh, Huiyeon, long time no see. Been well?”

“Hello. Oppa...”

“This is Biju.”

“Oh! Hello!”

Biju bowed with a bright smile, and the only daughter from the stew place lit up even more.

I asked,

“...Is Biju your ultimate bias?”

“Yes.”

“Grandma! Ban Huiyeon from our Baekban place!”

Laughter rolled out, and Grandma clicked her tongue.

“Act your age. Such a pea-sized mind. Don’t know when you’ll ever grow up.”

After exchanging greetings with all the familiar faces, I sat down.

Teacher Kim Jeongnam, who’d been shaking hands with other dads and owners, pulled out his chair and asked,

“You know everyone here.”

“Yes. I’ve seen them since I was little. They all run businesses on this street.”

Seeing all these faces again, it hit me.

Come to think of it, I hadn’t been down this street in ages.

Earlier this year, I was too busy rolling around at Grandma’s new house with Ri Hyuk to notice how this area had changed.

I just assumed business was good as usual... but not this good.

“How did it get like this...?”

“You didn’t know, Wooju?”

“No.”

Grandma had texted, “Expanding the shop,” and I figured she meant widening a cramped space a bit.

I didn’t know this was the expansion.

“This place is really big...”

Teacher Kim Jeongnam let the sentence trail and gave me a doubtful look.

The second I saw that expression, I knew it was time to clear the air.

“Oh, don’t get the wrong idea—this scale is really recent.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. You know Newbulbaek, right?”

“Sure~ I heard they turned that T Network rest stop into hell.”

When I explained how Grandma’s business ballooned after Newbulbaek, everyone went, “Ah,” as if it all made sense.

Biju, taking in the elegant artwork around us, pointed to the wall behind us.

“Huh? There’s something hanging on the wall.”

I turned. A plaque detailing Grandma’s career was mounted there.

Beside a kindly caricature of Grandma’s face, the name [Kim Deoksun] was written.

Under the title “Queen of Baekban,” it also said “Queen of Baekban” in English.

From her birth onward, the milestones of Grandma’s life ran down the plaque, and a familiar date caught my eye: 14.06.19.

“Our debut day’s on here.”

The line beneath drew my attention.

— 2014.06.19 Grandson debuted. Grandson-farming, smashing success.

Below that, a string of cheerful notes from 2016: “Newbulbaek appeared,” “Business suddenly boomed,” and so on.

I was wiping my hands with a wet towel, reading, when—

Rrrrrrk.

Aunt Sookja, who’d helped in the kitchen since forever, pushed over a cart in a crisp suit.

“Oh.”

I greeted her warmly.

“Hi, Auntie.”

“Not Auntie anymore.”

Grandma pointed to the name tag pinned on Aunt Sookja’s chest—a handsome badge fixed with a chrome pin.

“She’s the manager now.”

“Manager Sook...!”

Grandma and Aunt Sookja nodded with contented smiles.

Side dishes soon began to land, and while Grandma gave a professional rundown of each one, Teacher Kim Jeongnam marveled.

“How many sides is this? One, two, three... eighteen?”

“These are the basics.”

“Goodness...”

A perfect smile bloomed on the tough-faced middle-aged actor. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

Same for me and Biju.

“Wow. I have to take a picture.”

I flashed a V at Biju’s phone, but his camera tilted toward the food.

“Hyung, you’re casting a shadow.”

“Mm...”

I lowered my hand as if nothing had happened, and the crew snorted.

Then with each grilled fish, steamed egg, and soybean paste stew that arrived, Teacher Kim Jeongnam beamed.

“The flavor’s deep~”

“Right? Delicious?”

“Growing up on this, you were bound to get big. Oh, Grandma’s skill is just... wow...”

When the original Newbulbaek hit the table, the crew behind the cameras literally gulped.

We shot the main dishes, then Grandma sent a video letter to the camera—“Please look after my grandson”—and even belted a few trot songs for the patrons.

“Cut!”

“Great work, everyone!”

The moment cameras went off, the crew scrambled to claim the empty tables.

Soon the set menus rolled out, and cries of “Wow! Amazing!” “This is really good,” filled the hall.

“Wooju, could I maybe get a picture?”

“Sure~”

I took photos with the neighbors and slowly ate dessert.

Over cinnamon punch, Teacher Kim Jeongnam asked a few personal questions, and we chatted.

Grandma joined our table midway, and I set up a video call with the younger ones.

—Hello, Grandma!

“Jiho?”

—Yes~

“Where are you?”

—We’re on a drama set right now. Everyone, say hello. This is the Great Queen Deoksun, founder of Newbulbaek! Scream, let’s gooooo!

—Waaaaaaa!

I could picture the drama staff fawning over our maknae.

—Wow, Wooju and Biju get to go play just living the dream. Meanwhile the maknae is working so hard.

“What are you talking about. We’re working too.”

—Eating and watching isn’t work! That’s playing.

At that, Biju and I twitched our cheeks and pointed the phone at the host of , Teacher Kim Jeongnam, sitting next to us.

He smiled.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Kim Jeongnam—five years now of eating and loafing.”

—...!

Maknae’s eyes went wide and he froze.

Then, like a busted bobblehead, he kept bowing to ninety degrees and straightening.

—Oh oh oh! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ve lost my mind!

“You’re not wrong, though~”

—Auuugh!

We all laughed at our maknae flailing in front of a respected veteran actor.

We wrapped the break by cheering the maknae back to set, then I called Ri Hyuk.

He greeted Grandma shyly and asked,

—Did you finish all the side dishes?

“Yeah. Scraped them clean.”

—Good. Leaving lots of banchan becomes an environmental issue in the end.

The relaxed crew coughed and started shoveling in side dishes.

Next up was Junghyeon...

—The customer you have dialed cannot be reached...

Teacher Kim Jeongnam laughed.

“Everyone’s personalities are very distinct.”

“Junghyeon almost never checks his phone. Jiho’s glued to his phone all day, and Ri Hyuk has this compulsion about answering calls, so he picks up well... But this one takes forever for that ‘1’ to disappear on a message.”

Chatting with the members like that, we sipped the cinnamon punch in the happy, boisterous mood.

Fourth floor vantage, so the evening view of Gunsan spread beyond the glass.

Madam Kim Deoksun came up beside me.

“What-do-you-call-it—the view’s nice, right?”

“Yeah. It is.”

Looking out at the evening, Grandma set her wrinkled hand on my shoulder.

“It’s all thanks to me.”

“You made it happen. I grew up like this thanks to you.”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“Huh?”

“Thanks to me.”

“...”

I watched her smile mistily to herself and laughed.

Sometimes I wonder where my personality came from. Maybe I inherited it from Grandma.

I looked at her and smiled.

From starting a baekban shop to reaching the rooftop of this four-story building and looking out—it must have taken decades.

For someone like me, who scored success in three or four years, that span is hard to grasp.

What was Grandma thinking now?

“...”

I took her hand without a word, and she squeezed mine back.

As if to say that, since we couldn’t always meet, she wouldn’t let go when we did.

Feeling the grain of those wrinkles, I set down every worry for a moment and enjoyed the noisy, cheerful air around us.

“This is nice.”

“Isn’t it just.”

I was so glad we’d agreed to appear on this show.

“Mr. Wooju, Mr. Biju—thank you so, so much. Thanks to you, we got a ton of great footage today.”

“Thank you for your hard work~”

“Get home safe, and the episode airs in two weeks. Please tune in!”

We said warm goodbyes to the crew and split.

Watching the staff load gear into the van, the PD seemed to remember something.

“Oh—right.”

“Yes, PD?”

“That Woobiz performance you did for the opening—could we cut that into a short clip and use it as a teaser?”

“Of course.”

It sounded like a great idea, so we said yes.

After parting with the PD, we hugged Madam Kim Deoksun, who was reluctant to see us go.

“Then we’ll get going, Grandma.”

“If you’re tired, sleep here.”

“We’ve got new-song choreography practice. Everyone’s free tonight and meeting at ten.”

If we stuck to plan, we’d practice choreo till five a.m., then head to the next schedule.

Then grab three or four hours’ sleep.

Squeeze in some concert rehearsal...

“I’ll come again for Chuseok anyway. It won’t be long.”

“Right.”

Biju trotted in for a hug too, then we climbed into Mr. Minsu’s car waiting out front.

We waved until Grandma and Manager Sookja were out of sight, then sank into our seats.

“Uuugh...”

“Hyung, great job todaaay...”

We traded lazy smiles in the dark car.

It was a healing show, so shooting had been fun all day, but tromping around from morning till evening still eats at your stamina.

“Ahh.”

I stretched hard and loosened up, then chatted quietly with Biju.

Mostly about the program.

We took a quick pass at whether we’d slipped up anywhere and how to make it better next time.

“I’m so bummed I couldn’t see Grandma’s house. Ri Hyuk said it was amazing last time.”

“First I’ve heard of that.”

“Ri Hyuk never praises things to your face.”

True.

Our fourth gripes to your face and praises behind your back.

Biju let out a little whine and looked out at Gunsan receding.

“I wanted to visit your father’s memorial too.”

“We can come again.”

“You think we’ll get the chance?”

“Sure.”

As we chatted, I also thanked Biju.

“Thanks today, Biju.”

“Me?”

“For letting me tag along.”

Part of me felt a little sorry.

In a way, this program should’ve had Biju as the main and me as support, but since we were in Gunsan, it felt like I became the main.

“Tag along? I was happier with you there. If I’d done it alone, I would’ve been so lonely...”

“You say that, but you’d have done great.”

“Lonely is lonely.”

Biju smiled.

“I’ve never liked doing things solo... Being on something with you like this is the best.”

His gentle voice drifted through the car.

“I get energy from the people I love. Rather than reading alone like Ri Hyuk, I like having people I love around, whatever I’m doing.”

“Then what about a solo someday?”

“Mm... I’ll pass.”

Biju seemed to picture someone.

“I asked Senior Taehyeon a few things about solo work. He said it gets really lonely.”

“I’ve heard that.”

“Yeah. It’s not that there aren’t upsides, but it’s different from group activities.”

Hanbyeol too, and the members at TNT who’ve started solo work—they do look a bit lonely.

“So I just want to keep doing group activities. As long as my cartilage allows...”

We both laughed a little sadly.

Then, as Biju nodded to the radio’s music and stared out the window, I drifted into thought too.

Maybe because he always takes care of me and the younger ones.

Because he puts us before himself—Biju is always the member I make sure to take care of first. Not out of obligation, but because when someone looks after me, I want to look after them.

And—

I click with all the /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ younger ones, but on stage, my synergy with him is the best.

Thinking back to the Woobiz stage we’d just done, I spoke without meaning to. Maybe the drowsiness loosened my tongue.

“Biju.”

“Yeah...?”

His voice was hazy—he’d been on the edge of sleep.

“This year’s tight, but next year, want to try a unit? Like dropping a digital single.”

“I’d love that.”

“I’ll have to run it by the kids when we’re back, but it feels like it’d be fun.”

“I’m good with anything...”

“Mm-hmm.”

He was starting to nod off on my shoulder—

And the moment I pictured plans for a unit, my sleep vanished.

“Biju.”

“Wuh... weh? ...Yeah?”

“If we’re doing a unit, we start with a song.”

“...”

I grabbed the about-to-cry-with-joy Biju and pulled out my laptop.

If it’s for next year, we prep now so it’s smooth then.

I went through the tracks from the song camp one by one, grinning.

Biju rested his head on my shoulder, eyes like a crucian carp.

“Hyung. Thinking about it... a solo might be okay too...”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Sometimes working alone is...”

“Right, right.”

“You’re not listening, are you?”

“Don’t worry.”

“You’re not listening at all...”

He was trying to lighten my load, and I just nodded along while slotting another future project into my head.

Title: [Woobiz]

His voice kept murmuring at my ear, fading like surf.

“I’ve been lying to you, actually. I’m Rain Alcohol.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I’ve actually been running a fan account. It’s me.”

“Sure~”

I glanced at him, oddly relieved by his breathy confession, then fixed on the sound in front of my eyes.

“...Huh?”

Something important had just brushed past.

Probably nothing... right?