NewBlack TV “METRO Behind Cut Ep.04”

A set the size of a small city.

In a place where over a hundred American crew members moved about, the NewBlack members listened to the stage briefing.

Staff: This recreates the Hollywood Station platform on LA Metro’s Red Line.

NewBlack: Wooooah.

Staff: Once we composite CG on this green screen, you get a perfectly convincing subway station.

The subway set on screen had the kind of quality that made you think, “How much did they spend on this?”

Gulp.

The NewBlack members all swallowed in unison.

The leader looked at his ducklings.

Wooju: Guys.

Ducklings: Yes, hyung.

Wooju: Let’s drink.

Ducklings: Okay.

They cracked open plastic bottles and glug glugged their drinks.

Anyone could see it looked like PPL, which made everyone laugh.

From there, the sets built by the American record label started revealing themselves one by one.

Staff: This is the New York subway. If you go over to Section B, we recreated the Chicago subway. Considering on-location expenses and all that, this was the most economical option.

NewBlack: .......

It felt like they had built every famous subway station in the States. The members traded looks.

Ducklings: Hyung.

Wooju: Uh, yeah?

Their faces were remarkably serious.

Ducklings: Should we drink?

Wooju: We definitely should.

The staff clapped and cheered as the members once again twisted off caps and chug chugged their drinks.

If the beverage company had seen it, they would have applauded the PPL.

From morning till night.

After a full day of shooting, we realized just how much money overflows in American entertainment.

“Hyungs, hyungs. I heard from a staff member over there earlier—on-location shoots in the U.S. cost a ton, so they use a lot of CG whenever they can.”

The maknae spoke with eyes wide.

“So those New York backdrops you see in American dramas? A lot of them are composites.”

“......Is that so?”

“They shoot extras walking around in front of green screen like us, and then composite in New York or whatever city background. Flying everyone to New York for one scene costs too much.”

“.......”

Their approach to cost versus benefit was just different from ours.

Then again, our country’s dramas and films use a ton of CG these days, so how much further would the originators of modern pop culture take it?

They said most of the empty bits in our footage would be filled with CG, too. Whenever something felt off and I said, “This part is...,” the director would laugh and say, “We’ll patch it with CG, don’t worry.”

“It’ll be seamless,” he said.

And so, staying at a huge studio on the outskirts of LA, we finished shooting on the LA subway, Chicago subway, and New York subway sets.

“Ughhh....”

On the flight back to Korea.

I reclined in my seat and closed my eyes. As usual, even the voices of sasaengs calling out faded fast.

“Biju.”

“Yes, hyung....”

One thing drifted up, hazy.

“Lying down like this reminds me—didn’t you say something important when we were coming back from Gunsan last time?”

“.......”

“Biju?”

Suddenly a flurry of blanket rustle brushed my cheek.

I cracked an eye at the seat beside me. The blanket was pulled up over his face; I couldn’t see him.

“Are you asleep?”

The spot where his nostrils should be flared with every breath.

“.......”

Sensing he was hiding something, I narrowed my eyes and looked out at the window cloudscape.

Ah. What was it again. But—

Like clouds floating in the stratosphere, it felt like I could grab it if I reached out, yet it wouldn’t come.

“It can’t be that important.”

“.......”

The blanket’s breathing flap settled into a gentle, sleepy rhythm.

“Is it important?”

“.......”

The blanket’s “nose” fluttered.

His reactions were funny enough that I almost kept teasing, but I let it go. When I slid the blanket down, I met Biju’s eyes; he had his chin tucked down, breathing.

“.......”

“I won’t ask. Doesn’t seem like anything big.”

“...I, I didn’t say anything, hyung.”

For the little brother whose forehead was already beading with sweat, I hurriedly handed over Ri Hyuk’s handkerchief and looked back out the window.

“Hey—where’d my handkerchief go?”

“It went missing?”

I quietly set the handkerchief Biju had used on Jiho’s seat in front.

“Hey! You wiped something with my stuff, didn’t you?”

“What are you talking about? Why would I use yours— Huh? Wait, what? Did I use it?!”

I should buy him a new one later. With flowers on it.

Anyway, our U.S. schedule was done.

Now if we finish the concerts this week in Manila, Philippines, and Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, the Southeast Asia tour will be over, too.

You could say the concert tour is almost at its end.

Next month we wrap the Japan concerts starting with Osaka Dome, and in October we finish the Seoul final concert at Sangam World Cup Stadium. Then it’s truly over. The tour that drew close to 850,000 people in total will come to an end.

“We’ve grown. For real.”

From that showcase where we trembled in front of 300 people to today—three years later—we’ve grown unbelievably huge.

Honestly, among domestic idols, we had no real rival now.

Objectively speaking, even if you combined Street Boys and Teen Spirit, who tussle for second place, we were still several times bigger.

Not just at home—no overseas fandom had the heft to threaten us either.

We had moved from being the challengers to being the ones challenged.

The number one spot everyone longs for.

Of course, not every moment is easy or comfortable. As they say, everyone has their burdens; once you reach number one, new worries appear.

“How do we keep this going?”

That thought flashed through our heads the moment we won grand prizes like “Entertainer of the Year” at the Mango Chart Awards and at KMA.

It’s not just us; every top artist probably worries the same.

When asked how it felt to win Album of the Year, the highest honor at the Grammys, Hailey answered like this:

“For that day I felt like I owned the world. So damn happy. But the next day, shit, it gave me a headache. I started thinking, ‘What do I even do now?’”

Once you climb all the way up where you were supposed to, the only “answer” left is maintaining it.

But in showbiz—the endgame of achievement-oriented people—there aren’t many who find real interest in merely maintaining their position. Most work desperately out of fear of falling.

That’s why, once people reach the top of any field, they turn their gaze to find new arenas to challenge.

A movie star with an Academy Award speaks up on environmental issues; a Grammy winner raises a political voice or throws themselves into volunteer work—maybe for these reasons.

We were the same.

Alongside keeping our spot at home, we needed a new challenge.

So we often held family meetings with the younger ones about this topic.

“Hmm, how about we try a new music genre? Make it a thing that we challenge a genre we haven’t tried every time.”

“Now that we have influence, we could use it. Maybe push to bring back a song festival that disappeared. Or scale up an audition.”

“Let’s shoot a musical drama.”

“I dunno. Maybe switch up who takes main or lead vocal... do collabs. Ah, don’t knead your jaw like that. I’ll kill you!”

Mostly, it was about trying things we hadn’t done musically.

Beyond that, we hunted for new challenges in variety shows and dramas; that list alone ran to dozens of pages.

We were that eager for the new.

Maybe that’s why.

“Biju.”

“Yes?”

“Wasn’t today kind of fun?”

I smiled at Biju, who looked at me with round eyes, not getting what I meant.

“I mean shooting dance videos and stuff in another country. Feels like we’ve got a new challenge.”

“Ah.”

“I think it was fun.”

Like summiting Baekdusan and then setting out for the Himalayas next.

Biju smiled back.

“Me too.”

We looked at each other and grinned.

On paper it’s an English song for the U.S. push, but it might be one of those new challenges we needed.

So I hope it does really, really well.

“Time to get the plan rolling.”

For that reason, the METRO promotion this time was going to be pretty unique and fresh.

“Hehehehehe....”

“Ehehehe.”

As Biju and I wore satisfied smiles, the ducklings in nearby seats joined in, laughing without knowing why.

“Hehehehehehehe.”

“Eheheheheh....”

But why is the CEO laughing with us...?

While a certain five-member chaos squad was flying back to Korea—

“Nnnghh....”

On the top floor of TJ Entertainment’s building came a groan.

It was from an older man stroking a piece of porcelain while watching the news on a tablet.

“Mmmmmm.”

Chairman Park Taejun furrowed his brow.

“How is there not a single Trickster article?”

Trickster was slated to release an English track this Friday.

Yet somehow every headline on the portal front page was about NewBlack.

“K-net to air ‘Sun Wooju’s Rest Diary’ with NewBlack’s behind-the-scenes of the new song”

“Lemon Entertainment teases ‘Composer Kim Deokchun also appears on the reality’... Netizens: ‘Kim Deokchun = Wooju spaceship theory proven?’”

“Scarlet continues at #1 with ‘Not Fine’... SNS says ‘Thanks to composer Kim Deokchun’”

It was only natural.

Trickster was a group you could call “rising,” while NewBlack was indisputably the nation’s number one idol.

In buzz, there was no comparison.

“Heh heh heh.”

But TJ Entertainment had more money.

So they had spent an absurd amount feeding reporters, buying them drinks, and managing them.

“Then they ought to earn their money....”

Those who had wagged their tails when TJ paid for dinner were now relentlessly reporting NewBlack news.

And Trickster news? Reported only to the extent paid for, no more.

“Mmm.”

Chairman Park let out a sour hum and tapped the table.

“Could I be wrong?”

Since founding a company called Taejun Records, he had never once second-guessed himself—until recently.

Even for someone so full of conviction, at this point, a bad feeling was unavoidable.

The planning team kept saying, “It’s fine, sir,” telling him not to worry.

“...The way the wind’s blowing feels off.”

No matter how he spun his happy-daydream reels, he couldn’t find a hopeful angle.

That vague idea—maybe they could carve off a slice of NewBlack’s pie—was a very different thing from reality.

With the reveal of Trickster’s English-song project imminent, the internal tremors could be felt all the way up here at the top.

“Maybe...”

Maybe they had prepared too complacently, the thought flashed.

Until now, TJ Entertainment had moved on Chairman Park’s lightning-bolt instincts.

Less rigorous strategy, more the structure where the top producer (the chairman) pointed like a fortune-telling octopus and said, “This will work.”

And every plan so far had succeeded without failure.

“Mmmmm....”

Now, with a foreboding chill as the English release neared, Chairman Park massaged his temples.

Not that he had a solution.

“Director Han.”

“Yes, Chairman.”

“About... the American side. How’s it going? Feels like we haven’t heard much lately.”

He asked about the TV networks they were courting for U.S. promotion. Director Han adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses.

“No replies yet.”

“Still?”

“Yes. We’re pressing them, but all we get back is that they’re in internal meetings. With NewBlack coming back soon, they’re hesitant about putting K-pop idols on talk shows consecutively.”

“Those Americans, honestly....”

If it were Korean broadcasters, they’d be easy to swing.

The power a label wields when it builds ties with PDs and chiefs at the networks....

“Argh. HBS is dying.”

“Look at that. HBS tried to kick NewBlack and tripped itself!”

“Wow, NewBlack killed HBS...!”

Chairman Park paused, licking his lips.

“Maybe even domestic networks have it rough lately....”

Director Han Youngjun continued.

“We’re in continued contact, but... you should be prepared for it not to come together.”

“So basically, a bust.”

“...Yes.”

At this distance from the release date, they should already have confirmed which shows they’d appear on.

“Ever since Lemon Entertainment’s Park Gyuho flew to the States, the networks’ reactions have been a bit....”

“I can see it without looking.”

People see CEO Park Gyuho chuckling and think he’s a figurehead who just spends money without real power.

But Park Gyuho is like an octopus.

People don’t know how clever—and dangerous—an octopus is.

“Nnngh.”

With the U.S. route blocked, Chairman Park felt the exits closing in.

In the end, after agonizing, he chose the one remaining option.

“Double the promo budget.”

“Yes, Chairman.”

“Promotion... at this point, all we’ve got is promotion.”

Flood it with promo spending.

He chose the method production companies and distributors use when a movie tanks, and shook his head to quell the anxiety.

“It’s not over yet.”

Who knows?

Maybe if they carpet-bombed the promo budget, people would take interest and Trickster’s song would blow up.

“We can still save it.”

He fixed the ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) idea in his head: somehow force attention onto Trickster by blasting out promo money.

It sounded like a decent plan.

For now.

The next day, 10 a.m.

“NewBlack begins promotions for the new song today... ‘Please look forward to it’”

A college student looking at her phone went, hoh, interested.

“Are they doing something again?”

She remembered the treasure-hunt craze when “Dokkaebi” came out.

Maybe there was something ordinary people could join, too. She watched with interest.

Just then, the chime announcing the subway’s arrival rang out, and she set her phone down.

The train was pulling into the station.

Her destination was Hongdae Entrance Station, one stop from here.

[Now arriving....]

Yawning to the usual announcement, the college student waited for the train.

But—

“Huh...?”

For a moment she felt something was off.

This was Hapjeong.

Not a station with few boardings and exits.

Even if it was a quiet time, there should have been a fair number getting off, but far fewer people disembarked than usual.

And—

“...?”

There were more people on the train than usual.

Seats were available, but... did it crowd like this at this hour? That was the feeling.

And the people seemed strange, too.

“Is there something?”

Like they were recording or filming, they were all holding their phones up toward empty air. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

But no matter how she looked, there was nothing there.

“.......”

She swallowed and hugged her textbook tight.

Because the mood was odd.

People were laughing in unison—hahaha—and saying, “When’s it coming out again?” looking up at the ceiling.

She gingerly asked a friendly-looking middle-aged woman beside her.

“Excuse me....”

“Yes?”

“Is something... happening on the train right now?”

“Oh, you just got on? Then you might not know. There’s an announcement. Wooju.”

“Sorry...?”

Wooju?

That Wooju?

Blinking, she asked again.

“Wooju as in the spaceship ‘wooju’?”

“Yes, that Wooju.”

Then the woman said a voice would come out soon, so just wait.

Soon a murmur rippled—“It’s coming, it’s coming”—and Wooju’s voice flowed out.

[Hello.]

The voice was so good she almost let out a startled “gasp.”

The student stopped texting her friends and lifted her phone.

[I’m Sun Wooju of NewBlack, and I’ll be your announcer today. It’s a humble voice, but I’ll do my best to make your ride comfortable~!]

Passengers clapped.

You could hear it from the next car, too.

She was clapping as well, about to text her friends, “Holy crap! NewBlack is doing the announcements right now!!!!!!” when—

[The next station is approaching.]

Wooju’s voice resounded.

[The next station is Hongdae Entrance, Hongdae Entrance Station. Doors will open on the left. For Incheon International Airport....]

Wooju gave calm transfer guidance.

He did it like he’d trained as a professional voice actor—the seniors in the priority seats chuckled, “Good!” when—

As the train neared the station, Wooju made small talk.

[Hongdae Entrance—literally, the entrance to Hongik University. But the entrance to Hongdae is still a ways from here. The station that grins and offers a steep hill to those who get off thinking it’s the front gate.]

People burst into laughter.

[It’s probably vacation, but if any college students are heading to the library or campus, fighting!]

At his cheering voice, the student let out an “oh my,” smiling.

A wistful tone followed.

[I hope you have a wonderful college life. As you know, I couldn’t go to college. I couldn’t take the college exam....]

“Cough!”

“Hack!”

“Oh my....”

The announcement toyed with everyone on board; coughs and laughter popped up all over.

A buoyant mood.

Soon they were arriving at her destination, Hongdae Entrance Station, but just as she lifted her butt to stand, she sat back down.

And she started to understand why people weren’t getting off.

“School can wait, but NewBlack is once-in-a-lifetime.”

Where else could you hear NewBlack’s voices this vividly if not here?

She smiled at the bewildered faces of the newbies boarding at Hongdae Entrance.

A camaraderie bloomed among the crowd.

“Ride it to the end.”

Those who boarded would not get off.

Those who hadn’t boarded wanted to.

At the quietest hour, a subway crisis was unfolding.