Chapter 23
Chapter 23
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: This Life is Space Star 23
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On the way to the broadcasting station.
It was quiet.
No one was sleeping, yet the atmosphere was eerily still.
Why the heavy mood?
Because today was our first time on a music show.
Our debut on terrestrial TV.
Something had taken the world by storm, and out of nowhere, the station called.
They said we were candidates for number one, so we had to come perform.
When we heard the news, we didn't jump for joy or hug each other—we just stared at one another in a daze.
“Why are we number one candidates?”
“Did we hear that wrong?”
“Manager-nim, hold on. Did you just say number one?”
“Hyungs, we must've misheard it.”
Yoon Seok-hwan, our section chief, nodded at our questions.
“This is real?”
He nodded again.
From that moment, we could barely speak, stammering in shock.
Number one candidates before even debuting?
It was absurdly unrealistic.
Plenty of groups don't hit number one even after three years of promoting, yet raw rookies who hadn't debuted were in the running?
And we were strong contenders at that.
TNT's Blink might dominate album sales, but factoring in digital streams, we were ahead overall.
That's why the station's invite felt like, “You're number one, so come claim it.”
Still, we couldn't help being flustered.
“What do we do, hyung? We're not prepared at all.”
My younger members looked at me with eyes full of expectation, like I had some brilliant solution like during the year-end evaluation. I could only shrug.
“What do you mean? We've gotta give it everything we've got.”
Everything happened in a flash, like beans roasting over lightning.
We had one week to prepare.
We cut sleep to about 30 minutes a day and threw ourselves into rehearsals.
Jang Sowon sunbae was a huge help.
As someone with music show experience, she knew exactly what to focus on.
We never could've pulled it off alone.
We practiced until we were coughing up blood for that week, but we were still anxious.
Could we really pull this off?
“Kids.”
Yoon Seok-hwan, in the passenger seat, turned to look at us.
“You know there'll be tons of people when we get out at the station, right? Reporters too.”
“Yes.”
“Photos from there go straight online. Once they're up, no taking them back, so be super careful with your behavior.”
“Yes.”
“If you don't wanna be remembered as 'cocky rookies strutting after one number one nod,' act right. Got it?”
“We'll keep it in mind.”
“You know greetings are basic, right? The second you step out of the car, heads bowed at all times. No one's lower than you at the station.”
Maybe sensing our nerves, he was nagging twice as much as usual.
After 30 minutes of warnings, Bijoo rubbed his palms, tension easing a bit.
With the heater low for makeup, his breath fogged.
“Hyung, I'm really shaking.”
“Me too.”
“You sure you're shaking? Doesn't look like it.”
I told the skeptical Bijoo,
“Dead serious. Wanna feel my heart?”
“Touch your chest, hyung?”
“Hey, that makes me sound like a perv.”
Realizing how weird it sounded, Bijoo covered his mouth and laughed.
His white teeth flashed evenly.
Ri-hyuk, next to him, grumbled with a displeased face.
“Both of you, quit faking the nerves. We can all tell you're not shaking. It's salt in the wounds for those of us who are.”
“Wow.”
Ji-ho, staring at Ri-hyuk's face from the side, let out an exclamation.
Ri-hyuk furrowed his brow.
“What?”
“Hyung, your face looks insanely good today.”
“Yeah? Makeup turned out well?”
Taking it as praise, Ri-hyuk looked pleased on his own assumption, but the maknae shook his head with an innocent grin.
“Nah. Your eyelids are twitching like crazy. Gotta be 120 times a minute.”
“Shut up. It's magnesium deficiency.”
“Shut up? Our Ri-hyuk, saying that to your cute maknae?”
“Argh, seriously.”
Ji-ho grinned and shoved his face close, so Ri-hyuk pushed it away like he couldn't stand the sight.
The maknae's face squished like a manju bun.
While they bickered, I realized one earbud was out.
“Junghyun asleep?”
“Looks like it.”
“Can't tell if this guy's sleeping or not.”
Bijoo laughed like he'd remembered something.
“You don't know, hyung. How to tell if Junghyun's asleep.”
“There's a way?”
“Yeah, how to tell if Junghyun-hyung's sleeping or not. Check his feet.”
The maknae chimed in, pointing at Junghyun's feet.
Shoes off, so socks only.
Bijoo explained softly.
“He can't sleep with shoes on outside. So he always takes them off to sleep.”
“Weird habit.”
“Junghyun's always been a bit quirky.”
The others nodded in agreement.
Huh.
He's not some fourth-dimensional character.
My confusion must've shown, because Ri-hyuk made a face like he had plenty to say but wouldn't.
“...You'll see once you live with him.”
“But he's a good kid.”
Bijoo added quickly.
No, that makes it weirder.
And why does his face look like a dog owner saying, “My pup doesn't bite”?
* * *
PBS broadcasting station.
The front was buzzing with fans who'd camped out since dawn to catch Music ON performers.
A place where idols arrive in casual clothes, fully exposed.
Fans gathered to glimpse their faves even once, mingled with straight-shot photographers snapping pics.
Thanks to K-pop's global hype, snippets of foreign languages floated around.
Inside the yellow lines, styles varied, but most wore masks or perched on mini ladders, waiting.
Soon, artists stepped out of vans one by one.
“Hello! We're Raviang Rose!”
“One, two, three. With your girls, hello, we're Autumn Girl!”
“Hello! We're Teen Spirit!”
Flashes popped as they greeted from the photo zone.
“Wi-hyeon hyung! So cool!”
“Yu-bin! Yu-bin!”
“Love the song!”
While artists came and went, straight-shotters chatted.
“Lots of rookies this time, huh?”
“One rookie's even a number one candidate.”
“For real? Who?”
“New Black. The ones who collabed with Jang Sowon.”
“That's all Jang Sowon carry. Honestly, would've listened if it was under her name?”
“Sugarfish name value is strong. Digital powerhouse.”
“Hwayi Ent's too much. Instead of fussing over Jang Sowon, fix Girls on Top's song quality. Outfits and track were a total disaster. I hold back 'cause it feels like slamming our girls.”
“Girls on Top fan?”
“Yeah.”
“Tough times lately. Hang in there.”
“Honestly, all Sixty Seconds' fault. If not for those jerks.”
Nods of agreement rippled at the Sixty Seconds diss from one fan.
Especially Raviang Rose and Girls on Top fans, tangled in dating rumors over Joo-wan.
“Girls on Top's here.”
“Coming! Coming!”
“Seen Hana's cheek? How bad must the hate be to slim her face like that. Breaks my heart.”
As Girls on Top finished, murmurs rose from elsewhere.
Photo zone regulars turned.
“What? TNT's not due yet.”
TNT, the hottest boy group, usually arrived last for Music ON.
Not their time.
But fans soon spotted the source.
“Whoa...”
Five young men approached the photo zone.
When they lined up, the crowd gasped.
“Who are they?”
“First-timers today?”
Not generic handsome—strikingly unique visuals.
Seemed lined by age, youngest to oldest from right.
Maknae: handsome but puppy-like when smiling.
Sharp eyes, intellectual vibe.
Tall, solid build, manly.
Pretty boy, oddly graceful moves.
And.
The one drawing most eyes.
Same makeup, but peacocking standout.
Petite face packed with perfect features—unreal.
'No way he's that flawless.'
'Natural nose? Bet it's padded with chalk.'
'He'd survive no edits.'
Lost in thoughts, the five bowed deeply and shouted bright.
“Hello! We're New Black!”
* * *
We were late to react. Way late.
Nerves hit so hard my knees shook.
If I'd relaxed, I might've collapsed.
Not just me—the others were tense too.
Atop the photo zone—like a red heart cushion in the empty lot—we stood, hiding pounding hearts.
“Hello! We're New Black!”
Flashes burst, shutters clicking nonstop.
Gulp.
Swallowing dryly, I forced an awkward smile.
Please don't look nervous. Natural.
“From this side, please!”
Directions flew right away.
We waved toward the voice.
“Hands down! Can't see faces!”
V-signs, thumbs-up.
We'd brainstormed poses in the car, but stiffness won.
Empty lot.
Us in the center.
Strangers snapping away.
Hundreds of times more tense than year-end eval.
What do they think of us?
Do we look like fumbling rookies?
No.
Don't overthink.
Natural, natural.
Seeing Bijoo pose effortlessly next to me, I steadied, smiled, and struck one.
After a bit, voices called.
“Thank you!”
We bowed and replied.
“Thank you!”
So tense—the end felt like release from prison.
Finally grinning wide, we headed inside.
Fences split fans in masks, cameras and phones up, but less intense than photo zone.
We bowed nonstop, greeting as we passed.
Light responses came.
“Loving Something!”
“Fighting!”
“Great song!”
Whoever you are, love you.
For real.
Maybe being at the station, real stage.
Those little words fueled us.
Most were indifferent, though.
Who'd care about other groups at 4-5 AM for their idols?
Still, we smiled big, bowed, and walked on.
* * *
Inside was chaos too.
“Hello! We're New Black!”
Countless greetings to staff, artists—group name repeated endlessly.
Probably more than I'd ever said my own name.
[Waiting Room - Jang Sowon, New Black]
After hectic morning rehearsal, a breather.
While Jang Sowon sunbae stepped out, we gambled for drink run volunteer.
Ri-hyuk, sprawled like his usual low stamina, muttered blankly.
“I'm out. Drained.”
“Not even started and tired? Hey, no. Hair'll mess up—section chief'll kill you.”
“Ri-hyuk.”
At my call, Yoon Seok-hwan smiled at him.
“Hair ruined? I'll bill you for styling.”
“...Sorry.”
“Skip him, then among us... all asleep.”
Minutes ago, now nodding off.
I'm the oldest and fine—these kids.
Gotta tell the trainer their stamina sucks, I thought, leaving.
How many?
Jang Sowon sunbae, stylists, road manager hyung—ten? Eleven?
At the vending machine, I bumped into a familiar face.
Girl group member.
Back view screamed style—curious who—then she turned, and I nearly scowled.
Gil Chae-kyung.
Her plain face flashed a stepped-in-shit look.
Not just you.
Same here.
But I plastered a bright smile and greeted.
“Hello, sunbaenim. Finally meeting on music show.”
“Oh, yeah.”
She managed too.
Brief slip, but queen-consort serene smile returned.
Warm as can be.
Why the change? Our song's killing it.
“First number one candidacy, huh. Congrats, oppa.”
(Translation: We've hit it tons. Yours is first?)
“Thanks, sunbaenim. Pre-debut number one run—still dazed. Feels like a dream sometimes.”
(Translation: Yeah, pre-debut for us.)
“Right? Must be nice. Oh, sunbae? Call me comfy. Debuted middle school—way younger.”
(Translation: You debuted old. I was a kid.)
“Sure, Chae-kyung.”
Her eyes widened at the sudden casual. I smiled.
“...Kidding. You're sunbae—gotta respect. I'm all about manners.”
Gil Chae-kyung bit her lip, stung.
Her warm smile vanished, face icing over.
“Move. Need a drink.”
She shoulder-checked me, fed a bill.
Why does she hate me?
Ji-ho, fine—but why lump me in?
Guilt by association?
Drink in hand, she glanced with a sly smile.
“Number one'd be fun to see.”
“Huh?”
“TNT's the other candidate. Their fans are gunning for you. You know how extreme they are. Even if you win, expect 'rigged' hate floods.”
“Ah.”
“Well, unless someone's at TNT telling 'em not to hate New Black.”
Then.
“Gil Chae-kyung, talking about us?”
Voice from elsewhere.
We turned—boy group member with red-dyed hair stood there.
Gil Chae-kyung hesitated, flustered.
“Uh, Tae-hyun oppa.”
But Tae-hyun ignored her, eyes on me.
They widened huge.
“Woojoo hyung?”
“Been a while, Tae-hyun.”
To Gil Chae-kyung rolling her eyes in confusion, I flashed a bright smile.