Chapter 29
Chapter 29
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 29
Chapter Title: This Life is Space Star
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The host of Music Cafe, Ha Seung-ju, sat with his arms crossed.
His face was expressionless.
‘How long has it been since I last had an idol on?’
Ha Seung-ju gazed at the young man who had stepped onto the stage.
His first impression: he was handsome, no doubt about it.
Standout even among today’s idols.
Idols often looked great on stage, but their visuals tended to drop in dramas or movies. Seon Wooju, though, seemed like he’d hold up even on the big screen.
Striking looks.
Even from a distance, his features stood out with crystal clarity, like higher resolution.
The writers who had been watching the rehearsal exchanged comments.
“Oh, he’s handsome.”
“Senior, first time seeing him?”
“First time in person. Where’d you see him?”
“I met him recently for a pre-interview.”
“That was them? Lucky draw. I got Jo Yuri’s band this time.”
The writers chuckled, picturing the indie band with piercings all over their faces.
“The kid on stage now is the leader, right?”
“From the interview, he’s the one who co-composed with Jang Sowon.”
“Oh, interesting.”
“So he’s the visual member?”
“Who knows.”
“Why ‘who knows’?”
At the sub-writer’s question, the youngest writer pondered before answering.
“If we’re just talking looks, Woojoo’s the handsomest, but the interview made it iffy.”
“Iffy how?”
“Lemon Entertainment’s an actor agency too, so they’re all visuals. Like a sushi assortment—every type’s there. The one on stage now and the maknae are pretty boys from model school, there’s this macho guy named Junghyun, and two pretty boy types.”
“Pretty boys? Those two over there?”
“Yep.”
“Which one sang Something?”
“Oh, Ri-hyuk? The sweet-looking one’s Bijoo, the cool one’s Ri-hyuk.”
“Aha.”
Ha Seung-ju kept a bored expression as he overheard the chatter.
What did the shell matter? It was the contents that counted.
He granted their point on visuals, but the singing? We’ll see.
‘Handsome, sure, but will the skills match?’
New Black had been booked not long ago.
A junior composer he was close with, Jo Kyu-hwan, had called asking to feature the group he was producing.
-Senior, please do me this favor.
“You think my show’s for promoting rookies?”
-They’re not just any rookies. They topped the charts this time.
“Whatever.”
-Senior.
“Send me their practice videos. I’ll decide.”
Even though Music Cafe aired late-night, Ha Seung-ju’s strict standards had built its reputation.
Even if the CP pushed from above, he’d reject if the skills didn’t cut it.
Knowing his temperament, Jo Kyu-hwan chuckled.
-You won’t regret it.
The Music Cafe staff all approved after seeing the emailed New Black practice videos.
-And there’s this kid named Woojoo—he’s the real deal. I bet even you’ll find him intriguing, Senior.
Ha Seung-ju smiled recalling Jo Kyu-hwan’s bold claim.
Fat chance.
Having played piano since childhood, composed countless songs, and rubbed shoulders in entertainment, he was a seasoned veteran.
Unless it was a legendary singer.
No way an undebuted idol’s piano would pique his interest...
“...Huh?”
He was startled when Seon Wooju started playing.
It wasn’t bad at all.
Like a piano audition prep student. Incredible for an idol.
And the sense too.
‘Jazz, huh.’
Perfect fit for the late-night slot.
Great song choice.
But what caught his eye wasn’t the technique or selection.
The way he struck the keys on stage.
The gaze, breathing, finger movements.
It felt familiar somehow.
‘Who is it?’
Like fingerprints, every instrumentalist had unique traits.
Different finger lengths, breathing, rhythm dynamics.
Seon Wooju’s jazz piano felt familiar.
In a good way.
Rubbing his temple, Ha Seung-ju dredged up old memories.
Finally, it clicked.
“...Myung-ju hyung?”
The PD next to him tilted his head at Ha Seung-ju’s stunned look.
“What’s up, Seung-ju?”
“Kim PD.”
The MC pointed his pale, long finger at the stage.
“Anything unusual in that kid’s background?”
“Unusual how?”
“Like his parents.”
“Dunno. Didn’t hear at the meeting.”
Hallucination?
As Seon Wooju played on stage, the PD asked slyly.
“What do you think, Seung-ju? Piano-wise, he’s the best guest so far.”
“He plays well.”
“Sounds soulless.”
Ignoring the PD, Ha Seung-ju recalled someone’s words.
-You’ll find that kid’s piano intriguing too, Senior.
The piano ended, and New Black members plus Jang Sowon took the rehearsal stage.
But Ha Seung-ju’s eyes stayed on Seon Wooju.
‘Gotta check.’
Interest sparked in his bored heart.
* * *
Rehearsal wrapped without a hitch.
Thanks to practice sessions that nearly caused nosebleeds, and the thrill of a stage after so long.
Ri-hyuk, as main vocal, had belted it out for four weeks straight, but we’d only done choruses on music shows.
Time to unleash the pent-up energy.
No need to fake excitement—our members tore up the rehearsal stage with genuine hype.
The staff seemed pleased.
Writers from below gave a few notes on hand gestures, but that was it.
“Everything checks out.”
A middle-aged man with a rolled-up script tucked under his armpit—the main PD of Music Cafe—looked up at us satisfied.
“New Black, you confident you can nail the real show like this?”
“Yes!”
“Good. Great job. Wait in the green room till further notice. Writers covered the notes. Sowon’s got broadcast experience, so no worries there?”
“No worries, PD-nim.”
Jang Sowon winked, and the PD nodded approvingly.
As we headed down after her to the green room.
Someone grabbed my shoulder last.
“Woojoo, right?”
“...Huh?”
It was Music Cafe host Ha Seung-ju holding my arm.
Salt-and-pepper black hair.
Horn-rimmed glasses gave a neat, intellectual vibe. Elegant like a British gentleman from a spy flick.
Snapping out of my daze, I hurriedly bowed.
“Hello, sunbaenim. New Black’s Woojoo.”
“No need to freak. Been watching rehearsal from the audience seats.”
“Didn’t expect you to talk to me...”
He smiled softly at my fidgeting—gentler than his stern look suggested.
While the next act, a rough-looking indie band, took the stage, Ha Seung-ju led me to an audience seat.
“Sit comfy.”
“Yes.”
“No need to glue your legs together.”
“Yes!”
“Answer casually too.”
“Yes.”
“Mind a couple questions? Might get personal.”
“Fine by me.”
“Saw online you’re a Seon. Which Seon clan?”
...Yes?
A line from a crime flick popped up: ‘Which Choi are you?’
Flustered, but I answered straight.
“Uh, Boseong Seon clan.”
“I see.”
His eyes sharpened behind the glasses.
“Then what’s your relation to Seon Myung-ju?”
Ten times more shocked than the surprise party recently.
What?
How’d he know that name?
“Your piano playing’s a dead ringer for someone. Finger work, style—spot on. Could be my mistake, but it sure looked similar.”
I worked my lips.
First thought someone tipped him off, but no.
This pianist clocked it just from watching me play.
Eerie instinct.
What now?
Even pre-interviews skipped it—I’d avoided mentioning.
After a beat, I decided on honesty.
“My father.”
“As I thought.”
Ha Seung-ju smiled.
His vibe shifted instantly.
From intellectual Brit to familiar uncle.
“You’re Myung-ju hyung’s son?”
“You know my dad?”
“You don’t know me?”
Ha Seung-ju beamed.
“Came over to your place a lot when you were a baby.”
“...?”
“Makes sense you wouldn’t remember that age.”
“And he passed long ago...”
Ha Seung-ju winced, gauging my reaction, but I smiled it off.
“No worries, sunbaenim.”
“Anyway, nice to meet you, Woojoo.”
His eyes shone with nostalgia.
“That kid grew up to debut as an idol... Time flies. Huh, your nose is exactly like his?”
Under his scrutinizing gaze, I smiled awkwardly.
No clue how to respond.
He’d visited home in my childhood, close to Dad, but I remembered zilch.
Parents’ faces were hazy—others even more so.
He kept expressing delight.
Pride, maybe.
Tender affection in his eyes.
Ha Seung-ju gazed wistfully, ignoring the rehearsal.
“Ahem.”
Catching himself staring, he cleared his throat and changed tack.
“Keeping Myung-ju hyung under wraps on purpose?”
“No, not a secret... just weird advertising it myself.”
“Fair.”
He nodded understandingly.
“How much airtime you got?”
“About ten minutes post-edit, I heard.”
“You’re here to boost your name, right?”
“Yes.”
“More eyes, the better.”
Stroking his chin, Ha Seung-ju said.
“How about this? Owe Myung-ju hyung big time. So here’s a proposal.”
“What kind...?”
“I’ll bump your group’s airtime. Trim a minute from others—easy.”
Huge favor.
In this industry, folks lobbied for ten extra seconds.
“And these offers usually have strings.”
“Right.”
He nodded.
“Your setlist’s limited anyway. No extras prepped. Talk segments need thought too...”
I could guess what was coming.
“How about chatting about Myung-ju hyung?”
Tough call.
Entertainers sold family ties for one more second—no guarantees.
Yet he offered perks by cutting others.
The catch was tricky.
“What do you think?”
The man who turned Music Cafe’s dismal ratings around waited for my answer.
Looking at Ha Seung-ju, I parted my lips.
* * *
7 PM.
Time to record Music Cafe.
Audience settled, the open hall buzzed with chatter.
Everyone hyped for the show.
Pre-MC wrapped, and the FD on stage clapped the slate.
“Recording starts!”
Soft BGM faded in.
Ha Seung-ju in a tux drew applause.
On TV: fancy [Ha Seung-ju’s Music Cafe] title, full shot of PBS open hall.
-Welcome, audience. Glad you’re at Ha Seung-ju’s Music Cafe.
Cheers for the MC’s smooth voice.
-Weather says spring’s fully here. Much warmer, right?
Yeses echoed.
-Lots more couples than winter. Welcome. Great date spot.
Light laughs at the self-praise.
-They call spring the season of flings lately. To share that warmth, we’ve got special guests today.
First guests performed.
Hongdae’s hot indie band opened.
Watching the feed in the green room, we were impressed.
“Strong start.”
Tough lineup.
Buster, the indie band topping charts lately.
As their sweet spring tune played, we warmed up.
We were fifth-to-last.
Thought it’d drag, but time flew—we got the call.
“Jang Sowon team! Get ready!”
We rushed after the darting FD to backstage.
Stairs revealed the stage.
Same lights, same setup as rehearsal, but the air felt charged.
Crowd filling the hall awaited us.
Way different tension from music shows.
“Reminds me of year-end eval, right?”
Similar vibe last year.
Skills and confidence way up since, but this massive stage brought back that humility.
Members nodded.
Jang Sowon sunbae eyed our huddle—like penguins—fondly.
“Great job on the month’s promos. Nail Music Cafe, and we’re done. So...”
She met each of our eyes.
“Let’s enjoy it.”
I extended my hand; others piled on.
Eyeing the FD’s ‘wait’ gesture, we whispered ‘fighting’ and raised our hands.
-Now, a fresh team. You’re a spy if you don’t know them? Collab team dating all of Korea.
Amid excited cheers, we deep-breathed.
Then hit the stage.
Thud.
Wooden stairs underfoot, heart pounding.
Air frozen.
Spotlights and eyes poured on us; I smiled.
Time to show it.
The finale stage of this promo.