Chapter 31
Chapter 31
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: This Life is Space Star 31
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Seon Myung-ju.
It was the name of a world-renowned pianist who had been famous fifteen years ago.
“Ah……!”
Gasps erupted from spots throughout the audience.
That was how famous he was.
The reactions came mostly from those in the audience over thirty.
Seon Myung-ju.
To be precise, he wasn’t your typical classical pianist.
His specialty was jazz.
Starting with winning the top prize for outstanding performer at an international jazz competition, Seon Myung-ju had become a legend in the jazz world. He was named Musician of the Year at various awards and even graced the covers of the world’s top music magazines.
His life story was a hot topic as well.
The tale of an orphan who discovered his piano talent and rose to global stardom.
He had been unknown while active in Korea, but as he gained massive popularity in America, Europe, and beyond, his name finally reached his homeland.
Especially during the tough late 90s amid the IMF crisis, when the nation was escaping reality by watching baseball and golf, people followed his world tour closely.
When all of Korea was steeped in gloom, Seon Myung-ju playing piano on the grandest stages of the Americas became a beacon of hope and pride for many.
But even that brilliance didn’t last.
On his way abroad for a tour, the plane carrying Seon Myung-ju and his wife crashed, claiming their lives.
It was shocking news for those who lived through the late 90s.
So, it was only natural that people let out sighs when Seon Wooju revealed his father.
To encounter the son of a celebrity once beloved by the nation, now pursuing a singing career.
Not everyone knew Seon Myung-ju, though.
‘Who’s Seon Myung-ju?’
Music Cafe drew crowds interested in music, so many knew the name, but for young couples there just for a casual night out, it was unfamiliar.
Some even sneakily pulled out their phones to type “Seon Myung-ju” into the search bar.
Those who checked wiki pages or the like soon widened their eyes.
The people photographed with him were no ordinary figures.
The U.S. president of the time, globally famous artists.
They were so impressive that one might suspect photoshop. It was hard to imagine the impact his achievements had on the public back then.
“As expected.”
The PD in the sub-control room whistled.
“He’s got buzz factor.”
* * *
The story about my dad wasn’t a secret.
I’d always thought it would come out eventually, so when Ha Seung-ju asked, I was startled but composed myself quickly.
I’d expected a day like this.
It was just a bit sudden.
When Music Cafe MC Ha Seung-ju made the proposal, I said I’d think about it.
Because this wasn’t just my decision to make.
“……What should we do, Grandma?”
In the hallway outside the waiting room, I called Grandma.
Talking about my parents on a broadcast wasn’t something I could decide alone.
The crash victims weren’t just Dad.
Her precious only daughter, raised like a gem, had boarded a plane with her son-in-law and perished in the crash.
I remember Grandma’s heartache, unable to even recover her child’s body.
Bringing up my parents would inevitably stir talk of the accident too, reopening Grandma’s old wounds.
After carefully explaining everything, Grandma gave a simple reply.
-Do whatever you want.
“Huh?”
-Do what your heart tells you. It’s all in the past anyway.
She wasn’t saying it just for me; she truly seemed at peace with it now.
I caught the lingering emotion in her voice, though.
A hint of hesitation.
Was it longing for her only daughter? But her next words surprised me.
-But are you okay with it?
“Huh? With what?”
-You, dummy. Are you okay?
It was worry for me.
Of course, it wasn’t a story I was dying to tell.
But fifteen years had passed since my parents died.
Their faces had grown faint in my memory over that long time.
If it hadn’t been this long, I couldn’t have brought it up at all.
-Seon Myung-ju, huh? That’s surprising.
Ha Seung-ju adjusted his glasses, feigning shock.
I smiled.
Broadcast pros sure know how to act.
-Did the other members know too?
The audience’s eyes turned to the members. New Black nodded calmly at the question.
* * *
Before the broadcast, in the waiting room.
I gathered Jang So-won sunbae and the members, explaining that this topic might come up.
As soon as I finished, Bijoo voiced his concern.
“No.”
“What?”
“Trading a few minutes of screen time for your family story? I don’t think so.”
Unlike his usual soft tone—like watered-down liquor or liquor-diluted water—he was firm.
Seok-hwan hyung, watching from the side, chimed in.
“Appearing today is enough. No need to push.”
His words said that, but his eyes showed conflict.
As a close hyung, he worried; as our manager, it was a golden opportunity.
Securing more airtime for rookies like us was no guarantee even with lobbying, and my dad’s story would surely spark positive buzz.
“I’m an outsider, so I’ll sit this out.”
Jang So-won stood.
“Doesn’t feel right for me to weigh in. Family matters like this are for you guys to decide.”
Our road manager Seo Min-gi, standing behind, nodded in agreement and stepped out with her to give us space.
Now just us in the waiting room.
I looked around.
Somehow, it felt like the family was against it, and I had to persuade them.
“Think about it—it’s a good chance. We’re wrapping up activities anyway; more attention wouldn’t hurt. For rookies like us, even this much airtime is—”
“Hyung, that’s the manager’s view.”
Jung-hyun’s heavy voice hit home.
“You’re a member, not a manager.”
“…….”
“We appreciate you looking out for us, but we’re not idiots. We know why we got on Music Cafe.”
“……You do?”
“Seok-hwan hyung told us.”
Seok-hwan hyung shrugged at my glance.
“They came to me the day after your meeting with the executive director. Wanted to change their image before activities end. Same worries as you, so I said you’d already talked to him.”
“Embarrassing. Thought I was the only one.”
“Everyone thinks alike.”
Ri-hyuk said.
“You think we didn’t? Honestly, felt a bit betrayed when we heard you’d been meeting people secretly.”
“Hey, you didn’t tell us either.”
“Our situation’s different, hyung.”
Bijoo smiled.
“We didn’t want to worry you, seeing you busy with interviews and schedules.”
“I didn’t tell you to avoid worrying you.”
“Tie.”
The maknae’s summary broke our serious faces into chuckles.
Spot on.
We’d both been playing the good brothers cosplay, so it evened out.
“Anyway, let’s be honest from now on.”
The dongsaengs nodded.
“Sorry for not saying. Taking care of TJ trainees became habit, so I guess I saw you as dongsaengs too. We’re all members.”
“Keep seeing me as cute little bro. I am cute.”
Ri-hyuk punched the bubbly maknae’s fist, muttering “Read the room, kid.”
Ji-ho derailed me, so Jung-hyun spoke up.
“Like I said, no need to always look out for us, hyung.”
“…….”
“This time, not as leader or producer—just do what you want. We wouldn’t be here without you.”
“…….”
“What’s wrong?”
“Feels kinda new.”
Hearing this from tree-sloth Kim Jung-hyun felt fresh.
He grinned.
“We notice even if you think we don’t, hyung.”
I looked around slowly.
Bijoo, Jung-hyun, Ri-hyuk, Ji-ho, Manager Yoon Seok-hwan, Min-gi hyung. Familiar faces, but suddenly new.
Had they always looked like this?
Maybe I’d seen them as mere side characters in my story—reacting passively while I drove the plot.
But really, they were co-leads building the story with me.
And people I was grateful for.
In entertainment, people sell even distant relatives for airtime. Others might say “do what you want” while hoping for more exposure.
These guys worried about me and wanted me to do what I wanted.
“So, what’ll you do?”
At Ri-hyuk’s question, I pondered, then answered.
“……I’ll talk.”
Why? I don’t know.
Not for group airtime or personal spotlight.
Just.
I had a story I wanted to tell.
* * *
-…He was that famous.
The intro to Dad ended, snapping me back.
The vibe had shifted completely.
Even those who’d tilted heads at “Who’s Seon Myung-ju?” now showed curiosity.
-Always wondered. Composing talent, instrument skills in an idol—turns out talent’s genetic.
True.
My year-end arrangement, the feel for composing Something—Dad’s musician genes.
-Is your idol dream connected to him?
I nodded at Ha Seung-ju’s question.
That’s why I wanted to share.
Why I turned down actor or producer offers at TJ Entertainment to chase idol life.
“Watching Dad play piano as a kid was amazing. I tried mimicking, but sucked. Baby legs couldn’t reach pedals, just grunted away.”
Audiences smiled, picturing kid me.
“So I quit piano.”
-As a baby?
“Yeah, around five? Tiny hands banging keys, yelling ‘I quit!’ Not my memory—Grandma told me.”
Ha Seung-ju and others smiled.
“That’s probably why I turned to singing. Old first-gen idols on TV—I’d copy dances and sing. Parents loved it.”
-Could call that the start of Wooju’s idol path.
“Yeah. My first memory.”
My first memory: flailing limbs clumsily.
Mom and Dad clapping, laughing, praising. Baby me gawking up, thinking their smiles jewel-pretty.
Wanted to frame them.
That’s probably when the idol dream started.
Because I missed them.
Seeing that smile-like expression from others when I danced and sang, like my parents.
I shared calmly.
-From TV stages as a kid to standing here yourself. You’ve achieved your daily dream.
Ha Seung-ju’s line wrapped the parent topic.
Worry crept in then.
Felt rambling, emotional—okay? Embarrassing overkill, but water under the bridge.
Crew’ll edit it fine.
New Black talk wrapped there.
One more thing to cover.
Jang So-won.
Sugarfish member who nearly topped girl groups but disbanded amid scandals, now back via drama OSTs.
Life story.
Her eyes teary recalling hardships, audience eyes welled up too.
Late-night emotional slot helped.
Someone nearby got caught up.
-Hic…….
One member burst into tears mid-story.
Why you?
Our emotional maknae was crying.
For real, not acting.
Snot streaming proved it.
Chubby rice-cake face bawling—cute and funny.
Jang So-won and Ha Seung-ju burst laughing.
-Ji-ho, you okay?
-Sorry, can’t focus with Ji-ho’s snot. Any staff with tissue?
-It’s fine. Sleeve works.
-Hey! That’s sponsored!
-Ji-ho, stop.
Ri-hyuk’s panic and Bijoo’s baby-handling sparked audience laughter.
Laughter reignited as Ji-ho blew his nose.
*Snort* boomed through the mic.
Loudest laugh since I arrived.
Gave him quiet tissue—he honked like a goose.
Maknae enlightenment hit me.
Ji-ho……
We’re recording……
Yoon Seok-hwan probably clutching his neck backstage.
Silver lining: everyone, including audience, found maknae adorable.
Yeah. Cute.
Someone take him……
-Ji-ho must be a crybaby.
-Youngest and softer than he looks. Cried most when I scolded during recording.
Jang So-won laughed.
She patted his shoulder like a noona; warm vibes spread.
I’d worried about image, but decided positive.
Honestly fun.
Teasing ammo for the guy I tormented a month over calling New Black “Soufflé” in victory speech.
Not just me.
Everyone poised.
Maknae-mocking national treasure had piled up; members smirked.
Even Bijoo beaming full.
Brace yourself, Wang Ji-ho.
One month of roasting incoming.
* * *
Music Cafe recording so far: success.
Nitpick? Other members’ combined airtime barely matches mine.
Dad story helped, but their talk fumbles too.
Still great for first time.
Rookie idols usually sweat through interviews.
Today’s score: 90/100.
Talk only, though.
Like written vs. practical exams—talk was written; key practical left.
Final stage.
Our core goal: showcase New Black’s musicality.
-Time to sadly bid farewell to Jang So-won and New Black. Truly fun time today.
We gave thanks in turn at Ha Seung-ju’s cue.
-Now, final stage.
He stepped aside; we moved to main stage.
Staff bustled.
Lights dimmed.
Spotlights blinded like direct sun as we positioned.
Then the sound source played.
The intro echoing through PBS public hall drew murmurs.
“……?”
Warranted.
Identical to our debut stage intro.