Chapter 38
Chapter 38
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 38
Chapter Title: This Life is Space Star 38
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It was right then.
A week ago, on the drive back from Gangwon-do, his face had looked exactly like that.
With earphones plugged in but no music playing, he'd been staring blankly out the window, lost in some gloomy thoughts.
I'd brushed it off as nothing at the time.
He'd quickly reverted to his usual calm expression.
But now, it seemed like that wasn't the case.
His face looked far more serious than back then.
Why was he like this?
As I pondered deeply, my eyes suddenly caught Ji-ho and Ri-hyuk's school uniforms.
Blue jackets with red ties.
The uniforms from that famous performing arts high school where tons of idols attend—they looked a bit disheveled today, unlike usual.
Well, our maknae was always running around like a puppy, so I could understand Ji-ho's.
He came home covered in dust every day.
But Ri-hyuk's uniform looked just as rumpled as Ji-ho's today.
And the reason I'm mentioning this is because every school day, our main dancer got up at dawn to iron their uniforms.
Bijoo hadn't ironed them today.
I'd thought I just woke up late and missed it, but apparently not.
Not just the maknae—even the well-behaved Ri-hyuk's uniform was dingy.
Once that thought hit me, other odd things started popping into view one by one.
Lately, Bijoo's strange behavior.
He was fine when everyone was around, but whenever he had time alone, he'd zone out.
Like someone with something weighing on their mind.
What should I do about him?
With the others, I could just throw an arm around their neck, act all buddy-buddy, and joke, "Got something bothering you these days? Wanna talk to your hyung?"
But with him, it felt... tricky.
He had a good personality, but his vibe wasn't easygoing.
He had this aura that made you think twice about getting too casual.
Plus, I couldn't keep up with his emotional swings.
Over the past five months since last December, I'd been watching the kids and gotten a rough read on their characters.
Especially Jung-hyun, Ri-hyuk, and Ji-ho—they were easy to figure out.
But Bijoo? I still had no clue.
That little head of his seemed full of thoughts, but he never said a word.
"Ajusshi, what're you doing? Not eating?"
Ri-hyuk, sitting across from me, looked my way.
Snapping out of it, I saw everyone digging into their food.
Bijoo had returned to normal, as if that expression had never been there.
Laughing at Ji-ho's whining, chiming in, offering comfort.
Was it my imagination?
He looked so fine now, like I'd seen a ghost.
But no, it wasn't.
No one else had noticed, but Bijoo was holding his chopsticks backward while eating.
The kid who organized the fridge with everything perfectly aligned—this was definitely not normal.
Whatever. For now, let's eat.
We had a long day ahead.
It was the day to decide our song's direction.
But looking at the meat, there was less than usual. Ever since Music Cafe, it had always been 1.5 times the normal amount.
No need to hunt down the culprit.
The sauce dripping from the grill plate was drawing ants to sugar, all heading to one spot.
"......"
Ji-ho, catching my eye, flinched with his cheeks stuffed full of food.
Then he brazenly made an excuse.
"I'm still growing, hyung. Ahhh!"
I grabbed those cheeks like cheese and yanked.
* * *
After eating, we each grabbed an ice cream from the convenience store and strolled down the alley, watching the sunset.
"Hyung, you over it now?"
"A bit."
More than a bit—it was all gone.
While my dongsaengs clutched cheap hard ice creams, I held a pricey Häagen-Dazs bar.
Savoring the crunchy hazelnut texture as I walked.
Seeing my mood lift, the maknae stuck to my side like an excited puppy, chattering away.
"I was seriously dying, hyung. They kept teasing me all day 'cause I laughed it off at first, thinking it was fine."
"Then don't laugh."
"I'm an entertainer now, hyung. Gotta manage my image."
His baby face trying to look mature just made me laugh.
If you're gonna say that, at least drop the Choco Ball in your hand.
"And Gil Chae-kyung acting all friendly while subtly dissing me—that pissed me off too. So sly......"
"Gil Chae-kyung?"
It had been a while since I last heard that name.
Girls on Top's maknae, who'd openly ignored us at Hwayi Entertainment.
The girl group member who'd become Ji-ho's arch-nemesis after rejecting his elementary school confession, calling him ugly.
"You go to the same school again?"
"Now we're in the same class in vocal majors. Anyway, she started it Friday morning, posting screenshots in the class group chat to lead the teasing."
"Middle school same school, now same class—you're basically destined to marry."
"Hyung, you're crazy?"
Ji-ho shook his head.
"Can't even imagine it. Over my dead body."
"If you're dead, then yeah."
Jung-hyun, who'd been quietly listening, set down his red bean ice cream. Then he asked seriously.
"Ji-ho, what if she had 10 billion won? Possible then?"
"What're you talking about, hyung? My dad's got that much."
"What about 100 billion?"
Ri-hyuk tossed his stick in a street trash can and chimed in.
"Jung-hyun hyung. If you had 100 billion, would you marry someone like Wang Ji-ho? Maybe Ajusshi, but not him."
"Uju hyung?"
"Yeah, he doesn't do chores, but the visuals are solid. Plenty of eye candy."
"True, fair point."
Even I nodded along.
"Yeah, Jung-hyun. 100 billion, and I'm in."
Watching his hyungs babble like silly high schoolers, the maknae's eyes narrowed into triangles.
We giggled for a while before soothing the sulky maknae.
"Don't like being teased?"
"I tease others. No one teases me."
"Rotten to the core. Respect."
I patted the maknae's shoulder.
And once again, I noticed.
Audio was glitching again.
Turning, I saw Bijoo walking off by himself, far behind.
His gaze fixed on the sky.
Staring at the reddening evening sky.
As I thought how the sunset made his brown hair gleam gold, Ri-hyuk sidled up.
"Why's that hyung acting weird since earlier? Chopsticks backward and all."
"You saw too?"
"Of course. Wanted to point it out, but he seemed off."
"Me too. Bijoo hyung was totally weird today. Even ironing my uniform was half... Ahh!"
I might get addicted to this kid's cheeks.
So soft and chewy, stretching like glutinous rice cake. I tugged while saying.
"Grow up, kid. Bijoo's not your butler."
Ri-hyuk tilted his head at my words.
"Didn't Bijoo hyung do your laundry the other day? You pretended to sleep on the sofa after work, too tired."
"Don't remember that."
"Seriously?"
"......Always feel bad about Bijoo. So I work extra hard to make up for it."
Ignoring their accusatory glares at their shameless leader, I changed the subject.
"Jung-hyun."
"Yeah?"
"You don't know anything? You're closest to Bijoo."
"Ah."
But Jung-hyun's reaction was off.
Like a computer.
As if a "Loading..." bar with percentage would pop up.
"W-Well. Everyone has stuff they can't tell others."
We exchanged looks—Ji-ho, Ri-hyuk, and me.
"Is he sick?"
"No, not that."
"Then what?"
"Uh......"
One thing was clear.
Whatever secrets I have from now on, never telling Jung-hyun.
How does he wear his face like that?
"Uh......"
"Whatever, hyung. Drop it. His reaction says it's not our business."
"Why? I'm curious."
Ri-hyuk glared at the oblivious maknae and looked to me.
I nodded.
"Anyway, we'll ask later."
Jung-hyun visibly relaxed.
Moments ago, he'd been rigid like granite; now, soft plastic.
"Work first. That's priority."
"Oh yeah, forgot."
Ri-hyuk asked.
"So what's the plan for us today?"
* * *
New Black's studio on the second floor.
We'd only had it a few weeks, but thanks to our team's housewife, it was spotless.
Toothbrushes, daily essentials—all there.
Shelves neatly organized.
Compared to Scarlett's next door, it felt super modern. Theirs had a pink sofa with leopard cushions.
Ri-hyuk asked for the group, facing me and Jung-hyun by the sofa.
"So, what now?"
"Nothing much."
Jung-hyun spoke for me.
"Gonna play music. Just listen. No need to do anything special—just sit and hear it out."
"How long?"
"Hyung, how many tracks?"
I clicked the folder on my laptop.
Roughly three minutes per song, I calculated.
"Not much. About five hours."
"Wait, what? Five hours?"
I grinned at the maknae eyeing the door—our manager's devilish smirk, perfected.
Slid the door shut and clapped.
"Any more questions?"
They closed their eyes, resigning to fate. I laughed.
"Knew it."
* * *
The premise of mine and Jung-hyun's experiment was simple.
Our favorite musical colors would be our group's identity.
I'd thought that watching Music Cafe.
Like the dongsaengs' faces during Between—we each unconsciously like and dislike certain music.
So if we found common colors we all liked, that could be our identity.
Of course, tastes vary.
But overlaps must exist in what we all like and want to do.
Pass light through a prism, and it splits into colors by wavelength.
If one genre is light, close inspection would reveal a song holding all our colors.
This was the prism stage.
Differences? No issue.
Once we knew the base, tweaking was easy.
Say Jung-hyun likes hip-hop—build around him under the direction.
Add hip-hop to what we like and want.
So we'd scoured Billboard, domestic charts, picking tracks.
About 300, sorted by genre, mood, emotion.
Classifying was work; even asked A&R staff. They side-eyed it, but whatever.
Worth trying.
"Alright, starting now."
With one camera set up, we huddled on the sofa.
Hit play.
One song, two, three.
As they played, we skipped any where reactions soured from the intro.
Mostly "Woooah"-heavy metal.
Planned five hours, but after two, Ji-ho whined about hallucinations, so we broke, then resumed.
How long later?
We finished, collapsing exhausted on the sofa.
"......You think this'll actually work?"
"Gotta see."
Hearing Ri-hyuk's voice, heavy as wet cotton, I dragged my body up.
Then asked Bijoo, sprawled beside me.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine......"
"Didn't ask you, but I'm not, hyung."
Feeling sorry for my kimchi-pickled dongsaengs.
Seemed good in theory; now felt dumb in practice.
Should've just discussed colors.
"......Sorry, guys."
I sat at the work table.
Jung-hyun wheeled over, munching banana.
"Monitor now?"
"Faster the better. You'll help, right?"
"......"
"Hiding behind banana?"
"Ugh, throat's dry."
He chugged water, glancing at the sprawled kids and me, then shuffled over resignedly.
"Play it, hyung."
Analysis began.
At first, Jung-hyun and I fast-forwarded footage at the table, checking O/X.
This one: four likes, one meh.
That: two likes, three meh.
As we listed, patterns emerged.
"Hey, this......"
"Works?"
Songs all five preferred.
They piled up, revealing common threads: emotions, moods, narratives.
Common theme: love.
Not just romantic you-die-I-live, but broad humanity.
Not gender-bound—parent-child, friend-friend affection.
Mood: warmth.
Even cool Ri-hyuk liked cozy vibes.
Not just bright; the tone viewing people warmly.
Broad love, warm songs.
Emotion: joy.
No limits—energetic, calm, all good.
"Shape's forming, right? Seeing it?"
"Yeah, me too."
Jung-hyun nodded vigorously.
We merged past Untitled work with this.
Target concept: summery freshness.
Direction: warm, joyful songs on broad love.
Picture forming.
Five boys playing all day, then bonfire singalong at beach night.
Like Jules Verne's 15 Boys Adrift vibe; stage visualized.
Puzzle clicked perfectly.
Before, couldn't imagine staging it.
Now, even audience faces.
"Jung-hyun, look."
Grabbed A4 paper, opened composing software. Sketched excitedly.
"Pull this back a bit, push that forward. Extend the bridge longer."
"Ooh."
"Perfect, right?"
After ten minutes pondering, we stared at the paper like treasure.
"It worked? Looks like it?"
"Yeah."
We blinked blankly.
Then grinned at each other.
Jung-hyun looked adorable right now.
About 0.3 Kim Deok-soon levels.
Everything beautiful post-breakthrough. As we thrilled,
"What? It's done?"
Bijoo rubbed eyes behind us. Ri-hyuk and Ji-ho approached, blinking like woken goldfish.
We explained excitedly: process, blocks, solutions.
Probably garbled; they looked lost.
So I backtracked from experiment basics.
Their faces grew weird.
Why?
As I wondered, Ri-hyuk grinned, twitching.
"Excuse me, hyungs. Instead of this crap, just ask for our favorite song lists."
"Huh?"
"Find overlaps from that."
Jung-hyun and I exchanged looks.
"Oh, yeah."
"True."
Ri-hyuk's face twisted demonically.
"Oh yeah? You idiots!"
Joy of titling 'Untitled' was brief.
That day, Jung-hyun and I got reamed by the dongsaengs for nearly an hour.