Chapter 56
Chapter 56
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: This Life is Space Star 56
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Sometimes in life, you run into ridiculously absurd situations.
Like right now.
Someone I hadn't spoken to in nearly ten days since debut—someone I wasn't even on good terms with—approaches and hands me 100,000 won.
How the hell was I supposed to interpret this?
I stared blankly, frozen like a computer with a "no response" error, alternating between the bill and the guy.
"Take it."
"Yeah."
Han Jo tilted his head as he asked.
"Didn't you lose this?"
What was he talking about? That's when it finally clicked.
Under the bill was a wallet.
A beat-up wallet that was all too familiar to us.
He explained to me as I numbly took it.
"I was heading down to say hi to the seniors, and it was lying in the hallway. I checked inside, and the ID said 'Kim Jung-hyun,' so... I went to the waiting room to return it, but you weren't there."
"Ah... thank you."
"Want to check if anything's missing? I took the cash out just in case you'd lose that too."
"No need."
I thanked him.
"Thanks. One of my members who lost this has been wandering around looking for it."
No wonder Kim Jung-hyun had insisted on going to the vending machine alone.
He was obviously sneaking out with just his same-age buddy to avoid a scolding.
I chuckled, picturing the wallet search party bickering right now.
"We should at least buy you something as thanks."
"No, it's fine."
Han Jo waved it off with a laugh.
For a split second, his face overlapped with the diss rap from the showcase.
But business was business, and personal was personal.
Before I could even offer to buy him a sandwich, he waved his hand again.
"It wasn't like I did it expecting a greeting or anything. Anyway, we..."
We?
Han Jo glanced at a corner table far off, and we followed his gaze.
Whoa, almost jumped.
Eight pairs of bulging eyes.
Street Boys, decked out in hip-hop concept outfits with gold chains, staring right at us.
But.
What the...?
The moment our eyes met, they flinched and turned away.
What?
They looked way more intimidating visually—why were they the ones hiding?
They were like thieves caught red-handed by cops at a crime scene. Or maybe more like gangsters.
Han Jo let out an awkward chuckle and beckoned.
"Gi-won, come here."
No need to guess who Gi-won was.
All seven turned to one guy at once.
It was like watching a mime show.
The pointed-out member's face flushed red in an instant, and he shook his head vigorously.
"Come on."
After a brief tug-of-war, the guy shuffled over hesitantly.
As we watched in confusion, Han Jo pulled him closer and explained.
"We're both going on Jang So-won's radio show as guests. We'll have to chat and stuff on air, so it'd be awkward to greet then. Just wanted to say please take care of us in advance..."
In short, they wanted to break the ice before the broadcast.
Whatever their real intentions, I smiled back.
I even introduced our still-pale-faced main vocal.
"We usually come out like this, just the two of us."
A silent nod was exchanged.
And that was it for the conversation.
The wallet had opened the door to talk, but we weren't close enough to chat warmly.
Han Jo and Gi-won gave a quick eye-greeting and headed back to their table.
I turned to my dongsaengs.
That's when I remembered something I'd forgotten.
Oh, right. Jung-hyun.
I went to call, but Ji-ho was already on the phone saying something.
A relieved voice came from the other end.
Meanwhile, my gaze drifted to Ri-hyeok staring blankly out the window.
"Ri-hyeok, what's up?"
"That guy's over there."
"Who?"
"The one we just greeted. Yoon Ki-won."
Ri-hyeok glanced at our excitedly chatting maknae and lowered his voice.
"I just remembered who he is."
* * *
That day, back at the company, I had a quick meeting with Executive Director Jo Kyu-hwan.
It was about the radio schedule.
Normally, no need for a sit-down, but this radio had something I wanted to show the listeners.
Just in case, I'd requested a consultation.
"I'm here."
10 p.m. in the studio.
Ri-hyeok, lounging on the sofa listening to music, pulled out his earphones and sat up.
"What'd he say?"
"Do whatever I want. Said it's a solid plan and would let the A&R team know in advance."
"Well. Good then."
I opened my laptop and settled at the studio table. Ri-hyeok rolled over in his swivel chair.
"Shall we pick a song first?"
The plan I'd pitched to the director was simple.
-There's a live corner on this radio show. Can I perform a song I composed there?
When he asked why, I recounted a snippet from my interview that afternoon with Entertainment IN reporter Oh So-hee.
The backlash after Fireworks' success.
People loved the song too much—didn't believe an idol member could have written it.
Those doubts would fade eventually.
But if I had a chance to showcase my skills, why pass it up? That was my point.
The director pondered briefly, then approved readily.
With one condition.
"Why turn on the self-cam?"
"Director said to. Approved the self-composed song on radio if we record the process."
"I don't like being filmed."
"You're an idol, Ri-hyeok. Idols can't fear cameras."
"Who's scared? Wait—no, why do you keep ducking out of frame?"
Busted.
I'd angled the laptop toward him on purpose, but the sharp kid caught on.
"Sorry. Washed off the makeup, feeling a bit less confident..."
"The guy who struts around in sweats saying 'I don't care about looks'—where'd he go?"
"Fans might be disappointed seeing my bare face."
"Excuse me. Don't you know your bare face looks like our made-up one? It's late, stop pissing people off."
"I've always thought this, but you talk so pretty, Ri-hyeok."
He snorted, rummaging in his hoodie pocket, then handed me a black mask.
"Put this on."
"Ooh..."
"Don't look touched—just wear it before I take it back."
"It's new. I'll use it clean and return it."
"Take it."
Right. He doesn't share stuff with others.
With Jung-hyun's forgotten baseball cap on and mask under my chin, the self-cam looked legit.
Kinda pro-idol vibes.
I cleared my throat under his pitiful stare and changed the subject.
"Anyway, let's pick a song."
One week until the live radio broadcast.
Not enough time to even make a beat from scratch, let alone a full song.
But I was confident because...
"Whoa, are you some old guy carving songs or what? How many sources and melodies did you make?"
The folder crammed with song files.
I explained to Ri-hyeok, who looked overwhelmed.
"Made Fireworks under crazy stress. Made these to blow off steam. You know how it is at school—everything's fun except studying. Same principle."
"Impressive. Very impressive."
"Right?"
"That's why your eyes were so hollow back then."
"..."
I clicked the mouse.
"Anyway, these were stress-relief jams, so most are low quality. Only two or three are public-ready."
"I'll listen to them all."
Ri-hyeok grabbed an A4 sheet from the printer and clicked his pen.
I hit play.
As time passed, our expressionless main vocal got immersed.
He's the least expressive in daily life, but with music, his face shows the richest emotions.
Like what a born singer looks like.
Lost in his own world, he jots notes after each track.
Which one's best?
My top picks: one medium-tempo like Something, themed on autumn leaves; one mystical garden in a fantasy; one night sea under the Milky Way.
The one I wanted most...
"Listened to all—three stand out. The mystical one's impossible in a week. Between the other two, I like 'Night Sea' more."
"Yeah?"
"Lyrical vibe fits radio. And maybe just me, but..."
Ri-hyeok met my eyes.
"This one's based on personal experience, right?"
"Huh? How'd you know?"
"I've sung a few songs. You can tell. Felt like you had the most fun writing this."
"Spot on. Wrote it thinking of Grandma during tough times."
"Ah."
Ri-hyeok blinked, then froze.
His blinking eyes spun like a buffering mouse cursor.
Felt like I should say something nice.
Problem: compliments aren't our specialty.
"No wonder. It, uh, touches the, heart..."
"It's fine, don't worry. Night Sea it is for live. Now do some work with me."
"...Work? What work?"
"You sensed it when I said self-composed, right?"
"No. Never sensed that."
He inched his chair back warily. I handed him the A4.
"Write lyrics, Ri-hyeok."
"This is a scam. I never agreed."
"Lyricists make bank. Hyung's doing this to make you rich."
He looked like he'd realized his job was a pyramid scheme. I grinned.
Sorry.
Lyrics aren't my strong suit.
* * *
He started with heavy sighs and glares, but once underway, Ri-hyeok nailed his part.
Flew through it, really.
Thought he had talent during Fireworks, but yeah—bookworm skills shone in lyrics.
I wasn't slacking either.
Personal Grandma story, so I built the framework; he polished key parts.
Coordinated with A&R too.
"Our Woojoo, worried about less work for A&R?"
"Sorry, I'm the sinner..."
Americano round cost at least 100,000 won.
Luckily, Fireworks success helped—A&R grumbled but enjoyed it.
Concept was "raw self-made song" over "pro-polished," so minimal tweaks needed.
Thus, [Composed by: Woojoo], [Lyrics by: Woojoo/Ri-hyeok] [Night Sea] shaped up fast.
Thanks to the near-complete track.
But when all was smooth, an unexpected snag hit.
"Hmm..."
Three days before Wonderful Night guest spot.
Practicing live in the studio with Ri-hyeok, I sensed something off in his singing.
"Ri-hyeok."
"Yeah?"
"Can you really pull this off?"
"Pull it off? What?"
Hard to pinpoint.
But...
"Might be just me, but this song feels heavy for you."
"Huh? Did I mess up?"
"Not technique. Vocal trainers always say: sincerity matters. Feel the emotion, empathize, convey it."
Sincerity.
Songs transmit emotions for others to feel.
So you must embody them first to express.
"Can't feel that in your singing now."
"..."
"You're way better than me vocally. But like 2% short. We drew from experiences for Night Sea—my kid-self dozing on Grandma's lap, warm memories growing up. That's the theme, but..."
Not in his version.
Sharp critique—I watched his reaction, but he replied calmly.
"You're a ghost at work stuff."
"Tell me. What's wrong? If it's not working, say so now. We can prep something else."
For a covered song with guides, three days is doable.
"Honestly, nailing the emotion's tough."
"How so?"
"Night Sea's about reminiscing someone who warmly cared for you as a kid, longing for that time."
"Yeah."
"Sounds weird, but I don't have those memories."
Gotta respond carefully.
"No close ties with grandparents. Family had personal issues too."
"Hmm... got it."
"Don't look pitying. Just stating facts objectively."
"Then, anyone you leaned on?"
"Nope."
"Really?"
"Had a good vocal teacher."
Had?
"Got busted for DUI years after I left. Can't sing beautiful Night Sea~ thinking of that."
"R-right."
Racking my brain, I asked.
"Flip it: imagine you're the protector, caring for others."
"Nope."
"Too quick."
"No such experience."
"You have a little sister."
"Hmm. Different case."
As I floundered, Ri-hyeok said.
"I hate being cared for, and hate doing it too. Never ends well."
"I see."
"Remember what I said last time?"
He clicked his tongue.
"Street Boys' Yoon Ki-won—I got fired helping him."