Inside the tent, I watched the trembling worms and swallowed hard.
“So…” My mouth was parched.
“It took two months to make this?”
“…Yes.”
Bijoo’s response was slower than usual by about two seconds, which meant I had made a huge mistake.
“I’m disappointed,” said Junghyun.
“I don’t know if it will meet your standards, but this is a song Bijoo and I worked on all night, tweaking the beats.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Well, you might find it terrible…”
“No, not at all! I love it!”I tried to sound cheerful, but Bijoo still looked deflated.
The youngest one said, “I was there too. Bijoo was so excited, saying, ‘Woojoo will love this,’ and giggling.”
“…”
“And I also contributed to some parts. Like the B part and the chorus.”
The more I heard, the worse I felt.
This was the moment when Rihyuk would usually spill out words like, ‘Seriously, ugh.’
A tiny worm lay powerlessly sprawled out.
“…Rihyuk?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said in a disheartened voice.
Just when my heart started to race, Junghyun explained.
“Rihyuk owns the second-largest share.”
“…”
“He stayed up all night recently, writing lyrics. He wanted to write something that suits you.”
“…”
It felt like the saying ‘a slip of the tongue is worse than a slip of the foot’ was made for times like this.
One mistake had led to a debt of a thousand nyang, shared among five people.
I took a deep breath and declared, “I’m sorry, everyone. I was trash.”
Normally, I would have laughed it off with an ‘OK.’
But the situation hadn’t improved.
After all, if I had spent two months preparing a gift thinking ‘Madam Kim Deoksoon would like this,’ only to have it harshly criticized…
“I’m sorry. I had no idea you worked on it for two months just for me.”
“Don’t worry about it too much. It wasn’t every day,” said Rihyuk.
“Honestly, we know. Bijoo and I talked about it a few days ago; we felt the quality was ambiguous.”
“It was subtle.”
“Right. It was a time when I truly felt your importance over those two months…”
They seemed to have tried to complete it among themselves, but there was no progress.
Bijoo asked, “But objectively, what do you think?”
“Objectively?”
“Really objectively.”
I pondered deeply.
The afterimage of the sound I had heard earlier lingered in my mind.
The first was the sound of the gayageum.
“I thought you chose the sound well. Each song has a genre that fits, and you chose perfectly.”
“Really?”
“Yes. The concept was so good, it surprised me.”
It had the atmosphere of a poem that Joseon-era scholars might have sung leisurely.
A feeling of poignant beauty under the moonlit night.
I wasn’t sure if it was intentional, but the beauty of its simplicity was impressive.
“However, I felt the song was too focused on performance.”
“Performance? We haven’t planned any performance yet?”
“Bijoo, give me your phone.”
I played the file on the phone Bijoo handed me.
I offered it for him to listen.
“If there’s a dance and a song, the song should naturally come first. The song exists first, and then the dance visually represents it.”
“…?”
“I’m not sure without the lyrics sheet, but roughly, this is where the ‘hmm hmm hmm’ part goes, right?”
“Exactly. That’s the vibe.”
“But feel the spacing of the breaths here.”
With a tap-tap, he showed the rhythm of the anticipated choreography with his fingers, taking breaths in and out.
Something felt unnatural.
“Ah…!”
At the sound made by my younger siblings, I asked with a laugh.
“The lyrics and the choreography feel off, don’t they? It feels like you’re breathing for the dance, not the song.”
“So that’s why…”
“Probably because, Bijoo, you created the song with the dance in mind.”
“Ah…”
I said to my siblings with a smile.
“If it were just dancing without lyrics, it wouldn’t matter, but we’re singers who perform songs.”
“I get it, brother.”
When everyone nodded in agreement, understanding the point.
I recalled the song in my head.
“Maybe just slowing down the tempo by one beat will solve the problem.”
“Wouldn’t that be too slow?”
“Not at all. The chorus is just right, so if we just slow down the part before it slightly, like this.”
I hummed a rough example, and they responded with an ‘Ah…!’
The youngest said in amazement.
“Wow. So that’s how you’ve been doing it.”
At the somewhat awkward expression, my siblings and I burst into laughter.
The atmosphere became more relaxed.
That’s why I omitted the parts worth critiquing and shared my opinion on the song.
“Personal preferences aside, I think it’s a really good song.”
“Really? Is it good enough to be included in the album?”
“If we make some edits? It’s fundamentally a very fresh song, not just album material.”
I said to the hopeful youngsters.
“It could even be considered for the title track.”
“Wow…!”
“That’s what I meant when I said it would be a good song once completed.”
“Wowww…!”
The youngsters caused a commotion, shaking the tent this way and that.
I could hear Lee-hyuk’s voice crushed under Jung-hyun, and Bijoo shouting ‘I love it!’
I waited until the chaos in the darkness settled.
The youngest reached out of the sleeping bag and placed a hand on his cheek.
“Amazing. We’ve really made a great song. Can I introduce myself as ‘Composer Wang Jiho’ now?”
“Man, we’re pros.”
“If this becomes the title track, let’s do interviews like Woojoo hyung. ‘We made it in a day,’ like that.”
Amidst the giggling siblings, Lee-hyuk interjected.
“Excuse me.”
“Kyahaha!”
“Excuse me, everyone.”
“What?”
“Didn’t you hear what he said? He said it ‘would be’ a good song ‘once completed.’”
The youngsters nodded.
“And?”
“The problem is, do we have the ability to complete it?”
“…Oops.”
The siblings’ hands, which had been shaking excitedly, drooped down as they turned their gaze towards me.
With an awkward smile, the youngest asked me.
“So, could you perhaps help us finish it? We’ll put your name first in the credits.”
“That’s…”
Facing their eager eyes, I said.
“I’m also stuck on my own song. To be honest, this one is a bit…”
“Why?”
“Because it’s difficult.”
It was the same problem I had with my song.
At first, I didn’t realize it, but as the siblings said, it felt like a song that had been worked on for a long time.
There were dozens of places where hands had been laid.
It’s a funny problem.
Editing a song is like repairing a broken machine.
With some effort, it could turn into a great song, but on the other hand, repeated modifications could make it more clumsy and strange.
The problem is…
As I continue to revise, it becomes more ambiguous to touch because it gains completeness in itself.
It’s like a broken machine that’s spinning smoothly, saying, ‘It’s working normally. Stop touching it.’ I have no clue where to start again.
Even if I go back to the previous versions, I don’t see a solution.
“It was a similar problem.”
“Then, should I ask Director Cho? If I tell him it’s the same issue as your song.”
“That would be good, but…”
I was told to try to solve it myself first.
I’ve been thinking about it the whole time I’ve been in Jeju Island, how to solve this.
My younger siblings offered their opinions.
“We’ve been thinking about it while listening to the USB you gave us. So, what we thought was…”
“…maybe increase the drums to give it a pop feel…”
“…it seems like Woojoo is lost in thought with those blank eyes. Sunwooju, you fool… Ah! Ah…”
Even as I flicked Jiho on the forehead, my mind was cluttered.
Neither their opinions nor mine were the answer.
Ah. What is it, really?
Maybe I should just extract the main theme from here and create a completely new song…
“Huh?”
My siblings stopped talking and turned to look at me.
At that moment.
Everything became clear as if I was standing under a night sky where the clouds had parted.
“I can just make it anew.”
“Huh?”
“Just extract the good parts from here!”
“…?”
“That. That.”
I tried to snap my fingers and say something to my siblings, but the words didn’t come out right.
My thoughts were faster than my words.
Once an idea popped up, the framework of the song immediately formed in my head.
And I also planned how to make it anew.
“Let’s mix it.”
“Huh?”
“I’ll take the main theme of the chorus from mine, and the verse from yours.”
“…?”
“We can lay down the sound with traditional instruments like the gayageum. It fits the theme perfectly.”
The youngest, who had been staring blankly, asked with an excited face.
“What? So, are we shooting a historical drama concept for the music video?”
“That could work.”
While my siblings were excitedly approving, I envisioned the big picture.
The theme of this album is farewell.
If it goes according to my plan, it will be a song that perfectly fits the mood.
“This isn’t the time.”
I reached for my phone.
“I might forget it after sleeping. I need to record it on my phone.”
“Just a moment. Calm down first.”
I nodded at Rihyuk’s words.
Because I had forgotten the procedure we usually perform before discussing important matters among ourselves.
Ziiip-
We opened the tent zipper and five heads peeked out.
The sound of insects.
There were lights set up by the staff around us, but there were no cameras or recording equipment filming us.
Just one security CCTV. It seemed they had taken everything away so we could rest properly.
“Hey, youngest.”
“Yes?”
Jiho scanned the inside of the tent.
Our youngest was excellent at spotting a camera lens, enough to catch anyone trying to secretly film us.
“There’s nothing. 500% sure.”
That settled it.
I immediately received the earphones from Bijoo and listened to the song, comparing it with the one I had created in my head.
I started the recording app and began humming.
“…?”
After about 30 seconds.
“…!”
Seeing my siblings’ expressions brighten, it seemed I had hit the mark.
“Brother. This…”
As if sensing something, Bizhu hesitated to speak and then fell silent.
The younger siblings refrained from speaking, fearing they might jinx it, but it seemed they felt the same.
…The song was truly beautiful.
Worried whether it had saved correctly, I checked several times and even backed it up.
Relaxing my fingers, stiff with tension, I gazed at the file named [Untitled].
“Bizhu.”
“Yes?”
“What’s the name of the song you guys created?”
“We haven’t properly named it yet, but we’re thinking of something related to flowers. What about you?”
“I was leaning towards ‘Falling’ for now.”
‘Falling’ and flowers.
Weighing the two, I suggested, “How about combining them to ‘Falling Blossoms’?”
Flowers in mid-fall or those already fallen.
The siblings’ responses brought a smile to my face.
On the last night of our Jeju Island trip.
In the tranquil tent, filled with the sounds of crickets, we hummed the song we had just created.
That night.
Ding-dong-
After a shower and while drying his hair, Lemon Enter’s executive producer, Jo Gyuhwan, picked up his phone.
There was an email.
It was a recording file labeled ‘Work File – Falling Blossoms’ sent by Woojoo.
He smiled.
‘It seems he’s figured it out.’
The email apologized for the late hour and asked for confirmation.
The postscript ‘ps. Found a great pork cutlet place’ made him chuckle.
Sitting at his study desk, he played the file, and someone’s pleasant humming flowed from the speakers.
Less than a minute had passed when…
“…?”
Initially puzzled, a smile soon spread across his face.
The next morning.
Having packed up, we left the accommodation.
“Everyone seems in high spirits. Did something good happen?”
“Yes!”
The crew smiled when they heard we had whipped up a song late at night.
“Must’ve been really bored. Did you make a Jeju Island travel song or something?”
“No, it wasn’t that.”
“Play it for us sometime when you can. It sounds like fun.”
They must’ve imagined us creating a song like ‘Jeju Island’s New Black~’ while strumming the guitar late into the night.
I started to explain but then stopped.
It would take too long to explain properly.
“Alright! Today is our last day in Jeju Island!”
“Ah-ah-ah-ah!”
“Sad, isn’t it?”
“Yes-yes-yes!”
“So, for breakfast today, near Seongsan Ilchulbong, we have!”
“Where?”
“The best abalone hot pot restaurant prepared for you!”
“Wow-ow-ow-ow!”
I gave a thumbs up to the audio director who recommended the restaurant.
A Buddha-like smile appeared on the lips of the director, headphones on.
After devouring two bowls each of the tear-inducingly delicious abalone hot pot.
Regrettably, we couldn’t climb Seongsan Ilchulbong.
Partly because of the steep stairs that were a challenge for Bizhu, who had a fear of heights…
“Wow-ow-ow-ow!”
…and partly because of the Chinese tourists who spotted us and came running.
As soon as the tour guide pointed at us and exclaimed ‘New Black!’ the excited tourists began to swarm.
They didn’t know who we were, but they reacted as if we were incredibly famous celebrities in Korea.
Suddenly, they were posing for photos next to us and even putting their hands on our shoulders.
Due to safety concerns, we quickly retreated to our vehicle.
“…Looks like we’ll have to give up climbing Seongsan Ilchulbong.”
“Seems so.”
Maybe it’s because we’ve only been on the minor courses. I didn’t realize Jeju Island had so many Chinese tourists.
Instead, we finished our schedule by touring around Ilchulbong.
In reality, the filming had wrapped up last night, and all that remained was to capture some opening shots for the program.
After the final day’s shoot, we gathered in the open space, each of us clutching a mini-flag emblazoned with ‘New Black’s Travel Diary.’
It was time to deliver our closing remarks to the viewers beyond the camera and the production team before us.
“I’m really worried about how the broadcast will turn out.”
“Seriously.”
“They told us not to worry about the content during the pre-meeting, just to act naturally. So we really enjoyed ourselves, but I wonder if it will be entertaining…” ℞äℕɵВЁ𐌔
Our sincere concerns were met with the staff shaking their heads, their expressions resolute.
“Ahem. Anyway, you’ve all worked so hard these past four days. To the PDs, directors, writers…”
“Thank you so much.”
“We were truly happy. Really…”
Even the younger members added their thanks, prompting smiles from the production team.
We hadn’t said much, but they knew we were genuinely grateful.
“Thank you from the bottom of our hearts.”
From the summer special to the picnic and treasure hunt plans.
Thanks to the reality show crew, we had a golden time.
Whenever they sensed even a hint of difficulty, they were ready to change things up.
It was the first time I’d experienced such a comfortable atmosphere on set.
Upon closer inquiry, it turned out they weren’t K-net staff but a subcontracted production company specializing in healing entertainment.
“If the opportunity arises, I’d love to shoot with this production team again.”
“Can’t we go straight to season two?”
“I really want to do it again.”
The production team responded positively, waving their hands with a ‘woo-woo-woo.’
“I don’t know when we’ll do another travel reality show like this, but I hope we’ll meet again when that time comes.”
Then, turning to the younger members, I said, “Shall we end this energetically?”
“We’ve all worked hard for these three nights and four days! Until now…”
“We were New Black!”
We all clapped together and officially concluded the shoot.
“Great job, everyone~”
“You’ve had a tough time because of the scaredy-cats. Really.”
We shook hands and hugged the staff.
We even did video calls with the director’s children, and diligently signed autographs for their families.
When it was time to take a group photo for SNS.
“New Black’s Mini Album 4!”
“May it be a hit~!”
We all chanted and cheered together.
And when I declared that I’d treat everyone to Korean beef once we arrived in Seoul, an even louder cheer erupted.
“New Black! New Black!”
It was a truly boisterous conclusion.
As we prepared to withdraw and completed the boarding process at Jeju Airport.
Upon boarding the plane and turning on my phone, I noticed a notification with a [1] on my email app.
It was a reply from Director Cho.
[Re] Please confirm the title for New Black’s Mini Album 4.
I’ve listened to the song you sent.
It’s really good.
Contact me when you arrive in Seoul. We’ll talk more then.
Seeing Director Cho’s positive response, it seemed things had gone well.
I showed the email to the younger members, and they all silently pumped their fists in joy.
But then…
“Hmm?”
There was a postscript.
P.S. But whose voice is at the beginning? It sounds like a voice I’ve never heard before.
Bijoo, sitting next to me, asked.
“Voice? What do you mean?”
“Yeah, what?”
Not understanding, we shared earphones and listened, but heard nothing…
Wait. There it was.
“Hmm?”
“Bro, there’s something at the start, like 0.5 seconds.”
“You’re right.”
A faint sound was captured.
When we repeated the first part after increasing the volume a few notches.
Chills ran up both our arms.
“…”
An unfamiliar middle-aged man’s voice was going ‘Ah-.’