“A minor collision”

Adjusting his slipping glasses, Yoon Seok-hwan asked.

“Collision with what?”

“There was a minor collision with a truck at the intersection nearby.”

“And the people there? Nobody hurt?”

“Yes, the cars only got scratched, but the other side is clutching their necks and making a scene.”

“...That’s terrible luck.”

Yoon Seok-hwan clicked his tongue.

He could picture it without any explanation.

This sort of thing happened often when managing celebrities.

But he had no time to pity that manager now.

“This is going to be a problem.”

To think the star singer scheduled to close the finale, with the market head himself in attendance and a crowd waiting, might not make it.

The situation was bad.

While he calculated whether this would reflect poorly on NewBlack, the event agency’s team leader came running in, looking wild.

“Director, Director Yoon!”

He was so flustered he’d left his umbrella behind and was panting.

“You’ve probably heard the basics, but Teen Spirit had a minor collision—”

“Yes, they can’t come due to the collision.”

“I just got off the phone with their onsite manager. We’ve located their vehicle and will dispatch one to pick them up. It should take about forty minutes—”

Yoon Seok-hwan’s eyes narrowed.

He guessed why they were telling him this.

In two minutes, NewBlack would finish, and then the rookie girl group Blink would go on.

Their set lasted at most ten minutes.

So until Teen Spirit arrived, there’d be another thirty-minute gap.

The agency team leader spoke desperately.

“I’m sorry, but could I ask a favor? We’re in a crisis here—”

“Have you asked Blink?”

“They want to help, but this is their first album cycle and they have no repertoire prepared.”

“And the other artists?”

“They’ve all left; right now only NewBlack is here. Some have already entered the tollgate. We urgently asked Bo-hyung Song to come, but it’ll take him at least thirty minutes—”

In other words, could NewBlack help cover?

It was awkward.

Normally he’d be open to it but today things were complicated.

First, the rain.

If he pushed these already soaked kids harder, they might catch colds and disrupt future schedules.

And the audience composition was terrible.

A middle-aged crowd not inclined toward idols, and Teen Spirit fans braving the foul weather to wait.

He could easily do something good and still get cursed out.

But there was no easy way out.

With no other artists left and asked by a frequent partner, he couldn’t simply refuse.

Unless there was something in it for him, he wasn’t willing to take this risk.

Sensing his hesitation, the agency team leader added hurriedly.

“If you help out this once, we’ll compensate you generously. NewBlack has done many events, and if you help us resolve this, we’ll return the favor. I’ll set up a meeting soon—so please, find a good way to handle this—”

“All right.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll talk to the members.”

“Thank you so much!”

“But I can’t promise anything. It’s not a decision I can make alone. If the company policy forbids it, even I can’t override it.”

“Still, thank you!”

Yoon Seok-hwan gave the team leader a businesslike smile, as if to reassure him.

At last the stage finished and the five members came down, flushed with excitement.

Yoon Seok-hwan briefly explained the situation.

As he spoke, expressions of regret, embarrassment, and awkwardness flashed across their faces.

“What do you think?”

After a moment of confusion, the members turned their heads toward one person.

And that person was deep in thought.

I’m flustered.

We just barely held the kids from falling onstage, endured the wind and rain blasting through our in-ears, and finished the event.

And now they want us to fill in onstage.

When I looked awkward, Seok-hwan nodded sympathetically.

I was about to ask his opinion, but he seemed to think the same as me.

This is a burden.

I don’t want to do it, but I can’t refuse.

I spoke to the agency staffer who’d been staring at me anxiously.

“You’re the team leader, right?”

“Yes.”

“How many minutes do we need to fill?”

“About fifteen minutes until Bo-hyung Song comes as a substitute.”

Fifteen minutes.

“About five minutes will be covered by the MC’s remarks.”

He hurriedly explained.

Their politeness belied how urgent this was.

I glanced at my anxious juniors and confirmed their thoughts quickly.

“How do you feel? Any opinions?”

The four exchanged looks, then the representative, Viju, stepped forward.

“I’m not sure how many songs we can do, but it might be better to help. We’re already wet—what’s one more time getting soaked?”

Since it was awkward to refuse, the members decided to agree.

I felt the same.

I turned to the agency staffer and spoke.

“We’ll go onstage and see.”

“Thank you! Really!”

The team leader grabbed my hand and dashed back into the rain.

His joy seemed overwhelming.

For a moment, the warmth in his hand touched my heart, but only briefly.

My mind went blank.

It felt like giving alms to a grandfather on the street only to realize he had no bus fare home.

What should we do?

We have ten minutes to fill.

At about three minutes per song, that’s three songs.

If we stretched our talk, we could make it two songs, but then we’d need eight minutes of patter, and the audience would laser-stare us to dust.

So three songs.

But which ones?

I needed the MR tracks, but I didn’t even know what to sing.

This is a chance, Woo-joo. A chance to turn this into something.

I resolved to make the best of it, but my mind was still fuzzy from the pressure.

When was the last time I felt this stressed? Probably the showcase sound incident.

Like then, I secretly hoped for some hint, then shook my head.

I’d have to solve this myself.

As I racked my brains, a hand suddenly landed on my shoulder.

Only one member could reach me from that angle.

“Hyung.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t worry too much.”

Jung-hyun said, looking at me.

“This time we can think together.”

“...”

“At the debut showcase you were alone, but here we have time to think together.”

His soothing mid-low voice tickled my ear.

“So let’s think together.”

“...”

That was touching.

“If it goes well, we all go well. If it fails, we all fail together. Isn’t that good?”

Even if it ends in disaster.

“I don’t want to fail.”

“Neither do I.”

“Of course it has to go well, Woo-joo hyung.”

“No, I meant don’t burden yourself.”

Their banter made me laugh.

“Hey, hyungs are laughing. Now Woo-joo hyung is smiling.”

“Whoo, thank god.”

“Why are you guys like this? Was my expression weird?”

“You were too serious—like you were carrying the world’s worries alone. I thought the earth was ending.”

Ri-hyuk said offhandedly.

“Like Jung-hyun said, let’s think together. We have to line up about three songs. We have....”

“Ten minutes left, Ri-hyuk.”

“We need to decide quickly.”

“Seok-hwan just asked the staff and they said we have twenty minutes. The MC will stall as much as possible, so decide soon.”

Twenty minutes to choose three songs in ten minutes.

 My mind was a blank page, absurdly thinking of that as a title for a song.

Still, I felt calmer than before.

Not making the decision alone but sharing ideas.

“Then let’s narrow down the list.”

I went back in time to when we were actively promoting.

There weren’t many songs we’d prepared.

Something

Between

Babbada

Surprisingly that was it.

“That’s all.”

“We’ve decided: three songs.”

“No. Between is basically a rearrangement of Something, so playing them back to back would bore the audience.”

“But we did both at MBC music show, didn’t we?”

“Hey, Wang Ji-ho. The talk segment was longer then.”

Faced ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) with choosing one, Between was out.

In terms of recognition, it was on another level.

Something stayed high on the charts, unlike Between, which rarely even appeared.

And we’d practiced Something often for event stages.

“So what’s the third song?”

“Acoustic Fireworks like at the showcase? No, that’s too much. We just did Fireworks.”

“We need to cut the idol color as much as possible.”

I said.

“Now, because of the rain, the order is Street Boys, us, Blink—three idol acts in a row. The audience is older, they’ll get bored. Another idol song would flop.”

“Hmm....”

While my juniors rubbed their chins, Ji-ho seemed to remember something.

“That reminds me of what you said at the year-end evaluation.”

“What about it?”

“You said to consider time, place, and situation when planning a stage.”

He was referring to the three factors I usually considered.

Late night, slippery floor, audience bored of idols.

What else?

Ah.

That’s it.

“Seok-hwan hyung, who’s next after our fill-in?”

“Trot singer Bo-hyung Song.”

I almost shouted “Ah!”

Because I had a good idea.

But I needed to check one thing first.

“Mingi hyung, could you get the USB from my bag in the car?”

“USB?”

“Yes, it’s in a black pouch. Don’t touch the black box next to it. Just the USB.”

While Mingi hyung ran to the car for the USB, I briefly explained my idea to my juniors.

Fortunately they liked it.

“Not bad.”

Even the picky Ri-hyuk responded positively.

As Seok-hwan handed the USB to the staff and gave a few simple instructions, we confirmed one more thing.

“Yes, is this Bo-hyung Song’s manager? Ah, do you drive yourself? When can you arrive? Yes, fifteen minutes should be enough. We’ll be waiting. Yes, the sooner the better.”

After hanging up, Seok-hwan gave us the OK sign.

Now everything was ready.

We’d put it together in a flash, and quality was uncertain, but we had to try.

And then.

“Thanks, guys.”

Before going onstage again, under the umbrella held by our two managers.

“Thanks to you, I....”

“Hey. No time for cheesy lines now.”

“Yeah.”

“Huh? I wanted to hear it.”

“We’ll talk after, okay?”

“...I’m so hurt.”

Seeing my juniors giggle, even I joined in that laughter soon.

It eased my tension a bit.

We gave a small fighting cheer and went back onstage.

The atmosphere at the venue was not good.

MC Jeong Hyo-jin swallowed hard at the chilly mood.

She had just announced that Teen Spirit would be a little late.

Most faces were dissatisfied, and idol fans in the crowd looked very prickly.

Amid such adversity, she revived the mood with witty remarks and an impromptu prize draw.

Of course it didn’t last long.

“When will this ever end? Who’s up now?”

“Maybe those who went on earlier.”

“The idol kids? Again?”

Families on an outing voiced their complaints.

Among today’s idol acts, only Teen Spirit was familiar to the general public.

Especially parents with teenage children.

In that age group Teen Spirit rivaled TNT in popularity.

So enduring unknown rookies was driven by the hope of seeing famous faces from TV.

But even that was delayed.

The elderly were particularly displeased, grumbling they’d rather hear trot than strange young kids again.

Yet the angriest were elsewhere.

Teen Spirit fans who’d come an hour by bus from Seoul were nearly boiling.

Especially the home-mas (fan photographers) who had set up cameras to post online.

Some extreme fans wanted to shout at the organizers, but PBS and Gyeonggi TV cameras stationed around quieted them.

They didn’t want to harm the fandom’s image after last time’s incident at the department store event, when a fan cursed at a rookie girl group.

So they vented only on social media.

Meanwhile, in the front row under the best tent, the mayor’s aides were restless.

“The event management is really....”

Mayor Kim Yeong-geon stopped mid-complaint when his wife gripped his arm, but he couldn’t hide his displeasure.

What was this?

They couldn’t even prepare for rain properly, the singer was late, and who scheduled four idol acts in a row?

This festival was his first event with citizens since taking office.

He’d been promoted from councilor to mayor in the June local elections.

He thought nothing could be more unpleasant early in his term than hearing this festival compared unfavorably to his predecessor’s.

He turned his head toward the crowd.

They looked bored and annoyed.

‘This isn’t going to work.’

Even if a group called T-Spoon came, this mood wouldn’t lift.

He clicked his tongue and looked back at the stage.

Although the rain made the weather dull, an idol with a striking appearance calmly ascended the stage.

Please.

Not even a great performance, just keep this mood from plummeting, he prayed.

Just then Mayor Kim frowned.

‘Why are only two people onstage?’

He muttered, wondering if the rest had left, when soft music started playing over the speakers.

He found it strange.

Because the music wasn’t idol music.

It was a warm melody that soothed the ear.