The soft sound of an acoustic guitar drifted through the air, drawing the audience’s gaze to a single spot.

Beneath the spotlight stood the sharp-featured singer, microphone in hand.

At first glance he seemed cold, but when he closed his eyes and smiled, his expression transformed completely.

From icy frost to a warm spring breeze.

Intrigued by that change, the audience heard a gentle humming.

It was an unusual introduction.

The grumbling couple, the cane-leaning elder settling his displeasure, the Teen Spirit fans chatting away in the fan café—all paused and fixed their eyes on the stage.

The humming felt oddly comforting.

Like a mother cradling a child in the rain, softly humming a lullaby through the steady drizzle.

About thirty seconds passed.

When the humming ended, Seo Ri-hyuk opened his eyes with a soft smile.

Then the recorded sound of waves signaled the true beginning of the song.

Splash—

Because of the weather, the imagery of a “starlit sea” didn’t come across perfectly, but the warm prelude of piano and guitar created an evocative atmosphere.

Slowly, the rotating blue lights began to envelop Sun Woo-joo.

“If you stroll through very old memories

Past the rusty gate’s swaying tail—”

Against the backdrop of raindrops, that voice spread across the auditorium.

Clear diction made every lyric sink in.

Since the song had been written by a grandson for his grandmother, its story was easy to grasp.

A song for the one who cared for him in childhood.

Perhaps thanks to that and the nostalgic “night-sea” melody, the response was warm across all ages.

As blue and yellow lights scattered mysteriously around, the two vocalists exchanged lines.

Of course, the audience didn’t know that the festival’s lighting team was pouring all their skill into creating that mood.

They were simply responding to a beautiful song.

What began as curiosity at the humming had by now blossomed into serene smiles across faces.

When the two minutes and forty seconds ended, the audience broke into encouraging applause.

As the gentle applause greeted the Night Sea performance, MC Jeong Hyo-jin exhaled in relief.

“...That’s it.”

The audience’s expressions had changed markedly.

Not long ago their glares had been so fierce she could feel their stares even while conducting the prize draw.

Now they looked like different people.

No furrowed brows, no pursed lips—only peaceful faces.

Was this the power of music?

It felt like the expressions people wore after watching a poignant public-service announcement; she stifled a smile.

“That was truly a wonderful performance, you two.”

Unlike before, when sandwiched between Street Boys and Blink and treated like “just another rookie group,” all eyes were on them now.

They both looked nervous.

She recalled the keywords NewBlack’s members had shared: Night Sea. Original composition. Grandma fanatic.

“The song was called Night Sea, right?”

—Yes, that’s right.

“The chorus was so catchy. It felt as though you were singing to someone—could you share any backstory here?”

With five minutes to fill before Bo-hyung Song’s replacement set, she decided to use this time entirely to introduce NewBlack.

—Night Sea was composed while thinking of my grandmother.

“I only knew you wrote Fireworks yourselves—this is also an original?”

—Yes.

Curiosity bloomed on the faces in the crowd.

Sun Woo-joo smiled shyly at their interest.

As he calmly explained his compositional intent and childhood memories, the audience’s gaze grew even more intimate.

If moments ago they were nameless rookies, now they seemed like someone’s own son or grandson.

—Actually, I didn’t do it all myself. I had a lot of help with the lyrics from a friend here.

Jeong Hyo-jin smiled at how naturally he shifted focus to Seo Ri-hyuk.

When Ri-hyuk, still blushing, answered questions and the audience chuckled, she saw a signal from below.

The next stage was ready.

While the other members waited backstage, the MC checked the audience’s mood.

It was time to wrap up.

“Now we’ll hear one more song. I’m so looking forward to it—when I heard NewBlack would be performing this, I was surprised.”

She asked in a gentle voice.

“This is also an original, right?”

Idol fans immediately recognized the next title, but ordinary attendees tilted their heads in curiosity.

Another original? A co-written piece? What could it be?

Seeing their intrigued faces, the MC smiled.

“This is sure to get a great reaction.”

No one here wouldn’t know this song.

This time all five stood together.

The audience’s eyes locked onto the stage.

Fueled by the MC’s teaser and genuine curiosity.

“What on earth are they going to perform?”

These were rookie idols—just debuted with Fireworks—and yet something felt off.

Only a month since debut, yet three original songs, one of which everyone knew.

As impatient few began typing “NewBlack” into their phones, a familiar prelude hit.

“Huh...?”

They didn’t know the title.

But it was a song everyone had heard: Something.

A duet about two people flirting—Suddenly the audience realized who the duet singers were.

“So this is them.”

Surprised eyes widened, then with the medium-tempo intro, they applauded in rhythm—just as Koreans do for upbeat songs.

The subdued mood warmed up.

Kim Bi-ju was the first to open his mouth.

“You don’t know my heart

I don’t know yours either

But you know it too, don’t you?”

Some in the audience looked astonished.

He was a familiar face.

Among today’s idols, his dancing had been the most impressive, naturally leaving a mark.

So why did it seem strange?

“I thought he was just a dancer...”

His vocal skill rivaled that of Ri-hyuk and Woo-joo.

In some ways, his clear tenor was even more alluring.

The crowd had expected poor vocals, so their surprise deepened.

Next, Wang Ji-ho took over his part.

He sang beautifully too.

Even the member who seemed to trade only on looks surprised everyone with his vocal prowess, changing the audience’s perception of NewBlack.

They had assumed a dance group because of Fireworks, but now they seemed a vocal group—so compelling that non-idols asked, “Why idols?”

Then some audience members felt dissonance thinking this creator of such songs stood before them.

“How many talents can one group have?”

They had dance skill to spare, held their own singing with the main vocal, and wrote music.

It felt unbelievable—if you told friends about this group, they’d refuse to believe it.

“I saw an idol group at today’s festival—NewBlack. They were filling in, and none of them could sing badly. Even the dancers sang amazingly, like they could all go solo. I’m serious.”

And then—

“And the leader composes too; he wrote their title track himself. And Something? He co-wrote that with Jang Sol-won.”

It was all true, yet it sounded promotional.

Between verses, the tall member grabbed the mic.

Then the rap began.

A pleasing voice delivered rhythmic lines that tickled their ears.

“...”

They added “rap” to their list of surprises.

Meanwhile, the majority of the audience felt something similar, even if less intense.

“Prejudice runs deep.”

NewBlack’s skill was no different from before.

They had simply ignored it because Fireworks was typical idol music; idols dance, so why question it?

With preconceived notions removed, their talent shone through.

Plus, their professionalism.

Despite rain-soaked outfits and an impromptu set, they performed with bright smiles.

It lifted everyone’s spirits.

Through Something’s stage, the name “NewBlack” slowly engraved itself in the audience’s minds.

One thing was certain: of all the teams today, these were the ones nobody would forget.

When the song ended, the applause was fierce.

Its warmth pierced the cold rain.

How long had it been?

It’d been ages since they sang Something at an event, and just as long since they’d received such applause.

Feeling a deep sense of pride, I surveyed the audience with grateful eyes.

Smiling fans clapping, people murmuring in surprise as they checked phones, agency staff exchanging relieved looks—even Teen Spirit fans offered supportive applause.

The tension that had gripped us loosened.

I nodded to the members, smiling as they looked to me, as if asking, “Did we do well?”

“You did great, guys.”

Nearby, Seok-hwan hyung gave a thumbs-up.

Then Mingi hyung, seeing that, traced an OK sign with his finger—signaling final preparations were complete.

—Now only the last song remains.

“Yes, it’s a shame.”

—I hear you’ll perform another artist’s song. Could we hear the title?

“It’s Mr. No Jae-hyun’s ‘Stay with Me.’”

As expected for a classic hit, the audience responded warmly.

Their elders especially brightened.

“Stay with Me” was the trot song we’d sung at the year-end evaluation.

We’d debated several options, but considering the audience’s age and the event’s mood, it was the best closer.

After reviving the mood with Night Sea ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) and Something,

my plan was to blast them awake with this track before handing off to Bo-hyung Song.

Besides, we’d practiced this the most.

Last December, we’d rehearsed ten hours a day for a month, making it second nature.

Though six months’ hiatus meant shaky spots, we’d fill them with audience interaction.

Just as I was planting that seed during banter with the MC—

...Huh?

A murmur drifted from somewhere.

The murmur was loud enough to pierce the rain, so I glanced sideways—and froze.

What was that?

I couldn’t see exactly where the problem began, but around a cluster of staff, water seemed to be back-flowing and spreading.

It looked as though it might overflow onto the side of the stage.

For now, the angle kept the audience from noticing, but once they did, chaos might erupt.

What to do?

First, I needed to reassure the audience, so they didn’t panic.

No, better yet, distract them until staff handled it.

My brain raced.

If we could shift their gaze away for just a moment—

I noticed the gap between stage and audience.

Not sure how, but it seemed our best option.

As the trot intro began, I signaled with my eyes to the two quickest of the four.

They nodded immediately, catching my intent.

If they started, the others would follow.

Clap—clap-clap—

As the lively trot rhythm kicked in and people clapped along, I stepped offstage toward the audience.

Those in the front row widened their eyes.

Finding space in the gap, my juniors followed uncertainly but smiled at the crowd.

We began to lead the applause, clapping above our heads, our bodies moving instinctively.

Perhaps from a month of sleeping-only-when-necessary practice, it felt even more natural than our quick warm-up.

When the first verse began, our maknae stepped forward.

His youthful face delivered the trot’s opening lines with surprising flair.

“Where are you

Here? There?”

When a singer of son’s or grandson’s age grinned and sang, the audience cooed at his cuteness.

Good job, our youngest.

I was about to prepare for my part when Ji-ho moved during his verse and startled me.

Wait—where’s he going?

My heart sank as I saw him approaching the mayor and his wife.

Is he about to do something strange?

My throat tightened as Ji-ho approached them, gesturing playfully while dancing and pointing.

“Why do you avoid me

I’ve done nothing wrong”

With a mischievous smile, he blew a heart at them.

The mayor’s eyes lit up, and the stern man broke into a laugh that stunned his aides.

At the same time.

On Teen Spirit’s fan café, Soul’s free board:

—Are they still not here??

—Why no notice, damn it

—What do we do;;

—I bet the mood is terrible now, sigh...

—Anyone there at the venue, can you report?

A reply came soon after:

—A rookie group called NewBlack is filling in.

—Ah...

—I can imagine the atmosphere...

—They must be embarrassed af

—Uh? No, it’s good.

—?

—The mood’s great here. Seriously.