Thirty minutes later, a post appeared on NewBlack’s official SNS.

@The_New_Black_Official

The lunchboxes you sent were absolutely delicious! Woo-joo hyung said he was eating army food around this time last year and was so moved he cried. It’s true. Junghyun and Jiho each ate one more. Rihyeok didn’t leave a grain of rice for the first time.

#ThankYou #LoveYou

Then, along with photos of us eating, long reviews appeared—like food bloggers—describing how tasty each dish was.

Fans on site began uploading verification shots one after another.

@IiiiII23

Came out of the workshop and ended up eating chicken, thanks guys,

#TodayImBecomingAPigAgain #DietCrying

The SNS posts by NewBlack’s fans quickly spread to the fan café.

-ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

-I want to spread this to everyone immediately. Please stan our kids. Let’s become rich in body as well as heart ㅠㅠ

-Last time it was subway snacks, now workshop chicken supportㅋㅋㅋ

-I’m on site right now, it’s so good... diet is canceled today

-Chicken acknowledged

-On-site report) Chicken 10 servings vs. eco bag debate

-ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

-On-site report) Eco bag wins by landslide

-Breaking) “But what if it’s chicken handed over by the kids?” a fan asks, crowd murmurs

-Breaking) “‘Kids are kids and chicken is chicken’ a dramatic consensus reached

-ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

-Wow, it must be so good frying on site?

-Yes yes, the head chef from headquarters came? Jiho’s father works at that company, apparently

-No way, amazingㅋㅋㅋ

Amid the fan café uproar, Lemon Entertainment’s PR team worked as usual.

They reviewed the SNS content the members had posted, and turned the heartwarming story of gifts exchanged between fans and artists into a press release.

When the busy work finally settled somewhat, the PR team leader spoke.

“It’s about time [N O V E L I G H T] for the ending stage, right?”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“Turn on the TV. On days like this, you’ve got to watch it yourself.”

Someone picked up the remote and turned on the TV.

They scrolled past the terrestrial channel they’d been monitoring for a company actor’s drama, up through the numbers.

On the channel labeled “HBS MTV,” Showtime was airing live.

As Soul Six from Eoullim Entertainment performed, staff rolled their chairs up to the screen.

Soon Soul Six’s stage ended, and the final three acts began.

Unlike usual, they went in order of seniority.

“It looks like our kids are last. No one’s going to talk trash over this, right?”

“It’ll be fine. There aren’t fandoms big enough to nitpick something like that. Unless it was Teens’ Spirit or something.”

“They’re all about the same size anyway.”

“I’ve seen in idol communities online—they’re saying this week’s Showtime first place is honey-level sweet.”

As everyone cracked wry smiles, someone asked,

“Who do you think will win today?”

“Well, probably Misty. Among the three, their fandom is the largest. Since their last album they’ve been getting better, and their performance this time isn’t bad. They’ve even been in third place on other music shows.”

“True, their fandom’s got real power.”

“How about Joanna?”

“Really?”

“She used to be in a girl group before going solo, so she has a solid fanbase. Even if it’s small, it’s very core.”

“But her album sales aren’t great.”

No one thought NewBlack would win first place.

The numbers just didn’t support it.

If it were the third or fourth week, maybe, but overall our metrics were on the low side.

Then—

NewBlack’s “Fireworks” stage began.

“Wow.”

Someone exclaimed.

“Look at that stage quality. No wonder the station gave it the finale slot.”

“They’re really good.”

“And today’s makeup looks great too. Their expressions are amazing—this is why they fed them good food.”

“Woo-joo’s going all out.”

We admired NewBlack members singing the “Fireworks” chorus.

And the refreshing song, too.

“Fireworks always sounds good. From the first listen I thought, ‘This is going to be big.’”

“The A&R team says the song’s so good it might not hit the year-end charts, but it’ll stay on them for months.”

“We’ll have to promote the official ‘Night Sea’ release hard. If it goes well, both could chart together.”

“Look at the kids performing over there.”

Someone smiled fondly and changed the subject.

“When they debuted with Something in March, it felt so babyish. Now they seem like pros, don’t they?”

“Exactly. They really look like celebrities now.”

“How’s the real-time reaction?”

“It’s not explosive, but not bad. Comments asking members’ names because they’re handsome and all that.”

Then someone checked a message.

“Team Leader, Young Daily wants to set up an interview tomorrow. What should I tell them?”

“Put it on hold. Say we have another schedule.”

As the staffer nodded, another asked,

“What schedule? The management team’s calendar shows nothing but music shows.”

“We got an unofficial slot. There’s a meeting with TBC.”

“A meeting?”

Before anyone could ask more, NewBlack’s stage ended and all the performing artists gathered together.

The countdown from five ended, and scores flashed rapidly on screen along with each group’s album art.

-“And the winner of first place is Joanna’s ‘Starlight’! Congratulations!”

-“Congratulations!”

With a shh! the confetti fell from above.

-“Please share your thoughts on winning first place.”

-“Uh... uh, yes. Me? Okay.”

The solo artist in a ponytail and leather jacket looked shocked, her eyes wide as saucers.

Regaining her composure, Joanna thanked the staff and shared her thoughts on her first win as the other artists clapped behind her.

But the PR team wasn’t watching her speech—they were watching behind her.

“Look at those expressions.”

“Our kids’ reactions are great.”

“Woo-joo must’ve told them everything ahead of time.”

At moments like this, you have to manage facial expressions carefully.

In the past, when Sixty Seconds won with TNT, they’d sparked controversy by folding their arms and looking displeased.

Well, of course it wasn’t that bad.

I worried they might unconsciously show disappointment.

After seeing they’d placed third, NewBlack grinned at each other then promptly applauded the winning artist.

They must’ve been so anxious inside.

Seeing them act professionally, the PR staff smiled contentedly.

Then a loud phone rang.

“Have they arrived? Yes, yes. I’ll come meet them.”

As Deputy Manager Hong rose hastily, someone asked,

“Who’s here?”

“Oh, the mascot suits for Myeongdong. The samples just arrived.”

“...”

When we returned to the office, grotesque things had taken up residence in the practice room.

“Ah, you scared me.”

Rihyeok faked a fright and hid behind us.

Though less dramatically, we reacted similarly.

“Am I hallucinating?”

“Hyung, what... what are these?”

“They’re really ugly.”

“Surely they’re not the mascot suits we’re supposed to use...?”

The maknae looked at us with pleading eyes, but we had no answer.

I felt like crying too.

Just a moment ago we’d been laughing and chatting.

Looking at those things made all thoughts of being first-place candidates or the fun at the mini fanmeeting fly out of my head.

All I wanted was for those things not to be the mascot suits.

The maknae hesitated before speaking.

“Hyungs, on second thought I don’t think these are ours. If they were, there’d be five of them, right?”

There were only three suits before us.

“Oh, you’re right.”

Muttering in hopeful denial, Biju said,

“Maybe they’re just samples, for us to choose one from the three.”

“...Choose from those?”

That would be a problem in itself.

Our eyes fell on the three suits leaning against the practice room wall.

From the left:

A bald, flesh-colored sausage-like suit.

A primitive tribe suit.

A terribly creepy teddy bear suit.

If there were villains in the mascot world, these would be them.

“Not possible.”

I said, “Unless the company staff have lost their taste, they wouldn’t pick this stuff.”

“Right?”

“Absolutely. When has Woo-joo ever said something wrong? If he says it’s not, it’s not.”

“True, true.”

“Um, I think we’re all in denial here...”

Ignoring Rihyeok’s words, we plugged our ears just as the practice room door clattered open.

It was Deputy Manager Hong.

“Oh my, you’re back?”

“We just got here.”

“Congratulations on becoming first-place candidates. Sorry I’m late—Iosa Kim told me not to congratulate you until this was over, so as not to add pressure.”

“Oh, it’s fine. Thank you.”

Deputy Manager Hong, smiling broadly, suddenly asked,

“So, what do you think?”

“About what...?”

“About the samples of the mascot suits you’ll wear for the first-place promise. The rental company sent them for you to choose from before ordering.”

“Choose?”

“Yes, I thought it best to give you the choice.”

But the mascot suits were hardly desirable.

“What’s wrong, Woo-joo?”

“Nothing.”

I wondered if it was a hidden camera and scanned mirrors and rails, but found nothing.

Were they serious?

“Okay, then I’ll explain each one.”

She must’ve placed the order herself.

While I tried to maintain my expression, the excited Deputy Manager led us to the left and began her explanations.

First, the sausage-like bald one.

“This is a finger puppet.”

“A finger puppet?”

“Yes, it actually comes as a set of five. From thumb to pinky—five exactly, just like you five.”

She showed us a photo of the completed set on her tablet PC, and I couldn’t help but recoil.

It was decidedly evocative.

“Um, Deputy Manager.”

“Yes?”

“Maybe it’s just me, but doesn’t the middle finger look a bit long...?”

Before I could find the right words, the bluntest member blurted out,

“When they stand in a line it looks like someone giving the finger, Deputy Manager.”

“...Oh.”

She looked startled.

“You’re right, I never even considered that.”

“If we did choreography with knee bends, it’d be chaos. And Myeongdong has lots of foreign tourists...”

“Sorry. Actually, I didn’t pick that one.”

She shared the backstory.

“I ordered the other two, but our CEO liked that one. He wanted to contribute somehow to your mascot suits.”

“Oh...”

“He asked me to keep it secret, but I thought I’d tell you just in case.”

That was considerate.

If later the CEO shyly asks, and the maknae or Junghyun says, “Oh, you mean that flip-off puppet?” it’d cause a scandal.

“Anyway, let’s move on to the other two.”

Second, the primitive tribe suit.

It wasn’t bad—cute, even, sandwiched between the flesh sausage and the murderous teddy bear.

“What about this? The fan café had so many wild guesses that we eliminated them all and only this remained.”

“It’s not bad.”

Rihyeok said, “I think it’s pretty decent.”

“Me too.”

“Hm, I don’t know if it’ll fit my shoulders, but I vote yes.”

“This one’s the best of the three.”

But I opposed it.

“I like the look, but the dark-skinned primitive theme and outfit evoke African imagery. There are many overseas K-pop fans—this could be dangerous. It might be seen as racial stereotyping. Koreans might laugh, but foreign tourists could see it differently.”

Overseas debates on Korean racial insensitivity often center on stuff like this—painting skin dark and making “uga uga” noises.

“I think we should avoid anything potentially controversial.”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

“Then only this one remains. Should we reorder? What about this?”

Finally, the murderous teddy bear.

With those fangs and bloodstained shirt, plus a butcher’s knife prop, it was straight out of a Halloween horror.

Why would anyone put teeth on a teddy bear?

I laughed softly—it looked like it was saying, “I’ll chase you to the ends of hell.”

We stared at it uncomfortably until Junghyun spoke up.

“Wait a moment. I know a designer—let me ask them.”

Junghyun pulled out his phone and called someone. When we looked at him to ask who, he replied, “My cousin.”

Were our tastes so off? The so-called designer praised all the outfits, saying the teddy bear was the most popular with general audiences.

They said they’d show them to their kids, too.

Immediately, two children—about seven and five years old—popped up on video chat.

“How do you like it?”

Junghyun held up the teddy bear to the screen, and the kids burst into tears: “Waaah!” Then the presumed mother’s shrill exclamation and scolding, plus the sound of spanks, and the call ended.

“...”

Silence fell, and we asked,

“Deputy Manager, are there any others?”

“Um... oh!”

She called someone, and a PR team intern arrived dragging a large mascot.

A chicken in a red T-shirt.

“Oh, that’s cute.”

We couldn’t help but say so.

The chicken’s shirt read “Hoho Chicken.”

This one was genuinely cute.

“My dad sent this?”

“Yes, my father said if you needed a mascot suit, use theirs. It’s cute, but the problem is the logo is on the shirt...”

“How about removing the shirt?”

“We already tried. I’ll tell you why it wasn’t an option.”

They took the shirt off.

“Um...”

“Hmm...”

“This is too... provocative for a chicken.”

Rihyeok’s erudite critique was immediately translated by the maknae:

“The chicken is too sexy.”

In the end, we couldn’t choose any suit that day.

When Deputy Manager said she’d look for more options, we pleaded with her not to.

Though she offered to search again.

“There are so many decent ones, but why...?”

We scrolled through the rental company’s mascot profiles, and the maknae sipped his caramel macchiato and said,

“But they’re all so generic. Fans are speculating in the café that teddy bears are cliché...”

Our meticulously planned performances backfired.

Even for mascot suits, fans expected something spectacular—as if we’d have to skydive from a helicopter.

Hearing that teddy bears were out, we swallowed our disappointment and deleted eight teddy bear sets from our wishlist.

“All the good ones are rented out...”

As we reluctantly browsed the site, Seok-hwan hyung called from a distance.

“He’s here!”

We put away our phones and smoothed our clothes.

We were in the café inside TBC Broadcasting.

Tensed, we stood as Seok-hwan hyung approached with someone else.

The reason we’d tried so hard to ease our nerves earlier was this meeting.

“Hello! We’re NewBlack!”

“Oh, hi.”

PD Koo Jaeyoung.

The creator of the nation’s variety hit “Around the World with Dice.”

He was a giant figure with a grim look that made me flinch.

Just as I thought he might be scary, the first thing he said upon sitting down was oddly offbeat.

“Before we get down to business, I want to ask one thing.”

“Yes, PD-nim.”

“Which one of you is the member who did military service?”

“That’s me, PD-nim.” 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

“Oh, I see. If you served, does that mean you’re good at digging?”

...What kind of special feature is this?