The interview location was a Nordic-style café on Garosu-gil.

Since it was a weekday morning, the interior was quiet.

I and Seok-hwan hyung sat across from three men and women from the PBS 50th anniversary special documentary production team while sipping our drinks.

...those who handed us their business cards were devouring the desserts and coffee we bought.

They all had dark circles under their eyes and were digging into chocolate cake with spoons like miners swinging pickaxes, as if eating to survive.

Seeing them, Seok-hwan hyung spoke up.

“Take your time. We still have plenty of time before the interview.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you.”

The assistant director wiped his mouth with a napkin.

“I stayed up all night preparing for filming and haven’t eaten anything yet. Since this is my first meal... it’s a bit embarrassing, right?”

“I was so hungry, really.”

The two writers spoke with grim faces.

While Seok-hwan hyung went downstairs to buy another round, I chatted with the production team.

I learned several things.

Because it was a commemorative special for the 50th anniversary, there was subtle pressure from above.

For that reason, they intended to feature me—a hot topic figure—significantly.

They asked me to be cooperative in various ways.

Perhaps for that reason, I was being spoken to politely by the station staff for the first time since my debut.

Writer Jung Woo-jeong said,

“First, we’ll film the interview here in the café. This will be the main segment, so just answer the questions comfortably. Don’t worry about the camera... ah, I guess I don’t need to explain that.”

“Yes, I’m good at not being conscious of cameras.”

When I nodded, the writers burst into laughter for some reason.

“After this, we’ll go to the company and film practice scenes. You’ve already talked with our PD about that, right?”

“Yes, the members are waiting right now.”

Seok-hwan hyung answered.

Indeed, the younger members were waiting at the company for my call.

I couldn’t help smiling as I recalled how they had come to send me off, telling me to do well.

While the equipment was being set up, I picked up my phone to turn it off.

Biju [Hyung do well!]

Biju [^ㅇ^]

Junghyun [Fighting]

Junghyun [Hwa]

Jiho [I]

Junghyun [Ting]

Biju [Ting!]

Junghyun [Chichi-ppong Kim Biju]

Jiho [Biju hyung got picked]

Biju [What should I do?]

Rihyeok [What are you doing, hyung]

Rihyeok [Also why are you all texting when you’re right next to me]

Jiho [Right right this way Woo-ju hyung won’t feel left out~~]

Jiho [Our old man love you luv you]

A ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) peach-using-a-cane emoticon wheezed in.

This is for real.

Rihyeok [Anyway there’s no normal here]

Jiho [Is you]

Rihyeok [You bastard]

Biju [Rihyeok use nicer words]

Junghyun [(Photo)]

Seeing a photo notification, I opened it to find Junghyun making a V sign against the backdrop of the dynamically moving younger members.

Biju looked like a pet owner who couldn’t decide what to do watching two cats fight.

Jiho [Oh? Number one disappeared]

Jiho [Are they watching..!]

Laughing at the noisy texts, I sent a brief reply.

Me [Thanks]

Me [I’ll do well]

Rihyeok [Don’t pretend we’re parting when we’ll see each other later]

Me [🖕]

Rihyeok [🖕🖕🖕]

Rihyeok [This means I win]

Jiho [He’s shaking his phone right now]

Me [ㅋㅋㅋ]

After that I turned off my phone.

Still, thanks to my brothers, my nerves settled down.

Once everything was ready, the assistant director said to me,

“Look over here once.”

“Yes.”

“Okay, perfect. Ready?”

“Yes, I am.”

The red light on the camera immediately came on.

I remembered the KTN interview I did after Suneung.

I was so nervous back then.

Of course, many things were different now.

The interviewer had changed from a reporter to documentary staff, my clothes from a padded jacket to a short-sleeve T-shirt, my job from examinee to singer.

And the biggest difference was me.

Back then I froze talking to a reporter and couldn’t speak properly, but now I was much better.

My tone was natural and confident.

Having stood in front of cameras often, I’d grown accustomed.

I now knew what I could and couldn’t say, and which words wouldn’t be edited out.

“Before we ask questions, may we show you the footage again?”

“Yes, that’s fine.”

The writer opened a video app on her smartphone.

The CCTV footage from last November’s accident played.

In the distance a car sped up a hill, and below it an old man had parked his handcart.

Watching him calmly on the phone made viewers anxious.

Then, without hesitation, the young man walking toward the school gate suddenly turned and ran like crazy.

He shoved the old man aside to save him, and the footage ended.

“When you ran in at that moment, what were you thinking?”

“Um......”

Seok-hwan hyung and I had practiced possible Q&A, but in the end I decided to answer honestly.

“It’s embarrassing to say this, but I didn’t think anything when I ran. There wasn’t time. The car was coming, the grandfather didn’t know...”

My body had moved before I knew it.

“Rather than thinking what to do, my body just acted.”

“Acted on its own?”

“Yes. Instead of thinking I had to save him, I saw someone in danger and couldn’t think of anything else. It was unconscious. Like when someone misses a step on stairs and you instinctively reach out to catch them.”

When a baby teeters toward the floor from a table, people instinctively reach out to catch it.

My action was the same.

More than altruism saying I must save him, my body reacted instinctively.

That’s why being called a hero sometimes felt embarrassing.

Other heroes probably acted from noble hearts—I’d moved unconsciously.

As I said that, their reactions were strange.

The crew looked at each other and nodded.

They looked like judges at an interview hearing the answer they’d hoped for.

I half expected someone to ask, “So does that mean I passed?”

The writer asked again.

“If something like that happened again, would you do the same?”

“Um... I don’t know.”

I offered a sheepish smile.

“In my head I think I should, but I can’t promise I would. There are so many variables. If I’d had enough time to decide, I might not have found the courage.”

If given five minutes to choose whether to run in or not, I might have made a different choice.

Could I risk my life and choose to run?

“But if, like then, there’s only one second left before action, I think I’d behave the same.”

Again the crew exchanged glances.

What on earth was going on?

I had no idea.

After finishing the café interview, we each got into our cars and moved on.

“...Did I do okay?”

“You did. Your interview manner was good, nothing to fault.”

“No, I think I did well, but...”

“Then why ask, man?”

Seok-hwan hyung, driving, laughed in disbelief.

“You did fine. What’s the problem?”

“Every time I spoke, I saw the writer and PD exchanging looks. So I wondered if I’d said something wrong.”

“Oh... I heard them saying as you left, ‘We found him properly.’ I don’t know what point it was, but your lines were exactly what they wanted.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Well, if I nitpick...”

My manager offered some minor notes on eye lines and interview technique.

I stored them in my mind and checked the GPS time.

Five minutes until arrival.

Perfect timing.

A good moment to say what I’d wanted these past few days.

“Oh right, hyung. I had something to say.”

“What is it?”

“Well...”

I hesitated, then parted my lips.

“I wanted to say thank you.”

“Suddenly?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s deep. At least signal your turn, man.”

“Hyung, you have to be careful. If Junghyun heard that, he might have swerved into the driver’s seat to signal.”

It was a ridiculous joke, but we both laughed.

After laughing for a while, Seok-hwan hyung glanced at me and asked,

“So... why are you thanking me all of a sudden?”

“For Joo Se-han’s schedule. You arranged it.”

I spoke haltingly.

“Junghyun did great too, but you spent the last month chasing the PD to make deals. Getting this reaction wouldn’t have been possible without you.”

“If you think that, I’m thankful.”

“Well, that’s part of it.”

It was because of the interview earlier.

“When we did that interview about Suneung, I remembered how you called me last year and asked me to come to Lemon. Thinking about that, I wondered if I could be doing activities as New Black now without you. Well, anyhow...”

I scratched my cheek in awkwardness.

“I’m saying thank you.”

“......hmm.”

An awkward silence followed.

Maybe I should’ve sent a letter instead.

But I couldn’t write a cheesy letter like “Hyung, I’m so glad...”

So I used this private time to say it.

Yet it felt awkward.

I thought my sincerity got across, but the mood was strange.

Hyung adjusted his glasses, tapped the steering wheel with his palm, and I stared blankly out the window at some distant mountain.

Our GPS alert rescued us.

[You have arrived at your destination.]

As if nothing had happened, Seok-hwan hyung told me to get the guys ready.

Then he said as if he’d remembered something.

“Oh, your door lock.”

“Huh, why?”

“It seems broken so I plan to replace it today.”

“Broken?”

“When I asked for repairs, the technician said he couldn’t fix it.”

“...Really?”

“Yeah, and he said the door lock looked like it was used roughly. Have you guys been opening and closing it up and down a lot?”

“No, we hardly use it.”

Strange things happen.

I thought as I got out of the car.

When I went down to the underground practice room, the brothers were gathered in one spot.

When we’d been texting, they’d sounded excited, but now they looked serious.

Curious, I poked my head in.

“What are you doing?”

Like meerkats, they all lifted their heads at once.

“You’re here?”

“Hyung, did you do well?”

The youngest stuck close.

“Did you talk about me too?”

“Why would they talk about you there?”

“Because you’re our favorite brother...?”

“Wrong. The person I care for most among you is......”

Their heads all swung around.

“......No one. None of you.”

Their expressions fell in disappointment.

Actually I meant it as a joke, but their serious faces killed the timing.

“I brought you drinks.”

I handed out coffee from the box and answered their questions about how the interview went.

Then I pointed at the laptop and asked,

“What were you looking at?”

“Oh, we were looking at articles on the portal main page.”

Biju said,

“There was an article about us, so we were liking and disliking the comments.”

Junghyun turned the laptop so I could see.

Comments like “New Black is the best!!” had likes, while “Oh wow new faces..., who are these nobodies...ㅋㅋ” had dislikes.

I wanted to press dislike too, but I’d heard if you press it twice it cancels, so I clicked twice.

“So why were you so serious?”

“Well, it’s nothing much.”

Rihyeok said,

“One comment split opinions on whether it was positive or negative.”

“What was it?”

“I’ll read it: ‘He’s famous just for his looks’”

“Hmm, that’s definitely subtle. It sounds like praise but kinda sounds like an insult, yet it doesn’t feel bad.”

“Right?”

Biju said,

“So it was ambiguous.”

“Exactly. It’s like I told Rihyeok hyung ‘You have a bad personality but a pretty face’ as a diss but he liked it.”

“Why pick on me? Since when is my personality bad.”

“......”

“Come on. Answer me.”

Amidst the debate, Biju suggested,

“If the majority agrees, shall we press ‘like’?”

“Biju, that’s how they vote in North Korea.”

“Ah....”

“See, hyung’s a communist. Always wants to do everything together.”

Everyone laughed at Rihyeok’s remark.

In the end we split 3 to 2 on upvote vs downvote, so each of us logged in to make three likes and two dislikes.

“Alright, let’s get down to business.”

I clapped to regain their attention.

“Now the documentary team will come film us. Because of filming equipment, an extra crew will join us.”

As I relayed what the manager had said, Seok-hwan hyung led the documentary staff down.

We made brief eye contact, then awkwardly looked away.

Damn. Saying that cheesy thank-you earlier.

“Hello, we’re New Black!”

Just like in the café, the writers’ pupils dilated like a 50-pyong apartment upon seeing us.

They looked astonished.

Writer Jung Woo-jeong stammered,

“...You all look much better in person.”

Laughing at the boys’ “thank you” chatter, I sensed they were being healed by us after all the ups and downs.

The assistant director, still chuckling, explained to us,

“We’ll get a few shots and then leave. Nothing difficult. Just be as natural as possible.”

As natural as possible.

Keeping that in mind, we looked at each other.

We just had to do as usual.

The PBS documentary crew set up cameras in the practice room.

They were about to film a fleeting glimpse of how the former hero was living now.

As everyone began stretching, the assistant director asked Wang Jiho nearby,

“I’m curious: when you’re active, how long do you usually practice?”

“Hmm, it varies.”

Wang Jiho raised his leg in a full 180-degree split like Shaolin martial arts.

The crew shivered for a moment.

They thought screaming after 90 degrees would be normal, yet he looked perfectly calm.

“Isn’t it hard?”

“Not really. We do this every day. Oh, see Biju hyung over there?”

He pointed to the distant member who looked like a refined pretty boy.

Kim Biju was warming up like a nearly limbless creature.

“Biju hyung can sleep even with his legs split.”

“...Oh, I see.”

“By the way, you asked about practice time earlier. We practice from eight to ten when we have music show stages. When preparing for activities, we practice from seven to ten.”

“Oh, that’s less than I thought.”

“Well, it’s enough for me. But Biju hyung and Woo-ju hyung always say we should extend it.”

He covered his mouth and whispered “They nag a lot,” making the crew stifle laughter.

Filming began immediately.

A clear melody filled their ears. The title was something like Flower Viewing, and it was pleasant.

But once practice started, they were stunned.

They executed the choreography sharply to the music, and the boys who’d laughed and cheered earlier now had eyes full of fierce determination.

The practice looked brutal.

The intended footage was “the leisurely daily life of a hero,” but the screen showed “We will rise, we will definitely rise!” burning idols.

They wanted to stop and restart the scene, but the atmosphere was too serious to interrupt.

“Do rookies usually practice like this?”

“It’s a bit scary.”

“Maybe because practice time is short. They try to make it intense and brief.”

Although the three knew nothing about idols, they understood they weren’t just working hard—they were extreme.

But the more they watched, the stranger it seemed.

Were these moves easy after just three or four hours of practice a day? The choreography looked like what professionals would struggle to master.

As the song ended and the sweaty members of New Black panted for breath, the crew, puzzled, asked the youngest again,

“Hey, didn’t you say you practiced three or four hours a day?”

“Huh? Me?”

“Yes. You said from seven to ten.”

“Oh. That was for prep period.”

Wang Jiho tilted his head.

“I meant seven in the morning.”

“.......”

The production team blinked in disbelief.