There once was a group that sparked a dance craze across the idol industry—a four-member dance group called Potato Pancakes. It was said that the CEO decided to debut the group while eating actual potato pancakes. Pop culture critics credited their survival in the cutthroat idol market to “lyrics themed around peace between nature and humanity, and their razor-sharp synchronized choreography.” But let’s be honest—their real secret to success was their looks. Sure, they danced well, but more than anything, they looked good. That’s why they were popular. Even before their debut, they had already formed a massive fandom. From the day of their debut, the group was trailed by a slogan: “4-1=0.” It meant that if even one of the four was missing, the group wouldn’t {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} be complete. Fans gave each of the members nicknames to match that slogan: Potato Kwon Seong-jun, Salt Baek In-hyeok, Cooking Oil Woo Hyeon-seong, and Soy Sauce Seo Yun-jae. As a joke, fans called their agency the “frying pan.” The crisis came two years after the debut. After releasing two mini albums and their first full-length album, they were preparing to release their second full-length—and that’s when rumors of a fifth member joining began to spread. [WTF, are you kidding me? It’s 4-1=0 and now you’re trying to do 4+1? You wanna blow up the planet? Geun-soo, are you out of your mind?] Kang Geun-soo—that was the name of the agency’s CEO. All the online communities became flooded with people cursing him. Posts filled with “If this is true, you die, I die” were everywhere. Then, on one midnight, the second full-length album of Potato Pancakes dropped. Along with it, a new photo was uploaded to the group’s official website. There weren’t just Potato, Salt, Cooking Oil, and Soy Sauce anymore—there was one more person. Big eyes, delicate features, and a face that looked smart. The addition of the new member was now official. The problem was the second full-length album itself. With the new member added, the entire sound of Potato Pancakes changed. Fans who watched the music video were left with ellipses, question marks, profanity, and hollow laughter. The title track was a soft ballad with piano in the intro, themed around the innocence of young love. It was a complete reversal from their first title track, which had opened with the blare of a vuvuzela. Tweets like “What the hell?” began spreading like wildfire. The Potato Legend fan club rebranded themselves as Potato Battle, Potato War, rallying in fierce opposition to the new member. It made sense. The guys who used to strike sharp formations in dance were now just standing still, softly whispering, “Love me, my beautiful angel”—and singing. Fans had loved their idols’ unique choreography. “Potato Pancakes will become an experimental idol group.” “If the last album showed intense choreography, this one will showcase our heavenly vocals with perfect live performance. The next album will go heavy on hip-hop.” That’s what Kang Geun-soo said when he appeared on a show as a successful businessman or something. On-screen, he even gave a thumbs-up and smiled with all his teeth showing. Like everything was going just as planned. And the only one paying the price for that plan was Ryu Seon-jae. [Seon-jae, if you have any conscience, just leave, you f*cking bastard ㅠㅠ] “...Are you kidding me right now? Who the hell do you think you’re cussing out?” Dragging the mouse to the bottom right of the comment, I hovered over the dislike button. Even though I knew it would only be counted once, I clicked again and again and again. The expression staring at the monitor was twisted with displeasure. To fans of Potato Legend, Ryu Seon-jae was like an eternal ember of destruction—something that refused to die and just kept burning. They cried and cursed, convinced that singing ordinary ballads in the brutal idol industry would only lead Potato Pancakes to crash and burn. And it was all because of Ryu Seon-jae. That random rock that rolled in and ruined their precious boys, they said. “Then curse out the CEO Kang Geun-soo, not our Seon-jae. What did Seon-jae ever do wrong?” I turned my head to meet the eyes of the person on the poster stuck to the wall. Wearing a beige knit sweater, his face shone with a clean, bright smile. If the saying is true that being cursed at lets you live longer, Then Potato Pancakes’ fifth member, Ryu Seon-jae, might just live until the end of the world. He’s the very idol that got me into the fandom. My number one. My best.