All Spark members appeared in this concept photo with something held in their mouths.
Jeong Seongbin had a pen; Kang Giyeon had a mask strap—one strap hooked on his index finger and pulled for an absolutely killer composition; Park Juu had a syringe cap; Lee Cheonghyeon had a plastic card; Choi Jeho had a leather glove.
Last, Kim Iwol held a lipstick cap.
I’ll say it again.
Kim Iwol held a lipstick cap!
His black comma-bang cast shade across his face. Because the case was thick, the corners of his mouth were spread a bit wider than the others’, and a grayish shadow fell there too.
The glossy black case was painted red on the inside. In an otherwise dark photo, that became the point that seized your eyes.
≫ Kim Iwol lipstick? Kim Iwol lipstick? Kim Iwol lipstick? Kim Iwol lipstick? Kim Iwol lipstick? Kim Iwol lipstick? Kim Iwol lipstick? Kim Iwol lipstick? Kim Iwol lipstick? Kim Iwol lipstick? Kim Iwol lipstick? Kim Iwol lipstick?
└ Let’s calm down and talk about lipstick calmly. We’re all lipsticks here. A bunch of grown lipsticks talking only about lipstick like this—feels like we’re taking the bait lipstick-style, so let’s lipstick
└ I’m scared here
the hell do you mean Kim Iwol lipstick?????
≫ Has Kim Iwol lost his mind or what
≫ Things to check when the album drops: the producer credit
You’re never leaving now—go bury your bones at UA
└ But if it’s Iwol’s name alone again...?
└ Then UA dies
≫ Final Spark concept photo is out!
Iwol-ah
Iwol-ah... you know how rough the world is these days...
If you do a concept like this and the noonas abduct you, then what—seriously
└ Honestly, at this point Iwol listed himself on Carrot Market asking to be abducted. The noonas are innocent
≫ Milky-pale bloodless skin + red lips + black hair + suit = high-stimulus bang bang
My kid is showing the dignity of an adult member. I’m dying of pride, f**k
≫ Ah f**k I’m dizzy
Sick of the reality that I can only own this digitally
└ I wish they’d just release this as a photocard... I want to buy a toploader and decorate it with lipstick
└ Wow is your education strap three meters long?
└ Two hundred fourteen meters
≫ I have no clue what the concept will be, but I do know I have to buy the album
UA’s good at business... with zero spoilers they’re making me buy on the spot
≫ I’m pretty hyped for the photocards
Can I be? I’m going to be, okay?
The result was that Baek Haewon ended up waiting endlessly for Spark’s new song and MV to drop.
And that title track we heard briefly in the recently released highlight medley—how good was that?
The vibe was quite different from Spark’s usual songs, but that actually raised the fandom’s expectations.
A sign that something big was coming. He felt elated.
Please, let the outfits be insane. Please, not a bargain-basement set.
In the middle of every prayer short of drawing water, his phone alarm rang.
Spark’s new MV had been released.
A dark conference room with only drum beats ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ and electric guitar underlaying the scene.
Centered at the head seat is Jeong Seongbin; on the left row sit Park Juu and Lee Cheonghyeon; on the right row sit Choi Jeho and Kang Giyeon.
At a gesture from Kim Iwol, who has stepped up to the lectern, the projector throws light.
A man’s photo appears with a simple profile and the line “Needs protection from threats due to internal whistleblowing.”
Jeong Seongbin, twirling a pen, leans back. The chair’s backrest tilts slowly.
A close-up of the pen tip tapping paper—then, at Seongbin’s fingertips, the cap comes off.
The scratch of a fountain pen layers over the guitar.
Black ink flows from the nib; with a hurried scrawl, the word “MISSION” is written across paper—and the camera cuts in an instant.
“I want—when the last person
standing by your side
is me.”
Wearing a techwear-feel jump suit, Kang Giyeon sits on the hood of a black imported car.
Because one knee is bent, you can see, below the raised trouser hem, the crisp line of ankle-hugging work boots and the leg line rising up the calf.
“Fk fk fk fk.”
Baek Haewon debated pausing the MV. But debate was a luxury.
“Hold your breath and wait.”
The group-dance section hits before the line even finishes.
Everyone in gray suits with black accents.
Leather harnesses with silver glints.
And...
“for the moment
you call me.”
...exposure from Kim Iwol intense enough to knock your mind out.
Baek Haewon slammed the space bar. Then, fingers laced and forehead pressed to them, he took deep breaths.
He even looked at something far away. The title of a self-help book on the top shelf—he couldn’t remember why he’d bought it—was perfectly legible. So his eyesight wasn’t failing.
“My heart’s going to explode.”
What on earth was he supposed to do with this overwhelm?
He wanted to shout immediately. He wanted to scream to his fellow Handsome-Man Hunters, “Aaaah, Spark has done it, everyone!”
But he couldn’t. He hadn’t even watched half the MV yet.
“Don’t go screaming on the timeline without me, friends...”
Praying hard, he calmly dragged the play bar forward. It felt necessary to rewatch jump-suit Kang Giyeon first.
Rewatched, Giyeon was truly incredible. A cinched belt, glossy boots—nothing missing.
And the climactic group-dance scene came back.
First up, the part’s protagonist and this song’s intro lead, Kang Giyeon, in a tight black halter-knit with a gray suit matched top and bottom.
Every time he stretched his arms sideways for the choreo, the ends of his collarbones showed crisp under the lights.
Between teal hair slicked straight back with not a single baby hair, silver piercings gleamed. Linked by fine chains, the piercings jingled and swayed with Giyeon’s head tilts.
Same-age Lee Cheonghyeon wore a similar suit, but the piece inside was different. His inner was a mock turtleneck, tight-wrapped by a firm-material harness.
Park Juu’s outfit didn’t look much different from Cheonghyeon’s.
But with a trained eye, Baek Haewon immediately caught a flash of pale skin peeking over the closed jacket.
“He’s wearing a crop inside!”
He swore UA out in his head. You put him in a crop top and then hide it? Palates-of-no-taste bastards.
Then he flipped his stance and praised UA to the skies.
How did they know that showing it sly like this is exactly what drives people mad? Palates-of-exquisite-taste bastards.
Jeong Seongbin seemed wrapped up tight in a three-piece, but there were slits at the jacket cuffs and trouser hems, so with every change of move, wrist bones and ankle bones flashed. Maybe because his body was otherwise covered head to toe, those round bones stood out all the more.
Didn’t Kim Iwol say at a fan meeting that they wouldn’t even think about a sexy concept until the younger ones’ IDs arrived and the ink was dry?
“Was that code for the hyungs taking all the sexy concepts?”
Case in point: Choi Jeho standing right behind Kang Giyeon.
A bare-skin harness.
A bare-skin harness.
It was so shocking he kept muttering it—a bare-skin harness.
For a single jacket button to hold, Choi Jeho’s body was far too solid. Every time he moved, bare skin flashed inside the jacket. Whether he’d oiled up, light shimmered softly off his abs.
Out of this world. Once again Baek Haewon felt acutely that he had a vocabulary problem.
The darker-gray suit than the younger ones was high-stimulus too. Add a leather harness running from the choker down the line of his chest...
How did this MV pass review, exactly. Are they saying that so long as the jacket’s button is fastened, even this Choi Jeho can be released all-ages?
It was so absurd he felt a headache coming on. He learned for the first time that a human can suffer from being too happy.
And beating out all members for shock-point number one: Kim Iwol.
He hit play. When Giyeon’s part ended, Kim Iwol appeared again like before.
Dressed to absolutely kill.
He paused again. Before even two seconds had passed.
As if bewitched, his hand flew to his mouth. To maintain one’s last shred of human dignity, instinct screamed that now was the time to cover his mouth.
Like Choi Jeho, he was bare-skinned—but Iwol’s skin tone was extremely fair.
Maybe that’s why, instead of a harness under the cropped jacket, he wore a silver body chain. He’d missed that detail earlier, blinded by the bare skin.
Even after dazzling every viewer, apparently he wasn’t satisfied. How else do you explain baring his back like that without fear of the world.
With his back to the camera, every time he danced the jacket flipped up and fell back down. When shadows pooled over the spinal erectors, Haewon’s heart fell with them.
And when he turned front—don’t even start. People had said he was strict about diet and workouts, but who would have imagined muscles that sculpted.
Mom, our group’s top vampire is an abs-heartthrob... Baek Haewon thought he might faint.
Most infuriating of all was that outrageously illicit back tattoo.
Tattoo on a model idol like Kim Iwol—what? Do you want to see how scary feral Sparklers can be? And on the wide white back of a 183-centimeter giant, you ink a bouquet? I haven’t even done anything good lately; why do I keep getting gifts?
He sprinted to a search portal. Then he furiously hunted for the flower he assumed dominated Iwol’s back. But with over four minutes left in the MV, he had to return.
Once I finish, someone will identify the flower blooming on his back. Trusting his comrades, he refocused on watching.
The scene returned to the conference room.
The projector showed a man, blindfolded, being forced into a car.
“I’ll escort you
all the way to the stage.
Match my steps—
I’ll wait.”
Dressed like a third-generation chaebol, Jeong Seongbin pulled a black file from between luxurious books.
When he spread the paper from that file across the solid-wood desk, a giant blueprint appeared.
“Looks like it’s a story about rescuing a threatened man.”
With a forged ID, Lee Cheonghyeon entered the building and, face lax, skimmed the lobby among people getting off work.
His POV was soon edited like CCTV footage and relayed to the laptop that Choi Jeho and Kang Giyeon were watching on the roof.
While the part-owner’s solo cuts interwove with the main story, Spark members split up to their zones.
After Park Juu injected a worker in the control room and knocked him out, Cheonghyeon came in and shut down every CCTV power line.
On that signal, Choi Jeho and Kang Giyeon, waiting in the dark, breached a high-rise office from the building’s outer wall. The two men who broke the city night cornered a person who looked like the target.
Meanwhile, under a clear sky among rows of containers at a port, Kim Iwol came into frame.
From behind a container, a reticle seemed to lock on him as someone aimed a gun his way.
The instant the trigger was pulled—
Thwack!
With a popping sound, the screen went red as if hit by a paint round.
What wiped the splatter was a black-gloved...
“Only one objective:
to be the one left
at your side—that’s all.”
...smiling hand—Kim Iwol’s.
Perched atop fallen men, he deftly popped a magazine.
Looking at the magazine smeared with lipstick, he pulled a lipstick from his pocket and twirled it in his hand.
He retraced his steps.
An open container and a spilled box of lipsticks labeled “For Export” slid past in the background.
Soon he came face-to-face with the man, still blindfolded and tied, marooned at the port.
“A movie. It’s a movie.”
Haewon’s emotion at the wholesome rescue lasted only a moment.
He thought it ended beautifully with the flawless group-dance and Park Juu blanketing the place with sleep gas for the exit—until the story entered a new phase.
Under a dim dawn sky, a ravaged office came into view.
Big shots who’d been threatened overnight wore furious expressions and made calls left and right.
Then, on the laptop screen that Choi Jeho and Kang Giyeon were watching from the building roof, the man they’d thought Iwol had rescued appeared—still tied up exactly as before.
At that moment, the boxes around the man began to burn.
“Don’t tell me the twist is that Kim Iwol was the mastermind?”
Please, no. Spark is one! You palate-idiot UA bastards!
Baek Haewon fumed.
But just before he could grab the monitor—
The song stopped. An artificial rest.
