Spacer’s comeback was orchestrated under the direct leadership of Park Mundae. At first, it seemed to be a clever move timed to exploit the hiatus of top-tier boy groups. Just as Cheongryeo’s comeback activities wrapped up for the season and Testa’s were still only in the planning stages, speculation about Spacer’s return surfaced in the press a few months ago—something akin to “Spacer to make comeback this fall,” which failed to generate much buzz simply because it seemed inevitable.
Months passed, and Spacer’s anticipated return became a matter only their fans remembered. Then, another group launched a massive comeback campaign: Iter. Having made a dazzling impression with their debut, they aimed to strike while the iron was hot and promote once more before year’s end—hardly surprising. “They’re securing Rookie of the Year,” Park Mundae mused, guessing they’d already prepared more than one concept in advance. He noted, “They needed time for year-end chart recognition, so a fall release made sense.”
Moreover, Iter’s appearance at Summer Pool had been completely overshadowed by Testa’s Waterbomb, which oddly turned out to be a boon. Iter’s fans, sensing the unfavorable comparison, quietly refrained from making noise. Retaining their status as a major rookie, their agency, Wonderhall, confidently announced Iter’s comeback and pre-sale date: the third week of October. Park Mundae checked off the date with satisfaction.
Soon after, headlines appeared in rapid succession:
Spacer’s precise comeback schedule was now public, and Iter’s near-simultaneous return was subtly emphasized—only two weeks apart, with Spacer first. The strategy of peaking and then undercutting a declining Iter backfired; now Iter would launch into Spacer’s momentum.
Netizens interested in idols showed far more excitement for Iter; Spacer was no longer a rookie. And from their formation, Spacer had always suffered in comparison to the flawless, higher-tier Testa, whose very existence cast a shadow over Spacer’s buzz and image.
Low-grade trolling aside, this kept Spacer’s buzz alive. By then, idol-centric communities and social media were buzzing over Cheongryeo and Park Mundae’s surprise collaboration stage—a heavier-than-air topic despite fans’ mixed reactions. Yet the general public loved it: two first-tier boy idols in an unexpected partnership performing two contrasting concepts drew huge interest, even charting in YouTube’s trending worldwide.
All the while, hardcore fans on both sides sank into despair at seeing long-hostile rival groups sharing laughs on stage. Though no one dared voice it overtly, everyone circulated cropped GIFs and short clips of individual performances as a way to cope.
Amid all this turbulence, Spacer and Iter’s comebacks were barely a blip. Testa’s fans were only mildly annoyed, and the wider public barely cared. Thanks to Testa’s album success and Waterbomb’s mainstream appeal, Spacer’s fandom remained calm. Everyone expected both groups to make unremarkable comebacks—until Spacer’s teaser dropped.
The teaser itself didn’t ignite a frenzy. It simply showed the members going about daily life in pleasant clips over a catchy melody. Fans commented, “They’re so handsome,” “Their voice... OMG,” “THIS SONG WILL BE AMAZING.” The title track’s addictive hook—crafted by Spacer’s composer Topnote, arranged by Kim Raebin, and vetted by Park Mundae’s keen ear—promised a sleek, polished result. But uninterested casual listeners rarely tread into boy-idol teasers, and the usual domestic and international fan comments ensued.
A few days later, SNS users posted a link asking, “Wait, is this our boys’ song?” Curious clickers were stunned: the familiar melody and members’ voices emerged not in a Spacer video by Orbit Stars, but as a 15-second commercial for a new sports drink called HoneyShakeWater. Spacer had provided their title track—retaining only slight lyric tweaks—as the background music for this product’s CM commercial. Free of charge and under a non-disclosure agreement.
Park Mundae, having nearly missed discovering the ad campaign’s timing, logged out of YouTube to gauge its exposure frequency. “Impressive,” he noted. The ads would run for about a week—an arrangement Orbit Stars needed, given their strained TV slots thanks to conflicts with Network T1. Lacking broadcast opportunities, they chose aggressive YouTube exposure via CM tie-ins.
This non-idol-first strategy placed Spacer’s catchy chorus directly into smartphone users’ ears. Comments ranged from “What is this song?” to “Found it!” By offering an uncontested promotional channel, they bypassed the image risk usually attendant on selling a title track to a commercial campaign. The members, excited by the prospect of maximum reach, had eagerly agreed.
Moreover, Spacer’s MV was stripped of elaborate concepts—no intricate worldbuilding or fiction, just a /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ clean narrative of boys uploading their outdoor basketball-court choreography on social media. This minimized barriers to entry, allowing the video’s feel-good visuals to speak for themselves. Word-of-mouth began to build: discussion threads asked, “Is this Spacer’s song?” and praised the ad’s music.
Five days later, Spacer’s track crept up the charts, breaking into the top 40—the highest rank for any non-debut album post-Ajoosa’s run. Member Kwon Heeseung’s ecstatic messages to Park Mundae even read, “Will it go higher? Even if not, I’m happy, but... should I aim for more?”
Park Mundae, amused by Heeseung’s frenzy, foresaw the strategy’s limits: chart fatigue would set in as listeners recognized the song’s idol origin and CM overexposure. “Reverse virality is still serendipity,” he thought. Testa’s agency Wonderhall knew this too. But Mundae had laid a trap: by booking Spacer’s comeback two weeks before Iter’s and deliberately exposing their promotional weakness, he baited Wonderhall into complacency.
When Iter announced their teaser reveal, they did not adjust their schedule—confident Iter would easily best Spacer. “Male idols prioritize fandom over mass appeal,” they reasoned. They didn’t suspect that Orbit Stars had spent months perfecting this chess move. That very night, a subtle post appeared on an internet forum:
[Spacer’s track is doing well, but doesn’t it kind of remind you of early Teaholic?]
Soon, fans noted that Spacer’s clean, uncomplicated vibe and hoodie-style stage outfits evoked Teaholic’s golden era. Rather than dismissing it, Orbit Stars seized on the comparison, framing Spacer as the spiritual successor to Teaholic while casting Iter in Testa’s image.
And so Park Mundae began to repurpose Iter’s own group positioning against them, turning the narrative in favor of Spacer—one strategic frame at a time.
