I Found the NEWJEANS x PEPERO Collab and Now I’m Having a K-Pop Identity Crisis 🍫✨

 I Found the NEWJEANS x PEPERO Collab and Now I’m Having a K-Pop Identity Crisis 🍫✨ I walked into the Central Square H Mart just looking for some snacks to fuel my afternoon, but instead, I walked into a full-scale sensory takeover by the NewJeans x Pepero collaboration. There I was, standing in the middle of a massive Korean supermarket, clutching a red box of Pepero and realizing that this might be the only group currently capable of making a non-K-pop fan like me feel a deep, soul-shaking nostalgia for an era I was not even born into.

Let’s get into the actual experience of finding these things because if you have ever stepped foot in the H Mart in Central Square, you know it is basically the final boss of grocery shopping. It is loud, it is crowded, and it is filled with things that look so much more interesting than my usual diet. I had just finished taking my dog for a long walk by the lake, trying to enjoy the fresh air, when the craving for something sweet hit me like a freight train. I wandered into the snack aisle and saw the NewJeans members staring back at me from the packaging. It was like the universe was telling me to stop pretending I don’t care about the aesthetic. I grabbed the box, paid, and immediately felt like I had secured a rare artifact even though it is literally just a snack.

The thing about NewJeans is that they are doing something to the atmosphere that no other group is doing right now. I am not a K-pop fan by trade. Usually, when I think of the genre, I think of high-intensity choreography, loud electronic drops, and a level of perfection that feels almost intimidating. But NewJeans is a total pivot from that. When I heard their songs for the first time, it felt like I was listening to something I had already known my whole life. People keep calling it the Y2K or 90s sound, and while I didn’t live through the 90s, I grew up listening to music from every decade. There is a specific spirit in their beats that feels airy, light, and genuinely cool without trying too hard. It’s like they took the best parts of classic R&B and mixed it with a futuristic, clean production that just feels right.

After my H Mart run, I went home and fell down a total rabbit hole. I started researching the group because the Pepero box made me realize I didn’t actually know much about them other than the fact that "Ditto" has been on repeat in my head for three months. That’s when I hit the sad part of the journey. I found out about the internal conflicts and the news that one of the members is officially no longer with the group. It is honestly so heartbreaking when you find the one thing you actually like in a genre and then realize the foundation might be shaking. It felt like I finally found a "breath of fresh air" for my jazz-heavy playlist, only to find out there’s drama behind the scenes that might stop the music from flowing.

The nostalgia they trigger is so strange because it feels like a memory of a summer I never actually had. The Pepero itself is classic, crunchy, and chocolatey, but eating it while listening to "Hype Boy" just hits different. It makes me think about those old coming-of-age movies where everything is filmed with a soft grain and everyone is wearing baggy jeans and headphones. That’s the genius of NewJeans. They aren't just selling music; they are selling a feeling of effortless youth. It fits into my jazz and lo-fi playlists so perfectly because it isn't jarring. It’s smooth. It’s the kind of music you can play while driving with the windows down or walking your dog by the lake without feeling like you’re in a high-speed chase.

I really hope that despite the corporate drama and the member changes, they keep producing music. It would be a tragedy if this specific sound died out because of industry politics. There is something so distinct about their identity that separates them from the "idol" machine. They feel like a group of friends who just happen to be making the best music on the planet right now. Even if they are down a member, the spirit of what they started needs to continue. I need more of those garage-style beats and dream-pop vocals to get me through the week.

Eating these Pepero sticks actually made me appreciate the marketing too. It’s rare that a brand collaboration feels this authentic to the vibe of the artist. Usually, it’s just a face on a box, but the NewJeans aesthetic is so strong that it turns a basic snack into a collector's item. I found myself keeping the box even after the sticks were gone, which is probably a sign that I am slowly becoming a fan despite my best efforts to stay "indie." If you are in the Cambridge area and you haven't checked out the H Mart stash yet, you are seriously missing out on a piece of pop culture history that also happens to taste like chocolate.

In a world where everything feels over-produced and loud, NewJeans is the quiet confidence we all need. They don't need to scream to be heard. They just need a solid bassline and a catchy melody that reminds you of a simpler time. Whether you’re a die-hard stan or just someone who stumbled into a Korean market after a dog walk, you can’t deny that they have changed the game. I’ll be sitting here with my empty Pepero box, crossing my fingers that the next album is still happening, because my jazz playlist is starting to feel a little lonely without them.

If the music stops now, we might have just witnessed the shortest, most iconic era in modern pop history, and I’m not ready to go back to regular radio.

I Am Home ✈️🥀

I Am Home ✈️🥀 Imagine booking a one-way ticket across the globe just to stand in a terminal where nobody is waiting for you. It is the ultimate cinematic gut-punch, the kind of scene that makes a film student like me want to throw my camera into the ocean. I am home, or at least that is what the GPS says, but the silence in this hallway is louder than the jet engines I just left behind.

We need to talk about this specific brand of 2026 nostalgia, this "Homecoming Horror" where you realize you are a ghost in your own life. It is that soul-crushing moment when you realize you are back in the place that raised you, but the person who made it home is a version of you that died three years ago. I am looking at these walls and realized I booked a flight back to a memory, not a destination.

I can only wish for you from afar now because there is a physical weight to the distance between who we were and who we are. There is no reason to get close to you anymore. My presence would just be a glitch in your perfect, bright future. If I am going to falter, if my time in your story is coming to an end, then what is the point of a reunion? Nothing matters when the script clearly shows a future that is beautiful, vibrant, and completely devoid of me.

We are obsessed with the "I wasn't meant for you" trope because it is the most honest thing we have felt in years. Parting is such a sweet sorrow, but let’s be real, it is mostly just bitter. It is sweet because it proves the love was real, but it is painful because it proves the love wasn't enough to change the timeline. Goodbye is a heavy word, especially when it is whispered in an empty house. If I wasn't meant for you, then what exactly were you to me? You were the ray of light that made the clouds disappear for a second, but now the storm is back and I am standing here without an umbrella. I don't know the answer to why we met if we were destined to be strangers again. The only thing I am certain of is that you were beautiful. Not just "pretty" in a cinematic way, but beautiful in the way a forest fire is beautiful from a distance. You are a vision now, a hologram I can’t touch because if I do, I will ruin the frequency. My love remains here, static and frozen, while you fly toward a horizon I was never invited to see.

The film industry is currently obsessed with this idea of "liminal spaces," those empty hallways and quiet airports that feel like the waiting room for the afterlife. As a student of the craft, I see it everywhere. We are moving away from the big, explosive reunions and toward the quiet, devastating realization that some people are just chapters, not the whole book. This article is my way of processing that flight back. I came home to find that "home" isn't a zip code. It was a person. And that person has moved on to a brighter future. I am watching you fly from the ground, and even though it hurts, I have to let my presence stay unknown. If I show up now, I am just a shadow on your sunny day. I would rather you remember the light than see the faltering version of me that exists today. It is a sacrifice of the ego for the sake of the art.

You wander through these gorgeous, sun-drenched ruins where everything is perfect except for the fact that you are the only one left. You find letters from people who loved each other, but the players are gone. It creates this profound sense of "sweet sorrow" that we are all addicted to right now.

Why do we love feeling this way? Because it is the only thing that feels human in a world full of generated content. You can’t code the feeling of being "home" and feeling like a trespasser. This is the artist’s edge. This is our power. We take the pain of "parting" and we turn it into a narrative that helps other people feel less alone in their empty living rooms.

I look at the sky and I see the clouds I used to complain about. I used to say he brought the clouds to my day, and then you came along and cleared them. But now, I realize the clouds were just part of the atmosphere. They were necessary. Without the clouds, I wouldn't have recognized your light.

But light moves. Light travels at a speed I can't keep up with. You are the light, and you have moved on to illuminate someone else's world. And that is okay. It has to be okay. Because if I try to catch you, I’ll just end up chasing a sun that has already set for me. I am staying here in the twilight. It is quieter here. It is safer for you if I stay in the shadows of the "home" we used to share. Fly, my love.  I’ll stay here and finish the script, even if I’m the only one left in the theater to watch the credits roll.

We spend so much time trying to fix things, trying to force reunions, and trying to "go home" again. But sometimes the most respectful thing an artist or a lover can do is acknowledge that the season has ended. There is a dignity in the "Goodbye." There is a certain kind of power in knowing that you were beautiful, and that beauty doesn't need to be possessed to be appreciated.

I can sit in this empty house and be grateful that I knew you at all. I can look at my old films and see the way you looked at me and know that for a moment, the future was ours. But the future changed its mind. And I have to respect that choice. I am home, the door is locked, and I am finally letting go of the key.

Maybe this is the ultimate "warm" message I can give you. It isn't always about the happy ending where everyone stays together. Sometimes the warm, positive thing is realizing that someone you love is happy without you. Their bright future is a win for the world, even if it is a loss for your heart.

That is the "Heaven-sent" perspective. It is about selfless appreciation. It is about the "ray of light" that keeps shining long after you’ve stepped into the shade. So, if you are reading this and you are standing in your own version of an empty airport, just know that your presence was real. Your love was real. And just because you aren't in the final scene doesn't mean you didn't give the best performance of your life.

Even as I write this, my face is cold. It is that "poker face" we all wear to protect ourselves from being too vulnerable online. But my heart isn't like that at all. This indifferent expression is a lie, a shield against the frustration of being misunderstood. It is because I like you so much that I wait again, wondering what I should do with all this leftover energy.

So here is to the visions we can't touch. Here is to the bright futures we aren't part of. And here is to the love that remains, static and pure.

I’m home... here in the hallways of a home that is finally, quietly, burning. My last attempt. 💔🥀