Maybe it was the fact that he was familiar and slow and oblivious to the things you were always self-conscious about. Oozing of easy going and calm-collectedness when you were busy grinding your teeth, biting your nails, and nearly pulling your hair out. You were pent up rage and stress when things didn't work out (and things didn't work out a LOT). But then he'd come and unwind you like a little toy and wrap his fingers around your waist and ruffle your hair that took the stylist noonas thirty minutes to do. He'd undo all of that with his warm rough hands and gentle murmurs. Hey, chill out. Easy for you to say. No really, it'll all work out. And you laughed incredulously, because what did he know? And God, look at those dumb dimples. What makes you so sure? And he quirked an eyebrow, gaze kept downcast as he continued doodling cats on the lyrics sheet you gave him a while ago to read. And you felt it bubbling in your chest, the annoyance, the sheer frustration, all looking for the quickest way out. But then he picked you up, winded you like the little insignificant thing you were in his hands. Click. And he let you fall to the floor, wheels turning, grinding fast in so many directions until all the pressure and all the energy released and there was nothing left to move you. 'cause of you. Hmmm? I'm so sure…because it's you, Ji. Of course it'll be okay.' And the fucking bastard left you dizzy all the time.

Maybe it was because those late nights when your brain was buzzing and he couldn't sleep, it was nice sharing cigarettes on the balcony and letting him cheat his diet with a couple spoonfuls of ice cream (shhh, Hwangsoo doesn't have to know) and putting your head in his lap while his hand idly carded your hair while you both watched X-files or Buffy the Vampire Slayer or whatever random American shows came on at 3 in the morning on Korean television.

He's the hyung and you're the dongsaeng, so in all reality, he should've took the lead on this. But he didn't, he was utterly naive, up until the very last second. Even after your foreheads touched, noses bumped, shaking hands grasped onto his arms, he didn't have a single fucking clue. You kissed him and he held his breath and your stomach was doing backflips. Don't you see? Don't you get it? You slipped your tongue into his mouth, and licked his teeth, and sucked on his lip. Everything you couldn't say, everything you held in for weeks, months, maybe deep down, even years, was finally pouring out of you. You were wide-open and vulnerable, walls broken down, just for him. Pick me up. Comfort me like you always do. Your hands were still trembling when he grabbed them and gently pushed you away. His lips were slick and swollen and you were breathing so heavy, as if you were underwater all this time and just came up for your first breath of air. Sweet, fresh air...why Jiyong? And your lungs burned so.

Another day and you laughed it off like it was all just a joke. Don't worry about it hyung. Just pretend it never happened. Please, because it won't ever again. But you weren't convincing and he was all raised eyebrows and too many too conscious glances. But what could you have said? What could you have possibly done to change anything? So you kept going, kept running. But somewhere along the way you felt as if some screw came loose, some spring wound too tight, and you were pressure and stress and nerves all over again. Just waiting for that someone to come help you, release you. Except he never came.

You were so angry, so sad, so frustrated, so disappointed, you stayed cooped up in your room or in the studio until songs were literally flowing out of you. YG couldn't have been happier and you just smiled, relished in the newfound gratification he showered you with. Kwon Jiyong to G-Dragon. G-fucking-Dragon. You were already an idol but now you were an icon, a brand, a definition of something outside of Big Bang. It was scary and liberating all at the same time, because here you were all on your own when you wanted nothing more than to be right next to him. And then they dyed your hair blonde and gave you self tanner and made you wear eyeliner and sleeveless shirts and skinny jeans. You didn't really give a shit until you started to notice he did. You look really good, he said one day, his messy head of still IRIS-curled hair peeking through your door frame. Come inside…over here…sit next to me and ruffle my hair…like you used to…please. You wanted to say to him. But you just grinned, mumbled a thanks, and he was gone before you could even blink. It's okay, nobody had to know Heartbreaker was about him.

Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, whatever. You decided you were over him, and you made a show of it all too ungracefully. Inviting girls into your bed and fucking and drinking and smoking until it hurt. They were soft, plush against your rough ridges and easy and willing. With just the crook of your finger they'd follow, expensive heels and dresses discarded like trash onto your floor, the smell of their perfumes and moans forever seeped into the mattress. Perks of a celebrity, right? Oh, please. The only reason you fucked as hard as you did, groaned and made them beg as hard as you did was because you knew he was in the next room, just a wall away. Hear me, know what you're missing. You were sick and you didn't even care anymore. Sex, smoking, doing marijuana; nothing touched you. You were a man made of ice and that was how you were going to stay. Eventually, it all got too much for you. You tried to get help, but all your words were swallowed by fake smiles and 'I'm fines.' Every day, a small piece of you died, screaming help me, wondering why nobody heard. But nobody was listening to you. After all, why should you not be anything but okay? You were rolling in money and you had a different girl in your bed every night. You were living every guy's dream. Every guy's except yours.

Though you convinced yourself you were over him, you still couldn't help that your gaze would sometimes linger on him for a tad bit longer than necessary. You would catch yourself and punish yourself later. You never really knew when this started, but it just occurred this one day. You had just finished up writing "Lies" and were smoking a cigarette. You felt dead inside and suddenly, you just wanted to feel some kind of emotion. You stared at your cigarette and slowly lowered it onto your arm. It hurt like hell, but you were finally feeling something besides depression and anxiety. You started to do this every time you needed a release from all the pain, an escape from reality, the reality being that you loved him and he thought you were nothing but a disgusting homo. When that wasn't enough, you started cutting. Usually it was just small, teasing cuts on your arms, thighs, any place that would be easy for you to cover up with clothes...and you were okay with it. When he started dating Park Bom, at that exact moment, you knew it was all over. Deep down, you had been holding out, hoping, wishing through this whole time that maybe, just maybe, he might feel something towards you...Now you knew that it was never going to happen. He's dating her and you're nothing but a bandmate who has (HAD) a crush on him. You're practically garbage next to Park Bom.

You silently suffered for two years, literally in a living hell. It was only going to get worse. The announcement came in a creamy white envelope.

Choi Seunghyun and Park Bom
cordially invite you to their wedding
At one o'clock, on the evening of June 28th

Pain overwhelmed every part of your being. This little sheet of paper only cemented the idea that you were truly insignificant in his eyes. That night, you went to the bar and drank until you couldn't think straight. You smoked and smoked until that two packs that you had brought were empty. You dragged some blonde bitch home and fucked her so hard that the whole street heard you. She came screaming her lungs out and you were just goading her on. Scream louder, maybe he'll hear and get jealous. Come morning, you straggled out of your room and guess what? Seungri, Daesung, and Taeyang congratulated you on your latest conquest. You looked to him, eyes filled with hope, even though you knew he was going to get married. He only smiled and congratulated you also. Your eyes started to tear up. But then again, what were you expecting him to do? Say he loved you and that he was sorry for putting you through this hell? That he was afraid all these years of how people would react? Those kinds of things only existed in fairy tales and everybody knew those were complete bullshit. You managed to smile and thank them. How can they not see that you were hurting? You never truly smiled nowadays. Maybe they just can't tell the difference between the two because it's been a while? But no, that was a lie you made up to make yourself feel better. The real reason was because nobody cared enough to pay attention. You were useless. You were ugly. You were fat. You cut down on the amount you ate and none of your so-called friends noticed. Nobody saw that you were practically skin and bones. You only ate enough to pass suspicion and to not pass out every day. You went from a size 7 to a size 2. Your manager congratulated you on your healthier lifestyle, thinking that you were eating healthier and exercising.

Come the day of the wedding, you made up some excuse not to go, saying that you had some promotions or something work-related to do and everybody believed you, when in truth, you went to a seedy club, got drunk until you passed out in some street, and when you woke up, you went back to the club and drank some more. When you finally awoke after what seemed like forever, you made your way back to the dorm and passed out on your bed. When you checked the calendar, you were surprised that three days had gone by. You figured that your bandmates were probably worried, but you didn't care. You dragged your sorry ass into the shower and stood there, clothes and all, until you were soaked and looked like a drowned rat. You washed up and left the clothes lying in the bathtub. With a towel wrapped around your shrunken waist, you walked all around the dorm, looking for any sign of your bandmates. Nobody was home. You went back into your room, changed into baggy clothes, cried until no more tears came, and then you fell asleep. You awoke to the sound of voices. When you opened your eyes, you found yourself looking into another pair of eyes.

'Hey Seungri' you say, hoping he won't overreact because you've got a massive fucking headache.

'What the hell Jiyong? You've been missing for three days and all you have to say is "hey Seungri"? Are you fucking kidding me? Where the fuck have you been?!'

'You are the maknae and I am your hyung, not to mention the leader. You cannot speak to me that way!' you shout.

'Well if he can't, I sure as hell can.' you hear him say and your heart just about stops. Your eyes flash to his hand to see a gold band on his left ring finger and it's that sight that is the deathblow. You just want to cry and yell at him and most of all, you don't want to be alive. You can't stand one more minute of this hell. You make a plan that will solve this problem.

'Top-'

'Where have you been, GD?'

You don't have anything left, but if you did, then more pieces of your heart would be dying right now. You don't even mean enough to him for him to call you by your real name.

'I went to some chick's house and banged the fuck out of her in rounds.' you lie, barely able to stop yourself from puking up everything in your body.

A barely hid look of disgust flashes across his face but you knew him well enough to see it.

'And you didn't think of calling once? We were worried shitless!' Seungri exclaims.

Well obviously not all of you. He doesn't seem to care either way.

'I was kinda busy' you say, hoping it would get them off your back.

You look to him, hoping he'll believe the lie, and yet, you wish he would see through it and ask you what was wrong.

'Sure you were' Seungri says and leans toward you. 'If you were banging some chick for three days, then why do you smell overwhelmingly like alcohol?'

Shit, you thought you washed off the smell when you took a shower.

'How do you think I picked the chick up? Although I bet I could've gotten her even if I hadn't bought her a few drinks. They can never seem to say no' you say with a completely fake smirk.

They just shake their heads and leave you alone. All except him.

'Next time you want to pull this shit, go do it somewhere else because we're all tired of you doing this just to get attention. Stop acting like a five year old and grow the fuck up' he says and then leaves.

You want to cry, but no tears come out. Your plan will have to wait until they leave to go out to the dinner that his new wife's parents are holding. You weren't invited, but you're immensely glad because you wouldn't want to endure the hell of sitting across from him, the bitch that married him, the bitch's parents, and not to mention, your bandmates.

They leave at five, saying that they'll be back at seven. You nod and smile, pretending to be happy for them. The moment they leave, you prepare everything. You take a long shower, not wanting look like a hobo when you die. You grab a long knife from the kitchen, a bottle of pills from the bathroom, a pack of medicine that was supposed to keep you from throwing up, and paper and a pen from your desk. You write a short note, glance up at the time, 6:30, and swallow the bottle of pills. You cut long, hard, and deep on both arms. But in your haste, you forget to take the medicine that prevents you from throwing the pills up. Your vision fades to black and you pass out.

The first thing you see when you wake up is a hospital bed. Shit, you think. You're a failure. You even failed at killing yourself. Bandages are wrapped around both of your wrists. The curtains surrounding your bed open and you see the maknae.

'Why?' you hear him say.

'Because I couldn't stand to live anymore. I would rather die than live in this hell.' you simply reply.

'Why didn't you tell any of us? I thought we were friends'

'I DID TELL YOU! ...I tried so hard to tell you. Real friends would've known something was wrong...why didn't you all notice the cuts on my arm? What about the weight I lost? And all the alcohol I drank and cigarettes I smoked to drown out the pain? Why did it take for me to do this for you to notice? I've been living in this hell for two and a half fucking years. Why didn't you notice?' you cry.

'Mianhe, Jiyong. I was too busy worrying about myself to notice you hurting. We are all so very sorry.'

'Yeah, sure you are. You all are just sorry that this hurts your image. So how is he manager handling the latest scandal? Is it on the front page? "Big Bang's leader, G-Dragon failed suicide attempt"?'

'God, no! The manager had to cover this up. The official story is that you've been practicing too hard and you passed out from dehydration.'

'Of course. Because God forbid if this actually got out into the press, the public might revolt, thinking that the pressure is so high for us idols, that we all become fat, suicidal freaks.' you hiss.

'Is that what you think? That you're a fat, suicidal freak? Jiyong, you're so handsome. Before all of this happened, I envied you. You were talented, handsome, and everybody loved you. You weren't known as the "evil maknae who only got into Big Bang because he annoyed people"..Did you know that? I wanted to be famous so bad that I came here everyday and annoyed the manager until he gave me an audition. I joined Big Bang by being an annoying prick who wouldn't take no for an answer. When I look at you, I saw the person who I want to be. That's why I was so worried when you were missing those three days. If anything happened to you...I don't know what I would do. I...I love you Jiyong.' you hear him confess.

Well isn't that just peachy, you think to yourself.

'Seungri?' you say.

'Yes?'

You tell him about your love for he-who-must-not-be-named and how it will never change. You look at him and watch his facial expressions. At first, he is surprised, then angry, and by the time he leaves, deep sadness is etched across his features.

'If that ever changes...you know where to find me.'

You force a laugh and are left alone in your thoughts. If only you could get over him..You just want to leave everything and start anew. A clean slate, you think. But you need to set things right with him first. You need to say all the things you never said to him. You grab your phone from the stand and text him. He replies that he'll be there in an hour.

Two hours later, he still isn't there. You should have known, but you were planning on doing this even if he came or not. You call the manager and tell him you need to speak to him. He comes straight over and you tell him you are leaving Big Bang. He looks disappointed, but you figure that they can replace you. You ask the doctor if you can leave. You sign yourself out, head back to the dorm and pack all your stuff. You leave a note, telling them all that you're leaving for America and you don't know if you'll ever come back to Korea. After all, you are doing this to try and get over him because you think time and space will help heal you. You board the plane, and you don't look back because that was your past and this is your future.

After seven years in America, you are so homesick that you risk a month-long visit to Korea. The first person you call when you land is Seungri. He picks you up and fills you in on all that happened while you were gone: Taeyang and Daesung got married and adopted a little girl, Big Bang disbanded after you left because they couldn't find a replacement lead rapper, and Seungri got a job in landscaping. Luckily, Seungri did not mention him in any way. He must have know if you heard about him, that you would fall to pieces. You stay at Seungri's house and can't help but notice how he has changed. He has became more mature, but he looks the same he did seven years ago, but with longer hair. Every day, Seungri is caring, always being mindful of your feelings. He takes you out and shows you what has changed in seven years. Most of the time, you accompany him while he works, watching him deal with problems with ease. You cook for him every night because you don't want to feel like a squatter, living there for free. While you eat, you always talk about the randomest stuff, but that's the thing you love about Seungri; that he can make you happy from sad with just a smile and a bad joke. Over the course of the month, you find yourself thinking less and less of him and more of Seungri. On your last day in Korea, you cook a nice meal and prepare to say goodbye to your dear friend. You eat and that dinner is just like every other dinner. He sees you to the terminal and just as you're about to leave, you want, no, need to say something, because you don't want this to end up like it did last time.

'Seungri?'

'Yeah?'

'I love you and I'll be back.'

'And I love you. Always have, always will.'

You smile, pull him in for a kiss, whisper those words over and over to yourself, and when you break apart to board the plane, you know that although you haven't fully healed, with time and Seungri by your side, you could put the pieces that he broke back together and become the person you used to be before you ever started loving him.


A/N: Oh my god this is my first time uploading something to FF...usually my stuff is on LJ or AFF...anywho, I wrote this a while back and am now uploading it here. I hope you all like it.