Duos - A G-Dragon/Seungri drabble set
A 2011 State of MindMore G-Ri drabbles. Someone kill me now. XD
I: Roots before Branches
“What’s your name, kid?” Seungri looked up, eyes curious. The man before him looked no older than himself, yet with the way he spoke and the way his eyes seemed to blaze with experience, he seemed far older than what his face would say.
Seungri bit his lip, wondering if he should say it. He knew this man, this Kwon Jiyong. He was one of those trainees that would make it far, one of those who would become stars and begin a new era.
Should he give this Kwon Jiyong his name?
►
Ever since he was little, Lee Seunghyun, or Seungri as what he would like others to call him, had always wanted to be a star. He remembered, though very faintly, memories of himself singing, or rather making gurgling noises, when he was but three years old and causing the adults around him to laugh and clap in amusement.
When he was seven, he was becoming a little celebrity in his hometown of Kwangju, leading a dance group that performed in schools and clubs and at their friends’ birthday parties.
Yet, for Seungri, Kwangju was a little island in a vast ocean: a small town in the middle of nowhere in a vast, busy and large world. Kwangju was small, and Seungri wanted to go out, to explore the world, to see if he could make it big, to see if he could join the stars amongst the skies.
Of course, there were his parents. Don’t get him wrong, his parents dearly loved their Seungri. They were supportive of him making a dance group, of him performing across town, of him becoming quite the star. Yet, going to Seoul and chasing his dreams? It was a gorge of a difference from performing in a coffeeshop across the street.
Sure, he wanted a stable income like that of a doctor or a politician, but dancing—singing—performing—that was his soul! It was where he felt the happiest, the proudest of himself.
It took him years to pluck up the courage to ask, to see if he could follow his dreams.
“Mama ? Papa? What do you think of YG Entertainment?” Seungri asked, one time, during dinner. His father was already eating, his mother placing down a pot of soup in the middle of their table, sitting down as well.
“I think YG has great artists. Why? Is there a new band?”
Seungri shook his head. “No, I was just asking if—is YG right for me?”
The table grew silent and his parents stared at him, his mother’s eyebrows furrowing. Seungri, fear powering his heart, continued. “Because I—I know that you want me to become a doctor or a lawyer b—but I want to be a star! I want to go to Seoul and make it big.”
Seungri thought it was over, that his parents were going to refuse, that he was going to that college that his parents were speaking so much of. He thought he was going to be one of those children whose dreams were just that: dreams.
“I think YG is perfect.” His father spoke.
Seungri had never cried so much before in his life.
The weather was beautiful on the day that Seungri’s parents saw him off at the bus station. There were tears, but Seungri was not sad. He was chasing his dreams! He was going to be a star!
“Remember, if the other trainees pick on you, just call Mama and she’ll kick their butts and Papa will hang them by their feet, okay?” Seungri laughed and cried and held his parents so tight, torn inside. The tears in his mother’s beautiful eyes, the sadness in his father’s expression: it all made him want to throw his ticket away and go to become a doctor.
But, when his mother forcefully pried his arms off her and gave him a kiss on the cheek, when his father wiped his eyes with the back of his hands and told Seungri that he was so proud of him, Seungri knew. He knew that this was right, that this was his destiny.
He didn’t have wings, wings that will carry him to the stars. No, he had roots. Roots so strong and supportive and relentless; roots that would push him higher than what wings could ever attempt to. Waving goodbye to his parents, to his roots, Seungri knew it was his turn now.
His parents had pushed him as far as they could, and now Seungri has to carve a place in this world for himself. He knew who he was, and he was going to be who he wanted to be.
“I’m going to make a place in this world for me.” He whispered, his breath fogging the glass as his eyes never left the fading figures of his parents, hands still waving.
►
“What’s your name, kid?” Seungri looked up, eyes curious. The man before him looked no older than himself, yet with the way he spoke and the way his eyes seemed to blaze with experience, he seemed far older than what his face would say.
Seungri bit his lip, wondering if he should say it. He knew this man, this Kwon Jiyong. He was one of those trainees that would make it far, one of those who would become stars and begin a new era.
Should he give this Kwon Jiyong his name?
To take a step and put it all in faith and be all the closer to the person he wanted to be?
“My name’s Lee Seunghyun, but you can call me Seungri.” He answered, turning his eyes back to the floor to check if his shoes were tied enough. Suddenly, a hand appeared in front of him, open and welcoming.
He looked up.
Kwon Jiyong smiled. “Hi there, Victory!”
II: Outside Looking In
Perhaps he had known all along. Perhaps he had an inkling already of it all, but his pride forced him to cover it in wraps. Perhaps it was so clear that Seungri, fearing it was true, or rather not wanting to believe it was true, conjured up a lie to protect himself.
Maybe he had known all along that he was a stranger.
A stranger in his own home.
A stranger in a family of five men.
It hadn’t always been that way, or perhaps it had always been that way and Seungri was too scared to admit it to himself. Scared to admit that even though he was in BIGBANG, he still wasn’t less of a stranger than the faceless fellow trainees back in YG.
Seungri thought it was just awkwardness. He thought that the others were simply adjusting to him, now that it was Seungri in BIGBANG and not Hyunseung. Yet, days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months and the feeling of isolation remained. It didn’t help that Seunghyun laughed more with Daesung than with him, that Youngbae spent more time with Jiyong than with him, that Jiyong barely looked his way when Seungri enters a room.
It doesn’t help that when Seungri intrudes in a conversation among the four, they turn to him with looks of surprises, looks that spoke volumes of their thoughts, looks that said “You’re here?” and “I didn’t know you were here!”.
It doesn’t help that their conversation, their laughter, dies down when he arrives and they’re all quiet and looking at each other and grinning and giggling and understanding each other in a way that is natural for people who have been close for a long time.
It doesn’t help that Seungri overhears the others planning on an outing, a group of four friends on a day out and not one of them even informs Seungri; nights of him pressed up against a corner, hiding, hearing them laugh and talk and he could feel love and family in their words and all Seungri has is a cold room and the moon to accompany him.
It doesn’t help that Seunghyun only speaks to him to ridicule him; that Daesung hardly even speaks to him; that Youngbae only gives him cursory glances now and that Jiyong barely acknowledges his existence unless he needed something or to “Tone it down, maknae. I’m trying to work here.”
It was good that he no longer had to share rooms with the others. At least this way, no one can hear him pray, and yes he did pray because he felt that someone out there could hear him when he kneels down and links his fingers and tries to stop the pain in his chest. At least this way, no one can hear him cry at night. At least this way, no one can hear him sing softly to himself, imagining that it was a friend to comfort him. At least this way, he doesn’t have to put up a mask that is slowly cracking under the pain, the pieces slowly falling like a dilapidated building.
Maybe he had known all along that he was a stranger in his own home.
Maybe his heart had known all along what his mind tried to deny.
Maybe Seungri knew what he was all along.
He was a stranger.
He was the outside looking in, and no matter how much he works, how much he gives his all, how much he foregoes sleep and food just to impress his hyungs, how much he sacrifices so that he could be welcomed, Seungri knows that the door will never open for him.
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