He couldn’t bring himself to knock. He knew what was going on in that room. And he didn’t want to see it with his own eyes. Even standing outside the room, he kept his eyes fixated on the floor. Shame. That’s what he was feeling, of all those miserable options, he chose the one the man on the other side despised the most. To make it worse, he’s too ashamed to tell it with his own mouth, the only thing his coward self could do was stand there, and waited for it to finally happen.

“No! Hyung will never do that!” His breath hitched in his throat. He needed to hide. He thought he was ready to face this, he thought wrong. There wouldn’t be a day he’d be ready.

It all happened in a flash. The door was flung open, and from the sneakers revealed behind it he knew who it was. No, he knew it the moment he heard his voice, no way in hell he could’ve missed it, it’s Jiyong for god’s sake.

He had kind of expected this to happen, hadn’t he? It’s bound to happen. He had rehearsed it a thousand times on the way here, a thousand more in those sleepless nights, just to make sure he wouldn’t chicken out at this moment. But when their gazes met, he swore he heard alarm go wild in his mind but his heart just froze.

For how long they had been staring at each other, he didn’t know, although it felt like a lifetime. Jiyong’s fingers tightened around the metal doorknob before he spoke with a wavering voice. “Tell me you didn’t do it.”

The tone was familiar, that’s how Jiyong sounded when he knew the truth but was willing to take what you were to give. If he said he didn’t do it, Jiyong would take his words. Only if he can.

Like an idiot, he just stood there, controlling his breaths underneath a what seemed stoic face so he wouldn’t pass out. He could feel his heartbeat accelerated and his chest cavity seemed to be pressing in his windpipe. If he failed to keep it under control this would be another panic attack. He didn’t want to lose the person in front of him, but he couldn’t lie either. Not anymore.

So he said the only thing came to mind, “I’m sorry…”

That’s it. The faint hope in those light brown orbs disappeared, consumed by disappointment and betrayal, so overwhelming that he felt suffocated by just looking at them.

Jiyong pushed past him, shoving at his shoulder and he fell to the floor on his knees like a rag doll, all the energy out of his body.

Maybe he should chase after Jiyong, tell him that it wasn’t the whole truth, that he had tried to be better. He had tried. He tried so hard.

No, he then decided. Maybe it’s better this way. Mistakes had been made and there's nothing he can do to erase them.

Jiyong barely talked to him. Even when he did, it’s all about work. It’s not difficult at all given the band’s hectic schedules and almost everything needed to be discussed with and approved by the leader. Sometimes Seunghyun would show up and sit silently in the room full with people discussing over plans in which he wasn’t involved since he would be enlisting in a few days, but most of the time he just stayed home. Nobody cares anyway.

As much as he wished he could be braver, he couldn't bring it up because of self-disgust and shame. So he waited, waited for Jiyong to lash out at him. He thought Jiyong was going to, but after two weeks, he started to think that maybe it's never going to happen. Only that it felt so much worse. Jiyong’s drifting away, the distance between them grew as time passed by. They used to be so in love, and now they’re nothing more than acquaintances who were forced to work together.

In contrast to him, Jiyong didn’t seem to be bothered at all. He still doubled over at some lame Japanese jokes Daesung and Seungri made up, still worked his off in the studio, still teased Youngbae to no end about those love letters he wrote to his girlfriend.

Jiyong seemed to have carried on while he’s left behind, engulfed in shame brought by the stupid mistake he made.

Notice me
Take my hand
Why are we
Strangers when
Our love is strong
Why carry on without me?
 

If the others didn’t notice the change in their attitudes around each other, they finally did at the dinner with the president and few other close friends. Glances were exchanged around the table but nobody said a word about it until after dinner.

It surprised him that it came from the president himself, someone he thought would care the least in this matter. “Give him some time, you know how he is when it comes to this. It’s his worst nightmare.” Seunghyun could only let out a helpless smile and nodded. That’s when the president added, “Other than the time when you’re cut by a piece of glass, of course.” And they both shared a laugh, the tensed atmosphere finally was toned down.

Oh how can Seunghyun forget that. Jiyong almost flipped the whole YG building over when he’s been informed that Seunghyun would go on with the tour with a bandaged hand. That was the first time Jiyong looked as if he wanted to bite YG’s head off.

It was a time when Jiyong still cared about him.

Bringing the glass to his nose, he smelled the wine’s bouquet and slowly took a sip, over the rim of the glass he looked at the man sitting in the far corner of the room, jubilantly sharing something Seunghyun wouldn’t get to know with the group.

When Jiyong casually scanned the room, their eyes met and Seunghyun’s instinct told him to look somewhere else. But this time Jiyong didn’t look away, their gazes remained locked on each other. It lasted long enough before Jiyong went back to the group for Seunghyun to take it as a good sign.

The next day, Seunghyun couldn’t believe his eyes when Jiyong showed up in the salon where he’s getting his haircut. “I don’t want you to go through this alone,” Jiyong simply said when he just stood there, dumbfounded.

Jiyong took pictures of him from multiple angles, kept assuring him that he looked handsome nonetheless.

He felt like crying when Jiyong’s hand wrapped around his biceps and smiled shyly into his shoulder as his manager took photos of them. The president was right, Jiyong just needed some time to cool off.

He kissed Jiyong later that night when they’re back to his villa, or at least he attempted to. Jiyong avoided it. It’s like the ground opening up and swallowing him whole again.

Although Jiyong was lying on the bed with him, he’s so far away that he couldn’t even feel his body heat. He couldn’t comprehend the situation, not a bit. He wanted to pull at his hair and scream but at the same time he wanted to just weep in a corner.

Some point in the night Jiyong snuggled into his arms, softly shuffling until he found a comfortable spot and settled down. The situation so familiar that it