Rating: PG-13
Genre:Angst, misleading fluff
Summary: Jiyong breaks into SeungRi's house.
AN: Yet another G-Ri fic, this one is based on a prompt, "A house that burns down." Again, I took the prompt and I twisted it. I should maybe write some fluff....
 

I had a house.

It was really small. Really small. But there were lots of rooms. Lots of ‘em. None of them were empty, either. They all held something, something I can’t live without. That’s why they were there in the first place.

There was a room on the first floor; it was a pretty special room. It was locked most of the time though; it was something I don’t want anyone to see. Partly because I’d feel really embarrassed if anyone knew what was in there, partly because... well, because they’re my goals. My hopes and my dreams. Those are private; they’re something that gives me something to live for. Be more charismatic like TOP. Dance better like YoungBae. Sing stronger like DaeSung. Be someone that doesn’t have to strive to be someone else. Be somebody more than just that kid from the country. Be someone who doesn’t have to prove themselves every single day, that doesn’t have to impress anybody else, and that sings songs because they feel something.

I made a mistake once. I forgot to lock that door, forgot to close it shut.  That’s when JiYong found it. And that’s when he got in. And that’s when he started taking those dreams, taking those hopes, taking those goals, he took them. He took them and helped me be that person.

If you looked around the corner, you’d see a large, vast room with a really tall ceiling. That’s where SeungRi’s confidence lives. That’s not much of a surprise, right? Sure, it’s annoying, somewhat egotistical and quite swollen, but really, without it, SeungHyun would have landed on the floor and never bounced back up. It’s what gave SeungHyun that “forget-me-not” quality that made others see something different from the norm. However, if you looked next-door, there’s this tiny little broom closet where SeungHyun's confidence lives. Different, right? SeungHyun's confidence is a lot smaller, a lot less visible, a lot more hidden, and a lot more vulnerable. SeungHyun’s confidence breaks down a little with every criticism, with every hateful message, with every mistake.

JiYong decided he was “Mr. Handyman”. Do you know what he did? He knocked down the wall dividing the two rooms and made SeungHyun’s room a lot bigger. He took a bunch of foam padding and lined the walls. JiYong changed the walls to glass; clear, transparent glass.

Upstairs, there’s a room that was painted black. There’s no windows, no lamps, no light that ever comes into that room. That’s my secret room. Well, the room itself isn’t a secret. It’s the things inside that are secret. My secrets. I’m not actually a cute, adorable maknae; it’s really just a front. I hate being last; forever last, getting whatever no one else wants. I love somebody I’m not supposed to love. I love Kwon JiYong.

One time, someone brought light into my secret room. Of course, it was JiYong, sneaking around as always. When I found out that he knew all my secrets, I was terrified. Terrified that JiYong would tell, terrified that he would think less of me, and of course, terrified about the fact that he knew that I loved him. But JiYong promised never to tell. JiYong swore he looked up to me. And JiYong confessed that he loved me, too.

Right across the hall from the secret room, there’s a room that’s titanium plated, a room with padlocks and chains and laser sensors. Those locks never open. They’re built that way, so no one can come in. Because inside, all my fears live. All my anxieties, all my cowardly thoughts, they’re all huddled in that room, too scared to come out and face the world. I’m not enough for BIGBANG. HyunSeung deserved this. I’m nothing. JiYong. These fears, these asinine doubts, they plague the house; they cast a dark shadow over the whole building, creeping behind every move, every decision, every word I say.

In response to this, JiYong took a bulldozer, that’s right, a bulldozer. He took a bulldozer and ran the wall down, releasing my fears to the world, stripping them raw and and ing them under the searing scrutiny of a million people I’ll never know. Now that room is empty, destroyed. No more fear lives there.

Lastly, there’s the room that sits right in the middle of the whole house. Literally. It’s situated right in between the first and second floor. This room is the most special of them all, the most unique, the most cherished. This room contains my love, my vulnerability, my strengths, my weaknesses. Anyone I have ever loved has their own special compartment in that room. Every little detail, every little quality, everything that makes me me is in that room.

And this is the room that JiYong was welcomed into. And JiYong took the hand of every single person in that room and accepted them all, loved them all.

You must think that I’m on top of the world, don’t you? Well, I was. Until someone decided to knock me down.

JiYong, the JiYong, the one that saved me, made me, created me, discovered me. Heartbreak does strange things to a person.

The first thing to go was the front door, a pretty little white door that didn’t stand a chance against his sledgehammer. The door was blown inwards, pieces of wood littering the floor, stuck on the walls. JiYong took no notice of this as he moved past various rooms, holding a red canister in his hand, pouring something on any surface that he met.

He walked past door after door before stopping at one, a door that I once forgot to lock. This door was knocked down, blown apart, and JiYong walked in. That’s when he started yelling, yelling at me, yelling at the walls, yelling at my hopes and dreams.

“You’ll never be as good as anybody else! You’ll always be the worst, the weakest link, there’s nothing special about you!” And all of a sudden, I was terminated, jobless, and out onto the streets, no explanations, no sympathies, and no goodbyes. That room was now coated with the same substance that layered the other rooms.

His next set destinations were the two rooms that held the different parts of me. He paid no attention to the room that held SeungRi’s confidence; instead, he focused on Lee SeungHyun’s confidence. Those glass walls that he put up, those were shattered; every single wall came crashing down. That padding he installed was all ripped down, ripped with vicious, clawed hands, strip by strip. This room, too, was covered with the liquid that never seemed to run out from his red canister. That was the first time I cried, the first time that I cried since JiYong.

JiYong made his way up the stairs, his fury and anger never cooling; it seemed to propel him even further on his rampage of destruction. He headed straight towards the black room, my secret room and opened the door as wide as it could, shedding light on all of secrets hidden within its black walls. With that one single move, the world as a whole moved together, where sympathetic fans and supporters all turned, he could only see their backs facing me now. The room gleamed dully as the light was reflected on the...kerosene?

JiYong almost walked past my security room, thinking that it had long ago been emptied out, but his sharp, meticulous eyes missed nothing. And what he saw put a vicious sneer on his face when he realized that that empty room had been filled, filled secretly with thoughts of him. JiYong took this opportunity to break open the door, but this time he didn’t share them with the world. Instead he stole them, took them, and used them, torturing me with them at every turn. It didn’t help that all those fears were about him anyway, he just turned all my fears into a reality.

And finally, finally, JiYong finds himself at the door of my last room, my most precious room. At this point, I’m so weak I can hardly stand but I must protect it, I must protect my room. With my body thrown against the wall, arms spread wide, I watched him come closer, wielding a razor sharp machete in both hands. I could hear the blood pumping in my ears as he approached me, a little smirk playing on his face.

“Well now, SeungHyun. What are you doing here?” he whispered, his throat raw and husky.

“Please. Please, JiYong. No more, please. Stop, please... PLEASE, JiYong!” I shrieked this as he disregarded my words, raising his arm. He brought it down on me and I felt his blade slice through me, and a feeling of electrified pain jolted through me. Adrenaline couldn’t help me now. As I lay below him, expecting to die at his feet, I realized that he hadn’t delivered a death blow. He wanted me conscious to see him in his last act of revenge.

And as I lay there, I watched him turn the knob. He kept the door wide open, so I could watch him. And I did. I watched kill every single person I have ever loved, every breathing creature in that room. Soon, the once cheery pink and yellow room had been changed into red, a dark, brownish red colour that stained every surface.

And lastly, with a blood streaked and tearstained face, he turned to me. He looked at me as he walked to me. I lay immobile as he poured some of that liquid all over me. He returned back into the center of my room and ended this war between us. Without a regretful hesitation, he dumped the rest of the container’s contents on himself and lit a match. He went up immediately in flames, with me soon after.

We burned together, Kwon JiYong and Lee Seunghyun. We burned together in my little house and watched as everything turned black, red, and gray. We were there until the last brick disintegrated, until we were burning alone atop a pile of ashes that used to be me. And that’s when he took my hand and I held on to his, and we closed our eyes for the last time.

And that’s the story of the little house that held me that lived within the depths of my unbeating heart.