The flight to New York was excruciating. Not just because it was about 14 hours long, but due to the damn cold I had caught in Korea. Trying to sleep on a plane is already hard enough as it is; the fever and runny nose weren't helping me at all.  

     It was February 9th, and we had just announced our world tour two days ago. I thought it was absurd at first; did we really have fans all around the world? Our lyrics were mostly Korean or Japanese, and yet we'd receive fan mail written in all sorts of languages. Nonetheless, we did indeed have a crowd of American fans to greet us at the airport. The medicine I had taken may have made me delirious. There were girls actually calling my name even as I was the last member to exit the terminal. I was hearing "Seungri" and "panda" in English. Seunghyun and Jiyong were easily the most popular, but they knew all our names. It was astounding, and to think these same people could see us again on tour was incredibly uplifting. But for now, I was just too miserable to provide any fan service. I hoped our hotel beds wouldn't be too hard or overly soft. Proper sleep was all I could think about.  

--------------  

     I woke up the faint smell of cigarettes and low murmurs. Disoriented, I couldn't tell if it was late at night or early morning. The glass door to the suite's balcony was open, and I realized Jiyong was out there, talking on his phone.  

"Yeah, he's going to have to wake up soon," he spoke, pausing to take a deep inhale of his cigarette. "I need to clean that ear again, and he's due for another dose."

     A few more words were said, but I couldn't catch them because I was already drifting back to sleep. It had been awhile since I had last heard his low, professional voice. I forgot how soothing it could be. I didn't even notice when the call ended or when the balcony door closed, or even when his light footsteps made their way to the edge of my bed.

I felt the back of his hand on my forehead, checking my fever. He slid the hand down to rub his thumb across my cheek.

"Seungriyah," he spoke, and my eyes fluttered open. "The noonas will be here in half an hour for makeup."

     I let out a groan which I didn't mean for him to hear. Having him worry over me was everything I didn't want. His sighs were heavy, his breath smelling of a mixture of nicotine and mint.

"You have to sit up," he crooned, and I obliged, pulling myself up to lean against the bed's solid headboard. The next few minutes consisted of pulling myself together with meds and tissues while Jiyong hastily applied q-tips to my ear. Apparently we were running late, and Jiyong received another phone call, announcing he had to leave to take a shower before the noonas came. It turned out that Youngbae was the person he had been talking to. I wasn't surprised.

     New York was beyond cold, and Jiyong was basically in G-Dragon mode for the rest of the trip as we spent our days filming MVs and our nights merely trying to sleep. But every now and then, he'd slip back as Jiyong to goof off with us in the streets. Even as Jiyong though, I knew he was tired and stressed, not quite himself. I lied a bit about feeling more healthy when he asked. Youngbae had told me to be careful, and of course I was on my best behavior. I was brought up in their phone conversations more than once, apparently.

     After an uneventful flight back to Seoul, we went straight back to work with teasers and meetings for the album and rehearsals for our annual Big Show, this time giving it the world tour flair. The new staff we had hired worked overtime and for many hours, even forgetting to take a lunch break sometimes. They'd laugh at me and pat my back when I would try to tell them to eat in English. "He's a cutie," Laurieann would say. Bennie, the drummer, let me play around with his old drumsticks. I had a lot of fun.

      Jiyong appeared to be having fun on his own, chatting with the musicians or Youngbae. Every once in awhile, he'd look my way to see if I was nearby and throw me a quick glance, neither with a smile or glare. He was just neutral, but it was his way of saying that now just wasn't the time.

      I realized that the way he treated me, the way we were, had always been like this. Jiyong had his phases. Sometimes we were opposite ends of a magnet, attracting and attatching to no end, and then there were phases of retraction, pulling away, farther and farther until finally, something would happen to push us back together again. It was indescribable, and I never knew what it really ever was that kept us in this pattern.

     Maybe I just really annoyed him. Maybe I was too worrisome, and all that worry on him was never a good thing, so he had developed a way of slowly peeling himself off of me. Or maybe I was just never going to be his number one person, maybe there were other people he preferred to spend his time with. He had a variety of good noona friends, and of course there would always be Youngbae. Jiyong was even having more phases involving Daesung lately. The scandals must have brought them closer, I noted. Daesung and I were certainly still a little awkward around each other, I wouldn't know. It was never me that he confided in.

     Either way, I let Jiyong be and tried not to expect too much from him, as he had asked. But why was it that when I wanted him most, wanted him closer,  I couldn't have him?

----

     Our mini-album was released on the 29th, easily thrashing its way up to the roof of the online music charts. All of us were already up and awake at midnight anyway since we were at the studio, so we figured why not buy a few snacks and read aloud everyone's live reactions? The VIP fanclub was always supportive, sweet with their words. Surely it wouldn't take long for the music critics to express their opinions, and netizens were already going mad. After spending a good hour poking fun at people, we ended our break to get back to our meetings.

"Something's bothering you, maknae"

     Out of the blue, Youngbae had found me outside the first floor's main hallway leaving the restrooms. Our group meeting had just ended, and I had drunk too much water.

"Its nothing you can fix, hyung," I told him bluntly, staring at the tiled floor. I wasn't going to lie.

"Is it Jiyong?"

"Who else would it be," I replied dryly.

Youngbae nodded, pinching at my shoulders to loosen me up. I squirmed around, unsure of what to do.

"You know," he started, "Jiyong worries."

"I know he does, hyung," I sighed. Sometimes I could read Youngbae like a book, and other times, I couldn't. He wanted to tell me something, but what it was, I didn't know.

"I know all too well that I make him worry," I repeated. "I don't like it when he's like this."

"I don't either, you know," Youngbae spoke. "None of us do."

"Its like he just turns himself off and its work, work, work. I get it, he doesn't need me added to his list of stress."

Youngbae offered me a half-smile and pat my shoulder again.

"Even so, he still talks to you. Sometimes, you just have to be grateful that he doesn't leave. He may make himself distant, he does it with me too, but at least he doesn't completely sever the tie, right?"

I slowly nodded, replaying in my head the small conversations we had in the morning.

"He'll come around again," he reassured. "For what its worth, he tells me he misses you when we talk at night."

"I'm right here," I rolled my eyes.

"Good. Don't ever think you have to leave, okay? Just wait for him," he said softly.

"Ne, hyung," I sighed, one last time. It was nearing two in the morning and we were finally being called to the van to take us back to the dorm. The tiredness was starting to get to me, and I quietly pondered if Jiyong's usual promotion insomnia would start soon, if it wasn't already happening. The low hum of the van's engine from outside sounded like the perfect siren to be entranced by, and off I went, side by side with Youngbae, as we made our way back.