“So?  How did it go?”

Daesung looked into his leader’s eyes and couldn’t even summon the strength to begin.  He felt emotionally drained and exhausted, having spent the past two hours listening to Amina sob on and off as she explained her past transgressions against her family, mourn the time she wasn’t able to be with her father during his illness, and watched as she painfully cloaked herself in her parent’s disdain and disappointment.  While sitting there, Daesung knew there were moments when she couldn’t even see him – so lost in her own dark world. 

“I think it went… okay,” Daesung trailed off bleakly, his eyes still haunted.

Jiyong grabbed Daesung by the shoulder and peered into his downcast face.  “Be honest.”

Daesung couldn’t shake off the piercing gaze.  “She needs help.”

Jiyong cursed under his breath and looked away.  He let go of Daesung and started pacing, placing his hand on the back of his neck and massaging the kinks away.  “Then we need to get her help.”

“She’s not going to go, hyung,” argued Daesung.  “It took a bit for her to even open up to me.  And I think she only did it because I told her I wouldn’t tell Youngbae hyung.”  Jiyong snapped his head back at that.  “Neh… she doesn’t want him to know.”

“Yeah… ‘Cause that might actually involve sharing their feelings with each other,” Jiyong sarcastically scoffed, mildly irritated at those two.  If it wasn’t one thing… it was another. 

“Do you think we should say something to him?”

“’We’?  What do you mean ‘we’?”  Jiyong grinned.  “You mean ‘you’?  Because you’re the one that’s going to keep going over there.”

“Me?”  Daesung’s eyes widen with fear.  “I’m never made plans to go back over there.”

“Mwuh?  Why not!”  Jiyong’s eyebrows knitted together.  “How’d you end it with her then?”

Daesung hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal.  The conversations Amina shared with him were supposed to be private, but he only promised that he wouldn’t say anything to Youngbae… not Jiyong.  “Well… she was talking about the funeral.  And then she started crying.”  He broke off.

“And?” Jiyong pressed, his patience tested.

“And for the last thirty minutes, she cried.  She just… cried.”  Daesung shamefully turned his head away, unable to continue.

Jiyong cursed… again.

“She fell asleep on the couch, so I just grabbed a blanket and covered her before leaving.”  Daesung bit his inner lip and waited for his leader’s orders.

“You have to go back.”

“Uh…” Daesung wavered.

“You don’t want to go back?” Jiyong pressed.

“It’s not that,” Daesung explained, his eyes full of sorrow.  He turned the other way to collect his thoughts.

“Then, what is it?”

How could he begin to explain?  How would it make sense to someone who had never experienced the deep loneliness and despair that he felt?  The black bottomless pit of desolation that came with guilt?  Daesung turned around to face Jiyong.  “She scares me,” he admitted.

Jiyong raised his brow.

“Sometimes when she’s talking,” Daesung’s eyes became unfocused.  “I can feel myself being pulled under again.  I can feel my energy draining with her every word.”  He remorsefully continued, hating his weakness inside.  “I don’t think I’m strong enough for this.”

They watched as a scurry of crewmen and lighting technicians hurried by.  Through the throng of people, Youngbae emerged with Ji Eun close behind, putting on the final touches for his MV costume.  He spotted them immediately and signaled his hand in greeting, his smile warm.  He started heading in their direction.

Jiyong turned to Daesung, a determined glint in his eyes.  “Well you’re going to have to be.  For him.  Arasso?”

Daesung swallowed hard, feeling his willpower give way.  “Arasso.”

Damn.  He was late.  He’d never hear the end of it.

Seungri rapidly tapped his sunshades against his leg as he waited for the elevator to descend to the first floor.  It stopped on four.  He mentally cursed… in Japanese. 

The gods must have decided to torment him further, because the woman of his dreams shuffled into the lift.  Her head was bowed over a notebook, her purse and jacket piled loosely over her arm.  She didn’t even seem to notice him.  He immediately took offense.

“Annyeonghasaeyo,” Seungri pointedly called from the back of the elevator.

Yuri jerked her head up, taken back by surprise.  She looked over her shoulder and tilted her head at him.  “Annyeonghasaeyo…” Her voice was more deep and sultry than usual, the emotions still affecting her from yesterday’s confrontation with Amina.

He could tell that her eyes were red-rimmed, her face blotchy from crying.  He became alarmed.  “Yuri-yah…Are you okay?”

“Ah,” Yuri turned away and bowed her head self-consciously.  “Neh.  Gwenchansumnida.”

Seungri stepped forward and lightly touched her upper arm.  She looked up and he felt himself drown in the pools of her dark liquid eyes.  “I… um,” he stammered.  Then blushed.  “Are you sure?  It doesn’t look like you’re okay.”

Yuri sniffed in an unladylike manner.  “Only you would point out something so obvious.”

“Neh,” he smiled.  “It’s one of my specialties.”  His eyes quietly roamed her face, wanting to wipe the sadness away.  In a serious tone, he asked, “Is it a boyfriend?  Do you need me to beat him up?”

That did it.  Her lips curved up a little.  “Boyfriend?  Ani… there’s no boyfriend.”

“No boyfriend?”  Seungri repeated reverently, his eyes lighting up. 

She shook her head and smiled at his boyish grin.

The elevator reached their destination and opened.  With their eyes still locked on one another, they slowly made their way out into the hallway. 

“Then why is my Yuri-chan sad?”  His eyebrows furrowed together with concern.

Her heart pitter-pattered.  “I…” Yuri looked away and let out a heart-felt sigh, her well-endowed chest rising and falling hypnotically under Seungri’s wide-eyed gaze.  She turned back and looked woefully at him.  “Have you ever regretted something you did?  Wish you could take it all back?”

“All the time,” he frankly admitted.

“Mwuh?!” Yuri exclaimed, uncertain she heard him correctly.

He grinned.  “Neh…”  He didn’t even look apologetic.  “It just happens sometimes… but I try not to dwell on it.  Just apologize and move on.”

“That’s it?”

He back-tracked.  “I mean… there were some instances where I took a couple of days to reflect on my actions, but I always felt better after I apologized for it.  Or after I talked about it with someone.”  He gave her an encouraging smile.  “Life’s too short to burden yourself with guilt.”

Yuri nodded, contemplating his words.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he politely inquired.

“Ani,” she vehemently protested, her face turning red. 

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed.

“Mianhae. It’s just… something I said in a moment of anger,” Yuri broke off and looked away, still mad at herself.

He nodded in understanding.  “I’m sure that other person understands it was anger that was speaking and not the real Yuri-yah.”       

“You think?” she looked hopefully up at him.

Seungri smiled down into her face.  “Neh… A sweet girl like you could never hurt anyone.”

She blushed becomingly, her eyes melting into his.

His swayed towards her, his face lowering.

“Seungri.”

They broke apart.

Seungri bowed deeply, his face turning red.  “Annyeonghasaeyo sajangnim.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on the set of Youngbae-sshi’s music video shoot this afternoon?” asked Mr. YG.

“Yeh,” Seungri bowed again, suddenly nervous.

“Come upstairs,” Mr. YG ordered, not glancing back to see if Seungri acknowledged his command as he headed towards the elevators. 

Yuri gave Seungri an apologetic wince.

Seungri shot her a hesitant smile and left, following his boss.  Seungri stepped inside the lift and planted an innocent look on his face, tucking both hands behind his back in a nonchalant pose.  He felt the urge to whistle, but his mouth became suddenly dry.  Seungri mentally shook off his nerves.  He didn’t do anything wrong, so he had nothing to hide. Yeah… he kept telling himself that.  All the way up to the sixth floor.

Seungri sat down in his favorite seat, the one directly across from Mr. YG.  That’s what he called it.  It was the only way he could relax in the massive airy white office.  He waited for Yang sajangnim to begin.

“I just came from the shoot,” Mr. YG explained.  “Looks like things are going well… Looks like they aren’t missing your help.”

Seungri’s ears burned.

“I can’t help but notice, however, a little tension between Jiyongie and Youngbae-yah.”  He steepled his fingers together near his mouth and contemplated, his eyes intense as they glared at Seungri.  “Any reason why this may be Seungri-sshi?”

“Ah… I don’t know, sajangnim.” Seungri half-bowed in his seat.  “I’m not sure exactly what’s going on between the two.  I hear they are best friends.”  He smiled brightly.

“One would think…” Mr. YG nodded.  “Except that, unlike the usual banter I see between the two, they were a bit more reserved towards one another today.  Polite, even.  Business-like.”  He sighed and settled back in his swivel chair.  “Normally I wouldn’t care… we fight like family from time to time, but with Youngbae’s album coming out, I need to make sure there isn’t anything I haven’t been aware of.”

Seungri remained mute.

“You’re awfully quiet for someone who normally talks a lot,” he nasally taunted.

A red hue crept up Seungri’s cheek.

“Surely you know… something.”

He bit his tongue.

Mr. YG let out a dismal sigh and stacked his hands behind the back of his neck.  He leaned back, looking around his spacious modern-clad office. He paused dramatically before beginning.

“You know, confession usually causes the punishment to be less severe.”

Seungri could feel his palms dampen, the crevice between his armpits itch as it started sweating bullets. He swallowed hard.

“Eventually… I will find out.”

“Ah,” Seungri gave his most winsome smile.  “I wish I could help, but I really don’t know what’s going on between my hyungs.”

Mr. YG nodded and straightened in his chair.  He returned to his computer and dismissed Seungri from his thoughts as he powered it up.  “It’s a shame… to let something like this come in-between them. Neh… this could be the end of Big Bang as we know it.”

“Mwuh?!”

“Mwuh?” Mr. YG looked back at Seungri innocently.  “Do you think we can carry on with just a four member group?  Hmm… ottoke?”  He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his eyes far away.  “What do you think Seungri?  Who should we let go?”

Seungri’s eyes widened, his heart beating rapidly.  “Ah…” He laughed nervously, panic settling in. “I don’t think there’s a need for that, sajangnim.  I’m sure Jiyong hyung and Youngbae hyung will work things out.”

“It seems serious, so maybe not.  I need to be prepared,” Mr. YG replied.  “Neh… Maybe I should make Youngbae’s upcoming promotions signal his last year with Big Bang.”  He nodded his head, his brow furrowed together.  “Or maybe I should just let him go completely after this album is over.”

“Hajimayo!” Seungri exclaimed as he shot up from his chair.  Sudden thoughts of the baby and Amina ran through his mind.  He pictured them sitting on the streets, with soot covered faces and raggedy clothes on.  He blinked his eyes to clear the images.

“Mwuh?”  Mr. YG asked nonchalantly.  “You prefer we let go of Jiyong-sshi?”

Seungri mulled over the thought.  He knew his hyung made way more than Youngbae and could probably withstand the loss temporarily.  But then again… Jiyong was their leader.  Aigoo… Seungri scratched the back of his head nervously and gave a weak smile.  “We don’t need to do anything drastic now, do we?  I mean, whatever they’re going through should die over soon.”

“I don’t know… you tell me.”

Seungri stared wide-eyed into his sajangnim’s eyes and knew he meant business.  He started pacing in front of the desk, his mind going over how much he could divulge that would allow him to keep his manly parts.  He let out a deep sigh and turned to face his boss.

“It’s… it’s really not place to say, sir.”  Diplomatic.  Nice one!  He thought to himself.

“Spill it!”

Seungri flinched.  He felt blood rush to his cheeks and knew guilt was written all over his face.  There was no way he’d get out of here alive without telling the truth.  He prayed his hyung would forgive him.  He lowered his head.

“Ah… well.  Eun Amina noona… Do you know her?”

“I’ve heard of her.  Youngbae-yah’s ex-girlfriend?”

“Umm… I think she’s his girlfriend, but you could be right.  She could be his ex-girlfriend now…”  Seungri lowered his head once more, missing the confused expression on Yang Hyun Suk’s face.  “Well… she’s, uh…” he mumbled.

“Seungri!”

His head snapped up.

“Please tell me she isn’t with Jiyong now.”

“Aniyo!”  Seungri’s eyes bugged out.  “Aniyo!” he repeated, his face full of disgust… like he had eaten spoiled kimchi.

Mr. YG’s shoulder’s slumped in relief, the worry in his eyes lifting.  He nodded and waited for Seungri to proceed.  “Well, that’s good to know.  I thought it might be the reason for the tension between the two.”

“Oh… aniyo,” replied Seungri.  “Although, I think Youngbae hyung might have thought that as well at one point in time.”

“Huh?”

Seungri shook his head in dismissal.  “It’s complicated.  Even I don’t understand all the details.”  He smiled depreciatively and bowed deeply.  “That’s all I really know, hyung.”  He started inching his way backwards towards the door.

“Yah!”

Seungri froze, the smile on his face stiff.

“You were saying… about Eun Amina?”  Mr. YG’s brows rose.

God, where was his water?  Didn’t he usually get served a glass of water each time he “visited”?  His throat felt painfully dry.  Seungri swallowed an invisible lump and nearly choked on the muscle contraction.  “Ah… neh.  How could I forget?”  He let out a nervous giggle.  He tugged on the collar of his shirt, suddenly unable to breathe.  “Umm… well…”

“Seungri… I have another meeting to attend to shortly.  Just say it.  Is she sick?  Or causing issues for our company?  If so, I can get our lawyers to-“

“She’s pregnant,” he blurted.

His sajangnim froze, his eyes turning steely.  “Youngbae’s?”

“N-neh,” Seungri’s voice shook.

“Take a seat, Seungri,” Mr. YG bit out, as he jerked his hand sharply across the seat in front of him.  He turned his head towards the computer and fired away, tapping hard on the keyboard.

Holy .

The next day…

The fluorescent light inside the small exam room cast an awful green glow on her creamy ivory skin.  Amina sat nervously on the examination table and tried her hardest to not move too much on the protective crepe paper.  Usually she was on the other end of the role, taking down blood pressure results and asking pre-screening questions before the doctor came in.  She would never get used to being a patient.

She was in for her second visit with Dr. Jang.  Today, she was finally going to get to hear her baby’s heartbeat and get measured.  With so many personal things that she was dealing with this past month, Amina hoped that everything with their baby was on target and normal.

If there were issues or complications, Amina kn