Jiyong smirked and stalked past him towards Chaerin to discuss the script. Seungri, scratching his head, silently followed the others as they made for the toilet to change.

“This is absolutely ridiculous,” Daesung complained to Chaerin, who was helping him adjust his wig. “It itches like mad!”

She giggled. “But you really do look like an ahjumma! And that’s all that matters.” He still looked skeptical, so she added, “Believe me, soon you’ll be having so much fun, you’ll forget all about the itchiness!”

Sighing, he took a tentative step towards Seunghyun. With his heels and long skirt, his stride was greatly limited, and the strain of walking showed on his face. His already-small eyes narrowed even more, but he tried to force a smile. Soon he had both boy and girl on the floor with tears of laughter at his expense. The blood flowed to his face, and he cursed as he finally reached the piano stool. As he sank down gratefully onto it, he aimed a kick at the eldest, who dodged.

“This dratted thing is so uncomfortable,” he muttered darkly, tugging at his skirt.

The Maestro wiped the tears from his eyes. “Sorry for laughing at you, dear ahjumma,” he apologized, earning himself a slap from his friend.

Just then, Taeyang shuffled into the room, dragging his feet on the floor. Chaerin looked impressed, and she immediately complimented him on his acting skills. He smiled, and as he caught sight of Daesung, it widened into a grin.

“Are those as torturous as girls claim they are?” he questioned, motioning towards the heels.

“I’ll throw them at you, and you can tell me the answer,” Daesung replied.

Taeyang chuckled.

The door creaked open, and Jiyong stood up, frowning. “That’ll be Seungri.”

Into the studio walked a girl of average height, her shoulder-length hair neatly combed so that bangs framed her face. She was wearing a white turtleneck with a pink tutu over it. The white tights she was wearing clung tightly to the shape of her legs – too thick to be a girl’s…

“HAH, SEUNGRI!” Daesung exclaimed, a smile gracing his face for the first time since he put on the heels.

Taeyang fell backwards off the stool. Daesung and Seunghyun were holding each other and laughing, and even Chaerin was bent double. Only Jiyong remained impassive, his eyes staring past his friend. Seungri, trying to act nonchalant, walked straight towards the only real female in the room, mimicking her graceful steps. It was obvious that his tutu was bothering him, but he didn’t stop moving until he was face-to-face with Chaerin, who had calmed down enough by that time that she was able to look him straight in the eyes.

“Yes, Seungri?”

“I’m ready for filming,” Seungri said, twirling a lock of hair around his forefinger and talking in a high-pitched voice. He fluttered his eyelashes.

Jiyong jumped up. “Since I won’t be here for the first scene, I’ll be helping Chaerin film. So, you guys have at least read the script, right?”

All four members murmured agreement, even the troublesome Seungri. “What dances are we going to do, though?” he asked.

Jiyong shrugged. “You guys – with the exception of TOP-hyung – know how to dance decently, so I’m sure you can do something that fits in with your character.”

Seunghyun pouted, stung. “It’s not exactly my fault that I’m tall and awkward.”

Daesung moved over, reaching a hand out to pat his head while smiling like a kindly old woman. “Don’t worry, young man. You’ll be able to do it if you practice more!”

 Chaerin’s eyes disappeared into crescents as she smiled. “Big Bang as the cast of Beethoven’s Virus,” she muttered to herself. “This, I have got to see.”

Filming took up the entire day – Big Bang fooled around so much that most of the material was unusable. Appearances were made by a couple of YG managers – who were featured with Seungri – as well as, surprisingly, Yang Hyunsuk himself. He had a long, hearty laugh at Daesung and Seungri, both of whom were having way too much fun in the making of the parody. The Head of YG was so amused with the band that he granted them permission to use his own picture in the parody too. They put it to good use.

The only one who seemed aloof was Jiyong. When it was his turn to act, he did his job, but he didn’t participate in the fun. Seunghyun noticed, but chose not to say anything just yet.

“Let’s break for dinner,” Chaerin finally said, as Seungri’s stomach grumbled audibly for the third time that day.

“Food!” he yelled, pelting out of the room and down the stairs in his tutu. The rest of the band and the girl followed at a more sedate pace.

Seunghyun looked lost in thought. “Do you remember what Mr. Yang was saying earlier?”

“About the theft of the jewels?” That was Daesung.

“Yeah, that.”

“What about it?” Chaerin asked, folding her video camera and slipping it into the bag she had slung about her shoulders.

“I just thought, that thief must have some guts, to snatch the bag out from the home of the richest man that lives in this area. Not to mention that it’s Jiyong’s father who was robbed.”

She gasped. “Ji-oppa, those were your father’s jewels?!”

Jiyong smiled sadly. “Yes, it was. He’ll be devastated to know that it was stolen. Even though he increased security while the jewels were there, it just disappeared!”

“That’s terrible! But how come he had it in the house? Isn’t it safer to keep it in a deposit box or something?”

The short boy nodded. “It’s in the house because he’s got to transfer it from one bank to another. It was only meant to be in the house for two nights, maximum, and it was top-secret, but obviously someone knew enough to steal it.”

Seunghyun was studying the younger boy. “No wonder you were so distracted today.”

Jiyong pursed his lips, staring at his feet as he walked down the stairs. “It’s his jewels, and honestly I don’t place much value on material things.”

Taeyang grinned at that. “You? You, the one we secretly call the Magpie – because you love collecting things – you say you don’t place much value on material things?”

Daesung pitched in. “Maybe he thinks we don’t place much value on things either, which is why he takes them and stuffs them in his secret corner!”

“I don’t take anything that’s important to you,” Jiyong injected, looking harried. “I take stuff that I don’t ever see you use!”

“Like my CD?” Seunghyun asked pointedly.

“The cap I got in Sydney?” Taeyang suggested.

“Will you take these heels from me so I can rest in peace forever?”

“Whoa, whoa,” Chaerin exclaimed, smiling. “GD, how many things have you got down in your secret lair?”

He scratches his head under the barrage of questions. “Your smelly heels will stink up the entire place, Daesung! And, um, a few…”

“More like ten thousand,” Taeyang said.

By this time, they had reached the front doors of the YG building. Across the street, they could see Seungri waving at them, motioning towards a table for six, which he had found. As the main group reached the table, he took off again towards the counter to order his food. Shaking her head, Chaerin sat herself down on a chair and told the others to go buy their food, while she held the table.

Pretty soon, they were all back at the table with their food, and they devoted their attention to filling their stomachs. After dinner, they walked to the back of the YG building, where there was a door that led to the dumpster and an alley. There, they filmed the scene in which Jiyong’s character was introduced.

Fifteen minutes later, Chaerin clicked her camera closed again, and the boys bid her goodbye. On the way back to the dorm, their talk ce again to the subject of the theft.

“Why do you think the thief stole the jewels?” Seungri asked, rubbing the dark circles under his eyes.

The other four just stared at him.

He looked up and caught them, turning red as a result. “I just realized that it was a stupid question. Forget I ever asked.”

Taeyang grinned. “You seem to be too sleepy!”

“But I wonder where he is now,” Seunghyun muttered as they opened the door to their dorm.

“I don’t know, but I think that’s a question we should sleep on,” Jiyong responded, stretching and yawning. “Right now, I’m going to sleep.”

“Me too,” Seungri agreed.

Both of them disappeared into their shared bedroom. The remaining three greeted each other before going to bed as well. Before slipping into bed, Seunghyun suddenly remembered Jiyong’s earlier remark.

It’s his jewels, and honestly I don’t place much value on material things.

Before he could think more on it, he fell asleep.

A shadow travelled along the wall, grossly misshapen and swollen out of proportion. It crept up to the corner, before crossing the boundary and slipping along the other wall, and eventually sneaking through the crack between the wall and  A  the door. Outside, a figure walked briskly, his eyes adjusting rapidly to the darkness. Although his vision was limited, he was tracing a familiar path, and so his steps were quick and sure; he travelled with confidence.

Ten feet on, he made a sharp left and disappeared down the stairs, his rubber-soled shoes making barely any sound against the smooth parquet of the floor. He flew down six flights of steps, and eventually he reached the lowest level. Sweeping the area with his gaze, he found a corridor towards his right, and he turned himself in that direction.

As he reached the end of the hallway, he reached out for the doorknob and, feeling it, pulled open the door. It swung open easily and noiselessly, and light from outside the building streamed in, filling the corridor for a split second. If anyone had walked into the corridor at that moment, they would have seen an unrecognizable silhouette slip into the night.

He dashed through the alleyways, making for the Han River. It was a long distance away, but he took it at a quick pace, reaching the bridge within half an hour. As he crossed it, the water winked at him, reflecting the moonlight. Lengthening his stride, he made a right turn down the pavement and walked parallel to the river for a few blocks. He turned off when he passed the derelict building that used to be his favourite hangout.

Smiling as his inner eye flooded with old memories, he made his way towards the small shed, partially buried under rubble. Years ago, an earthquake had shaken these parts, causing chunks of the building to collapse – which fell directly onto the garden shed. He had been in the shed at the time, bruised and hiding from the boy who used to bully him. The shed had been entirely buried under the broken walls of the building, but he was unharmed. Since then, he had felt a special affinity to this place, a shed that had protected him not only from a bully, but also from death.

It was here that he hid his stash.

Stooping, he pushed aside some of the rubble and lifted the latch of the window, before climbing in. He turned head over heels, his feet eventually touching the ground as his muscles tensed to hold himself up. Relaxing, he let go of the window ledge and moved over towards the opposite wall of the shed, which was buried under yet more fallen plaster and wood.

Scanning the pile, his gaze alit on a bright blue patch of plastic in the far right. He reached out and pulled it as hard as he could – as he did so, the rubble rolled off to reveal a cornucopia of things.

Cards, souvenirs, scarves, pictures, CDs, figures, ornaments, some coins – things that sparkled, looked pretty, or which held special meaning. He took things he liked; if it caught his eye, it pretty much ended up here. It was a compulsive thing, and he didn’t have the power to resist the urge to take things from people. He “found” things and kept them.

It was to this treasure hoard that he was going to add his latest collection – the jewels. A faint smile graced his features as he looked at them in their little pouch. They caught the last rays of moonlight and reflected it around the room, casting rainbows on the plain wooden walls – the four that remained; the ceiling had been destroyed in the quake. Some were shaped beautifully, and some were uncut and raw, yet still wonderful to look at.

He smirked as he tugged the drawstrings closed. Stepping forward, he placed the bag among the other treasures in his hoard and stood back to admire his handiwork. He glanced at his watch, his eyes widening as he took in the time. He needed to get back soon. Once again picking up the blue plastic strip, he tugged the sheet over his treasure and meticulously rearranged bits of wood and broken concrete over the sheet such that the precious things underneath would not get damaged.

Straightening, he slipped out of the shed and retraced his steps. The moon hung low in the sky, and his shadow lengthened in pursuit of him. While walking, he considered the consequences of his actions. It was not the first time that he had picked up something so valuable - however the owner of these jewels posed a greater threat to him than those of his previous victims.

It gave him a sense of satisfaction, though, to know that the person he had filched the jewels from would be devastated by the theft. Although it would be far more damning if they knew the identity of the thief. As he raised his face to the disappearing moon, his lips curved upwards.

Only the moon had witnessed Jiyong’s secret.