The problem with being friends with the likes of Epik High, Teddy Park and T.O.P was that you usually had profound conversations. They weren't exactly philosophers, but they were artists - people who tried to express themselves through music, through their lyrics, and that meant they often had to go soul-searching.

So on a Thursday night, after a few rounds (was it five rounds or six) of soju, Jiyong walks home in a kind of drunken stupor - thank god for his high alcohol tolerance, he thinks hazily as he unlocks the door to his apartment - and crawls into bed with Tablo hyung's words ringing in his ears.

"You're too young to appreciate life right now. But just wait - wait until you turn 30. Then you'll realise how fast time flies, and you really do only live once, Jiyong. One lifetime. Doesn't seem enough to do all the things your heart wants to do, does it?"

He leans against the headboard, and mulls over Tablo hyung's words. Jiyong usually ignored advice from drunken men, but with Tablo hyung... Come on, the guy was a Stanford graduate. Even when he was drunk, he had a tendency to spit pearls of wisdom. And for some reason, the words struck a chord deep within Jiyong. Maybe it was the fact that he was already 27, or maybe it was the fact that he had been performing since he was a kid but he still hasn't made it to the global market - all of a sudden his stomach tightens, and he wants to heave, but he can't lose control, not right now.

So Jiyong simply turns on his side, and stares at the woman sleeping peacefully next to him. He stares at the woman who has been his anchor for the past eight years, and mentally traces the features of her face. Jiyong memorizes her, as he often did when he was close to losing his mind, because she was the rock he clung to when the waves became turbulent and dangerous.

Breathe, Jiyong, breathe.

His hand reaches out, and slowly cups the side of her face - you're here, you're real, thank God, he thinks in relief, and the hand moves down to her waist, and slowly Jiyong pulls her towards him; slowly, he is anchored to the ground again. She shifts slightly in his arms, and as if it was natural instinct Chaerin buries her head in his chest. He tightens his hold on her, gently pressing his lips into his hair, inhaling her scent, memorizing the way her body fit perfectly against his.

"Chaerin," he says quietly, knowing perfectly well that she would wake up - hello beautiful, he thinks as she peers up at him through sleepy, half-awake eyes.

"It's two in the morning," she mumbles into his chest, and Jiyong smiles slightly before nudging her.

"Wake up, sleepyhead. I need to talk to you about something." The usually charismatic Leader Lee lets out what sounds like an anguished wail with a few groans of "I hate you" thrown in, but she's wide awake, and looks at her boyfriend tiredly.

"Okay. Fire away."

"Do you think - I mean - okay, you know how people are always - I mean-" Jiyong can't, for the life of him, put it into words. The words seem to run together, and instead of sounding philosophical and profound he simply sounds exasperated, frustrated and most importantly, drunk. But Chaerin's small hand slips through his, and as their fingers intertwine she gives his hand a light squeeze - "How people are always...?" She prompts, and he sees only patience and warmth in her eyes, and Jiyong could kiss her now for always putting up with him.

"Okay," he says, taking a deep breath before starting over. "Do you think we're doing the right thing? Because we've only got one lifetime, you know, and it's just - do we really want to spend the rest of our lives being constantly scrutinised by the media? What's the point of being an artist, Chae? We're never going to leave a permanent mark on Earth or anything. Once we're gone, no one will remember us." Once they're out, his words startle himself - where did that come from, Kwon Jiyong? - and he looks at Chaerin, worried that she was going to think he had finally lost it. But she gazes back at him, and she understands, she sees him - she always does.

"I think..." She shifts closer to him, and his arm tightens around her waist, "I think the point of being an artist is not to leave a mark on Earth, but it's more towards leaving a lasting impression on people who listen to us. It doesn't matter if it's just one person or the whole population of Earth, as long as someone, somewhere, feels something when they listen to our music, then we should be satisfied. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah," Jiyong whispers, and it wasn't because her words answered all the questions, but because her presence allayed all his fears.

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm," he replies, smiling down at her - she's looking up at him with concern in her eyes, and it's moments like these that Jiyong wants to treasure forever, because in that moment, he was overwhelmed with the urge to protect her, to keep her close to him, to make sure he never lost her.

"Okay," she whispers, shifting slightly to bury her face in his chest once more. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

He lets out a small laugh at her already drowsy tone, and the way her words ran together like they did when she was sleepy. And as she slept in his arms, Jiyong has his second epiphany of the night - that it was okay to only have a lifetime to spend, as long as he had Chaerin by his side.

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I'm not very proud of this piece (as you can probably guess from its incredibly creative title), but I've been struggling with writer's block for a while now, so I thought posting something would jumpstart my writing flow. Tons of half-written fics in my phone and laptop waiting to be finished, sigh. And with GD being all heartbroken and depressed in real life, I can't help but write angsty fics, so the next few fics might be moodkillers hehe. As usual, comments are much appreciated!