Home. I knew it should have sounded like Heaven. It should have made me so excited to be back in Seoul at the appartment. It should have made me finally relax. I would be in the comfort of my own home, with time to finally relax.

I felt none of those things when I entered the quiet apartment. Who knew where Vincent was.

I hobbled across the doorway on my crutches without taking my shoes off. I didn't even bother to turn on the light. This place... I didn't deserve it. It wasn't me.

I made my way to my room, and dropped my suitcase at the door.

This didn't even feel like my room anymore.

I looked around thre crisp white room accented with lime green and purple. So many things happened here; club prepping with Anika and Vinny, girl nights with 2NE1, Jiyong helping me style an outfit, watching zombie movies with Taeyang, Daesung cowering against me as the scary moment of a movie happened, random hookups with TOP.... The night Seungri and I made up....

Who was that girl? She wasn't me. She weas some happy, carefree idol. She didn't care if she made some news headline. She didn't care if she was the center of attention.

I slowly stepped through my room. Picture frames adorned most free space on tables, dressers, and walls. Selcas. Selcas were such an up-close and personal way to take a picture. Selcas were what took up most of my picture frames. There was a selca of me and my brother after the K-Con concert, both sweaty and smiling. A selca of Daesung and I on the beach in LA, me in a bikini while he was shirtless and in swim trunks. A selca of Anika and I in zombie makeup, which we had begged Lola to try on us. A selca of Jiyong and I mean-mugging onset for One of a Kind, which I had danced in the video. A selca of Taeyang and I from years ago in the recording studio in Chicago, me wearing his black and yellow smiley face hat. A recent selca of TOP and I on the Doom Dada set, him in his eyepatch from the scene we had both been in. A mirror selca of Minzy and I, us both doing the splits in the dance studio. A selca of Bom and I eating pizza, our eyes wide. A selca of Dara and I after their first Falling in Love performance. A selca of CL and I in a club, shots of soju in our hands.

Seungri. I had so many pictures of Seungri and I. Selfies and professional photos. In the pictures we were smiling, laughing, being silly, and being serious. Every picture told a different story.

I walked over to my bedside table, and picked up the frame that was on top of it.

Me and Seungri's first selca ever; we were onset for his English version of Strong Baby music video. It had been right before we taped the dance sequence. He was smirking, and I had that anxious and nervous smile on my face. I was so scared, so intimidated, so innocent.

That girl wasn't me.

My heart sank lower than it had already been. The lump in my throat felt like it was threatening to explode. My head throbbed. My chest hurt.

The girl in those pictures... that wasn't me.

Who was I anymore?

I dropped my crutches, ignoring the throbbing, stiff pain of my ankle, and limped into the kitchen. Under the sink, I grabbed the black garbage bags. I made it back to my room before the tears came out of my eyes, a throaty, disgusting sob following soon after.

None of this was me. These pictures, the makeup, the shoes, the clothes, the room. It wasn't mine. I didn't deserve those things.

YG's words still haunted in the back of my mind. He had said everything he needed to say. He had been speaking the truth.

I quickly opened a black garbage back, then swung open my closet door.

I didn't deserve any of this.

Third Person POV

"She should be home, champ." Kevin told Vincent as he dropped the twin off at the apartment. "Go on and show her that new M-Countdown trophy you won today."

"It's midnight. I bet she's exhausted and asleep." Vinny shrugged. "She didn't even text me that she was home." To be honest, Vincent thought his sister would have come to the show.

"Well, I'm sure she won't mind being woken up. Tell the doll-face that I miss her." VINAT's manager smiled before stopping the car.

"I will, Kev. See you tomorrow." Vinny sighed and got out of the van. He was pretty beat himself, and a shower and his bed sounded mighty nice about now.

The Italian made it up to his apartment and opened the door. "Nat?" He said as he stepped through the apartment doorway.

Huh. Weird. The hall and living room lights were off.

Vinny pushed off his high-top sneakers and peered down the hallway. He could barely see a sliver of light coming from Natalia's room, and he heard noises. Not speaking or anything human. Like rustling and things being thrown.

Vinny made his way to Natalia's room, confused. What could she be doing this time of night? Did her plane land late so she was just now unpacking?

"Hey, Nat I...." Vinny's voice trailed off as he pushed open his sister's door.

Shocked wasn't even the right word to describe how he felt when he saw it.

Clothes. Clothes were everywhere. Thrown across the bed, onto chairs, on top of dressers, on the floor. Vinny's confusion increased when he saw clothes even filling large garbage bags. Makeup was spilled, powder staining the white carpet, gel eyeliner smudged onto the wall.

The mirrors. All of the mirrors had been covered by blankets so that no one could see them.

Not only that, but all the pictures were gone. Well, not gone, but turned away. The pictures that had been on the walls were now face-down on the ground. Pictures on tables and dressers were also turned down.

In the middle of it all, curled up on her side, on top of various dresses and skirts, as her body shook, was Natalia. Headphones blocked her hearing, so she didn't know her brother had come home. baggy sweats, a ratty cutoff, and comforting sports bra hung on her body, her cuts and bruises on her side in plain sight for her brother to see. Her eyes were shut as she stayed silent and shook. She didn't cry. No tears were left in her eyes. All her body could do was shake.

Vincent's eyes went wide as he took this all in. Was this because of the scandal that had broken out yesterday? What were the cuts from? Why were her mirrors covered and the pictures turned away? Why was her room a disaster?

This wasn't Natalia. This wasn't the upbeat, confindent, tidy, organized sister he knew.

Vinny knew he should go in. Beg his sister to tell him what was wrong so he could fix it. Ask who caused her pain so he could go kick their . Promise that he would fix everything.

But, he didn't know how to do any of that.

Vincent slowly backed up out of the room, and shut his sister's bedroom door before turning to his own room.