Jiyong wakes up at dawn, face buried in his slightly damp pillow.  It’s still amazing to think that he’s in his own bed, in his own room, and he finds it rather hard to accept.  Sitting up, he stretches and yawns, wincing as the bright sunlight filtering into the room hits his eyes cruelly.  He’s definitely awake now.  A small bounce in his steps (even though he remembers Seungri’s disdain from the day before and it stings, but the boy reminds himself that it’s a new day), Jiyong walks to the kitchen, cheerfully humming a spontaneous tune.  When he gets there, it hits him that he has absolutely no clue what he’s doing here.  Awkwardly, he takes a seat at the dining table, staring at the blank wall.  It’s white.  It’s clean.  Jiyong decides it’s pretty.

He drifts off and doesn’t notice when Youngbae stumbles into the kitchen, looking terribly tired as he rubs his eyes blearily.  The latter, mind still a bit fuzzy with sleep, blinks when he sees Jiyong sitting there quietly, watching something dazedly.  A bit confused, Youngbae follows his gaze and furrows his eyebrows when there’s nothing but the wall.  

“Uh, Jiyong?” he calls, slightly worried.  ‘He doesn’t look like the type to take drugs…But maybe he does- you never know…Oh gods, please tell me he doesn’t take drugs.  Gods, please, Jiyong, wake up.  Please, please…’  Youngbae almost whoops in relief when his words seem to startle Jiyong out of his trance, and the younger finally recognizes Youngbae and flushes in embarrassment.  

“Y-Youngbae-ssi!” he exclaims, scrambling to get up and do a hasty bow.  “G-Good morning!”

“Good morning, Jiyong.  When’d you get up?” Youngbae can’t stop the motherly side of him from coming out, especially with the younger.  Jiyong is just so thin and and small and fragile that it automatically provokes some protective urge within the older.  ‘Just how old is he anyways?  He’s just like a little kid.’

“A-around 6!” The clock reads 7.  And Youngbae thought he got up early.  

“What were you doing for an hour then?”

“U-umm…” Jiyong trails off, unsure of what he was actually occupied with for the long period of time.  “Your wall is v-very pretty!” His mouth speaks before he can think, and his face turns deep red when Youngbae blinks at his response and looks at him weirdly.  Jiyong wants to curl up in a ball and sob in shame somewhere far away, preferably not near a white, pretty wall.  ‘Stupid stupid stupid, now even Youngbae will think you’re a weirdo!  He was so nice to you too…’ he internally bawls.

Watching multiple emotions flicker across Jiyong’s face, Youngbae only smiles at the younger’s panicking amusedly.  The boy is just so easy to read, and Youngbae feels maternal instincts flare up inside him again.  ‘Gods, I feel like a mother…’ The thought, surprisingly, doesn’t disturb the older as much as he would expect it to, considering that he is a guy- a very manly guy at that.  He has the muscles and the strong and silent type of aura to prove it too, and this reassures him.  

After a few minutes of silence, though, Youngbae feels a bit of pity and decides that Jiyong has been berating himself over nothing for long enough, even if it is rather nice to see the younger’s thoughts expressed so honestly.  Clearing his throat, the older firmly says, “Jiyong, I was only curious.  I don’t think any less of you, so stop thinking that.”  Jiyong’s mouth falls a bit open at being found out, and he blushes even further, red skin resembling a ripe tomato.

“I-I,” the boy tries to stammer, but no words come out.  The older can’t stop the fond grin creeping along his face, nor can he stop his hand from reaching out and patting Jiyong on the head.  The latter peers up adorably at the arm stretched out above him, and Youngbae feels as if he really is touching a little puppy.

“It’s okay,” he soothes, before retracting his hand (‘What are you doing, Youngbae?  He’s not a pet,’ he reminds himself) and walking to the kitchen.  “So, what do you want for breakfast?”  

“U-um, it’s oka-”

“No, you have to eat.  Breakfast is the most important meal of the day,” Youngbae cuts the younger off sternly, fixing the boy in place with a reprimanding glance as he grabs a pan.  “Plus, you certainly need the food.  I’ll just make some omelettes, alright?”  Jiyong blinks when Youngbae strides to the refrigerator and grabs out several eggs, handling them carefully so that they won’t break, as well as some vegetables, since the older believes strongly in good nutrition/health.  ‘Plenty of protein and vegetables for a good start to the day,’ he thinks.  ‘We’re almost out of eggs, again.  I think the store down the block is having a sale on eggs- I’ll need to buy some later tonight.’

“W-what’s an omelette?” Jiyong voices out timidly, unable to keep the question in any further as he watches Youngbae chop the onions and carrots and tomatoes and green stuff (Jiyong isn’t exactly sure what it is, but some of it looks like a cute flower) and expertly crack the eggs.  The latter stops and looks at him strangely.  ‘I knew I shouldn’t have asked that!’ the younger flails.

“You never had one?”

“No,” Jiyong whimpers out pitifully.  

Youngbae turns back to cooking, adding the other ingredients as well as a pinch of salt and sugar and pepper before replying, “it’s basically just scrambled eggs, with things thrown in.”  His explanation is so simple, and Jiyong feels like an utter idiot for asking.

“O-oh…”  The air is silent for a few minutes, and the time stretches even longer as the boy just watches the other cook and transfer big circles of yellow onto pretty white plates.  ‘It’s so colorful!’  Jiyong wants to clap at the contrast of the bright colors and the stark white.

“I’ll go wake the others up- stay here, Jiyong.”  The aforementioned boy jumps in fright when Youngbae’s gentle voice breaks the quiet, but he nods eagerly, perched gingerly on the chair.  Examining his “omelette” closely, the leader wonders how the older knew how to cook so wonderfully (it was probably some innate talent of his, considering his motherly nature), and he wishes that the other could, maybe, even teach him one day.  ‘I’d probably burn down the house though…’  Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Daesung dragging his feet, struggling to walk, as he enters the kitchen.  ‘Wau, he’s still really handsome…Except now he’s like a zombie model.’  As he plops down in a seat, slumped over and half-dead, Jiyong can’t help but giggle, but squeaks and hurriedly stuffs a hand over his mouth when the other lifts his head to stare at Jiyong with  expressionless eyes.

“G-Good morning, D-Daesung-ssi!” the boy yelps.  Something seems to finally register in Daesung’s brain as he recognizes the frightened Jiyong and smiles, albeit a bit tiredly.

“Good morning, Jiyong,” he greets.  The rest of the group slowly trickle in, though none seems as sleep-deprived as the small-eyed teen.  Seunghyun immediately heads to a little machine and pours a fresh mug of coffee for each of them, and when Daesung sips a bit, he seems to brighten up immediately.  “Sorry for earlier.  I’m not a morning person,” the older explains as his coherence comes back to him gradually.

“Understatement of the century,” Seungri mutters, rolling his eyes as he takes his own gulp of the dark-brown liquid and begins to dig into his breakfast.  Hesitantly, Jiyong tries his cup of coffee, but his eyes widen and he nearly spits it out at the taste.  ‘So bitter,’ he cries out, horrified.

“It’s not sweet.”  Seunghyun lifts an elegant eyebrow as he gracefully drinks his coffee.  ‘You should’ve told me that earlier,’ Jiyong wants to whine petulantly, but reigns it in honorably.  Diverting his attention away from the gross liquid, he tries a piece of the omelette and finds that he likes it a lot (‘so much better than the coffee’), though he is careful not to blurt it out like dinner last night.  

“You’re so good at cooking!”  …Okay maybe not.  Jiyong’s face burns and his shoulders slump.  ‘I tried,’ he bleats in his head.  ‘It’s just impossible…’

“Thanks.”  The rest of breakfast passes by in comfortable silence, interrupted by the occasional rustle from both of the Seunghyuns’ newspapers.  Jiyong eats until he can’t stuff himself further, but still has well over half of the omelette left and he guiltily gives it to Daesung, who chirps happily at the prospect of more food.  Despite the latter’s joy, the younger deflates further at the motherly frown on Youngbae’s gentle face, though he really did try his best to finish the omelette.

When breakfast is finished and the plates are clean, the others go to change, leaving Jiyong standing awkwardly.  Youngbae is the fastest, dressed comfortably in a pair of sweats and a white t-shirt, though he still looks unbelievably cool in an effortless way.  “You don’t have any other clothes?” he asks, surprised that Jiyong is still wearing the same outfit from yesterday.  The latter ducks his face and shakes his head in shame, turning red that someone noticed.  Blinking, Youngbae wonders why the younger has only one set of clothes, but brushes the thought away when he sees Jiyong fidget uncomfortably.  A soft smile break out across his face and he pats the other on the head again.  “It’s alright; let’s go shopping this weekend, alright?” Youngbae offers kindly as the younger peeks at the other shyly through his curtain of long hair.

“R-really?’

“Yes really.  You can borrow some of my clothes until then, okay?  Follow me.”  Steps firm and sure, Youngbae heads to his own room with Jiyong trailing closely behind, who admires the former’s gait.  ‘Does everyone walk so cool, but me?’  Unable to resist the urge, the boy, again, compares his strides to the older’s, realizing miserably that while both Youngbae and Seungri exclude an air of commanding confidence at all times, Jiyong fails at it.  Majorly.  ‘I want to be as manly as them,’ the leader pouts, puffing his cheeks up in frustration.

“Oh, Youngbae, whatcha doing?” Seungri his head a bit to the side when he sees Jiyong behind his best friend, looking completely lost in thought.  In reply, Youngbae gestures to the other.

“Getting some clothes for him; he doesn’t have any of his own.  I’m the closest in height I suppose.”

“Well, you are a bit lacking in height,” Seungri teases, but rolls his eyes and puts his hands up in surrender when Youngbae’s face darkens a bit.  “Alright, fine- I’ll wait in the kitchen.”  The panda brushes by Jiyong, bewildered when the latter still hasn’t acknowledged him in the slightest.  

Youngbae opens his closet and calls Jiyong over, effectively startling the other out of his daydreaming.  “Here, pick your favorites.  Sorry, I don’t have a lot of clothes- I don’t have the best fashion sense.”

“But i-it’s very manly!” At this, Youngbae only chuckles and leaves Jiyong to pick out what he wishes to wear, choosing to wait with Seungri.  ‘H-He’s letting me choose?’  Jiyong’s admiration (more like adoration) for Youngbae grows even further,  ‘He’s so nice and manly…A manly mother…’ Imagining Youngbae as a housewife, yelling at Seungri (who he imagines would be his husband since they’re so close) and wearing an apron which brings out all his powerful muscles and cooking delicious meals, Jiyong giggles and inspects the shirts and pants in the closet.

He chooses a simple pair of dark jeans and a green t-shirt, not wanting to be more of a bother than he already is.  The clothes are too big on him, baggy and loose as they weigh down his movements slightly, but they’re clean and fresh and, most of all, they’re Youngbae’s, which is a testament to the older’s warm heart.  ‘They smell nice…’  Shuffling to where everyone is waiting, the other members of Big Bang stifle a laugh at the sight of Jiyong, who looks exactly like a small kid drowning in his dad’s clothes, all the way down to the clueless expression.

“We’re all ready?” Youngbae questions carefully, and when the others nod, the group heads out to the studio.  As they enter the large building, Jiyong is stopped by Dongwook, who is, again, leaning against a wall relaxedly.  ‘It’s the Greek god…’ Jiyong immediately feels the same amount of awe he experienced yesterday at the great Se7en’s eternal swag and model-esque looks/poses.

“C’mon, Jiyong.”  The leader turns to the other members (they had already been informed of his unique schedule) and bows gratefully.

“Bye!” he cries as he hurriedly follows Dongwook’s quick pace to the recording studio.  “Thank you for everything!”

“You’ll be back for dinner, right?” Daesung calls, and the boy nods.  “Alright, see you there!”  He offers a blinding, beautiful smile, which Jiyong can only return dazedly, distracted by the shining radiance of the other’s.  ‘He’s so cool…’

When the other members are out of hearing range, Dongwook, much like a worried parent on his kid’s first day at school, asks Jiyong, “were the other Big Bang members alright?  They didn’t treat you bad or anything right?”  Jiyong shakes his head and offers Dongwook an adorably shy smile.

“They were really nice!  Youngbae’s like a mom-, a really cool and strong and sweet mom.  He cooks really good too and he let me borrow his clothes!  He’s so nice….” Dongwook chuckles at Jiyong’s innocent rambling, visibly relaxing at the boy’s statement.   

“Good.  Youngbae’s a good kid- they are all really, though some of them a bit more than others.  If they’re ever mean to you, though, tell me and I’ll knock their immature brains right out of their skulls.” Eyes widening, Jiyong shakes his head furiously, clearly unsettled at Dongwook’s threat.

“Don’t do that!  They’re all really nice!” He emphasizes his words with wild gestures, flailing about panickedly.  ‘This kid…’ Dongwook chuckles.

“Okay, okay,” he relents, even holding up both his hands in surrender for good measure.  “Really, though, any problems?”

“None!” Jiyong yelps quickly, almost walking straight into the door of the recording studio before Dongwook hurriedly grabs his rail-thin arm and pulls sharply, successfully saving the younger from an imminent crash and a bump on the head.  Maybe even a flattened nose.

“You okay?” The man inspects the boy’s face, scanning for any injuries.  

“I-I’m o-okay,” the younger stutters, turning a dangerous shade of red at Dongwook’s scrutiny as he begins to tremble delicately.  ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ he cries internally, well-aware of his less-than-attractive looks.  ‘I know I’m ugly…’

Noticing the ashamed expression on Jiyong, Dongwook pokes the other’s cheek.  “Clumsy.  Let’s go in, okay?”  His tone is affectionate as he pushes in the door.  Jiyong darts in, not wanting a repeat of the incident.  The pair settle themselves in front of the large monitor, jumping right into work.

An hour later, complex melodies still echoing in both their heads, Dongwook calls for a stop.  They had come up with some satisfactory lyrics for a few songs, and had penned the ones for the intro.  “You got vocal practice next,” the man informs Jiyong, who listens intently, looking so serious that the former breaks out into a smile.  “After your session with Woojin, you’ll have lunch in the Cafeteria, and yes he’ll show you the way there.  By the way, the food is damn amazing.”

Jiyong blinks, startled.  “H-how did you know w-what I was going to ask?” he stammers, eyes going wide.  “Are you psychic, Dongwook-ssi?”

“It was written all over your face, kid.  Also,” Dongwook pauses for effect.  “You don’t have to call me ‘Dongwook-ssi.’  Makes us sound too professional.  We’re friends, right?” ‘We are?’ the boy wonders, slowly growing more excited.  ‘He says I’m his friend!  He wants me to be his friend, even though he’s so cool and amazing and loved!’

“O-of course!” Jiyong practically shouts, too busy spazzing out to register his outburst.  

Chuckling, Dongwook continues, “Then just call me hyung, okay?”  The boy nods vigorously.  “Alright, moving on, after lunch, come back to the studio and work on the songs.  I won’t be there- I have my own schedule after all, as Se7en, but I’ll come fetch you in the afternoon for our dance session, okay?  Just so you know, I moved the member’s vocal recordings into the computer, so you know what you’ll be working with and how to match the singing and lyrics.  Arrange the songs as you like and show them to me after dancing.  This will be your schedule for the next few weeks by the way.”  Ruffling the boy’s hair, he gives a fatherly grin.  “It’s a lot of work, but you need to catch up.  Anyways, Woojin’s waiting.  See you later, Jiyong.”  The boy robotically heads to the door, still processing all the info.

“Bye, Dongwo- I mean hyung!” Jiyong corrects himself, remembering what Dongwook said and not wanting to insult the latter, especially when the man just told him that they were friends.  He cheerfully skips out of the studio, before realizing something rather important.  ‘Ummm…Where’s the practice room again?’

“Here’s the cafeteria,” Woojin introduces as Jiyong gapes at the room.  It’s a rather nice and comfortable room, its relaxed ambience complete with wooden tables and plush chairs and a self-serve counter buzzing with activity from the cooks chopping and cooking  The aroma is heavenly, to say the least, and the dim lighting is easy on Jiyong’s eyes.  There are a few people eating, none of which Jiyong knows, and none of which know Jiyong.  Woojin easily grabs a tray and fills it before going to a table with other people that greet him amicably.  Gulping, Jiyong decides to do the same, albeit a lot less smoothly.

When he gets close to the bar, the boy can only gape at the wide variety of choices, all of which look and smell like food from the gods.  A thought strikes him, and Jiyong silently laughs at the image of Dongwook as a chef, a stern expression on his face as he holds a large ladle in one hand.  

When he comes back to the real world, Jiyong quickly checks around him to see if anyone saw his blanking out, relieved when everyone seems to be immersed in their own worlds.  Nervously, he shuffles over to the counter and stares at the numerous options.  ‘Which one should I get?  The beef looks really good, but those bean sprouts do too… Oh, oh, oh, that looks so delicious!  Can I just get some of everything?  But I don’t want to trouble them and take more than I have to, because then they’ll have to cook more and I’ll look like a pig…Have I been standing here too long?  Oh my god, I probably look so weird just standing here and not taking anything.  Uh oh, what if they think that I don’t want to get anything?’  At this point, Jiyong makes up his mind, forcing his arm to be as still as possible as he reaches for the kimchi.  ‘Everyone eats kimchi, right?’

Putting a bit on his tray, he scans the other foods and quickly takes a small portion of beef and rice before he can question his choice.  Then, he hurriedly dashes to an empty table and plops down on it.  ‘I did it!’  Jiyong thinks, puffing his chest proudly as he begins to eat.  ‘Oh, this is as good as Youngbae’s!’  After he finishes, his belly full, he heads to the recording studio again.

Once there, Jiyong gives a listen to each member’s recording, imagining how they would fit with certain lyrics, and scribbles some notes down.  As he continues working, not paying attention to how much time has passed, Dongwook enters the room sneakily.

“Boo!” he shouts and Jiyong squeals in surprise, falling out of his chair dramatically.  

“H-hyung!” Dongwook laughs at the dumbfounded expression on the boy’s face.  “Where did you come from?”  ‘Oh my god, can he teleport too?’

“From thin air,” the man replies sarcastically, though the humor in his voice doesn’t register with Jiyong, whose mouth drops open.

“T-that’s amazing!  You’re like a god!”

“Yup!  And as your god, I command you to follow me to the studio for your dance session,” Dongwook booms as Jiyong stumbles after him out of the studio.

“Alright, so let me see what you’ve been working on.” Jiyong anxiously hands over his notebook, which Dongwook scans seriously.  

“Looks fine to me, though we’re going to have to get the members in here to record demo’s before we can determine anything.”  He returns the notebook and Jiyong freezes up.

“D-do I have t-to be there as they record?” the boy stutters, eyes darting around the room.

“Well, I guess you don’t…If you really don’t want them to know that you wrote the lyrics, then I suppose you can just practice your singing and dancing during that time, since you don’t need an instructor 24/7.  What, are you afraid that they’ll make fun of you?” Dongwook softens when Jiyong nods.  “Okay, I’ll have to tell YG though.  It’s getting late, so let me get you back to the dorms.”  The two depart from the building, getting into the same silver car as last time.  

“Thank you, hyung!” Jiyong calls after the other as he enters the dorms.  Dinner is, of course, yummy, and is as awkward for Jiyong as yesterday.  Youngbae still gives him a disapproving frown at the amount the boy eats, Seunghyun is still silent, as cold and handsome as a prince, Daesung is still bright and cheerful, and Seungri is still the hilarious drama-queen.  Flopping on the bed, Jiyong looks over his lyrics again, crossing out some lines and revising others.  He wants them to be as perfect as possible since the other Big Bang members will be reading them tomorrow.  Jiyong, caught up in his own world, doesn’t hear the others finish their dinner, doesn’t hear them going to their own rooms, and doesn’t hear them say their ‘good night’s’.  All he hears are the songs playing in his own head, heavy beats thumping, and the members’ beautiful voices singing along.

It's Jiyong's first full day at YG!  Sorry if the story and the updates are very slow. D:  Oh yeah, I forgot to mention- I'll be gone for the next few weeks. :(  So I'm not sure when the next chapter will be finished (I'll try my best!  Even though the updates are already so slow lolz).

Thanks for reading!  Everyone who subscribed or left comments so far gets a free, chocolate-chip cookie!  Oatmeal raisin is also available. ^-^