It’s almost time.  Jiyong can feel it, all the pent-up excitement and nervousness just boiling and waiting to blow beneath the surface.  Even now, as everyone is eating a simple breakfast, Jiyong notes the anxious air surrounding the kitchen; he feels it too in his heart and all the (hopefully polka-dotted) butterflies fluttering about in his stomach.  

His stomach is already full with all the butterflies, was full before he even took his first bite.  But here he is eating slowly, attempting to finish off as much of the plate as possible, because if he doesn’t, he knows that Taeyang will be disappointed.  And Jiyong doesn’t want that.  No, Jiyong wants to make everyone happy, but alas, he normally doesn’t have that power.  He’s not funny in any sort of way, unlike Seungri or Daesung or Taeyang (and he bets Seunghyun is secretly pretty hilarious as well)- the best he can do is be slightly amusing in his stupidity.  Therefore, all he can do is try to not make the others not happy.

“Look at this!” Daesung suddenly exclaims, bringing Jiyong out of his spacing-out with a start.  The  small-eyed teen points dramatically at a random section on Seunghyun’s newspaper, looking as if something of utmost importance is in front of his eyes.

“What?  What?” Seungri repeats excitedly as everyone gathers around Daesung and Seunghyun.  The latter merely sighs at the mass of people crowded around him, uncomfortable.  He hands the newspaper to Daesung and scoots a bit farther away from the crouched figure of Seungri, who sticks his tongue out before focusing on Daesung.

“Wait, I don’t see anything,” Taeyang comments, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.  “What were you so surprised about?”  On the other hand, Jiyong is caught up in amazement.  ‘Look at all these words!  It’s so cool!’  

Giving a little, horrified gasp, Daesung’s head snaps towards the manly mother, with an expression that spoke of absolute insultment.  “Do you see this?!” he says, bringing his finger ferociously onto a small area on the front page, voice incredibly passionate.  “This right here!”  Squinting, everyone reads it.  

“Doraemon?” Seungri questions uncertainly.  The fire within Daesung’s tiny eyes burn brighter.

“Yes!” he screams victoriously.  “A discount for Doraemon figurines!  And not just any Doraemon figurine- they’re limited edition and super duper rare!”  

“Th-that’s cool,” Jiyong says in awe, convinced that this must be the greatest product ever invented.

“Are you kidding me?” Seungri snorts, his tone one of disbelief.  Jiyong squeaks in terror and cowers in the face of the panda’s rage.  “I thought it was going to be something important- something big!”

Whirling around, Daesung shouts back, “it is something important!  It’s super duper duper important!  I mean, what’s not important about a limited edition Doraemon figurine?!”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Seungri states, voice dripping with sarcasm.  The other growls a bit and Taeyang abruptly stands up.

“Okay, okay, calm down, calm down.”  Taeyang waves his hands, then turns to Seungri.  “Apologize to Daesung,” he lectures.  The boy in question pouts.

“Fine,” he groans in defeat, literally dragging his body to face the victoriously huffing angel.  “I’m sorry for insulting your amazing Doraemon figurines.”  

“I accept your apology,” the younger says haughtily, turning his nose up (as if in disgust) before stuffing some food in his mouth.  The silence hangs in the air for a few more minutes until Jiyong gives up.

“I can’t finish this…” the boy cries feebly, incredibly stuffed at this point.  

“I’ll take it,” volunteers Seungri immediately, eyes lighting up at the prospect of more breakfast.  

“Eat it quickly then.” Taeyang glances at the clock  “We need to leave soon.”

“Stop worrying,” Seungri dismisses, shifting the half-eaten egg and toast from Jiyong’s plate.  “We have time- it’s not like they can start without us anyways.”  

“It’s not like we can keep them waiting either,” replies Taeyang frigidly.  The air instantly grows colder, tense and heavy.  Glancing guiltily between the now-emotionless Seungri and the harsh Taeyang, Jiyong can’t take it anymore, and he silently gets up, fleeing to his room, frightened.  

‘Did I cause that?’ The thought bothers him and shakily, he grabs the mini-notebook he carries around everywhere in his pocket, an amazing gift from Dongwook, who had dropped by for just a few minutes to give him this (“because I saw it and it was really cheap, and I knew I instantly had to get it,” quoted the man)- it even has a tiny pen, slid perfectly into the rings.  It’s his little comfort, losing himself in penning down words, oblivious to the world around him.  ‘What is right,’ Jiyong writes down, tapping his pen rhythmically against the messy paper and biting his lip.  ‘And what is wrong.  I don’t even know why I’m fighting with you.  Your face is flushed.  You’re getting upset.  But even when you’re looking like that, I…’ he trails off uncertainly.

Jiyong likes incredibly cheesy songs, which talk about romance and love even though he himself has never experienced any of it.  It’s just that it sounds so beautiful and soulful and artistic that he can’t ever write much else- it just isn’t the same, just doesn’t have the same feel to it.

A knock on the door brings him out of his thoughts with a jolt.  “Jiyong!” Taeyang’s muffled voice yells through the door.  “We need to get going!  YG just texted me- we’re going to be taking some pictures today!”

“O-okay!” Jiyong yelps back, and he hears the other’s solid footsteps walking away.  Looking longingly at his notebook, he places it back in his pocket and sighs regretfully.  The boy doesn’t let himself linger on it too much, shaking his head sharply and leaving the comfort of his sanctuary.  Once out, all of the leader’s insecurities and fears, his worries and doubts and anxiety, washes over him, leaving him feel as awkward as always, no longer comfortable in his own skin.

The walk to the kitchen drags on and on, as if he’s moving towards his death sentence, his heart pounding faster and faster the closer the pristine white walls of the kitchen get.  When the maknae finally reaches the doorway leading to the kitchen, he hesitantly grasps the wall, leaning forward to peak at the room, ears pricking for any sounds of arguing or shouting or things of the sort.  ‘Doesn’t seem like they’re arguing... ‘ he tells himself.  ‘C’mon, go!  You can do it!’

Cautiously, Jiyong slowly inches his bony frame from the wall, gripping it tighter and tighter the farther his head peaks out from behind it.

No one’s there.

The chairs are pushed in neatly, the table is cleaned up, the dishes are washed- the whole kitchen looks picture-perfect.  

There’s just no sign of any of the other members.

“U-um, anyone there?” Jiyong stammers.

Silence.

He immediately feels stupid.

As Jiyong prepares to turn around and run away once again, Seunghyun walks in, excluding an air of cool and confidence.  Instantly, the younger freezes, eyes big and innocent, mouth slightly open- the picture of a frightened deer caught in front of blaring headlights.

The older leans casually against the doorframe, staring languidly at Jiyong.  “The others are waiting in the car,” he remarks conversationally.  Registering the man’s words, the boy suddenly jumps up when he finally realizes its meaning, squeaking.  An amused twinkle in his smoky eyes, Seunghyun watches the younger panic and freak out before haphazardly running out the door, hair even wilder and messier than usual.  The rapper allows a small smirk to grace his handsome face before shaking his head and following the other, albeit in a much calmer fashion.  ‘The kid really is entertaining.’

“Man, what took you so long?” Seungri complains once Jiyong is finally seated and buckled up.  “We’re going to be late now and of course YG’s going to yell at me again, since I’m always the one that he blames…”

“I-I’m sorry,” the boy whimpers, coiling back from Seungri subtly.  ‘He really does hate me... ‘

Taeyang notices Jiyong’s fright, furrows his eyebrows, and scolds Seungri, “You don’t have to be so harsh on him.  He probably just didn’t know where we were because we randomly ran off to the car without telling him.”

“He could’ve inferred- I mean, where else could we have gone?”  Seungri persists stubbornly, pride not allowing him to be the one at fault yet again.

“Just stop being so pig-headed, will you?”  Taeyang replies angrily, obviously annoyed at this point, fed up with his friend’s selfishness.

Rolling his eyes, Seungri turns his head towards the window just as the car starts up.  It’s silent the rest of the way there, save for Daesung’s merry humming to the earphones plugged in his ears, and it makes Jiyong sort of sleepy.  The car parks slowly, smoothly, no doubt the result of countless years of experience, but it wakes the leader up anyways, who blinks blearily and yawns adorably as he gets out.  The sight of the unknown, relatively small building, however, shocks him out of any remnant of laziness.  ‘Oh gods, we’re taking a photo-shoot... ‘  

Jiyong doesn’t like cameras.  They’re bright and flashy and take pictures of you that you don’t want anyone, including yourself, to see, though the latter part might apply to only Jiyong.

He steals a quick glance around and gulps when he looks at the other members; they look like models, dressed more nicely than usual (why hadn’t he noticed that?).  The maknae looks down at his own outfit- a pair of loose, slightly baggy jeans, a slightly oversized t-shirt, a hoodie, and some sneakers.  ‘At least the shoes look nice... Kind of... ‘

Yup, Jiyong looks like a street kid next to the others, even though it’s nothing new.  Great.

Big Bang slowly files through the doors, directed by the managers, where they’re greeted by the people working there.  Everyone but Jiyong converses normally with them, getting comfortable with the studio as the leader just stands there awkwardly, silent and nervously playing with the drawstrings of his hoodie, not paying attention to any of his surroundings.  It doesn’t take long for the photographers to get everything set-up, and Seungri’s first to take pictures.  He makes charismatic poses, sometimes standing with his body turned slightly, swiveled towards the camera, sometimes bringing his hand behind his head and angling it just a bit, a taut smile on his face.  Once, he even points his finger directly at the lens of the camera, flamboyant in a certain way that only Seungri could pull off.  

“Come here,” a noona says to Jiyong, interrupting his blatant staring.  The boy flushes at being caught, ducks his head, and hurries over.  Inspecting him from head to toe, she sighs and asks, “Did you even brush your hair this morning?”  

“N-no,” Jiyong stammers, ashamed, and the noona pulls out a comb.

“Figures.”  Her tone is clipped as she steps closer to Jiyong and begins to brush his hair.  Jiyong remains quiet, resisting the urge to wince every time she rakes the comb harshly through tangled clumps and knots.  ‘I’m going to become bald like this... ‘

After that, she begins to apply strange things to his face.  There’s some sort of powder put on his skin, his eyes are being traced- it’s just all very confusing to Jiyong who, never the less, sits obediently on the chair, completely clueless to what’s going on.  Looking around, he sees the same things being applied to the other boys, and it gives him some comfort to know that he’s not the only that they’re touching-up.  

Before Jiyong knows it, the noona is finished and he’s being directed to step in front of the white wall, a camera angled at his face.  Blinking, the boy just stares, eyes wide and frightened, like a sheep who managed to find itself in the face of a fearsome wolf, with nowhere to hide.

“Make a pose,” the photographer encourages, keeping his voice as soft and gentle as possible as to not scare off the boy.  “Any will do.”

Jiyong, eager to follow any set of instructions, hesitantly crosses his arms (though it ends up looking as if he’s hugging himself from the world).  Click.  Click.  

“More!  More!” the man urges further as the shutter of the camera keeps clicking frantically.  “Anything!  Do anything!”  Unsure, Jiyong brings his hands behind his back and tilts his head back a little bit, like what he saw Seungri do.  Then, he awkwardly gives two thumbs-up, paired with a big, slightly uncomfortable smile.  ‘When will this end?’ he wonders in despair.  

Luckily, it’s over soon.  “Good!” the photographer calls for a stop.  The leader waddles off the set, unable to process what had just happened, and Taeyang takes the stage immediately, the air immediately changing and becoming masculine.  

“Good job,” Daesung greets him, pausing an animated conversation with Seunghyun.  “It’ll get better, don’t worry.”

“T-thanks,” Jiyong trails off, aware of how incredibly bad he did.  ‘The pictures are going to be so ugly and weird.’  Giving a bright smile, Daesung pats his head before returning to his chat.  Looking behind him, he sees Taeyang standing with his side angled towards the camera, a serious look on his face.  ‘So cool... ‘

Jiyong takes a seat on the little sofa provided and returns to staring at the shoot going on.  Taeyang now has a palm placed behind his head in a fierce stance, as if he’s a hunter-esque model.  The boy giggles at the thought.   Sometime in the middle of the session, Taeyang loses his shirt, revealing an enviable body complete with lean, rippling muscles and amazing abs.  Seungri jokingly catcalls in the background while the leader gapes.  ‘Wait, why did he take off his shirt?  Was I supposed to do that?’  He looks down at his bony frame and pinches his arm.  There’s nothing to pinch really.  ‘Nah….’  Jiyong cranes his head back up.  ‘So, does going to the gym do that?  I’m going go to the gym then and get muscles like Taeyang!’ he thinks, pumped up, eyes fiery at his resolution.

“Next!” yells the photographer after a little while.

“I guess that’s my cue then,” Daesung says with a smile, scurrying off.

“See- that’s why you should hit the gym more often.”  Taeyang smirks at Seungri, answering Jiyong’s internal question.  “You’re going to get flabby.”  The younger frowns petulantly and glares at his best friend.

“Fine, then.” he all but growls.  “I accept your challenge!”  ‘Me too!’ Jiyong cries in his head, motivated by Seungri’s drive (even though he wasn’t part of the “challenge” whatsoever).

“Hey,”  a deep voice grumbles.  Jiyong squeaks, almost falling over as he turns around so rapidly that his head spins.  Seunghyun’s sitting on the couch adjacent to Jiyong’s, graceful as can be, one arched eyebrow raised at the boy’s reaction.  ‘Was he always there?  How come I didn’t notice?  Oh my god, I’m so sorry!  Wait, I haven’t said something!  I bet he’s getting annoyed.  Oh my god, say something!’

“H-hi,” he whimpers, voice so quiet it’s inaudible to his own, red ears.  Seunghyun merely nods in response, eyes fixed on Daesung as the younger blows his cheeks up and makes all these impossibly weird, adorable, and funny faces.  Jiyong awkwardly watches Seunghyun watch Daesung, until the older suddenly shifts his dark eyes over and catches Jiyong’s wide, innocent, brown ones.  

“Something on my face?” he questions, voice just a touch cool.  

Jiyong leaps back, startled.  “No,” he splutters embarrassingly.  “No, no, nothing at all!”  Glancing at the boy a little longer, Seunghyun returns his attention to Daesung’s shoot.  The Doraemon-obsessed teen is blowing little kisses at the camera as everyone laughs in the background; Seunghyun can’t help the little grin creeping up his face.  ‘No, no, no,’ he scolds himself.  ‘You need to keep up the cool impression you have on Jiyong.  You’re the hyung!’

Meanwhile, a whole different scenario is playing out in Jiyong’s creative mind.  The words, ‘look at me Gwisoon’, keep repeating itself- to Jiyong, the sentence makes perfect sense.  Well, most of it at least.  He isn’t quite sure where the ‘Gwisoon’ part came from, but all the poses that Daesung is making looks a bit like he’s trying to catch someone’s attention, namely Gwisoon.  ‘Poor Daesung… it’s okay, it’s okay.  She doesn’t deserve you, whoever this Gwisoon is,’ Jiyong cooes to the imaginary, crying angel in his head as he pats him gently.  In fact, the maknae gets so caught up in this eccentric plot unraveling in his head that he doesn’t notice when the photographer calls for Seunghyun.  The elder rapper departs without a word, but not without shooting a strange look at Jiyong’s dopey expression, who doesn’t notice.

By the time the boy comes back to reality, Seunghyun is almost done with his shoot.  The taller teen stuffs his hands in his pockets, leans forward a bit, gives a playful smirk, and it’s done.  Everyone lingers a bit as the manager tries to organize everything before they leave and enter the van once more.

“Are we going to the rehearsal now?” Seungri questions, somewhat rhetorically, as the cars starts with a low hum.

“Yes, we are,” replies Youngbae for the manager.  Sighing a bit, the panda twists his neck to stare out the window, chin in his open palm, as the buildings begin to fly by.  Jiyong bites his lips nervously, eyes downcast as he fiddles with his fingers.  Silently, Seunghyun watches him, head cocked slightly to the side in childish curiosity, like a child watching a (polka-dotted) butterfly of some sort.

It takes a while to get to where their debut stage is.  The leader continues playing with his hands, looking up every once in a while only to immediately drop his gaze.  He isn’t sure how popular Big Bang is, but Jiyong supposes it’s fairly decent or else YG definitely would’ve informed them of his disappointment.  In fact, the boy could totally imagine the man coming up to them if they weren’t doing well and blatantly telling them, “Do better,” before strolling away.  Jiyong isn’t sure whether to giggle or shudder, so he does an odd blend of both.

Meanwhile, Seunghyun’s eyebrow shoots up.

Smoothly, the car comes to a stop and they exit.  

“Ah, it’s cold!” Daesung yelps, the biting air giving him goosebumps.  

“Then wear more.” Seungri rolls his eyes.  “Your fault for wearing so little,” he shrugs at Daesung’s thin jacket.  The Doraemon-obsessed teen pouts.

“Cruel hyung….” he whines as they begin to move.  

‘D-do you want my s-sweater?” Jiyong asks him quietly.  He doesn’t feel cold anyways- he’s gone through much worse.

Daesung turns around and gives a blindingly radiant smile, ruffling the boy’s hair, who blinks up owlishly at him.  “Nah, it’s fine.”

He’s clearly not.  Jiyong can hear his teeth chattering from miles away; however, he can’t force the older to accept his offer, so he keeps quiet.

Hurry, hurry, hurry,” the manager mutters, hustling them along.  ‘Okay, okay, okay,’ Jiyong responds in his head.

The crew is already there, the stage bright with the glaring lights from above.  As soon as they enter, YG pulls the manager over, talking to him seriously as the other nods with furrowed eyebrows.  In the meantime, the members of Big Bang gather behind the curtains as a man, once again, reviews the choreography with them again.  Even though they’ve heard it around a million times already, they listen intently, not wanting to make a single mistake- they just couldn’t afford to do so.  Then the music begins to echo throughout the empty hall and Jiyong takes a deep breath to try to calm the inevitable anxiety budding inside the pit of his stomach.  He’s handed a microphone, which the boy accepts with a trembling hand.  The man makes a cue with his hand and he leaves his solace.

People are watching his every move, making sure he does everything absolutely perfectly- the thought disturbs him.  ‘They’re just potatoes,’ he reminds himself, a common trick he used to use.  ‘Just potatoes.  Ignore the fact that potatoes have eyes.’  A bit more at ease now, he goes through the motions without error.  The rest of the rehearsal goes by smoothly.  Everyone comes in on time on their entrances, with the choreography practically seared into their muscles at this point.    

At the end of the day, when the members of Big Bang are packing up to leave, YG announces, “Concert in 3 days!  Make sure you practice and that you’re ready!”

Jiyong freezes in his tracks.

3 days.

Oh gods, someone please help him.

Alright, so I'm officially the worst author ever.  How long has it been- 2 months?  

....:(

Omigawd, I'm so sorry.  To be honest, I have been busy, but in my free time, I've started to take up an obsession with f(x) (Krystal for life!).  I really like their music to tell the truth.

This really is late.  Meep.

On a side note, anyone heard the Good Boy yet?  By GD x Taeyang?  It's pure amazing.  I also happen to like trap music.

Don't judge lolz.  

Anyways, if you're still reading this story-that-was-on-an-unofficial-hiatus, thanks for doing so!  :)  Hopefully, the next will come out in less time than this one did....o_o