Seungri often listened to music while waiting for his plane, or when sitting in the car, and it almost always was the music of Daesung’s band. It had been years since they last saw each other, but he still cared for his friend as much as he once did, if not more.

From time to time, he called the older up and they’d talk, though their conversations never lasted long. It was either Seungri having to end the call because his meeting was about to start, or his plane was about to take off and he had to turn off his phone, or it was because Daesung had an interview to give, or practice to go to, or shows to film. Even so, they didn’t particularly need a lot of words to convey to each other they were perfectly fine. Fine, but busy.

The last time Seungri had heard Daesung, the latter had talked about Minhyuk; their drummer, Haneul; their bassist, but mostly about Seungyoon; guitarist and vocal.

Seungri remembered how odd he had found the whole story of Daesung and Seungyoon meeting, but he had quickly come to understand why they had become close. There was a lot about Seungyoon, and Seungri had always regretted not having had enough time to get to know him even better.

What Daesung said though, made him feel a bit restless. Apparently the youngest member had met someone that gave Daesung chills, but he couldn’t pinpoint why exactly.

“So you’ve seen the person?” Seungri had asked him as he stirred his cup of coffee.

“A couple of times,” Daesung replied. “And he seems nice, he really does. But…” His voice trailed off, making Seungri frown.

“He unsettles you?” Seungri’s hand stilled so he could pay more attention to Daesung.

“Inexplicably, yes.”

Seungri also remembered having joked about Daesung’s feelings being too obvious, which made Daesung annoyed because whatever Seungri was implying was so terribly wrong. It was his dongsaeng, for crying out loud. Daesung had hung up with a grunt and they hadn’t spoken since.

Realising he probably was the one at fault he decided to make amends. He made his assistant arrange an event for all his business partners, and their families. There were bound to be kids that were fan of 4K.

He snickered when he thought of how they even got their name.

“So you’re Kang Minhyuk,” he pointed at the boy that just got introduced as Minhyuk, then his finger moved to the bassist. “You’re Kang Haneul.” He then looked at the youngest of the four; the singer. “And you’re Kang Seungyoon?”

They had all sheepishly smiled at him as Seungri—a little bit too serious—asked them if they went to a ‘Kang’-gathering of some kind and they had all figured ‘why the hell not start a band’.

At first they went through life as simply 4Kang, but when they debuted, they were launched as 4K, just because it rolled over the tongue more nicely.

Thirteen hours later, the jet bridge got connected to the aircraft, and he disembarked the plane. If there was one thing he absolutely hated about traveling internationally, it was going through emigration. It always took too long and they asked too many questions.

“Sir, we need to—” His assistant started, but he was quick to interrupt.

“No, I only brought hand luggage.” He waded through the sea of people, not even bothering listening to whatever the man tailing him had to say; he’s heard it too many times as well.

He’s heard everything too many times by now, and he’s gotten way too used to it all. He was craving for the slightest disturbance in his life, something that would shake him only a little, but still enough for him to remember what it felt like to be excited.

At that time, he merely didn’t realise how much he’d want to punch himself for ever having wished that later.

Later meaning exactly one hour and seventeen minutes later. At their hotel. At the reception desk.

“Can I help you, sir?”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Seungri half g