I am so tired.  Exhausted to the bone is more like it.  Even though it’s fun traveling with the YG Family for these concerts, it does make it that much more of a spectacle.  That many more fans at the airport, that many more stylists and managers traveling with us, that many more personalities to deal with.  As I wait for the bags to be cleared at customs, I’m glad that we only have one more of these left.  Not that it really ends of course, but the Japan concerts are just me and the boys again.

But I shake any thoughts of that concert out of my heads.  I’ve got bigger fish to fry before that.  Like what chord progression will fix the chorus of “Haeboja”.  I’ve been thinking about it for weeks, and a solution still hasn’t worked itself out yet.  Or better yet, how can I get rid of this stupid pimple right in the middle of my chin.  Bastard.

“Hyung, are you going home or straight to the studio?”  Daesung’s soft voice interrupts my thoughts, and I can’t help but smile at how well he knows me.  “You don’t have other schedules today, I hope?”

His concern touches me, because I know he’s just as beat because of his Japanese promotions.

“Probably should go home, but you know me, I’m gonna end up asking manager hyung to swing by the office for ‘just a second’… which means I’ll end up sleeping there,” I acknowledge with a grin.

His eyes light up because he knows I’m not kidding.  “C’mon, hyung, just rest for a few hours, take a shower and eat some of your mom’s food.  That’s what I’m planning on doing.  Nothing else.”

We start walking toward the exit, when an idea pops into my head.  I veer a little closer to Daesung and sling my hand onto his shoulder.

“Daesungah, don’t you want to join me?  We can order in some food, or I tell you what, I’ll ask the ahjummas downstairs to make your favorite soup… without any oil.  C’mon, haeboja….” I say, pressing the pads of my fingers into his muscles, smiling directly at him and whispering into his ear.

He lifts his hand to grab hold of my fingers, his eyebrows raised as his head turns to look at me in concern.

“Haeboja? You’re still not satisfied?” he sounds surprised.  “Of course, if you need me to help, I’ll come.  Is it okay if I go home quickly to shower and get in some comfortable clothes first?”

“I was just kidding, dongsaeng.  Go home, you need the rest.  Well, actually, the beauty sleep,” I crack.

“Me?” he says, pointing to himself, “Look who’s talking…”

I grudgingly smile, knowing he’s referring to this damn pimple, while he tosses his head back and laughs wholeheartedly.  I know he's kidding, just as he knows I was - who in their right mind could make fun of his appearance?  We head to our vans waiting at the curb.  Holding the open door, I turn around to say a quick goodbye before he hops into his, but before I can say anything, I hear him yell.

“I’ll see you in about an hour, hyung.  Ask the ahjummas to make the soup non-spicy too!”

I grin and nod – I should’ve known that once I said it, he’d come.  Oh well, we’ll be exhausted together.  Haeboja!

…