Part 1

Spiced Gingerbread Whipped Cream

G T O P

“So what are you going to do next?” inquired Youngbae, after pressing the ground floor button in the lift.

The metal door closed behind them, letting Jiyong sigh out in relief. They were done with work for today. The prospect of burying himself under the layers of soft bedding and sleeping till midday was the only thing that kept him alive for now.

“Nothing,” he replied, according to truth. He leant back against one of the three mirrored walls and closed his eyes not to look at his tired reflection. “I will just go to bed.”

“Me too,” Youngbae said. Both of them agreed on this.

They hadn’t done much today: some composing and recording samples in the studio. Nothing they were satisfied with. Another wasted day that didn’t bring them any closer to BIGBANG’s comeback that was so desired and anticipated by everyone. They should be amongst all these people impatiently waiting for it, but it didn’t work. They were too exhausted, the pressure was too overwhelming. It was hard to work in such conditions. They had enough before it had even properly started.

Sometimes Jiyong thought they had reached a point where nothing could be better than what they had done before and therefore, there was no hope for improvement. But he wasn’t one to give up so easily. He had promised himself he would try and try until he would succeed. And so he did every day, from early morning till almost midnight. Luckily, there was Youngbae to support him. As yet, nothing worked as good as they wished, but that was not a reason to back down. They would produce this album, sooner or later, and it would be a bomb. He was G-Dragon after all. I’ve got 88 problems and makin’ hits ain’t one, right?

They had been certain Good Boy was the thing. When they finished the demo, they could picture BIGBANG coming back with it. It was a good song, upbeat and catchy. It might be their new big phenomenon after Fantastic Baby. They didn’t need much. TOP could be asked to come to the studio for a few hours. Two or three days would be enough and it wouldn’t affect his filming too much. They could arrange a recording for Daesung in Japan, so that his tour wouldn’t stand in the way. Jiyong was ready to take a plane there and personally supervise it. He also knew ways to make Seungri stop doing everything he was so busy with.

But Yang had said no. That way they had come back to status quo.

They spent the lift ride in a complete silence. Youngbae didn’t say anything, Jiyong didn’t feel like starting a conversation either. They had talked enough today. Both their tongues and eardrums needed rest.

“Ground. Floor,” announced the automatic female voice when the lift stopped.

Jiyong peeled his sweaty back from the wall and got ready to leave. He was still holding his coat in his hands with a beanie and a scarf tucked into its sleeve and a pair of sunglasses sunken in the depths of one of the pockets. He knew he would have to put them on before leaving the building, but he was still too hot. His cheek was burning when he touched it with his cold hand. Some fresh air was needed. Emergently.

Youngbae followed him out of the lift. Jiyong heard his shoes squeak on the floor as he observed his own, not raising his head to look where he was going. Even if he was blind, he would still find the way out.

Only when he heard the front door open did he finally look up, preparing himself to greet the person who was coming in. However, words died in his throat the moment he saw who that person was.

He recognised Seunghyun even when he was wearing a big furred hood of his jacket. He recognised his posture, stiff back and head held low as if he was looking at the ground and not ahead. He recognised the sound of his footsteps. No one walked like Seunghyun. Jiyong would always hear him approaching his bed in the middle of the night, even if he was alone in his apartment. He recognised his smell: the heavy mixture of cologne and cigarettes. Seunghyun must have been smoking outside or on his way to the headquarters.

Hence, Jiyong knew it was Seunghyun. But when the hood was removed from the older man’s head, he held his breath, feeling as if he was pushed into the freezing water of a night ocean. His lungs contracted and he took a step back, forced by the unrelenting wave of memories that hit him with a power of tsunami.

Seunghyun’s hair was white. It was white just like during their GD&TOP era.

Life flashed in front of his eyes and Jiyong was sure he was drowning for real. It was this stage of dying out of oxygen deprivation when your vision becomes blurry and all you can hear is your own heartbeat and this annoying ringing in your ears. And you get those visions. It seems that the past is now and now is the past. Past mingles with future, memories with dreams. Everything is so real, but simultaneously, it’s just a mirage. A delusion of a light in the tunnel. A fake beam in a kaleidoscope of sickeningly colourful images.

Suddenly, he was back in Seunghyun’s arms. They were cuddling in his hyung’s bed, Jiyong’s fingers invariably tangled with the older man’s white hair. He was lying half-asleep on Seunghyun’s bare chest with his heart thumping steadily right under Jiyong’s ear. That perfect beat lulled him to sleep and kept him awake at the same time. He didn’t mind it all, as long as they were able to rest together after another tiring day of promoting. Seunghyun’s loving embrace healed Jiyong’s exhaustion, sore hands and legs, achy ribs and back. It was better than any massage or a warm bath. Being with him was enough to push the pain to the back of his consciousness. The man he loved was the only medicine he needed.

Jiyong wished he could use that medicine now or on any other day he was so overworked. That basically meant every day. But Seunghyun’s arms were no longer there for him. Jiyong exchanged them for a pair of skinny female hands, skin on bones. Bones that clashed against his own and made his pain and yearning even less bearable. She would never manage to heal him like Seunghyun could.

“Hyung. Hi,” said Youngbae, breaking the cumbersome silence.

Jiyong hadn’t even realised the three of them were staring at each other without saying anything. He looked to the side, checking if the porter was in his usual spot and witnessed this exchange of awkwardness between the members of the same band. However, he wasn’t there. Jiyong assumed he had run outside to chase away the fans who gathered by the parking lot after following Seunghyun.

His eyes returned to Seunghyun, but he escaped his glance, moving his gaze from Jiyong to  Youngbae. He nodded at him.

“Hi. What’s up?” he replied.

His voice was the last thing Jiyong needed to make sure that Seunghyun is real. The white-haired Seunghyun spoke. His hair didn’t turn back to black. It seemed that he had really done it. He had dyed his hair white.

Was it really white? Jiyong squinted to take a closer look. In this light, his hair seemed yellowish. It reminded Jiyong of this whipped cream they used in the cafe just around the corner. It was a spiced gingerbread whipped cream and it looked just like Seunghyun’s hair. Not white yet not blonde at the same time.

“Nothing much,” said Youngbae, continuing his small-talk with their hyung. “We were in the studio all day-”

His words faded away in Jiyong’s comprehension, because he had much more interesting internal conversation going on. Conversation that concerned all the probable reasons why Seunghyun might have made such a decision. The last one on the list of all the possibilities was their comeback as a duo. Jiyong could dream about it, but he knew it would never happen. Even such things as Seunghyun recognised the superiority of Aryan race, He wanted to look like Andy Warhol and His manager asked him to dye his hair because he would always get lost in the crowd too easily ranked higher than that on Jiyong’s list. He would have to ask hyung about it, there was no other way to find out. Well, Youngbae could do it, too.

Jiyong looked at him, and as if on cue, Youngbae asked, “So, why did you dye your hair, Hyung? I bet you finally got jealous of my hair colour, didn’t you?”

For a short while, Jiyong considered applauding him for that question, but in the end sent him a mental bouquet of flowers expressing his appreciation. At least, their nonverbal communication worked as well as it was supposed to.

Seunghyun chuckled in his usual low and warm manner. “That’s for a secret project I’m working on,” he replied, not betraying anything.

“Honestly, you won’t tell us about it?” Jiyong spoke all of sudden. “Your bandmates and… friends?”

Both Seunghyun and Youngbae looked at him in surprise, not only because it was the first thing Jiyong said, but also because of the tone of his voice which didn’t manage to hide his aggravation.

Seunghyun opened up his mouth to speak but no word came out of it, so he pressed his lips back together into a thin line. He stared at Jiyong, looking for any explanation for his sudden outburst in the younger man’s expression. He’s so stupid, Jiyong thought. He must have realised what that hair reminded Jiyong of. If not, he was really an idiot. A big idiot Seunghyun.

“Oh!” Youngbae gasped and clasped his hand against his forehead. “I totally forgot Teddy Hyung wanted me to grab something from the media room for him,” he said so quickly that Jiyong was surprised his tongue didn’t tie itself in knots by accident. “I’ll be right back…,” he mumbled, refusing to look at his best friend. Cheeky bastard.

He ran away at a speed of light, leaving Jiyong and Seunghyun alone.

“What is your problem?” Seunghyun nearly growled. That was like a knife pushed straight into Jiyong’s heart. It only increased his annoyance.

“What is your problem, Hyung?” he echoed.

If any of them had a problem, it was definitely Seunghyun. He indeed had a serious mental problem that prevented him from making obvious assumptions. And probably caused memory loss as well.

“What’s with that hair?” Jiyong snarled. “That’s for a secret project you say? A secret project aiming for what? Destroying me right before Christmas?”

Before he could stop himself, he sprang toward Seunghyun, ready to slap him or hit him. But his hand was stopped midair by the older man’s strong grip.

“Are you insane, Jiyong?” Seunghyun’s eyebrows knit together as he frowned.

“Who is insane? Me? No! You’re insane,” Jiyong snarled through gritted teeth.

At the same time, he internally begged Seunghyun to let go of his hand, so that he could step back. They hadn’t been this close for a longer while. It didn’t have a good effect on Jiyong who with every second was becoming more and more irritated.

“We won’t argue about this. Not here, not now,” Seunghyun told him calmly, his gaze never leaving the smaller man’s face.

“So when? And where? We hardly ever talk anyway!”

At this point, Jiyong was shaking with anger. His coat seemed so heavy in his other hand that he almost threw it to the ground.

“Calm down, Jiyong.” Seunghyun could not oversee Jiyong’s reaction. He let go of his hand and placed his hands on Jiyong’s shoulders. “It’s nothing you should be bothered by. It’s for a new film.”

Jiyong scowled. A new film? And he shouldn’t be bothered by it? Of course he was. Seunghyun would be filming again which delayed their comeback for another few months. How could he not be bothered as a leader? Apart from that, he was bothered as a person, a human being with feelings. He would start seeing Seunghyun less often once again. He knew he couldn’t have him, but having him close was enough; looking at him, listening to him speak, watching him fool around.

“Stop overthinking,” Seunghyun said. “I can see your head steam. Relax.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Jiyong replied and pouted. He opposed everything Seunghyun told him, but in fact, his calmness affected the younger man. “Instead, tell me about that damned film,” he added more sedately.

Seunghyun rolled his eyes. “Not now,” he refused again. “There are better things to do under the mistletoe than talking about work.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jiyong retorted, but instead waiting for Seunghyun’s answer, he looked up to check himself.

His jaw almost dropped at the sight of the ceiling that was covered with garlands made of silver fir branches, tinsel, yellow Christmas lights, and, of course, mistletoes. He felt a sudden urge to kill Hyunsuk for that. Or punish himself for not noticing it earlier. It must have appeared there sometime during the day. Jiyong was sure he hadn’t seen it in the morning. The warm lights also explained why Seunghyun’s hair looked so yellowish.

“So… what are we going to do about it?” Jiyong mumbled, lowering his eyes to watch the corner of Seunghyun’s mouth kick up into a lopsided grin. All his anger disappeared under a heavy layer of pent-up excitement. Seunghyun might have been only teasing him, but his wildly beating heart hoped he wouldn’t waste such an occasion.

“What choice do we have?” Seunghyun asked with a sigh that sounded like he felt forced to do it. Jiyong knew it wasn’t true. Seunghyun was playing around, as always, making use of his acting skills.

No one makes you do it, Jiyong wanted to say, but Seunghyun didn’t give him time to do that.

He leant in and pressed his lips against Jiyong’s for the first time in forever. They were soft and smooth, just like Jiyong remembered them, and still a bit cold. The younger man wanted to warm them up, to deepen the kiss, but he knew he was not allowed to. Seunghyun wasn’t his anymore, or rather, he wasn’t Seunghyun’s. All he could do was timidly kiss him back, move his lips just a little bit, to feel that old familiar spark of electricity running between them.

Tears started gathering under his lids. He wasn’t sure if they were tears of regret or of happiness, but either way, they made Jiyong realise he should pull back and step away from Seunghyun before he could do something stupid. Just as he thought, he withdrew himself, feeling the cold air on his lips the moment they left Seunghyun’s. His breath hitched when he wanted to say something and before he could even pronounce the word hyung, he was being kissed again.

Seunghyun’s hands moved from Jiyong’s shoulders and cupped his small face, bringing the boy even closer. This time not only their lips but also tongues met and their reunion was far from being diffident or shy. They kissed fervently, being aware that it might be their last time. Jiyong tried not to think about that now, but it wasn’t a hard task. He was utterly concentrated on absorbing Seunghyun with all his senses. He didn’t close his eyes, keeping them wide open just to be able to observe the taller man’s handsome face and his focused expression.  Seunghyun’s lips were no longer cold and Jiyong was proud he took care of them himself. He wished he could be in charge of that every day.

The sound of the door being opened made them separate and when the porter crossed the threshold they were already in a safe proximity away from each other.

The man bowed to them, probably purposely ignoring the sight of their flushed cheeks and reddened lips. Jiyong didn’t care, to be honest. All that mattered was the fact that he and Seunghyun kissed. And how did they kiss! It all seemed like a dream. Jiyong wanted to pinch himself just to make sure it was reality and the man who kissed him was the present-day Seunghyun, and not his younger version from four years ago. It was entirely the fault of his white hair.

“Merry Christmas, Kwon Jiyong,” Seunghyun said with a proud smirk. He his heel and directed his steps toward the staircase. He didn’t look back and Jiyong was grateful for that. If he had done so, Jiyong would have pulled out the phone from the pocket of his trousers immediately and send her a message he kept saved in drafts for months now.

All it said was, It’s over.

One more kiss under the mistletoe would be enough to make him press the SEND button.