SEUNGHYUN POV

I wait behind the sliding door to the balcony from my room. It sounds like a stalker but I can’t help it. I’ve been observing for a couple of days, she used to come out to the balcony for a smoke break around midnight.

In my defence, I had no intention to stalk or peep, I was sipping on my wine on my balcony when I saw her coming out to her balcony the other night, with a box of cigarette in her hand. But she turned around and went back in once she saw me standing by the balustrade. I didn’t even have a chance to say a word before she disappeared from my sight.

The night after, I saw her smoking on her balcony when I was about to walk out. My hand stopped sliding the door when her reaction the night before came to my mind. I sighed and retreated to my bedroom. She’s still mad at me, and as much as I wish to extend my apology, it’s understandable that she needed time to cool off.

So I observe. She’ll be there, every night, with her cigarettes. She’s not a heavy smoker though, usually one, sometimes two.

She’s got my curiosity. Her reaction to my question makes my existing interest towards her grows even more, not to mention the kid she has with her.

I’m dying to know the story behind, how’d she get to here, why isn’t her husband with her, and why's the kid with her. If he's who i think he is, Questions keep spinning in my mind and it’s driving me insane. That one idea of who the kid is keeps hovering in my heart, and I'm not even sure who got my attention more now, the mom or the kid. Or maybe both.

But the one thing I'm certain of is I'm going to get answers for my questions. Before that I've to make sure she's not mad at me.

Tonight is the night I decide to step forward. I can’t hide behind the curtains forever, God knows how long we’ll be neighbour for. I’d made up my mind, I’ll take one step forward, and if that’s of no avails, I’ll take another, and yet another. One step at a time is not too difficult.

I take a deep breathe, and walk through the door to the balcony. I plaster the friendliest smile I never thought I’ll be able to have, and turn to her balcony.

It’s empty. The door to her bedroom is closed, the light’s off.

So much for my first step.

It’s been a long time since I last wandered along the streets at ease. Nobody is rushing me to move faster, nobody is telling me what my next schedule is, nobody is forming a wall between me and my fans. And nobody is asking me for an autograph (I had my mask on, but people could still make me out back then). Time heals, time kills, huh?

Nevertheless, it doesn’t bother me, not as much as I thought it’d be. I’d spent my last decade living under public’s eyes, I deserve some private time, and I’m enjoying it.

So here I’m, spending my day in Hongdae, alone, but not lonely. I’ll still have my mask and cap on whenever I’m on the street, but now that I’m in a café, and I’m the only one taking the balcony seat, I don’t bother putting my disguise on.

I take a sip on my Americano and observe people passing by down the street. Some of them are carrying their music instrument. I can hear them humming tunes when they pass by. A smile forms on my lips. One of the reasons of Hongdae being my favourite hangout place, is the people here. Everyone looks so energetic, so hopeful, so driven to chase their dreams.

I used to be one of them. But now, I don’t know anymore. My love to music didn’t cease, and it never will. But I doubt if I should stay in this industry. It’s a known secret that on-stage life is limited, especially the entertainment industry in Korea. I’m now in my thirties, two of my members are serving the country, and the other two will be joining soon. I hate to admit it but it’s probably time for me to be realistic. What can I do when I’m not singing, not rapping on stage? I can’t imagine myself being anywhere else other than on stage and in studio, can’t imagine myself doing anything else other than singing, rapping with my members.

“Iced Americano, please.”

The voice snaps me back to the reality, I know that voice. I turn to where the voice comes from. It’s indeed her. We lock eyes and she diverts her eyes a second later.

“First step,” I remind myself.

I stand up from my seat as the waiter takes her order. “The same for me, thanks,” I say to the waiter when he’s about to leave. “Yes, sir,” he bows slightly and retreats from the balcony.

“Hi! Didn’t expect to see you here,” I try to sound as cheerful as possible to hide the awkwardness beneath my smile, “May I join you?” I take the seat across her before she could answer.

“Why bother asking when your is already glued to the seat?”

Guys, a friendly reminder for you, a rose is beautiful, but it’s thorny too.

My phone rings before I could strike back.

I frown when I look at the caller’s ID, but I answer the call anyway, I’m a good hyung.

“Hyung~~~” a whiny voice comes from the other end of the line.

“Seungri ya, I told you I need time to think about this.”

“But I can’t get it done without your help, my lyrics will never be as good as yours. You gave me the idea, don’t you remember, hyung?”

I regret bringing up his solo album the other day now, but I can’t blame him, preparing a solo album is no joke, that’s why I never released one before.

“Alright listen, I’ll stop by the studio tomorrow, but I don’t guarantee I can be helpful, ok uri maknae?” I compromise when I know he must be pouting. And I know just how stubborn our maknae can be, he won’t give up unless he has my word. I don’t want my phone explodes from receiving too many calls, I bought it the day I was discharged.

“Ready to rock the kpop world, TOP-ssi?” she says when I end the call. She’s not hiding her sarcasm.

Well, two can play the game.

“Nah, I hip-hop,” I catch a glint of awe in her eyes as I start to beatbox, not forgetting to emphasize a “yo!” in the end of my performance.

She’s astonished, I’m positive. I lift my chin a little in proud.

We both stay in silence, looking at each other in the eyes, as if having an eye staring contest.

As time passes, our gazes softened and we burst out laughing at the same time.

“Still got it in you huh?” she smiles at me, it makes my heart feels warm.

“It’s my born gift,” I smile back.

She raises a brow, “Guess someone wasn’t born with humility.” 

The waiter comes and settles our drinks on the table. We both bow slightly as gratitude when he leaves. We reach for the drinks and drink from the straw in sync, as if we are the reflection on the mirror.

I chew on the straw as my fingers tapping on my lap

“Just say it, will you?” my little brain reprimands its owner.

“I’m…”

“No,” she cuts me off. I look at her questioningly.

“But I…”

“No, just no,” she repeats.

I’m dying to explain how sorry I’m for what happened the other night, that I didn’t mean anything when I asked her that question, but words are stuck in my throat.

 “Do you remember how many times you have apologized to me? I think I start to miss the arrogant side of you,” she puts her arms on the table, “If that’s about the question you asked, buy me lunch and we are even.”

When I open my mouth she adds, “And don’t say sorry again,” I keep my mouth shut.

And that’s the most enjoyable lunch I’ve ever had since I was discharged. We chat on almost anything, our favourite movies, songs, how I messed up on stage, how she messed up at work…… We didn’t know each other for long but I feel comfortable around her.

I turn to her balcony and look down at my watch. It’s over midnight and still there’s no sign of her. I pour myself another glass of wine. It’s my second bottle of tonight. Is she avoiding me, again? But I bought her lunch, we’re even now right?

When I’m about to stand up from my chair, I heard the door slides open. I sit back down and lay my head back immediately, eyes looking at the sky, as if I’ve been doing that for hours.

Okay, what should I do now? Should I look at her? What should I say to her? Hi? How’s your day? Why are you late? Did you go on a date? Why am I acting like a love struck teenager???

“How did it go?” she says nonchalantly while lighting up a cigarette.

“Sorry?”

“At the studio, with your…” she frowns, as if trying to recall something, “Maknae?”

Ah, that.

“Seungri? It’s fun. But I wasn’t being helpful, nothing good came out today. I guess I’m getting rusty,” I say as I finish my glass.

“Rusty?” she shoots me a glare of disbelief, “That’s not what I saw yesterday.”

I lift my head to look at the sky. The scenes in studio yesterday flash back in.

Daesung and Seungri jumped in excitement when I walked in the studio. They embraced me in their arms. We spent the whole morning catching up with each other. When they finally settled down in the black leather couch to get back to the songs they’re working on, I walked around the studio, ran my fingers over the recording instruments, the rolling chairs, the mic stand in the recording room. Everything is the same as the day I left for enlistment, even Teddy Hyung’s still using the same funny coffee mug with “I put the PRO in PROcrastination” printed on it.

Nothing has changed. I sighed when I realised that maybe it’s me who has changed after all.

“Don’t give up just yet,” her voice brings me back from my train of thought.

I turn my head to her, our gazes meet.

“Obsessive thinking, inability to plan beyond the moment, tendency to isolate yourself from everything around you, inability to socialize. In short, Social-Sensory Deprivation Syndrome,” she takes a drag on her cigarette and exhales before continues, “I thought that happens only to those served a long time in prison, I guess it happens to the armies too, huh?”

I’m by her voluminous knowledge. In fact, I didn’t understand a thing that she’s just said. What syndrome was that again?

But she’s right about that, whatever syndrome it is. I’ve been thinking since I came back, obsessively, but nothing comes out. I’m in a quandary of going back in this industry, or stepping out. About the tendency to isolate myself, I think that holds true as well. I feel disconnected from this world. I’ve spent two years in the army and a hell lot could have happened in two years. I feel dropped behind.

“Hey, are you listening?” she’s now standing by the side railing, a concerned look on her face.

I walk over so we’re facing each other now. “I guess I just needed some time,” I smile weakly.

“Believe it or not, I understand how you feel right now. Don’t worry, you’ll get through it.”

“But how?” I ask in confusion.

She her head in one side, seems to be thinking, “Work your off, or play your off, your life, your choice.”

I replay her words in my mind again, and again. Then something strikes me hard. Why didn’t that come to my mind before?

“You know what,” a smirk forms on my lips, “I’ll do both of them, I’ll work and play my off.”

It’s her turns to look at me with that inquiring look, but I’ve a call to make. I turn around and walk towards the door. When I think of something I stop and turn my head to her, “I owe you one!” I wink at her before disappearing behind the sliding door.

The next morning I’m sitting in Sajangnim’s office. I’ve called him yesterday in the middle of the night, right after the conversation with Leena.

“It’s almost 3am for ’s sake Seunghyun!” he groaned over the phone.

“I’ll do it!” I can’t hide my excitement.

“Are you drunk? What the hell are you talking about?”

“The photo album, I’ll do it!”

I chuckle as I think about how widely awake my Sajangnim was after that sentence. And here I’m, sitting across him, scanning the lengthy contract that’s about to bring me to the place I desire.

“What made you change your mind?”

“I need to feed myself,” I say as I keep my eyes on the contract.

“And just two days ago you said you’ve earned enough for the rest of your life,” he looks at me suspiciously.

I give him a smile, telling him I’m not telling anything, before I flip to the last page, grab a pen sitting on the table and sign. I set the pen down and hand the contract over to him.

“Welcome back, Seunghyun ah,” he extends his hand.

I grab his, “Thank you, Sajangnim, I hope this could be a fresh start.”

I tap my fingers excitedly on the railing. It’s almost midnight. I want her to be the first person to know about this, about my comeback project. I start humming tunes as the tapping of my fingers form a rhythm. The tunes come out surprisingly good, even to my standards. It’s been so long since my last inspiration. I’d locked myself in room for days, trying to squeeze something out from my dried up brain. But everything seems to come out naturally tonight. The melody, even the lyrics.

When I’m constructing the lyrics in my mind, she comes out through the sliding door.

“You look different,” she says the moment she sees me, “Good news?”

I nod excitedly.

“And that will be…?”

“A photo album. It’ll be taken in a couple of countries. The theme will be integrations of human in nature. That sounds cool right? And on top of that, I get to travel around!”

She looks at me, amused.

“What?”

“You’re jabbering again.”

I blush at her words. Was I jabbering? Did I just make a fool of myself?

“Never mind,” she smiles as shakes her head, “What are you waiting for? Come over!”

Am I hearing things? Is this whatever symptom she said it is?

“What?”

“Don’t you wanna celebrate? Come over!” “With your wine,” she adds as an afterthought.

“I’ll leave the front door unlocked, just let yourself in,” she says before walking back into her room.

I pick 2 bottles of Chateau des Tours from my wine cabinet and leave my house. Realisation hits me when I’m right outside her front door, I’m in jeans and hoodie. I shake my head to wave away the thought of going back to get changed. Who cares what I wear in the middle of the night?

I walk carefully through the dark living room, to the kitchen where the dim lighting is coming from. I’ve been here once so I have the position of furniture vaguely in my memory.

I put the bottles of wine on the kitchen counter, while she’s searching for something from the fridge.

“Nothing fancy, but I hope you like it,” I say when she turns around, holding something in her hand.

“That’ll do just fine,” she smiles and approaches me, putting the box on the kitchen counter.

My eyes widen when I get a clear look at the box. Vanilla ice-cream.

She sends me an apologetic smile, “I’m out of cheese, is this fine with you?”

“This is better than cheese.”

Leena POV

“So,” I lifts my glass of wine as we settle down in our chair on the balcony, “Congratulations.” “Thank you,” he lifts his as well and we clink glasses.

His face is beaming and his smile is contagious. It feels like something long dead in him has come back to life again. I’m truly happy for him for he’s got his passion back.

“Tell me about it,” I try to sound nonchalant, hoping my interest is not too obvious.

I can hardly register when he starts talking. I’m looking at him in the eyes but the dark orbs seem to be magnetic. I’m not a fan of his (he’s pretty sure of it by now), and I barely know about Big Bang. I know they’re popular, but that’s pretty much all I know.

When he first told me about the photoshoot, I can’t keep my mind off of it. His sculptured jawline, his thick eye brows, the innocent dimples that are incompatible with the cool look and yet fitted so perfectly on his face. And above it all, the piercing eyes that will draw you to him whenever he looks at you.

Yes, I was imagining him in those photos. I wondered how he would look like.

His scoops a spoonful of ice-cream as he talks incessantly, and sends it to his mouth. I chuckle as he has ice-cream on his lips. He might be the charismatic rapper on stage, but he can be a child. I should have known that, given the astonishing bearbricks collection I witnessed with my own eyes.

I point at his mouth when he looks at me questioningly. He flicks out his tongue and the ice-cream off his lips, as if that’s the most natural thing to do, as if it doesn’t bother him at all. But it does to me.

A man with a tongue like that should keep it in his mouth.

! What am I thinking? This must be the alcohol talking. It has to be.

He scoops a spoon of ice-cream and holds the spoon toward me. “You want some?”