Seungri is a star.  Never mind that he’s the only one who seems to think so.  It’s not his fault people are blind.  But that’s okay.  No big deal.  He’ll show them.  He’ll show them just like he showed the president after he got cut the first time around.  If he can change Hyunsuk’s mind, he can change anyone’s mind.

He’s distracted from his thoughts by the sound of Jiyong’s high-pitched giggles.  His eyes slant to the side where Jiyong and Seunghyun are sitting beside him in the backseat of the YG van, Jiyong wedged in the middle.  Jiyong’s grin is stretched to his ears, so wide Seungri can see his gums.  He looks further over to see what’s so funny and sees Seunghyun using his finger to draw a in the condensation on the foggy side window.  Jiyong giggles again and slaps his hand against the glass to wipe it away.  Seunghyun snickers as Jiyong laughs into his shoulder.

Seungri stares at them, unimpressed.  There you have it, ladies and gentlemen.  The two most popular members of their fledgling group.  The rappers of Big Bang.  Awesome.

He’s jealous, if he’s being honest.  He works harder than anyone.  Because that’s how people succeed, right?  Hard work equals success.  Or rather, that’s how it’s supposed to work.

See, Jiyong’s popularity he can understand.  Jiyong’s been working for this his entire life.  He’s had more training than anyone, and it shows.  He’s the most comfortable in front of a camera, the most at ease on stage.  And he’s good at everything.  Dancing, tumbling, rapping, singing, writing…he even dresses well.  He’s the whole package, and Seungri’s not ashamed to admit that he looks up to him for it.  Out of all his hyungs, Jiyong’s the one he follows most closely because it’s like Jiyong’s learned the secret to success, and if Seungri just trails him long enough, maybe he can learn it, too.  Or maybe Jiyong will finally deign to share it with him.

Seunghyun, on the other hand?  It’s like he just woke up one day, threw on yesterday’s hoodie and decided to become famous.  Just because.  He’s lazy and loud, and he spends more time clowning around than actually practicing, but everyone loves him. 

Seungri remembers all too well the day when their president announced the members who’d made the cut, the day he wasn’t chosen.  Jiyong and Youngbae were called first, of course.  No matter how much Hyunsuk had threatened, no one believed for a second that those two wouldn’t make it.  Daesung got the next spot, and Seungri’s a big enough person to acknowledge that Daesung deserved it.

But when it came down to the last member, Seunghyun was chosen.  Not based on progress but based on need.  Hyunsuk thought Seunghyun was indispensable.  Necessary.  He had this unique voice and intense look and a striking presence that had nothing to do with effort.  Some innate quality that Hyunsuk just had to have for the group.  So yeah, Seungri’s jealous.  He wants to learn everything he can, but he’s not sure how he can learn that. 

So he sticks to shadowing Jiyong.  Because Jiyong’s all effort – amazing, polished effort – and if Seungri works hard enough, he can become that, too.

“Hyung?” Seungri says, and Jiyong stops play-fighting with Seunghyun long enough to glance his way.  “Can I borrow your shirt for our next interview?”  Jiyong should know which one he’s talking about; he caught Seungri trying to commandeer it earlier today.

Jiyong narrows his eyes at him and looks him up and down.  “No.”

“But Hyung,” Seungri cajoles, busting out the aegyo because Jiyong seems to like him best when he’s being cute.

Jiyong’s smile widens as his eyes flick over Seungri’s pouting face.  “No,” he says again, and Seungri glowers.  Jiyong’s so selfish.  He never wants to share.

Seungri’s just about to try again, but he’s already lost Jiyong’s attention.  Jiyong’s looking back toward Seunghyun, laughing wildly as their hyung draws silly faces in the unblemished corners of the window.  Seungri’s glower deepens at Jiyong’s laugh.  It’s not that funny.

When they arrive at their dorm, there’s a small crowd of girls waiting for them, some holding signs, others holding gifts.  They all have huge beaming smiles on their faces, noses and cheeks pink from the cold.

Youngbae and Daesung are the first to get out since they’re sitting in the seats in front of them, but when Seungri tries to follow after them, Jiyong smirks and shoves him back down into his seat. 

“So rude,” he tsks.  “The maknae should let the hyungs go first.”  Then he flicks Seungri’s ear and crawls out of the van.  Seunghyun smiles and shrugs and follows after him.

Seungri huffs.  Being the maknae .  He sniffs and gets out of the van.

“Maknae, hold this.”  Jiyong plops his bag into Seungri’s arms so his own hands are free to accept the gifts the fangirls are ing his way.  The bag is big and expensive-looking, a gift from a different fan, if Seungri’s not mistaken.

Seungri watches as most of the girls fawn over Jiyong and Seunghyun.  Jiyong smiles, smug, like he’s entitled to their attention, and Seunghyun ducks his head and shuffles from side to side.

Several of the girls ask Seungri for his autograph, and a few are even holding a placard with his name on it, but none of them have a gift for him.  The gifts are almost always exclusively for Jiyong and Seunghyun, and Seungri feels the jealousy creep up inside him all over again.  He wants to be the popular one.  He wants to be the one all the fans rave about.

The other members smile and wave as they duck into the building, and Seungri trails after them a beat later.  Right before the door closes behind him, a girl calls out, “Wait!”

Seungri pauses and looks back toward her.  She comes to an abrupt halt right in front of him, panting like she’s been running.  She’s still in her school uniform, hair tied back with a pretty red ribbon, powder blue mittens warming her hands.  She meets his eyes before blushing and lowering her gaze.  There’s a little wrapped box in her hands, which she s out toward him.

Seungri looks down at it in ill-concealed surprise and then growing happiness.  His name is written in neat handwriting on the top:  Seunghyun.  He gingerly takes it from her fingers, but once he does, her thumb moves the rest of the way from the label, revealing the rest of the name:  Choi.

The girl bites down on her lip.  “Can you please give this to Top-oppa?”

Seungri feels a boulder of disappointment settle heavily in his gut.  “Yeah.  No problem.”  He gives her an awkward bow before backing the rest of the way into the building and closing the door behind him.  He sighs.  He’s just going to have to work harder.

When he reaches their dorm, Daesung’s in the kitchen filling up the rice cooker, and Youngbae’s lounging on the couch.  He doesn’t see Seunghyun in the common area so he heads to the room the eldest three share.  He knocks a couple of times before Jiyong answers.

“What do you want?” Jiyong says, only pretending to glare.  Music pours out of the room, a heavy, gritty beat by some American rapper Seungri doesn’t know the name of. 

Seungri tries to step over the threshold, but Jiyong blocks him.  He raises his hand up so Seungri can see the can of beer he’s holding.  “You can’t come in.  The adults are busy.”

Seungri scowls at the smug look on Jiyong’s face.

“Busy!” Seunghyun calls out helpfully, cracking open the tab of his beer and chugging it down.  Jiyong giggles against the side of the doorframe like it’s the most amazing sight he’s ever seen. 

Seungri just stares at them.  Why does he want to be like these two idiots again?  He’s just about to turn over the box he’s holding when he sees all the other gifts fanned out around Seunghyun on his bed.  The last thing he wants to do is contribute to their fun.  Seungri decides he’ll give it to him later when they’re not being insufferable.

“Never mind,” Seungri says, backing away.  “I forgot what I was going to say.”

Jiyong rolls his eyes.  He looks like he’s about to question Seungri about it, but then Seunghyun starts rapping something about bananas, and Jiyong bursts out laughing and pushes the door back shut.

His hyungs are so weird.

Seungri’s mercurial mood carries over to the next day.  He’s propped halfway up on his pillow in bed, reading all about Winning and Success and other things important enough to him to deserve a capital letter.  If Jiyong’s not going to give him the keys to the kingdom, he’ll figure it out himself.

He’s trying to make the most of his time alone in the room before Daesung decides to come to bed.  That’s another annoying thing he’s had to get used to, not only sharing a room but sharing a bed.  It’s just one more way the hyungs have it better than he does.  Sure, there’s three of them in their bedroom, but at least they all have separate mattresses.

He’s just started a new book, and he’s halfway through a lecture on being proactive when Jiyong pushes his door open without knocking and plops down beside him on the mattress.

“I’m bored,” Jiyong whines.

Seungri pushes his reading glasses up the bridge of his nose and turns the page.  Maybe if he ignores him, he’ll go away.

Jiyong collapses the rest of the way onto the mattress with a loud, put upon sigh.  When Seungri still doesn’t turn his way, he lets out this whiny groan that serves no purpose other than to call attention to himself.  He kicks his feet back and forth against the mattress when Seungri still won’t look at him.

“Your room’s a mess,” Jiyong nags, but Seungri just shrugs.  He’s used to Jiyong’s nagging, and it’s not like his room is the worst in the house, so whatever.  If it were up to Seunghyun, their floor would be perpetually carpeted in baggy jeans and hoodies.

Jiyong huffs.  “I’m thirsty.”  When Seungri’s eyes still don’t leave his book, he says it again.  “I’m thirsty.”

Voice free of intonation, Seungri replies, “You had to walk past the kitchen to get here.  Why didn’t you just get yourself something then?”

He chances a look at Jiyong out of the corner of his eye and sees the deepening of his pout.  “I wasn’t thirsty then.”

Seungri fights the urge to roll his eyes, skimming over the page for the spot where he left off.  When Jiyong sees that Seungri isn’t going to indulge him this time, he drops the pout and simply orders him, “Maknae.  Go get me something to drink.”

Seungri tries to hold in his sigh.  Did he mention that being the maknae ?  It’s basically an excuse to force him into servitude.  Jiyong and Youngbae are the worst about it, playfully bullying him, making him run their errands, all the while snickering and reminiscing about all the Se7en used to make them do, telling Seungri that they’re letting him off easy in comparison, as if Seungri should be grateful for that.

At least that’s one thing that’s nice about Daesung and Seunghyun as hyungs.  Daesung hardly talks to him, much less orders him about, and Seunghyun is just…chill.  He never seems to play the age card unless he thinks Seungri is being particularly annoying that day, but even then, it’s not to make Seungri do things for him.

Jiyong digs a sharp elbow into the curve of Seungri’s ribs.  “I’m still waiting for that drink.”

Seungri tries to keep his frustration from showing because he knows if it does, Jiyong will pounce.  His hyung will see it as just the opening he needs to pester and bully him until he finally bores himself of it.  “Why don’t you go bug someone else?” Seungri says, voice neutral, idly turning the page.

Jiyong gives a little shrug.  “Seunghyun-hyung’s in one of his moods.  He’s sitting in the dark listening to jazz or something.”  Jiyong’s pout comes back at that.

Seungri waits to hear why Jiyong can’t hang out with one of the others, but Jiyong doesn’t say.  Seungri’s not sure if it even occurred to him to try someone other than Hyung.

Not for the first time, Seungri thinks how much better it would be to be one of the hyungs.  If he was older than Jiyong, he could send him on his way like Seunghyun must’ve done.  Then, he could read his book in peace.

Jiyong digs his elbow in again, and Seungri closes his eyes, because really, what crime did he commit in his past life to be saddled with such a spoiled little prince?  It must’ve been truly awful because Jiyong’s staring at him with one haughty eyebrow raised, daring Seungri not to do what he says.

Seungri finally lets out the sigh he’s been holding in.  He carefully marks his page with a bookmark and rolls out of bed, heading for the kitchen.  When he gets back, Jiyong’s sitting up against the wall, perusing Seungri’s book.

Seungri sits back down on the mattress.  “Here,” he says, holding out a bottle of water.

Jiyong gestures at an empty spot on the floor.  “You can just set it there.”

Seungri looks down at the floor and back up to Jiyong.  Really?  After all that, Jiyong’s not even going to take a drink?  Seungri slowly lowers the bottle before letting it land with an exasperated thud.  Jiyong’s eyes glance over to the source of the sound and then flit up to his face.  And there it is.  Seungri can see the small, calculated smirk curling around Jiyong’s lips. 

“Am I bothering you?” Jiyong asks, eyes lit up like a Cheshire cat’s.

Seungri nearly groans.  He just wants to read his book.  “No.”

“Good,” Jiyong smiles, and Seungri nearly wilts.  Jiyong pats the space beside him on the bed, and like a man headed for the gallows, Seungri accepts his fate, crawling the rest of the way onto the mattress.  Jiyong shoves him down and then snatches the pillow out from under his head.  He drops it on Seungri’s stomach and plops his head down on it.  “Comfortable?” Jiyong asks.

Seungri does groan this time.  Loudly and unhappily.  Jiyong lifts his head up and slams it back down, driving the back of his skull into the pillow over the soft fleshy part of Seungri’s abdomen.  Seungri groans again, and Jiyong laughs. 

“I think I’ll stay here tonight,” Jiyong says.  He raises the book up over his head.  “Read this to me.”  Jiyong lets go of the book, and Seungri barely has time to block it from falling on his face.

Ugh.  This would hardly be the first time Jiyong stayed in his room.  He has a propensity for cuddling up to whomever is paying him the most attention at any given moment, but why does he have to be such a brat about it?

“What about Daesung-hyung?  This is his bed, too.  Where’s he gonna sleep?”

He can feel Jiyong shrug.  “I dunno.  He’ll figure it out.”

Seungri takes the book in hand and stares up at the ceiling for a lengthy moment, considering.  “If I let you stay, can I borrow your shirt?”

Jiyong wiggles around to get more comfortable.  “No.”

Figures.

There must be something wrong with Seungri.  He has no idea why Jiyong’s his favorite.  Maybe he has Stockholm syndrome.

They wind up falling asleep like that, Jiyong snuggled against his tummy, the self-help book open and planted over Seungri’s face to block the light from his eyes.  At some point in the night, Jiyong rolls off of him, and bleary-eyed, Seungri gets up to turn off the light. 

On his way to the switch, his eyes land on the pretty little box from the fan – damn, he forgot to hand it over today – and curiosity gets the better of him.  The box is fairly small, like a jewelry box, maybe.  Seungri holds it up to his ear and shakes it, listening to the rattle of whatever’s inside.

And then he opens it.  Yeah, yeah, he knows he shouldn’t.  But it’s not like he plans on stealing it.  He and Seunghyun have the same name so he’ll just pretend like he thought it was for him.

Seungri tears open the wrapping paper and opens the box, and what the hell?

It’s a rock.  A pebble, really.

Seungri upturns the box to see if that’s all there is to it, and a little slip of paper flutters to the floor.  He picks it up and reads it.

Apparently, this isn’t just any rock.  It’s a piece of a wishing rock.  A piece of the famous wishing rock from Yongin, to be exact, where people scribble their wishes on scraps of paper and tie them to the rock hoping they’ll come true.

That’s…sweet, Seungri guesses.  The fan’s note says she sincerely hopes Seunghyun’s wishes come true, and Seungri snorts.  Seunghyun doesn’t need any wishes; he already has more than enough.  Seriously, Seungri would kill to be in his place.  To have everything so easy instead of having to work this damn hard.  Seungri wishes for it with everything inside him.

But, of course, nothing happens.  It’s just a rock.  Seungri puts it and the note back in the box and heads back to bed, pushing at Jiyong until he’s right up against the wall so Seungri can have some space.

When Seungri starts to wake, his eyes slowly flutter open.  The space beside him is empty so his sleep-addled brain assumes that Jiyong got up already, which is weird; Jiyong’s usually the last to get up.

But then he frowns.  Because that’s not his blanket.  And that’s not his tattered old stuffed animal in his arms.  It’s Seunghyun raggedy panda?

Seungri looks around and sees that it’s not just Hyung’s oversized stuffed panda he has, it’s his entire room.  Somehow he’s managed to crawl into Seunghyun’s bed and go to sleep.  Weird.  He never thought he was a sleepwalker.  Either that or his hyungs are messing with him.

He rolls out of bed and is dismayed to see that he’s even in Seunghyun’s clothes.  He makes a grumpy noise and rubs the sleep out of his eyes.  Whatever.  Youngbae’s still asleep in the middle mattress, but Jiyong’s is empty, and his bed is made.  That probably means Jiyong and Seunghyun are the masterminds behind this.  They’re probably off somewhere laughing their heads off at his expense.

On the way to the door, he has to stop and shake out his legs.  He feels…weird.  Everything looks just a little bit off, but he can’t quite figure out why.

Daesung’s in the kitchen working on breakfast.  “Morning, Hyung,” he says with a cheerful smile.

Seungri stares at him, even more weirded out.  Daesung never smiles at him like that.  “What did you call me?”

“Hyung?” Daesung repeats, unsure.

Seungri almost asks him why, but then he waves it off, sure that Daesung is just going along with whatever stupid prank his hyungs are playing on him.  “Yeah, okay.”

He stretches his arms above his head, taken aback when the tips of his fingers brush against the ceiling.  Wow.  He must’ve had a growth spurt.  He didn’t know he was tall enough to do that.

Seungri pushes open the door to his room.  His hyungs are bound to be in here or Jiyong’s little studio room, but the sight that greets him makes Seungri freeze in his tracks.  Jiyong’s in the room, all right.  He’s still sleeping, cuddled up against the wall right where Seungri left him.

And he’s lying beside…himself?

Seungri blinks once, then twice, sure his eyes are playing tricks on him.  He takes a couple steps closer to get a better look, but the closer he gets, the more sure he is.  That’s his face.  It looks too real to be a mask, so…makeup?

Seungri pokes at the person’s face – his face – but all he feels is skin.  The imposter’s eyes open up at the touch, and Seungri shuffles back, a surprised yelp breaking past his lips, only it’s all wrong; the voice is deep and gravelly and most decidedly not his.

The imposter’s eyes widen, in surprise or maybe fear.  Seungri can’t tell because this situation is all too ed up, and he’s dreaming, he must be dreaming, there’s no other explanation, except that when he pinches his arm, he doesn’t wake up.  He pinches it harder, but the imposter’s still there.

Jiyong crankily raises his head up.  “What the hell?  I’m trying to sleep.”

The imposter scrambles up until he’s sitting and grabs at Jiyong, gesturing frantically at Seungri.  “It’s an alien!”

Seungri’s jaw drops, and he points back, just as frantic.  “You’re the alien!  You’re a fake!”  But he says it in that same deep voice from earlier, which is definitely not his.  Seungri clears his throat, hoping it’ll fix his voice, but it does no good.

Jiyong looks back and forth between them with narrowed eyes before using his arms and legs to bodily push the other Seungri off the mattress.  “It’s too early for this,” Jiyong grumps, rolling over and planting his head back on the pillow.

The imposter pulls himself up to his feet and stares at Seungri warily.  Only now that they’re both standing, Seungri can see that this thing who’s wearing his face has to look up to meet his eyes.  They’re not the same height at all so how can they be twin copies?

And there’s still the issue of his voice.

Seungri looks down at himself, really looks this time, and sees that it’s not just that he’s wearing Seunghyun’s clothes, the clothes fit him.  But that doesn’t make sense; he’s way smaller than Seunghyun-hyung.

And the voice.  A niggling suspicion enters his mind, but no, that’s too crazy.  There’s no way they could’ve…

“Hyung?” he says, and now he can recognize it.  It sounds a little different since he’s the one who’s using it, but it’s undoubtedly Seunghyun’s voice. 

He’s in Seunghyun’s body. 

And Seunghyun’s in his.