"Hyung! I love you!"

Mere three simple words rang into his ears, and yet, Jiyong found himself thawed to his seat. He was frozen-still, staring at the silver-head in front of him whose eyes glistened from the fluorescent light above. There were obvious tinge of a red tint present to the boy's cheeks, but still, he was torn to think whether it's the alcohol talking or just pure, unscathed truth coming from Seungri's mouth.

"..What?" he managed to breathe out.

As Seungri paused for a moment----gazing at him, as if eyes looking deep within----Jiyong couldn't help but just swallow down a great amount of unease. If it weren't for the television hollering infront, abashing silence would've settled in to the rather nicotine-reeking room.

Gradually, after a few seconds that seemed to last almost an eternity, the boy opens his mouth;

"..Why are you so serious, Hyung?" he asked, frowning.

Then, he grins---he grins widely.

In no time, Jiyong was left with the sight of Seungri indulging himself into laughter; he could only remain flummoxed by it.

"Loosen up, Hyung! I was just fooling around!" he uttered with a hefty breathing, laughing to his heart's content.

As he watched the boy wallow in on his own amusement, Jiyong felt a sultry rush crawl on the back of his neck. 

"Well, ." He finally vexes out. "You're in' kidding?" he said, all hints of displeasure present.

Seungri then halts; but still with a foolish smile plastered all over, he continues; "Sorry! Don't get mad! It's just a joke!" he pleads, patting him on the shoulder.

Jiyong frowns at him; the goading look on the boy's face just won't go away. Still irked, he utters; " off."

Then, Seungri giggles even more. "Are you perhaps a homophobic, Hyung?" he asked, smirking like a fool, teasing him with jeering eyes.

"No, I'm not," he answered with a slight bit force unto it. Glaring at him, Jiyong continues; "I don't like those kinds of jokes," he said, adamant to ride along with the boy's silliness.

Jiyong breathes out a sigh and Seungri breathes out a chuckle. 

"Ehh~ Come on, Hyung~" He clung to Jiyong's arm, grasping onto it tightly, head leaning on the man's shoulder. Still with playful lips, he utters; "Won't you accept my love?"

"Stop that," Jiyong yanks out his arm. "It's uncomfortable, geez!" he exclaimed, a frown edging out of his face.

As he leaned away with a bold display of disgruntle, he warns him once more; "Seriously, stop."

The persistent, lurking smile on the boy's lips then gradually fades out---a glum, desolate look substituted instead; Jiyong felt a sudden twinge. Strangely, an obscure feeling waltzed in to him. There was a weird urge to apologize, but then, a chuckle cascades out of Seungri's mouth; Jiyong was caught off-guard once again.

"Alright, alright," he tittered. "No need to be so grumpy, Hyung!"

Again, Jiyong could only frown. He was being tricked over and over again by the same red-faced drunk. 

"Then, uh," Seungri continued.

Jiyong then followed as the boy stands up from the sofa, pulling down his slightly-curled-up shirt. 

"I'm gonna go now, Hyung," he said with a tight-lipped smile. "It's getting late."

Jiyong made a quick glance at the wooden-framed clock hanging at the matted wall, it says two in the morning, and he couldn't help but worry over it.

"Just stay the night here," he said, latching on to the boy's loose denim pants. "It's late and you're drunk. It's not safe to drive."

Almost immediately, Seungri answers; "It's okay, I have a driver with me." 

And just before Jiyong could insist more, the boy turns his back on him.

"See ya!" Seungri added as he head for the doorway.

"Wait-" 

Jiyong sat there, staring at the door.

 

 

 

---

 

 

Seungri walked hastily towards the black vehicle, sluggish vision muddling up his balance. He trips, occasionally, but then he still quickens his pace. Getting on, the driver glances at him through rear-view mirror, but he just nods, no need for verbalizing their destination---as if this was such a thing that happens so frequently. 

He stared outside of the window, looking idly at each of the buildings they pass by. Though it's late, the lively lights of the various cafes and stores still shone brightly on the streets of the busy city. There were countless numbers of amiable, young people strolling and lounging on the sides, each heeding to their own agendas.

All such trivial matters was bleary to Seungri's eyes, nonetheless

He tries---he tries so hard, but the warm, tiny trickles of tears was just defiant against him. It cannot be suppressed, cannot be kept behind a facade, cannot be feigned and shrouded---just like his feelings for him.

It's a shame, he thought. Years of effort and hardwork were wasted just because of a sudden spur of the moment. 

 

 

---

 

 

 

Was his head splitting in two? Seungri asked himself as he sat on the corner of his bed, eyes half-opened. To what used to be a room just like any other room, was now like that of a distorted, awry place. If he hadn't known any better, he'd have thought he was in a lucid dream---but he knows it's real, real as the hot, sour-tasting liquid threatening to crawl out of his gut. He could still taste the alcohol from his breath, stinging his intestines as it slowly rises up. Just how much did he drink last night? He couldn't even remember. 

Should he even be bothered by the continuous knocking jarring his ears? It was what woke him up from his slumber, pestering him, ringing into his hearing like a nagging lover. Indeed he can choose to ignore it; after all, how can you tend to such trivial matter if the worst yet hangover had sunk its teeth to you?

He can, indeed, but the voice grumbling along the slamming of the door was just something he couldn't ignore.

As he got up---barely---for some reason, he could feel his stomach slowly twist into a knot. Of course, the hangover was a reason given; but this time, there was a feeling of unease as he neared to the source of the noise. His parched throat, in dire need for something that would quench his thirst, wasn't of help to his malaise either.

Slowly, he pulled the cold doorknob gradually seeing a glimpse of a man, ominous aura lurking around him.

"..Jiyong," he barely breathed out. "Hyung.."

Jiyong remained still on his feet. His eyes, harsh and hostile, inspected the boy thoroughly from head to toe, and eventually pausing at his neck. "I see you went out again last night, huh?"

Seungri felt his heartbeat hasten. He gulped, fingers tracing to what seems like small bruises on his neck.

"Thought you went home 'cause it's 'getting late'?" Jiyong smiled a truculent smile, cold as an icy mist. "Seems like you had a good time, huh."

"..Hyung," he muttered, looking anywhere but Jiyong's eyes. "This.. uh, this isn't what you think.."

"Tsch," Jiyong breathed out, chuckling. "Then what the is that? Mosquito bites? That's one hell of a mosquito then, huh?"

Seungri couldn't answer back. It's as if his voice was taken from him. He remained thawed on his feet, taking every venomous glare the man was giving him.

"Look at you," he continues. "Aren't you embarrassed of yourself?"

Seungri's head springs up. Finally, he looks him in the eyes. 

"Instead of doing something productive in your life, you run around in the streets, picking up any woman you see. Aren't you ashamed?"

Seungri felt a sudden twinge from the bold remarks. He busts out a deep, hefty breath, chest forming into an inward curve. He could've sworn he felt a stitch inside his throat as well as from his eyes. Was he always this sensitive? Hurting from the mere truth?

Immediately, Jiyong's eyes softens, cruelness eventually fading out into a regretful, penitent one. He opens his mouth, stuttering; "I-I'm sorry.. I.. I didn't mean it.."

Apology seemed a little too late for the boy's threatening tears. Before it could even fall out, he bites back; "What's it to you, anyway, huh, Hyung?" His voice shook, barely containing his vex, and Jiyong's eyes widens a bit. "So what? So what if I screw around with just any woman? What's it to you?"

"..Ri, I'm, I'm so-" he muttered, hands trying to reach for the boy, but halts immediately after. Now putting on a stern face, he utters; "How dare you speak like that to me. Did you forget? I'm your leader, aren't I? It's my job to keep your out of trouble," he said, now back to his old, icy self. "If you keep that up, it's not only you that'll get in trouble, you'll drag the whole group down. Now, we can't have that, can we?"

Just like how he blurted everything out, not being able to take any control, Seungri's tears immediately rolls down. Such an embarrassment, he thought.

"G-get out," he gushed out, and he regrets it in an instant. "Get out," he repeated, rubbing off the annoying droplets on his cheeks. 

How did it come to this? Now, he could only continue acting foolishly.

Before he could even see how stupefied Jiyong's reaction was---that he assumed was there---he shuts the door close and wallows in to his own remorse.

He then breathes out---a breath of rage and regret.

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

Seungri stood infront of the white-laminated door, cold sweat prowling on his back.

How did he manage to even get here in the first place, he asks. 

Doesn't matter now, though---at the sound of the door security buzzing, all of the words of apology he memorized all night were quickly forgotten.

And there, Jiyong appeared before him---he freezes.

"What's up?" the man greeted, smiling casually, and Seungri was a bit thrown in a faze.

A twitch on his eyebrow as he looked at him, trying to sound him out. Did nothing happen? Is he really acting as if yesterday was just something of trivial?

"Hyung.." he began. "About last night.. I-I'm sorry."

As he held his breath in, back tensing up, Seungri jumped a bit to a warm, mild touch---Jiyong was patting his head, gentle as ever, smiling lovingly at him.

For some reason, a rush of a heavy warmth climbed up to his throat; Seungri loathed himself. Why did he have to be this weak when it comes to him? His eyes were slowly gleaming from the light, its watery veil reflecting it. He tries to hold it back in, but he just continues to hate himself even more.

Jiyong chuckled. "You okay?"

"O-Of course!" he answered almost too immediately, and Jiyong breaks into a laughter.

"W-What?" Seungri asked, ears going numb from a sudden rush of blood. "Why are you laughing?"

Jiyong proceeded to giggle to his own delight, while the boy gets conscious from every second of it. "S-Sorry," he uttered, still engaging to his amusement. "You were so nervous, it's just, it's too adorable."

Seeing how stiff the boy stood infront of him, red as an apple, Jiyong then again laughs. "Did it make you embarrassed? Sorry, sorry," he said, reaching for Seungri's head to tousle.

"Why don't you come inside, first? I just cooked dinner."

Seungri tried to reject the offer, but before he could even say no, the man clutches his wrist and pulls him inside. As soon as he stepped in to the fancy place, the aroma of a stir-fried beef and hints of a buttery whiff immediately danced through his nose. Seungri felt his mouth salivate.

As Jiyong led him to the glassed table full of different small side dishes, Seungri sits, quickly, without hints of hesitation---Jiyong chuckled from it.

"Hungry, aren't we?" he teased, and the boy could only grin a bashful smile.

"Haven't had beef for a long time," he answered, already digging in to a cup full of rice.

Jiyong smiles his usual gummy smile, reaching up to his ears as he almost giggles at the rawness of Seungri's behavior. "Eat up," he said. "We've got lots of food. Some of it are from last night, but the beef's freshly bought and cooked."

By the time Jiyong even sits on the chair beside him, Seungri already ate half of his plate; Jiyong then chuckles once again. 

"Here," he said, dropping beef slices on the boy's plate, almost having none left of it. "Eat up! You can have some of my share too."

"Ah!" Seungri breathed out, mouth still full.  "No, no, that's yours!" he said, rice crumbs being spewed everywhere, and Jiyong explodes laughing.

"N-No," he muttered, red from laughter. "You can have mine. Looks like you need it more," he said, mockingly.

Seungri could feel his face get hotter, burning, but still, he continued munching away, letting the man watch him with hilarity.

"Consider this as my peace offering, okay?" Jiyong said, scooting over beside him, smiling cheekily as if being intrusive on purpose.

Seungri simply nods, almost leaning away from the man's close proximity. He could even feel his breathing on his pores, warm and pleasing; but there's also that sultry surge on his ears once again---he surely doesn't fancy having it.

Just a split second away from choking, Jiyong leans away---Seungri felt incredibly relieved.

"Got a call," he said, hands reaching in to his ragged jean's pocket. "Wait a sec."

"S-Sure," Seungri muttered while sipping in on some water.

Then, a huge smile on Jiyong's face as soon as he answers his phone. Seungri shroudly observed as the man conversed in such gleeful way. He tries not to, but he couldn't help but pry into it. Who could it be for him to act in such jubilant manner? 

"Girlfriend?~~" he asked, immediately after Jiyong ended the call. 

He teases, eyes intentionally giving off a malicious vibe, and then he giggles, trying to poke in fun to his own distress. He never should've asked, though. Like a swift of a harsh whirlwind, it's as if he suddenly couldn't breathe---an unexpected nod came from Jiyong, and it hits hit right on his gut.

"..Well, kinda," he said, and Seungri breaks a little more inside. "But we haven't really came to that point yet, though. We've been talking here and there, and that's about it."

"..R-Really," Seungri barely breathed out, and then smiles, he smiles the most arduous, exhausting smile he had ever put on. "I, uh.. H-How come you haven't mentioned this to me before?"

"Well..." he uttered, playing with his chopsticks, talking like a bashful kid in love. "I didn't want to talk about it when it's still not official, you know." 

Seungri's hurting, Seungri wanted to leave, but Seungri also wanted to know more. With just another second to endure in mind, he asks; "..Who's she..?"

"You kinda know her. Well.. we all do."

"..Who?"

Jiyong smiles. "Kiko."

 

 

 

---

 

 

Debris of shiny, fragmented glass scattered all over the dark, sleek carpet, and Seungri sits, staring at his throbbing, aching hand. He laughs, and then he cries. And then he laughs again, and then he cries again.

Ahh.. what a mess, he thought.

Now he stands up, walks over to his tiny sidetable beside the squeaky lazyboy, and then he picks up the piece of paper.

 

" Oppa! Enjoyed last night! Call me 

010-xxxx-xxxx "