"Over here!"

Jiyong hears as soon as he walks in to the rather eccentric-looking cafe. Youngbae was there waving at him, seated below a painting of a , distorted woman. Next to him was Daesung, dropping blocks and blocks of sugar in his pale coffee, holding a crystal-covered teaspoon, each illuminating a different shade. The ambience was quite queer---fluorescent-colored walls, swirly, spirally cats, vivid tables and chairs, strange, jumpy music playing in the background. An extraordinary place, exclaimed Youngbae, and Jiyong couldn't agree more. 

Both seats across them were empty, and with two short of members, Jiyong asks; "Seungri? Seunghyun-hyung?"

Youngbae merely shrugs, lower lip sticking out. He then continued swiping away on his phone, the other hand, holding a cat-shaped mug with its tail as the handle.

"You don't know?" he asked, pulling out the bright, neon chair, and Youngbae just shrugs once more.

"Seunghyun-hyung said his mom was sick," uttered Daesung, stirring the endless grains of sugar inside his cup. "As for Seungri, I don't know," he said, and Jiyong squints his eyes. "We haven't been in touch for quite some time. I don't know what he's been up to lately."

"He's not answering my calls," Youngbae said, joining them. "Think he might've changed his number?"

"What? Why? What's happening with him?" asked Jiyong, dread and unease slowly starting to creep in. "You tried visiting him?" 

"I did. Several times," said Youngbae. "And each time I do, there's no one inside."

"I heard he's been hanging out around lately. Have you tried reaching him, Hyung?"

"Huh? Well, not really? I mean, we sort of got into an argument last time, but we already made up. Thought he was just keeping a distance since he's still awkward about it. But I didn't know he's not showing up for you guys too."

"Why don't you try calling him? Maybe he'll answer if it's you?" 

And so Jiyong did. With a phone against his ear, he waited and then he waited, and then he waited some more. Until eventually, an automated operator speaks, and he ends it with a frown.

"Ah!" Daesung sighed out to Jiyong, who's now on his feet, ready to leave. "Where you going, Hyung?"

"I'm gonna go check on him."

Murmuring voices humming into their ears, derisive stares sinking deep within their skins, Seungri could sense it all, but he chose to still not bat an eye. Seungri couldn't care less if people were to feast around them. He likes it, nonetheless.

With an impish smirk, he glances down at her as she rests her head on his shoulder, arms wrapped around. The woman's name hasn't even adhered to his memory, but as long as he's enjoying himself, it won't matter even by tad bit.

Has it been days---weeks, even? When was the last time he had shown his face to Jiyong and the rest? Seungri couldn't keep count.

It hurts, he says. It hurts like no other pain he had ever experienced. He's hurting and he's bitter, but he tries not to be---at least even just for his own illusion.

"Oppa." 

"Hmm?" he answers. 

"Where are we going after this?" the woman asked, staring up to him fluttering her long lashes. 

"Well, where do you wanna go? You decide and I'll take you there."

"Anywhere. Anywhere but here," she said. "It's kinda boring here."

Boring, she says. Seungri snorts out of disbelief. A lowly woman belittling his and Jiyong's favorite place---unbelievable.

"Let's go somewhere else," she said, tracing his chest. "Somewhere more private."

"Which place, then?" he asked. "You decide."

Then, she smiles, she smiles oh so gleefully. "There's this hotel I've been wanting to go to.. Park Hyatt Seoul."

Seungri then again snorts. Such woman asking for a grand, luxurious place. Unbelievable, he thought. "Let's go then," he says anyway, already on his feet, and the woman giggles bashfully; Seungri was helping her get up, acting like a gentleman with his playful grin.

"Is this what you've been busy about?"

For a split second, Seungri felt like his heart vaulted from him---the thin, hostile voice, jolting the soles of his feet with tiny currents. It was as if a dark, ominous presence edged in closer to him, and the hair on the back of his neck stands up.

"No call, no text, no anything, huh?"

Seungri twitches a frown and a tic on his nose. It wasn't as if he didn't expect a confrontation to happen---not this soon at the very least. He turns around and Jiyong's minatory aura was there once again. He stood there hands in his pocket, glaring at him with hounding eyes.

"This is the reason?" Jiyong asked, looking at the woman beside him. "Fooling again?"

She then clutches on to Seungri's arm, backing away a little and sticking close to him. 

"Go home now," Seungri whispered to her, and so she did.

"You still haven't answered my question." Jiyong inches nearer to him."Are you or are you not fooling with women again?" he asked, but Seungri just couldn't utter a word.

"Speak up." He raises his voice, and the same murmuring of people could be heard once again.

The man then grabs a hold of his wrist, tightly grips on it, and now he could feel his own veins pulsating. He was hauled away, dragged until both their feet were stepping on rough, dewy ground, and then now they're inside the vanilla-scented vehicle, him facing downwards and Jiyong staring outside the tinted glass.

"Speak up," calmly said Jiyong.

Seungri gulps. He could hear his own chest pounding, and he wonders if Jiyong could, too.

"I said speak up!" he exclaimed, eyes still on the window.

Startled, Seungri blurts out gibberish words, and Jiyong just grew impatient even more.

"What?" he asked. "Speak clearly!"

Once again, Seungri just mutters, peeling the tiny skins off of his fingers as he sat nervously. He then hears Jiyong's sigh and he wonders; was it out of disbelief? Impatience? Or was he just simply giving up?

"Alright. Take your time. I'll wait," Jiyong said, serene and of an unruffled manner. 

Now, Seungri felt a little at ease. He still couldn't breathe freely, but at least the gelid droplets of sweat significantly lessened. 

"Well? Are you not really gonna answer?" he asked, calmly, and Seungri could feel the patience drawing in on his voice.

The belligerent Jiyong was gone, only now the forbearing one; Seungri finally composes himself and speaks; "I-I'm sorry.."

"For what exactly are you sorry for?"

"Well.. for everything."

The man breathes out a sigh. He nods as if saying he accepts it, but Seungri could still feel traces of dissatisfaction.

"How come you weren't showing up for weeks?" he asked. "When we try to contact you, you wouldn't answer."

"..I-" He halts himself. Once again, he could feel himself choke up from his own dismay. Supposedly, he should be an excellent liar. How come his tongue was doing him no good?

"Hyung.. I can't," he said, and Jiyong raises an eyebrow.

"Why not?"

Silence was all he could give as the man pegged his gaze on him. Then, Jiyong sighs out a hefty breath; Seungri jolts for no reason.

"Okay, I understand," he said, rubbing the side of his neck. "Just remember that you can tell me anything, okay? All your problems or whatever it is, I can help you. You don't have to keep it all by yourself. You can trust me, okay?"

The boy then silently snorts out of sheer irony. How satire, he thought. If only it was that easy, such vile, dreadful situation wouldn't exist then. 

"Wanna eat? You hungry?" Jiyong says suddenly, and Seungri couldn't help but chuckle.

"What? Why?" he asked, now grinning.

"That's out of nowhere, Hyung."

"What, you don't want me to? Want me to still continue getting mad at you?"

Seungri then again snorts. "Alright, I want some roasted chicken."

"As expected." Jiyong smiles.

Seungri wouldn't consider himself as a morning type of guy. Waking up with a steady smile curved up on your lips, embracing the biting wind seeping in through the windows, stinging your eyes by the bold beams of the sun---Seungri just didn't fancy it. 

Now was just one of those rare moments, he suppose. 

The grin on his face, it just wouldn't fade away. Such carefree movements as he walked on the vibrant street. Even from a distance, he could already smell the aroma of coffee beans and waffles wafted out from the cafe. 

He enters, and then someone calls for his name. The blithe voice that's happy he's there; now he feels all warm and fuzzy inside. 

From his spot, he could already see that everyone's there. Everyone and their usual selves---except Jiyong.

Seungri wouldn't call it 'unusual.' He was still the same buoyant, composed man, sitting calmly with the most elegant posture. Nothing's really changed, he suppose.

Nothing's changed, but his heart was sinking.

Should he run away while it's still not too late?

"Seungri!" Jiyong exclaimed. "What're you doing standing there? Come here!"

With that, he blinks off that stitch and smiles. "Right," he said.

As he walked closer to them, the woman beside Jiyong stands up, embraces him and gives him a peck on the cheeks.

"Kiko," he said.