All the world is ours,/
Like they say in Scarface kid,/
You can push your drugs and I can make it big,/
Sing at CBGB’s have a real good gig,/
Hey you never know.

-“Never Let Me Go” by Lana Del Rey

The boy in the snap cap tugged on the little girl’s hand.

“Come on Minseo,” he said distractedly.

“Wait, I want to give you something.”

He sighed. They really had elsewhere to be.

“What?”

“Come here.”

He crouched down, stooping to her level. He knew that Minseo could be really stubborn when she wanted to be. Their mother used to joke that she took after him.

“Seungri-oppa, you look so pretty,” she said sweetly, slipping a dandelion crown onto his cap.

“Hey!”

“Like a princess.”

“Now you’re going to get it.”

She was already giggling by the time he caught her halfway down the block and seized her under her armpits. He hoisted her high in the air and swung her in a wide circle. When he set her back on the ground, he immediately started tickling her.

“Seung-ri! Op-pa!” she sputtered. “St-stop!”

“Apologize.”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please stop! Ahahahahahaha!”

The sun had set by the time they made it back to their neighborhood. Their home was set back in an alley that had clotheslines strung up and down it. Not many people would find inspiration in a dingy, narrow alleyway littered with empty food containers and other refuse, but Seungri knew someone extraordinary. Someone who told Minseo bedtime stories where, instead of their neighbor’s frumpy work clothes, lanterns hung on the clotheslines, and every rat that scuttled by was secretly a shape-shifting dragon.

That someone threw open the door and spread his arms so an excited seven-year-old could run into them.

“Oppa!”

“Minnie!”

Youngbae swept her up in his arms. He was quite the striking sight — a man in a mohawk and apron — and there probably would have been a time when Seungri would have commented snidely upon the look. Yet all he could honestly say now was that he felt relief upon seeing him, and he couldn’t quite put his finger upon why. Sure, his little sister loved him, and it was great to have another guardian available, but it seemed to go beyond that. He couldn’t explain what he felt.

“I made dinner. I hope you like cauliflower!”

Minseo scrunched up her nose.

“Just kidding. It’s pizza.”

She beamed. From the pocket of her dress she produced a second dandelion crown and began wordlessly threading it through his mohawk. Youngbae waggled his eyebrows at Seungri.

“Do I look as handsome as you do?”

“You mean ‘pretty’!” Minseo insisted.

“No one does,” he replied. “But you’re a close second.”

“Good enough. Whew, it’s hot out here. Come on in.”

They went inside. Before Seungri slipped his shoes off, he automatically closed the door, locked, and bolted it. Youngbae plopped Minseo unceremoniously on the beaten-up couch in front of a technicolor cartoon. When he started to walk away, she protested.

“Aren’t you going to watch, too?”

“Oppa needs to finish making dinner. Tell me what happens.”

She seemed satisfied with that response. He thanked her for the dandelion crown, tugged playfully on her braids, and then headed to the kitchen, Seungri following in his wake.

“Something smells delicious.”

“And it’s not you for once?” Youngbae joked.

“Oh my God. Is that chocolate cake?”

“The one and only.”

“You are some kind of domestic goddess.”

“Pillsbury gave me a helping hand,” he said, shaking the empty box of cake mix in front of his friend.

The kitchen was quite small, and it was currently cluttered with all manners of cooking detritus. Old mixing bowls, measuring cups, wooden spoons, an oven mitt, and haphazardly opened bags and cartons of ingredients perched on every available surface — which was mainly just the counter next to the sink and the table in the corner. Somehow Youngbae made do, which caused Seungri to marvel at the man’s innovative frugality as well as his generosity.

“Sit down and have a beer,” said Youngbae, tugging a scratched-up plastic stool out from under the table with his foot. He the rickety fan on the table. He then knelt to pull a couple of bottles from the mini-fridge.

“Best wife ever.”

“Ha. Ha. How did today go?”

“Not too bad. I scoped out the area. There was a lookout, but he won’t be a problem for Donghyeon.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Like, what is he going to do to him?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Do you think this is really the right thing to do? Taking Minnie out there today as cover–”

“I’m doing it for her. It may not be ‘right,’ but it’s ultimately for the best.”

“I don’t like you getting tangled up in something like this. I don’t want you to get hurt. The grocery store is still hiring for the night shift–”

“Youngbae, I cannot thank you enough for all that you’ve done. Not only have you taken in your old high school buddy, but you also took in his kid sister. With this job I’ll be able to repay you and get a new place in a better neighborhood for Minseo, and everything else she could possibly need.”

Youngbae’s head was bowed as he listened. He fiddled with the cap of his beer bottle, twisting it between his thumbs and index fingers. He was leaning against the sink, cake mix smeared across the front of his apron, mohawk wilting in the heat.

“You don’t need to repay–”

“I know I can’t. Not really. But I have to try.”

 “This is really dangerous. Just talking to Donghyeon was risky. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I won’t let anything happen to Minseo. Or you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about.”

They locked eyes. Something clicked for Seungri then. There was a surprising drop in the pit of his stomach, not unpleasant but not entirely comfortable either. Youngbae had such kind eyes: the kindest eyes he had ever seen on a guy. No one had helped Seungri so freely and selflessly before.

“Minnie,” Youngbae called, still staring at the man before him. “Dinner is ready. Help oppa set up the table.”

“Sit down. I’ve got this.”

Seungri rose. He slid the stool across the tiled floor to Youngbae.

“You’re too good for this world.”

There were more words on his mind — more ideas of what Youngbae was too good for — but he swallowed them in favor of rifling through the plasticware drawer.

                                                                        *****

“When’s your debut album coming out?”

“Hyung,” Daesung squeaked, dropping his hairbrush. It clattered noisily across the floor. “I didn’t know you were home.”

“It sounds good in here. When’s your release date?”

“Please,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Hey, you never know.”

Seunghyun bent down to pick up the brush. He extended it towards Daesung’s mouth.

“So, Daesungah, what are you naming your first album?” he asked. He had walked in on the man singing into his makeshift “microphone” countless times before. This time, the bamboo handle and spiky bristles felt heavier and smoother than they ever had in the past. Daesung made a face like he was considering his options.

“All the World Is Ours.”

“Quoting Scarface? Why, Mr. Kang, I do believe you’re trying to seduce me.”

Seunghyun had professed his love of the franchise on numerous occasions. He placed the brush on the dressing table and advanced on the shorter man.

“Come here.”

“Why?”

“I want you to.”

“Why?”

Seunghyun grabbed the smirking man and pulled him close as he giggled. He breathed in Daesung’s familiar scent: pine shampoo and chocolate. They both had such a weakness for chocolate.

“I can’t believe I’m going to sing at GDYG’s,” he said happily.

He snuggled into his neck. Seunghyun’s hands slid down his back and landed on his bottom. He silently praised the God of Threadbare Skinny Jeans.

“It’s a real good gig, and I am so grateful to you for making my dream a reality."

“You deserve it.”

“And you, too. You can push your drugs and I can make it big. Then we can get out of here.”

“Mmm. Where do you want to go, kid?”

“Absolutely anywhere with you.”

“Cheesy.”

“You love it.”

Seunghyun swept his brown hair out of his eyes and kissed him tenderly.

“How was it today?”

“Good,” he moaned, as Seunghyun on his neck. “Quiet. Boring. God, do that again.”

His belt slid to the floor, the buckle clanging noisily against the scratched wood. Seunghyun wasted no time in pushing him back onto the bed, immediately following him down. His hands fiddled with the clasp on his jeans as he kissed him deeply.

“Nothing important to note?”

“Nothing I can think of. Oh!”

Seunghyun had snuck his hand past his fly.

“I should be practicing.”

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make you sing.”

They spent the next hour engaging in a couple of rounds of enthusiastic love-making. In all the excitement, Daesung forgot to tell Seunghyun that he had seen the boy with the snap cap again that day, walking by the 7-Eleven without his sister.

                                                                        *****