Okay so this is what I have so far:

“Daesung? What do you want? I’m busy,” Seunghyun let out a sigh that definitely held tones of frustration. Daesung picked up on it right away. His grip on the phone tightened a bit and he prayed Seunghyun didn’t hear the breath he had to take in to calm himself.
 

“Well?” Seunghyun prompted further when all he got in return was silence. He tapped his foot on the marble of the bathroom floor and absently fiddled with his hair.  This dinner was very important. He wanted to make a good impression on the director.
It was essential they hit it off on their first meeting and let that carry over to the rest of the filming project. This director was held in high regard- Seunghyun needed himself to be held by the director in that same regard and-

He missed everything Daesung had said while lost in his thoughts. “What? I missed all of that. Look- Daesung, I really don’t have time for this right now. We’ll talk… I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I have to go.”

“Oh- but- wait- hyung- I love y-”
The line went dead and Daesung’s choppy and stuttered protests died with it. He was left listening to a dial tone, breaths shaking through the transmitter and simply back up through his own receiver.
He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to cry.

The young man settled on a laugh.
It was empty and sounded nearly hysterical even to him- but it’s really all he could do.
Finally, after months of absolute he’d gathered the courage to confront Seunghyun about missing yet another promised evening together and how that hurt him and made him feel and-
Seunghyun hadn’t listened to a word he’d said.
Typical.
“ing typical Seunghyun.”

Daesung  tossed his phone carelessly across the floor. With his now free hand he picked up the bottle of the far too expensive wine (that quite frankly tasted how nail polish remover smells), and took a long and hearty gulp.

Because this was a wine for “refined tastes, Daesung. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Then hyung, why do you grimace after every sip?”
“Just go drink your cheap beer. Don’t embarrass me further, Daesung.”

Daesung tipped the bottle back further, the memory causing his stomach to churn. His other hand began to scrub even harder at the carpet.
He asked Seunghyun kindly not to put his coffee mug by his feet if he sat in the armchair too far to reach the coffee table from but, of course, he never listened.

So once again, Daesung spent “date night” cursing (Seunghyun hated that- good) and scrubbing (once again) at coffee rings left carelessly on cream carpeting.

Date night.

Ha.
Ha. Ha.

It was a crime for it still to be called that. It was the third time in a row that Seunghyun had missed without giving Daesung even a text to warn him that he wouldn’t be showing up.
And the eighth missed out twelve possibilities to have one in the past six months. They were supposed to have date nights every Thursday they could together. Seunghyun had thought of it.
Seunghyun had suggested it.
And here Daesung was left alone again. Seunghyun not even bothering to give him a call to tell him he wouldn’t be showing up (not that he’d called the last few times or shown up for the five other times he did call).

Daesung honestly could no longer fathom a reason why he still made the time and effort for these date nights… and that scared him.
It obviously wasn’t reciprocated, didn’t matter at all to Seunghyun; they didn’t mean .
So why did he keep trying to get an ounce of affection out of the once clining man?
He really, really couldn’t bring anything reasonable past his lips anymore, because he knew he was just clinging to silly, desperate hope, that maybe Seunghyun still loved him too.

There were instances that affection would rear its head again and Daesung would bask in the warmth of it for a few hours once more, even if the rays weren’t quite as strong as they’d once been.
But they were warm and there and…
And they disappeared just as quickly as they came.

Daesung polished off the bottle and the television.

He hoped Seunghyun just went back to his own villa that night.
He truely didn’t want to see him right then.

Not this Seunghyun.

The hours wore on until there were only a couple ‘til sunrise, and Seunghyun never did show up. If Daesung had Instagram, he was sure he’d see pictures posted all about detailing what a high-class and good time Seunghyun was having at just wherever he was.
He found himself forcing coughs and rubbing at his throat desperately attempting to get rid of the lump that had formed there. It hurt when he swallowed and he could feel his nasal passages stinging as if he’d been crying.
He hadn’t though.
He wasn’t sure he had any tears left for Seunghyun- they didn’t do anything anyway. They didn’t drip from his face onto a calling card for a fairy godmother.
They didn’t turn into diamonds.
They didn’t do - except make him feel just as physically as he did mentally- so why should he bother with them?
 

He took in a harsh breath and held back a sob as he finally stepped into his dark room. The city skyline was stretched out before him. His steps were small and swaying as he weaved his way through strewn about clothes in his room until he reached the wide window ledge.
He wasn’t sure how he’d describe what he felt looking out into the ever twinkling city- but it was that distinctive feeling one gets when they’re met with such a view late at night when they’re all alone. Your chest feels a bit heavy but it’s not necessarily bad and your mind feels like there finally is the room for it roam as long and far as it wants to-
Your thoughts can spread out and place room between them instead of being trapped, caged, closed in and static.
It’s calming.

Daesung’s shaking breaths soothed out and he found himself sinking to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest. He reached blindly behind him after a few moments, sneaking its way under the bed, and finding the hidden object he wanted.

A sweater that had long lost its original owner’s scent after being tossed to the back of the closet years ago ended up wrapped in Daesung’s arms as he fell asleep to the audio of sad films playing on TV floating across the apartment.
Seunghyun might not miss his old sweater or even notice it was gone, but the garment felt like the only piece of Seunghyun he had left.

*** *** ***

Lee Seunghyun was at another club, dancing with another girl he couldn’t remember the name of… but he wasn’t asking now. She had about three massive guys looming nearby that all looked a lot like her big brothers and damn did they look protective. Seungri caught eyes with one of them and could swear he could hear the tree crack his ing trunks for fingers over the rolling bass.

Yeah.
 

Yeah, no.
“Hey, you’re awesome, but I actually have to?” Seungri trailed off leaving the statement sounding like a question as he jabbed a finger over his shoulder in the direction of “anywhere but here” however more probably came off as “the bathroom”.

The girl pouted and whined and it was nasally and annoying. Seungri barely held back a cringe. Honestly, he was too gone to be too sure he didn’t hold back the cringe. She glared, and that’s not a good sign, so the chances he did cringe were looking up. He tried to take a step back.
She grabbed his sleeve as he tried to pull away and pushed her arms together to push up her already double push-up bra pushed up s together and-
Seungri was vulnerable to the attack. He know she knew what she was doing. And she knew he knew.
But he still fell for it  For just a second, but he still fell for it.
They were him in; they were supple and soft looking and he gave himself a shake.
If he tasted them he’d also get to taste an aptly named “knuckle sandwich” and he really, really, didn’t enjoy the flavour of those not matter how he got.
He had his limits too despite what everyone liked to say.

“Seriously, I have to pee-” he tried again. It didn’t matter how lonely he was. The negatives of numbing that feeling with her for one night- they were adding up quicker than the positives this time. He started to retract his entire being.

Shock lifted Seungri’s eyebrows up as she lifted his hands and placed them atop her s. If his fingers reflexively grabbed- well, he had the offer and he took it.
Accidentally, but he did.
His head felt heavy and so did his arms when he lightly tried to tug his hands back to him.

Taking in a deep breath, Seungri gave another tug back, trying his best to pull his being back to himself but her grip simply tightened and she held his hands in place. He stumbled a bit at being held back and turned his sight back to look at her only to have it whipped around as a palm slapped him across his face. “You ert!” She began to cry.

“What? No! I-” he fumbled behind his hands pressing down on his quickly reddening cheek hoping to try and do something about the pain. It felt just a bit wet took. He wasn’t sure why.
His slowed brain didn’t have time to process all the plausible substances it could be because of course, that’s when Tree Hands had to place a way too heavy handed, way too strong grip on his shoulder. He asked, “Is this creep bothering you?”

Seungri gulped.

He kind of wished he’d drunk just a bit more so he wouldn’t have to remember this.

*** *** ***

Seungri’s head is heavy and a paperweight for his paper weight body. He’s amazed he has the strength to hold the weight in his hands, but he does. He even has enough strength to occasionally take one hand out of the support system he’s made to wipe away at the blood dripping down his cheek from just below his left eye.
That had been wearing rings and it had definitely left a nice little scratch. He was just lucky she hadn’t struck any higher.
But her goons had taken care of that anyhow.
A cut below his left eye, and a black eye on the right side- he was just thankful it wasn’t bad enough to swell up and shut.

He sat on the floor of his room, ice pack lying to his side, damp towel still half wrapped around it. His vision was blurred but stuck on the twinkling city lights outside of his window. There was that feeling again.
That feeling where you’re alone- but so connected to all these other lives-
But you.
You’re alone.

Seungri let out a bitter laugh.
He didn’t even know who to call.
And what would he say?

He did have Daesung’s number typed out and ready to hit dial on his phone screen.
And there it had been for two hours.
But- he didn’t want to both him.
He’d been down lately he didn’t need- Seungri knew how quickly people were to leave when their “friend” was going through a negative time, being negative, feeling negative-
Self-preservation sure.
Fine.
Whatever.

Seungri didn’t want to think Daesung would leave too but-
He also didn’t want to risk it.

He heard himself sniffle but it turned into a laugh.

This was his Friday night.
It was three in the morning and he was alone.

But he knew it could be worse.
He could still be out there surrounded by people who really don’t care too much about his well being.  

That disconnect was always weird to feel.
Always a bit out of body.

But a ed up part of him liked to feel it every so often. To remind him... well, maybe just to realize exactly what he was doing and where he was and with who.