'White...hair...Yah that's not helpful at all, every member has had white hair before. How would I know!' Grace exclaimed, devastated by the fact that her friend was incapable of describing her 'bias'.

'That's not important, anyways,' She said, as she peeped over the queue once more, in hope of seeing some movement. There was none.

'I'll just pretend you like Top, then, ok? It's most probable anyways. He is so handsome that..I've run out of descriptions. I just love him.' Grace ended her sentence with a delighted sigh - there was no doubt her fangirl fantasies had occupied her mind again. 

She let out a snort, sometimes Grace could be so childish it was beyond imagination. 

'Look,'

'-Hush child, welcome to the kpop fandom. HONEY YOU'RE OFFICIALLY A BIG BANG FANNNNNNNNNN!!!' She opened to protest, only to find that Grace had already hung up after excited squealsof triumph. Not that she still wanted to continue the conversation anyways, she had had enough of the unpredictable randomness. 

The queue continued to edge at a very slow pace, and her fuel was running low. She had been standing for one hour and a half, it was 11 o'clock at night, she knew still had work to complete when she returned home, and her phone was dead. She was experiencing a stage of absolute exhaustion. The high heels wore her out, and the crowd was so loud she felt like her ears were bleeding. And occasionally a certain hysterical female would run out, shove her shoulder, step on her shoe, and wail loudly, uncontrallable tears pouring down her makeup caked face. She had had more than enough of this, and no matter how good the concert was, no matter how much the celebritiy attracted her, she decided this would be her last time, she badly regretted having promised her best friend to get into the trouble she was in right now. The only thing she wanted was sleep.

After another hour, she finally arrived at the counter, having to face 5 men with ethusiasm plastered over their faces in an effort to please both cameras and fans. Nonetheless. she could tell that they shared the same weary vibe as she did, probably even 100 times worse. The fansshe saw who stepped on her foot, crying their way out, had probably troubled the members even more. She bowed lightly, and asked in english for a signed CD as politely as possible, as Grace had demanded. Her hair drew over her face as she bowed, and she made little effort to bring her hair back to place, letting it hang casually over her visage, for she had barely any energy left. They were all handsome, and tried to provide her with the best fanservice. She felt guilty towards them as she didn't recognize anyone at all, she felt as if she had wasted their effort. 'I'm here for my best friend,' she said, flashing an apologetic smile. 'So you're not a fan?' One of them asked, his eyes flashing with curiosity. She nodded as she handed them the CD case, surprised at his ability to speak English. 

Seungri let his tired eyes close a bit as he reached a tired arm to the CD and signed his name drowsily, this was the ten millionth fangirl he had signed her CD for, and he thanked her sincerely for not being possessive and asking for everything. He was deeply grateful with her calmness, he hated it when fangirls took out an actual, physical list, and asked him to 'perform all her tasks on the list'. It kept the queue waiting and it was simply annoying. He especially hated it when a fangirl couldn't pronounce his name correctly and was demanding and loud. It disturbed him. 

This fangirl was unusually quiet and calm, he decideid he'd say a heartfelt 'thank you' to her after she was done. She was the second last one and had probably waited for 2 hours or above. Yet she still had the courtesy to behave properly; she was also very polite, he noticed. She really deserved a 'thank you' from the group.

Seungri himself was very tired, despite having his eyes open and a genuine smile on his face, his soul was half dead. He was simply a man with his eyes open and the rest of his body malfunctioning. It was past midnight in Korea and he felt like he was on the verge of breaking down. He was tired of the fanmeeting event and was upset that he hadn't seen the girl who grabbed his attention so vividly anymore. Was she even there at all? He regretted not having look for her more carefully as he made his exit off stage. 

It had been 3 years since he had broken off with his ex girlfriend, and he had never met love at all ever since, except for a few occasional hangouts with some early twenty year olds. All in glitter and perfume, throwing themselves on to him, begging him to meet their parents, or buy them a handbag, or maybe even both. But who cared? He didn't like them, all he enjoyed was simply being the 'man in control', and the feeling of being desired and wanted. Those girls barely knew anything, they were ignorant and too young and thought he loved them. Thinking of it now, they made him sick. 

Yet that girl was the very opposite, he swore she was different, he swore he liked her. It was a sincere sentiment he had experienced, and he craved for more.  He thought of her smile, and the way her dimples engraved on the heart of her cheeks when she smiled. He thought of her pretty rosebud lips, her soft eyes, her face. 

The fansign was soon over and he craned his neck to a side as he let out a tired sigh, looking longingly at the exit door. He could have fallen asleep there and then. As he stood up from the wooden chair and headed towards the exit,he thought he saw a faint reflection on the glass doors, a lock of black hair, a slender curve of a waist, a lean leg clad in beige high heels. The female head turned slightly, and from the corner of his eye, he saw the side profile, the exquisite bridge of her nose, half an eye, eyes the darkest shade of black, a corner of the lips. He almost thought he saw her, he almost thought she saw him, he almost thought he saw half a smile from his sideways glance. 

But when he reached forrwards to her and walked to the exit for a better eye, she was gone, and the only thing that greeted his eyes were the cars that zoomed across the road at full speed, the lazy gleam of the streetlights, and the flashy advertisement boards which stung his eyes. Her mystique form had disappeared along with the night, and as he looked up into the clear sky, he thought of none other than her eyes, bright and tender, the eyes that smiled, eyes that spoke to him, eyes that he found himself lost in, eyes that trapped his heart inside them forever.