Seungri looked outside the car, watching as the streets moved backwards in a blur as his black car raced forwards. He was tired, but he wasn't going to let himself close his eyes, he wasn't going to fall asleep. He didn't want this to go, he didn't want her to go, for tonight was beautiful - too beautiful, to be forgotten or lost. If this was going to be a dream, he never wanted to wake up. He was exceptionally quiet . He couldn't stop himself thinking of her, but was troubled by the fact that he was unsure if she was there at all. He didn't recall her coming to the fansign event at all; for she had seemed to disappear completely towards the concert, yet it was definite that he had seen her before he left the building. Despite all he saw was no more than a faint reflection, a shadow, a side of the face, a lock of hair, but he swore he had never been so sure in his life - for how could he forget the sight of her? The very person who caught his heart and taught him to experience feelings he had never felt before, the fiery fervour that hit him was to be etched in his mind forever. Instead of feeling dreamy and a sugary happiness that he had experienced in the past, he was sad, with a reason that he himself failed to understand. He didn't know why he was feeling this way, and deep inside, he knew that he didn't want to find out either. The liking he felt was something that scared him -he wasn't ready enough for this. He had too much to lose, and he knew he wouldn't be able to afford the consequences of his own selfish feelings. 'Yah, leeseungri,' he heard himself say inside his head,'why are you worrying about the very consequences and fearing about the pain of separation when you're not even sure if that was simply you imagination or not? ' He gave a bitter chuckle,for it was all he felt right now. Bitterness, a pungent despair. He was so pathetic, a coward who was afraid of bearing with any consequences, he was a man who didn't have shoulders to bear weight. Who was he anyways? Inside the lavish exterior of fame and prestige, it was a hollow emptiness that filled him from within, and this scared him. It was the first time he was feeling like this, and he wish he didn't. But he was afraid, afraid of the truthful feelings that hadn't surfaced in him for years, that he had learnt to put away, disregard and deny. Yet today, he was willing to admit, to come forwards and face it. He realized he had been lying to himself all along, telling himself that all the fame and glory was all he wanted, drunken disco nights, aftertastes of alcohol, midnight drives with the windows down, emerging himself in rapture, in wild, wild nights. It was all what he wanted himself to believe in, so that he could forget, move on. But it wasn't so, the past memories still chased after him, and they wounded him, drained all the life and energy out of him. Refusal, more refusal; sometimes he was so stubborn. He turned his head, to look at the bandmate who had his head laid low. He wonder if this was what the older man felt all the time, struggling between the acceptance of reality and deception. He didn't why he was being so difficult tonight, why couldn't he just get his spirits up, swag down a can of beer or two and hit the lights? He realized that it was going to be a very long night.