Author’s Note: I don’t own anything.

/own thoughts/
italics – past lives

What if there's no second chance?...

Seungri figured that between an angry Chaerin and a working towards psychotic Youngbae, death would be a merciful punishment.

"How…how was I supposed to know?" he protested, cupping large hands over his vulnerable ears.

Youngbae felt his eye start to twitch and resisted strangling the other boy. "Is there anything in that humongous head of yours? If I hit you, would I hear rattling?"

"Why don't you test it out?" Dara's sipped absently from her cup, the red plastic crinkling under her tensing fingers.

The Bom Park stumbled to the table, her lips nervously, reaching for a cup and splashing the punch in. Her eyes were haunted, too dark. The strap of her dress was hanging dangerously off of her shoulder, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Bom?" Chaerin's cinnamon eyes narrowed in concern. "Bom, where have you been?"

The slim girl shrugged, running a small hand over her drawn face. "Is it time to go home yet?"

"Have you been crying?" Youngbae's rage meter was beginning to rise again. "What happened?"

The girl rubbed vigorously at her eyes. "Nothing."

"Nothing my--"

"I said nothing." Bom snarled, her eyes flashing dangerously. As her siblings stared in shock, she slapped a hand over , eyes impossibly wide in a suddenly pale face. Stammering an apology, she dashed for the door. Youngbae and Chaerin exchanged a brief look before following.

Silence.

"Well, damn," Seungri ran a calloused hand through his hair. "This night isn't exactly turning out the way I expected."

Dara eyed her slightly dented cup and thumped it against his broad chest. "Keep these coming, Lee. Something tells me it isn't going to get better."

Chewing thoughtfully on the stem of his turquoise shades, Soohyuk leaned back in his chair almost to the point of falling over.

"It was close today," he mused. "I almost got her."

"Liar."

"Shut up."

"She's scared of you."

They would have to fix that.

"She left with G-Dragon."

She would have to pay for that.

"She's never going to be yours."

He let out a roar of rage, springing to his feet and making his way across the room to face the speaker.

"You dare defy me?"

"She doesn't love you."

"Shut up!"

The sound of laughter sparked his anger.

"And what are you going to do if I don't?"

Soohyuk's fists clenched, but he made no move. His hands had been badly damaged last time he had lashed out. The bastard smirked, though his eyes were weary and sad.

"It would do you well to remember your place. Those fools fear voices, when you and I both know that voices are the least of their problems."

"Does it frighten you?"

"Shut up."

"Scared?"

"Watch it, child."

"You might have beaten me, but I'm not going to sit back and watch anymore."

"I hate to remind you that you really have no choice."

"I beg to differ." Sarcasm.

"You should be on your hands and knees thanking me!"

"For ruining my life?"

"For turning your pathetic life around. You were nothing before me."

"You sonofa. You come into my life and completely take over and you expect gratitude?"

"Be careful."

"Or you'll do what?"

Soohyuk raised his eyes to meet the defiant gaze. The speaker smiled, placing a hand on the barrier between them. His grin turned feral and, Soohyuk stepped back, shaken. Cursing his momentary weakness, he screamed and lashed out at the wall that seperated them.

But Soohyuk, what can you do against me?

The mirror smashed with a satisfying crash against the floor. But the boy's voice remained.

"We are, after all, the same."

"I mean, what the hell, right? If the guy wants to talk, talk. Why with all the touching and the staring and the eyes and the sad sh--"

Seungri nodded, too busy trying to figure out a way to avoid being killed to really devote all of his attention to the girl at his side.

Who was, oddly enough, entertaining an uninterested pole with the story of her life.

"And if he thinks it's going to work on me, he's got another think coming because I am so smarter than that and I don't care if he's hot or whatever because as far as I'm concerned, I think he's nuts and I am so over dating crazy people--"

Seungri tried not to take that too personally. After all--

"--And hey! Are you listening to me? I'm talking to you here!"

--Dara was drunk. Sagara figured that this would be something to tell the grandchildren. Maybe not to Youngbae, or else he wouldn't live long enough to tell the grandchildren, but this was something that would make someone laugh nonetheless. Much later. When death didn't loom so closely. A loud thump interrupted the tall boy's musings, followed by a sharp hiss of surprised pain.

Oh, dammit.

"Did you just hit the pole, Tokki?"

Large brown eyes were rapidly filling with tears. "He wouldn't listen to me!"

"Tokki, it's a telephone--" The boy sighed and decided that reasoning with a drunken person probably wouldn't do any good. "I'm sorry. The thing's a jerk. Tell you what: I'll listen to you on the way home."

A pout. "No."

Maybe he should just kick himself and save Chaerin the trouble. "Dara--"

"Seungri?"

Jiyong.

Both Seungri and Dara whirled around, Seungri with a panicked look on his face, and Dara with unreadable smile on her lips.

"Jiyong," Seungri choked out, "What are you doing here?"

"I was about to go home…but," Jiyong stepped closer, his brown eyes narrowing in thought. "Is Dara…drunk?"

"I most certainly am not," she sniffed, tossing her head. The sudden movement seemed to throw her sense of balance off, however, and she was forced to sit down rather quickly or risk falling over.

Laughter, Seungri knew, would earn him a sharp rap on the head. So he wisely suppressed any as he propped her up against him. "Damn, Tokki, you sure are a piece of work."

"What are you going to do?" Jiyong was more concerned than amused. But, Seungri mused, Jiyong had always been the wet blanket.

"What do you think I'm going to do, leave her here? I have to take her home, idiot."

"But your car--"

"No kidding. TOP was supposed to give me a ride, but I can't find him. So I'm walking her home."

Jiyong figured that he was losing his mind. "I'll drive her."

He had lost his mind. "What?"

"I'll drive her home. I mean, you're going to end up carrying her soon, she can barely walk."

"Are you crazy? Youngbae would have my head if I let her go home with you."

"She looks like she's ready to throw up."

Seungri considered that fact briefly. "Where'd you park?"

Daesung slammed his textbook shut, annoyed and bored. Stupid Seungri. Stay home and do homework? Who had died and made him boss?

"Agh, I'm bored!" he shouted, irritated with the silence. "Stupid Panda!"

The phone rang shrilly, jolting him out of dark thoughts involving rooster brothers and sharp objects. Taking a handful of chips from the bowl beside him on the desk, he shoved them in his mouth, snatched up the phone, and mumbled a greeting. The timid voice that replied was enough to have him choking violently on Sour Cream and Onion.

"M-M-M," he stammered intelligently, flushing when she stuttered a reply. "No, I'm not doing anything. What's up?"

He blanched. "Oh? Oh, sure." She had just called about the homework. "Yeah, no problem, I have it right here."

Rattling off the math numbers, he battled back the twinge of disappointment. Stupid, he knew. Why would she be calling him for anything else?

"Yeah, that's all. If you have any more questions, I guess you can call me back." Daesung frowned softly. Why wasn't she hanging up? Was he supposed to hang up first? Were they supposed to count to three and hang up together?

She spoke again, startling him out of his frantic review of teenage codes of telephone conduct. The dance. This Friday. He hadn't forgotten about it, right? Was he going?

"Oh, yeah, that. I don't know. Dances aren't really my thing," Daesung winced. That would be an understatement. He had, unfortunately, inherited his brother's left foot in addition to his own.

"Oh." Her voice radiated disappointment. "Oh, I see."

Did she want him to ask her? Panic. His young fingers tensed on the abused potato chip bag, smashing the remaining ridges into crumbs.

Come on, Daesung. Ask her. Don't be a coward.

"Why don' t you tell him, ugly?"

Sharp pain. He yelped and rubbed his head with a dark scowl on his face. "What was that for?"

A playful smile that didn't seem to quite reach brown eyes. She smiled a lot more these days so he wouldn't worry, but he knew. He was hardly a child anymore, after all.

But he would let her have her dreams.

"Focus on your own life, kid."

"But yours is so much more interesting."

She laughed, and leaned on her stick, blowing her hair out of her flushed face thoughtfully. "Is that so?"

"Why don't you just tell him? It isn't like Jiyong's going to make the first move. And with the speed you two are going, Seungri and Chaerin'll be married before you guys get anywhere."

He laughed, expecting her to at least smile with him. It faded when he saw the flash of unguarded pain in her eyes. As soon as it came, it was gone, and she moved her shoulders to ward off hurt.

He felt ashamed. "I'm sorry, Dara."

Her eyes lit with surprise, and she reached out to tousle his hair. He loved her enough to let her.

"Daesung." She sighed, shouldered her practice sword. "Don't be like me. Waiting. Wishing."

He followed her wistful gaze and almost hated Jiyong for hurting her.

"Don't be a coward."

Daesung shook his head briefly, chasing away the mists. Took a deep breath.

"So, Minzy,…about the dance…"

Dara had taken to giggling by the time they had managed to half drag, half carry her to Jiyong's Jeep. Seungri couldn't stop the stream of curses when her foot caught his shin as he lifted her into the passenger seat.

"Damn it, Tokki, you're not exactly the lightest…"

"I'd suggest not finishing that," Jiyong warned, sticking the key into the car's ignition. "She's drunk, not deaf."

The younger boy simply sighed, reached over to fasten the seatbelt. "Be careful, and bring her home quickly. Youngbae gets home before you, we're all dead." He slammed the door closed.

Jiyong nodded absently. Dara started to lean forward to hug him, but nearly toppled out of the window. She blew him a kiss instead. Seungri laughed.

"Be careful, Jiyong!" Seungri couldn't help but worry as his friend gunned the engine. He was, after all, rather fond of his cat’s little sister and his neck. Which Chaerin would most likely wring if she found out about this.

A loud honk shattered the boy's musings, causing him to look up in concern. Jiyong's Jeep had narrowly missed running into a pole.

Oh, damn.

Oh, yeah, he sighed. Youngbae was going to kill him.

As soon as the Jeep had left the curb, Dara had decided to experiment breathing…in Jiyong's ear. Yelping in shock, he leaned on the horn and nearly crashed into a telephone pole.

"What are you doing!"

She only laughed, raising her hands over her head in a lazy gesture that should not have made him want to hit his head against the steering wheel.

"Are you cold?"

Shaking her head, she reached out and brushed a questioning finger against his white knuckles. "Where are we going?"

Lord, help him.

"I'm taking you home."

Pout. "No more soju?"

Definetely not. "No."

"You're such a wet stick."

"Blanket."

"I said I wasn't cold."

"No, I mean…" Jiyong sighed, took one hand and ran it wearily over his face. "Never mind."

She stared at him in silence, her eyes flickering with an emotion that neither of them would have expected.

"I love your eyes."

Whatever he had expected, that certainly wasn't it. Said brown eyes widened in disbelief.

"What?"

She laughed then, and it was sad. "What? I can't say stuff like that?"

Jiyong bit his lip in order to keep from reaching out. Just to touch. Just to feel.

"They're gold now," she informed him, laughing again when his hands tightened even more on the wheel. "Golden. I wonder how they do that."

His laugh was a little strained. "I'd like to know too, actually."

He felt his world tilt dangerously as his gaze met hers, and he frantically tried to figure out if it was the car that swerved or his heart. Belatedly, he realized that she had crawled in his lap.

"Why are they so sad?" she murmured, and threaded her fingers in his hair. She straddled his lap, touching her lips briefly to his, pressing against the horn. The blast shocked him back to reality. He dimly registered the metallic taste of blood.

The tires screeched in protest as he yanked the wheel and somehow pulled the car over to the sidewalk. She grunted briefly, a frown settling over her pretty features as she gingerly rubbed her offended back.

No.

Muttering an oath, Jiyong cuffed both of her wrists and locked them behind her, searching her face frantically. Her eyes gleamed for an instant, a smug smile playing on her lips. As if she knew what he was about to do.

No. No, don't.

The kiss spoke nothing of the tenderness he had needed to give her before. He knew that neither of them would have welcomed it. Neither of them would have wanted it.

A sound was ripped from her lips, half laugh, half moan as he tore himself away and assaulted with teeth and tongue. Her hands twisted vainly against his hold, flexing against his fingers. Once. Twice.

Desperate, he ran his free hand over the trembling skin left bare by the slip she called a dress. He met her lips with his once more, sank into the heat.

And felt the splash of wetness on his skin.

Rearing back, he released her to touch shaking hands to his cheeks. She watched him, wordless, her swollen lips settling into another drunken smile. When she pressed forward, all invitation, he gripped her arms and pushed her back.

"We can't."

She lifted an eyebrow, opening and closing on a yawn. "Why?"

She nestled her head in the crook of his shoulder, and he wished fleetingly that it could all be easy.

"I can't."

Her eyes swirled, the tears still clinging to her lashes. "Why?"

He cupped her cheek in his hand, his heart in his eyes. "Because it's not real."

She blinked, and her eyes changed so quickly he wondered if he had imagined the flash of regret that had followed his choked words. Now they were simply laced with sleep. He couldn't prevent his arms snaking around her, could stop himself from pulling her tightly against him.

"Okay."

And as she slowly went limp, her breath fanning out over the skin of his throat, her hair tickling his flesh, he sat, awake and unseeing, a single tear burning its way down his cheek.

…Would this be enough?