I Know

Youngbae was broken. Noiseless sobs wracked his body and salty tears ran down his handsome face. He felt as though his feet were stuck to the ground as he watched Seungri walk away from him. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. The tears were warm as they ran down his face, and the icy wind on his skin seeped into his bones, but he didn’t feel them. Everything else was overshadowed by the blinding pain in his chest, the absence of his heart. Seungri had taken the older man’s heart with him when he left, and the younger man didn’t even know it. Somehow, that made it hurt more, although he wasn’t sure how that was possible. Youngbae wanted to curl up in a ball and sob, but thoughts of Seungri were making it impossible to do anything but stare at his retreating back, and after the other man was long gone, the space he’d last been seen.

It hurt. It hurt too much to think about, to remember Seungri’s words and their meanings. To know that their short, blissful time together was over. That he hadn’t meant anything much to Seungri at all. It hurt that he could be tossed aside like a used dish rag. He couldn’t think about Seungri leaving him. He wouldn’t; he refused.

An hour later Seunghyun-hyung shoved his wallet into his pocket and left the apartment, shivering at the fierce cold. He spotted Youngbae lounging a few feet down the hallway, calling out to him, “Yah, Youngbae, now will you tell me what the hell you needed me fully dressed and out here in the cold for?”

Youngbae turned towards Seunghyun and spoke emotionlessly, “We’re going drinking. My treat.”

Seunghyun stared at the singer, eyes wide. “You don’t look too well, Youngbae…”

“I’m fine,” muttered the younger man.

Seunghyun shook his head disbelievingly. Youngbae didn’t seem fine to him. Although the younger man’s features were schooled into a neutral expression, eyes were red tinged, and emotion shone through them. Seunghyun had only looked into their dark depths for half a moment, but so much despair and pain shone through them, that it hurt to look any longer. Youngbae didn’t drink, and yet here he was ordering his hyung to go drinking with him. Seunghyun worried as he got into the car with Youngbae, but didn’t say a thing, leaving the other man to his own thoughts.

Seunghyun was surprised when the car lurched to a stop outside a small, run-down looking building. Youngbae was silent as they entered and headed straight for the small bar. An employee glanced up as they sat down, and Youngbae spoke immediately. “Soju.”

“Ah, Youngbae, maybe you should have something lighter,” Seunghyun protested. Youngbae didn’t drink, and starting off with soju wasn’t a good idea. The older man worried about its indication of the singer’s current state, mentally and emotionally. Youngbae chose to ignore his hyung, instead knocking one back. He coughed as the burning liquid traveled down his throat, and touched a finger to his mouth.

“Let me buy you a beer,” Seunghyun tried again.

In answer, Youngbae took another shot, and another, and another. Seunghyun stared, horrified, and moved to take the bottle of liquor away from his dongsaeng. Youngbae was looking tipsy and he wondered if the younger man was already drunk. Youngbae gripped the bottle’s neck tighter as the older man tried to pry it from his fingers. “Youngbae!” cried Seunghyun, frustrated, “What’s wrong with you? Gimme the bottle!”

Youngbae turned his unfocused eyes on Seunghyun and slurred sadly, “He dumped me.”

Seunghyun stared, not quite believing his ears. “What, Youngbae? Say that again- who dumped you?”

Youngbae’s intoxicated mind couldn’t find anything wrong with telling Seunghyun about the situation, and so he repeated himself. “He dumped me. Seungri. He broke my heart, Hyung,” the drunken man moaned pathetically.

Youngbae poured himself another shot of liquor while Seunghyun stared; fully convinced he was drunk, dreaming, or insane. “Seungri… dumped you? I didn’t know you two were going out,” he managed to splutter. Should’ve guessed though, he thought to himself. It sure explained both men’s extreme highs and lows lately.

“Yeah…” Youngbae garbled, “He said he didn’t wanna, wanna ruin BIGBANG ‘cause he’s selfish.” The heartbroken man took another shot while Seunghyun wasn’t looking. “I love him, Hyung,” Youngbae mumbled brokenly. Seunghyun could only stare, too stunned by this sudden revelation, to move. Youngbae took advantage of the moment, pushing aside the cup and drinking the potent liquor straight from the bottle. Seunghyun was silent, still processing what Youngbae had just told him. A few minutes later, Youngbae’s head lolled and he swayed in his seat a couple of times before blinking blurry eyes at the man who sat next to him. He blinked as black tinged his vision, and with a thud, his head hit the bar.

Seunghyun was startled out of his daze by the noise, and his dark eyes widened as he realized Youngbae had passed out on the bar. He tried to find humor in the situation, but could only wryly mutter, “At least it’s just one bottle.” He shook his head and after paying, pulled the limp man’s arm of his shoulder and half dragged, half carried the unconscious shorter man to the car.

Youngbae awoke to blinding sunlight searing his pupils and a pounding headache. The lights, the sounds, the movements hurt. He felt dizzy as he attempted to hide from the light under his blankets. Why was he in so much pain? Pain. With that, everything came crashing back to his mind, and he felt fresh tears prickling his eyes. If this was what a hangover felt like, he never wanted to wake up feeling the effects of one again. The solution was simple: never stop drinking. He stumbled out of his room, swaying on his feet and shielding his eyes with one hand while his other held his throbbing head. He ate and dressed before heading back to his room, grateful it seemed he was the only one home. He texted Seunghyun, ‘We’re going out again tonight. My treat again.’ Staying drunk seemed like a surefire way to forget the pain, because he knew he couldn’t handle the crushing reality.

He drank again that night, passing out at the bar. Seunghyun wouldn’t take him out again after that, fearing Youngbae’s current state might deteriorate even further if he indulged the other man’s current habit. When Youngbae found himself stuck at home, he raided the liquor cabinet, leaving his room scattered with empty and half-empty bottles of alcohol. He avoided his band mates and ignored their pleas for him to stop drinking; he didn’t want to remember, and so he drank.

Day four without Seungri. Youngbae had only gotten halfway drunk the night before because he’d run out of alcohol, and so he was halfway sober that morning. He was reminded of this by the deep, never-ending, burning, aching pain in his chest and the way he actually understood the voices shouting outside his door. As of late, they had only sounded like garbled nonsense to the drunk. He tried to ignore them, since they seemed to make his head pound, but found he was too sober to today. He’d need more booze soon. Maybe he could convince Daesung to get him a few bottles? He was drawn back to the real world by a shout. “Well what the are we supposed to tell Mr. Yang?! He said that Youngbae can’t afford to take any more sick days, and he’s got to go back to work tomorrow! He can’t find out about this, Hyung!” Jiyong’s voice penetrated the quiet and made Youngbae’s head hurt.

“Well what do you expect me to do about it?!” Youngbae vaguely recognized that deep, melodic voice as Seunghyun’s. “You’re his best friend and the leader! It’s your job to snap him out of this!” Even in his current state Youngbae realized they were talking about him. He couldn’t deal with this right now. Not now; he was too sober. Youngbae covered his head with a pillow and did his best to sink back into the sweet blackness of unconsciousness.

An electronic ding echoed loudly down the hallway. Jiyong paled as he saw the sender’s name, and sank to the floor as he read the text. “YG’s coming. Here. Now,” his voice shook as he informed the other man.

Ten minutes later the doorbell rang, and after confirming Mr. Yang’s identity Daesung opened the door and let him in. YG Entertainment’s CEO greeted the younger man with friendly familiarity before asking where Youngbae was. Daesung answered nervously and retreated to he and Seungri’s room.

Daesung sighed because Seungri was staring at the wall again. It was all he ever seemed to do. It was as though the maknae had gone into a comatose state. He was robotic. Seungri sang his parts, danced perfectly, ate his meals with his band mates, but nothing could prompt him to stay longer than strictly necessary. Daesung frowned, and poked Seungri, hoping to illicit a response. Nothing. The younger man lay on his side, staring at the wall. He didn’t smile or laugh or speak or frown or cry or anything. Anything would’ve been better than watching Seungri in this state; he was like the living dead. Youngbae and Seungri were both behaving crazily, so Daesung supposed the two best friends must’ve had a serious fight. He’d never seen two best friends closer to each other, and although it was sweet, it also made him just a little uncomfortable. They were almost too close for comfort. Daesung poked his roommate in the side one more time before giving up. Seungri had been dead to the world since Youngbae had begun drinking. Sometimes Daesung even dared to think that they behaved more like lovers than friends, although he supposed that he was crossing the line by thinking that.

Yang Goon made his way down the hallway and knocked twice on Youngbae’s door. When no response was forthcoming, he opened the door anyway. His eyes bulged and he stared in shock. He’d expected to see the straight-laced singer in bed with the flu, wrapped in warm blankets and surrounded by tissues. God knows he hadn’t expected to see Youngbae half-, sprawled on his unmade bed with an empty bottle in hand and more scattered about the room. The stunned CEO exited the room, more surprised than he’d ever been, and called Jiyong. He dragged the slim man into the relative privacy of the kitchen and proceeded to interrogate the band’s leader. “I thought you said Youngbae was sick, Jiyong,” he said bitingly, sarcastically.

Jiyong looked down at his shoes, his voice quiet, “I lied. I’m sorry, Sir.”

Mr. Yang’s brows furrowed in both anger and confusion, “What’s put him in that state, Kwon Jiyong?”

Jiyong hesitated a moment too long before spitting out a lie, “I don’t know, Sir.”

Yang Goon shook his head. “You lied to me once; don’t do it again. Tell me what’s wrong with him.”

Jiyong bit his lip and stared at a brown spot on the tile. “It’s… romantic in nature,” he muttered reluctantly.

Yang Goon rubbed his temples, “Explain.”

Jiyong spoke hesitantly, “Well, Youngbae likes someone. A lot. And they like him back, but…”

The CEO was getting irritated, “Then what’s the problem? Why’s my idol passed out drunk instead of at the studio?”

Jiyong sighed and bit down on his lip again, “Well, um, Sir, if Youngbae was to be with this person there’d most definitely be a scandal. It’d hurt BIGBANG…”

Mr. Yang frowned and spoke seriously, “It looks like it’s already hurting BIGBANG, Kwon Jiyong. We can deal with whatever this ‘scandal’ is when the time comes. It’s your responsibility to take care of your band mates; fix it.”

Jiyong stared at the floor and mumbled a regretful, hesitant, “I know.”

A/N: Agh, more angst, I know. I feel a little bit bad for doing this to you guys, but....
Aish, I'm sorry.

On a side note, this chapter was four pages long in word, and the whole fic is 23.Current word count: 12,365. I'm impressed with myself. ^^
I know this chapter was sad, so have something that made me smile...