Choi Seunghyun thought that Lee Seunghyun was stupid for falling for someone like Kwon Jiyong, who had danger signs flashing all over, who had them etched into his skin in permanent ink disguised as art.

When it came to romance, Kwon Jiyong was the devil – the fallen angel embodied and beautifully drenched in black sin, exuding temptation with his graceful fingertips and purging words.

Lee Seunghyun was the unfortunate – the purest of the pure who was waiting to be tainted, longing to be touched and colored with anything other than white.

Choi Seunghyun thought that this was how it was.

He learned that it wasn’t, in reality, all black and white.

Their conversations usually started the same: with a Hyung! Or a Maknae!

Their conversations would end only a little differently, maybe with a I’ll see you soon, hyung or a Take care of yourself, maknae.

Often, Seungri would talk and Seunghyun would listen. Sometimes, Seunghyun would talk and Seungri would listen. Rarely would Seungri not talk about Kwon Jiyong. Never has it passed Seunghyun’s mind that Seungri might have been obsessed.

(Maybe it should have, but how was he supposed to know?)

There’s a conversation forever etched into Seunghyun’s mind: one he started, when he was brave enough, during the early days of Seungri and Jiyong’s relationship.

“Would you have gone out with me, Ri?” he had asked, heart in his throat and butterflies in his stomach. “If I’d asked before Jiyong, that is.”

“You’re too perfect, hyung,” Seungri had answered. “I wouldn’t have been able to keep up.”

Seunghyun swallowed it all, even the rejection it was meant to be. “That just means I’m better than him, right?” he asked faintly.

“Infinitely.”

There was a more recent one he had also started when he felt like being a for a change.

“So how does it feel being chased down by the one and only Kwon Jiyong?”

“Hyung?”

“I mean, you can’t really run from him, can you? You’re so hung up on him, it must feed your ego that he cares enough to actually go after you a little. How does it feel, Seungri-ah? You feel like his yet?”

There was a pause. Then:

“ you, hyung. But because I love you and maybe you’re just drunk or high or something I don’t know, I’m just going to forget this conversation ever happened. Deal with whatever your dealing with and call me again. Goodbye.”

Seunghyun never did say sorry, but he never forgot either.

“This is a problem,” said Seunghyun, looking down at Jiyong who was lying on the studio ground.

Seunghyun had been absent for the past two months, shooting in China continuously because of the film’s constrained budget. It wasn’t fun at all. The script was good and he could get himself into his character pretty well, but the female lead was a talentless who got the part because she slept with the director. He wasn’t being rude, she told him herself, even propositioned him. Seunghyun wasn’t interested.

She kept messing her lines, and  she had a lot of them, and if Seunghyun wasn’t a professional, he would have walked out a long time ago. But he was, so he found himself stuck there, forcing himself not to kill a most of the time.

Why set a Korean film in China, he doesn’t know, but he’s been absent and he had to hear about everything second hand.

Seungri and Daesung had gone and lived their dreams to the land of London two weeks ago, while Jiyong and Youngbae had to prepare for their upcoming solo albums (he’s willing to bet that YG would eventually just release an actual GDYB full length, why the hell would he insist on them working on their together, otherwise). But he’s been gone and Daesung has been telling him how Seungri has been going out with this Trevor – or maybe it was Troy – guy, and Youngbae has been telling him how Jiyong has been clawing for the maknae ever since he met Trevor-Troy, which was like around three months ago, he’s not sure, off.

He hasn’t been talking to Jiyong, to be honest, because Jiyong was still being an and as far as he’s heard, Jiyong hasn’t apologized nor explained. Seriously, Jiyong was acting like a selfish brat.

All Seungri had been telling him, on the other hand, was how big everything was in London, which Seunghyun couldn’t get because it’s not like they haven’t been there before. Seungri sent him a lot of pictures of various food, sceneries, and people. The images were never without a banana, for scale, he said. There was even a picture of a banana, with a banana for scale. It was adorable at first. Then it was annoying. But because he loved Seungri, it just made him long for the maknae all the more.

Not that he didn’t long for the other members, no – it was just that he was in China, all alone, and he was having a hard time. He didn’t understand half of the things in his place, and he couldn’t go out much. The other staff barely spoke mandarin, and they weren’t always available. More often than not, he would wish Seungri was there, because Seungri was a whiz at languages and was always so agreeable.

So Seunghyun had been away, for two months, and he’d been expecting Jiyong to be feeling bad, as per Youngbae’s stories, but not like this.

It was really a problem.

The thing about Seunghyun was, he never saw problems. He never bothered himself with them. Problems were… problematic, and he didn’t do problematic. His equation for life was simple: If the problem had a solution, then it wasn’t a problem; if it didn’t have a solution, then what was the point of problematizing it?

Funny how he can complicate a blob of blue paint splattered on a canvas by interpreting it as a struggle of hope, and yet simply waved his hands at the lemons life gave him.

(Seunghyun was a contradiction. He reveled in it.)

The annoying thing about his ‘problem philosophy’ was that it only worked for him. When other people were the cause and solution of the problem, his philosophy weren’t as effective.

That is, if he put himself into another’s shoes, Seunghyun would assess the situation as if he were them and likewise, he rarely saw things problematic enough to worry about. However, when the solution of one’s problem was the cause of another’s, things got a bit more complicated (a whole ing lot more, actually, because this was Kwon ing Jiyong).

So when he said what he said, Youngbae, Dara, and Bom looked at him as if it were the end of the world. Not that that was new. He always got those looks on a daily basis anyway. It was just that, whenever Seunghyun said something was a problem then the problem must have been bigger than they originally thought.

Seunghyun nudged Jiyong’s hip with his Salvatore Ferragamo clad foot. “Hey, tard,” he said. “Get up.”

“ off, ,” answered Jiyong lazily. His eyes looked so damn far away, like maybe as far away as England.

Youngbae nudged Jiyong’s knee with his Gucci clad foot. “So you’re just going stay there all day, then.”

Jiyong didn’t bless him with an answer, just closed his eyes and breathed slowly. His mouth was set into a tiny frown. Seunghyun scratched his head – he may have been the actor, but Jiyong was the Drama Queen.

Dara stepped on his stomach with her Alexander McQueen clad foot. “Stop being pathetic, Ji!” she berated, huffing and crossing her arms over her small frame. Jiyong didn’t flinch.

Bom jiggled his shoulder with her Louis Vuitton clad foot.

The other exasperated three looked at her expectantly. She shrugged. “What? I just wanted to do it, too.”

Seunghyun sighed. “If I call Seungri and hand you the phone, will that get you to work?”

Jiyong’s eyes sparkled and he immediately stood up. “Yes! Yes, please.”

Seunghyun pursed his lips. “Fine, come with me.”

Seunghyun was like s the most. Amongst them, he saw himself as the middle. Not like Youngbae who was responsible for diffusing fights in the group. What Youngbae liked to do was meddle, mother that he was. No, Seunghyun was simply the middle.

Where Daesung and Jiyong were deep and liked to overthink; while Youngbae and Seungri took things as they were, Seunghyun was in the middle.

Where Youngbae and Daesung kept secrets close like they were their own; while Jiyong and Seungri blurted them out to the world, Seunghyun was in the middle.

Where Youngbae and Seungri would eat anything and not be picky at all; while Jiyong and Daesung had a tendency to pout and sneer at food, Seunghyun was in the middle.

Where Jiyong and Youngbae worried themselves over the problems the group may face; while Daesung and Seungri took a more or less ‘what happens will happen’ approach, Seunghyun would be in the middle, probably slapping Seungri in the face because at least Daesung wouldn’t be rude about it.

Yes, Seunghyun was also the middle. But he was also the extremities.

Not that he actually was. He just liked to think of himself that way.

Seunghyun was, and this was just his humble opinion, as close to perfection as any person could get.

He’s handsome, he was dangerous. He’s cute, he was safe. He’s funny, he was prideful. He’s serious, he was tame. He’s everything you could want, he was everything you want to be. He’sthe reality of your dreams, he was the dream of dark reality.

Also, did he mention he constantly thought in poetry?

Not that he was bragging –he didn’t need any of that, all his fans could do it for him – but he really did have it all: from looks to riches, from talent to smarts, from good family to good friends, from diamonds to hearts. He’s so proud of what he has accomplished so far, but he’s humble enough to know that it wouldn’t last forever.

He’s immensely aware that without BigBang, he wouldn’t be where he was.

He often thought that BigBang was an artificial miracle, brought about both by man and God. No matter how genius Yang Hyunsuk was for investing in Kwon Jiyong and Dong Youngbae, and figuring out later on that it might be better to put them in a group, he couldn’t have calculated in Seungri all on his own.

He wasn’t going to kid himself and think that neither of them could make it solo, that their duo wouldn’t have made it big. But there was also no doubt in his mind that neither of them would make it as far as BigBang had.

Dong Youngbae’s star might have eventually faded into the background, a mere star among the million others, and Kwon Jiyong had always shone brighter than he could handle. Kwon Jiyong was a black hole waiting to happen.

Maybe Yang Hyunsuk saw this, and maybe that was why he thought it would be better to put them in a group. That was his genius: he filled in their lack of a powerful voice with Daesung, and added more charisma with Seunghyun’s own brand of voice. Daesung was cute and funny and the angel of the bad boy group. Seunghyun was the lady-killer with eyes so sharp they can cut through any stone heart. Nobody questioned why they were in the group. They were essential; they were all well and good and so full of undeniable potential.

They were the product of YG’s genius. He kept them working hard and humble enough to stay favorable in the public eye, despite a decade of hardships and trials.

Seungri was not a product of YG’s genius.

Seungri, YG would often (jokingly) say, was one of the biggest regrets of his life. He’d have more hair and fewer headaches if it weren’t for him.

Seungri was a product of Divine Intervention.

Really, YG already kicked him out. But for some unfathomable reason, he got himself back in with his squeaky voice and too loose lips. There was no reason for Hyunsuk-hyung to take him back, but he did. Here Seungri was, ten years down the line, and still trying to prove to people that he belonged to the group.

Seungri had always been overshadowed, seen only as the talentless dongsaeng bullied by the rest. He doesn’t sing too many parts, and those he does sing, he does so unremarkably. His dancing is forgetful. He’s too noisy. He’s too arrogant. He’s too much.

He’s got all the talk with nothing to back them up.

Seunghyun thought it was a shame, that he was trained to become a mere support when he could have been an awesome carry. Seungri had all the drive, more than any of them, but Seungri had people spit on his face the most, because he was brave enough to talk, because he was brave enough to get out there.

What Seungri gave to the group was so much like his voice: harmonization. Seungri filled up all the crevices and emptiness and made them feel whole as a group, as a family, even intimately as persons, in their songs, in their dances, in their performances, and especially in their lives.

Seunghyun was sure he would have been lonelier without Seungri.

Seunghyun was sure Daesung would have been quieter without Seungri.

Seunghyun was sure Youngbae would have been more high strung without Seungri.

Seunghyun was sure Jiyong wouldn't have been everything he was without Seungri.

Seunghyun was sure Seungri was the embodiment of potential, that no matter what he wanted he could get, that no matter how much he’s pushed back, he’ll move forward.

Thing was, and this was a big thing, Seungri, for all his pride and alleged insensitivity, cared too much about others. It wasn’t the fear of humiliation that kept him from staying in Gwangju, it was for the preservation of pride in Hanna’s eyes. Seungri told him once, so long ago in a passing moment, that he doesn’t give up because he wanted his sister to know that anything was possible so long as she put her body and mind to it. It struck Seunghyun so hard that he remembered all this time. Seungri might have forgotten the moment, but he has always been so utterly enthusiastic about everything Hanna-related that Seunghyun was certain that fact would never change.

Whenever he would see Hanna with Seungri, and the boy would wax plenty about the girl, he’d catch her rolling her eyes. Seunghyun would laugh. Really, Seungri was the one who went to university while being an idol, gave his parents a café, funded his sister’s schooling, and owned and ran an academy at the age of 25, and he’d sing Hanna praises for graduating on time. Really, it was quite laugh.

He would also catch her smiling fondly. Seunghyun would smile the same smile back.

Seungri was like that – he forgot at some point over the years and so life backhanded him so hard, he remembered and reverted back – not only to Hanna, but also with them.

Seungri was still proud, but it was rarely about himself anymore. It’d always be about how good his hyungs were, how awesome, how handsome, how cute. Or about their fans, how loyal they were, how clever, how lovely, how fun. He’d say they’re the best and he’d actually mean it.

Seungri was BigBang’s biggest fan. Heck, Seungri was the fans’ biggest fan.

He’s the biggest VIP there is.

He’s VVIP.

Seunghyun totally meant the pun. Shame that no one could hear it.

Well, there was Jiyong, but Seunghyun was in no mood to joke with the other man. He hasn’t been forgiven yet. Plus, he forgot what his point was.

He got distracted by Seungri when Seungri was miles and miles and miles away.

Seunghyun missed him.

Seunghyun’s willing to bet all his Bearbricks that Jiyong missed him more.

“When was the last time you talked to maknae, Jiyong?” Seunghyun asked, on the rooftop where he led Jiyong so they can have privacy.

Jiyong looked down in shame and fidgeted with the ends of his shirt. “He answered my call last week. I think it was accidental; there was a lot of cursing before he talked. But we didn’t get to talk much. He wouldn’t answer any of my questions properly and was eager to end the call.”

Seunghyun nodded. That sounded about right. “When was the last time you talked to him properly, then?” he rephrased.

Jiyong bit his lip. “About a month and even that didn’t end well.”

Seunghyun hummed. Seungri might kill him for doing this, knowing how the younger has been painstakingly trying to avoid Jiyong, but all the depravation couldn’t be good for the leader. He wanted Jiyong to suffer, but he still needed Jiyong to function or Hyunsuk will have all of their asses. Worse, he’d postpone Seungri’s project in London just to get him back to Korea, all in favor of his favorite artist.

He reached for his phone and dialed Seungri’s number. He put it on loud speaker, as Seungri’s sleepy voice sounded over after the sixth ring.

“Hello?” Seungri said in Korean. Then he caught himself and, in English, said, “I mean, hello?”

Seunghyun eyed Jiyong. His eyes were alight in excitement, the nervousness evident in the clasp of his hands in front of him. “Hey, y,” Seunghyun said seductively.

Jiyong flared in jealousy.

Seungri groaned in protest.

“It’s too early for this, hyung, what do you want?” he complained, back to his native language when he recognized Seunghyun’s voice.

“Ri, don’t kill me, but,” Seunghyun started slowly, his voice careful.

“What, hyung? What?” he snarled. “Did you bully Bom-noona again? I swear to whatever deity out there listening that if Dara-noona scolds me one more time bec–”

“Jiyong wanted to talk to you.”

The other line was silent.

“He’s here right now,” Seunghyun continued, “and he’s waiting for me to pass the phone over.”

“No!” The answer was immediate, harsh. Jiyong cringed. Seunghyun expected it. “No, hyung, I… I…he,” Seungri tried.

“He can hear you. You’re on speaker phone.”

Seungri paused. Then he sighed. Then he said, “All right. Pass me over.”

Once Jiyong took hold of the phone, he put it off speaker and faced away from Seunghyun.

“Hello?” Jiyong said. Seunghyun couldn’t hear whatever Seungri was answering, but Seunghyun knew their youngest well enough to guess. So he stood there, waiting as Jiyong talked to his ex.

“No, it’s okay. I understand.”

“You just woke up? Yeah, I can hear it.”

“Why? Not much. It's just so good hearing from you. I wanted to know how you’ve been.”

“When are you coming back? I want to see you. Maybe we can go out to eat or something."

“In two months? Really? I thought you had to come back sometime next month.”

"What did sajangnim say, then?"

"Don't overwork yourself, please. You're alone there."

"Yeah, Daesung, but he's not me."

"All right. Sorry, sorry."

“Can I come to you, then? I’m free for three days next week–”

“Oh. Can’t I come over to your work? I won't be a bother and it might be a good opportunity to learn, right?"

“Oh.”

"I see."

Jiyong was silent for a moment. His body was rigid.

“Please, Ri,” he sounded like crying. “Let me see you. A few hours would do. I promise.”

"I miss you."

Jiyong was silent again.

“Ri? Still there? Did you hear what I said? I said I miss you."

Jiyong wasn’t saying anything, and Seunghyun couldn’t hear what Seungri must have said, but the leader’s stance was one of defeat that Seungri must have said goodbye.

Next morning, Seunghyun video called Seungri, a little afraid the younger wouldn’t pick up.

He did, though, but he clearly was not happy.

Seungri and Daesung had been staying in one apartment, having separate rooms. The two Seunghyuns video called each other almost every day. The schedule might not be fixed, as they were both busy people with a lot of responsibilities, but it was a habit both of them have never really gotten ridden of ever since their debut. Seungri would pull Daesung into the conversation at times, but Daesung needed his alone time. The Seunghyuns would understand and let him be.

While it was true that Daesung was Seunghyun’s favorite dongsaeng, the eldest only ever had one maknae in his life. Their closeness with each other had always been real whether in front or behind the cameras. Maybe it had something to do with YG giving him the special task of taking care of their youngest, especially because it was Jiyong’s task to take care of all of them as he was their leader. Maknae had clung on to him ever since.

Admittedly, Seunghyun wasn’t all too keen on taking care of the little brat back then. Seungri was too loud and annoying and brought too much attention to himself. Plus, Seungri followed Jiyong around like a lost puppy. Why the president placed him in his care, Seunghyun didn’t know, but it was annoying.

He found him really adorable, too, which made it all the more irksome.

He remembered pulling the maknae back at the collar, when they were so young and Seungri’s voice was still developing. Jiyong had been evidently trying to get the kid out of his face, but Seungri didn’t seem to get it.

“Stop following him around,” ordered Seunghyun after he had pulled the other away from Jiyong. “He doesn’t want you around, don’t you get it?”

Seungri had pouted, his eyes blinked rapidly behind his glasses. “I do, hyung, but I want him to like me.”

Seunghyun had sighed. He pitied the boy. “You can’t force him into it, Seunghyun-ah. He’ll eventually like you, you’ll see.”

Seungri’s eyes had brightened then. “You really think so?”

Seunghyun had answered with a nod. “I know so.”

Seunghyun remembered how Seungri had smiled at him: sad and happy at the same time. “Well, I don’t, hyung,” Seungri had told him. “But, thank you for thinking it anyway. It’s really nice.”

That may have been the moment when Seungri started telling him everything as well. Seungri wasn’t in reality the type to keep things about himself, but he never told what was never asked. Seungri liked to keep them, and then blurt them out to whatever variety show he’ll be on. The only exception was Seunghyun. He told Seunghyun more things than he told anyone, besides his sister of course.

(Hanna was Seungri’s shrink. Hanna’s complained to them about it more than once. Seunghyun had thought that the wrath of a noona was scary, but that was before he experienced the wrath of a little sister.)

It was burdensome at times, because the maknae could go on and on without stopping, and sometimes the boy had no point. He just talked and talked. Once in a while, Seungri would forget that he was talking, but his mouth would keep on running, and Seunghyun would know because he would switch languages, or revert back to his Gwangju accent. The accent was Seunghyun’s favorite, but the way the boy spoke Japanese was particularly enticing.

Seunghyun had spent almost half of his life watching this boy grow up and listen to fall in love and break his heart, and Seunghyun never really thought Jiyong deserved Seungri. Seunghyun might have been jealous for he might have (probably) fallen in love with this boy years ago, he was never sure, he would never really know because those feelings were gone.

Nevertheless, Seunghyun thought Jiyong didn’t deserve Seungri.