A/N: Sorry for the late update, I have no excuse. 

I wrote this before I actually knew about Natural High's artists, and I didn't want to change it for the sake of the story, so please bear with me on that. Hope you don't mind.

I also hope you enjoy this chapter.

Please do leave me comments; constructive criticisms are welcomed.

Thank you. :)

“You asked him to marry you?”

“I did.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“There was no reason to.”

“I can believe he said no.”

“He didn’t.”

“What?”

“He didn’t say no.”

There was a subtle change in Seungri that Seunghyun couldn’t place.

And then he did. And he couldn’t stop thinking.

They haven’t talked for four days straight because Seungri kept missing their time. On the fifth morning, when he rung Seungri up for a video call, it was Daesung who answered. Seunghyun felt disappointment settle in his gut, but only as such that he still didn’t get to talk to Seungri. On the other hand, he was thrilled to see his favorite dongsaeng.

“Hyung!” Daesung greeted. “What’s up?”

“Daesungie!” Seunghyun cried, unable to keep the fondness from his voice. “Daesung-ah!”

Daesung laughed. “Ah, our Tabi is so energetic! Were you that excited to see Seungri?”

“It’s because of you, Daedae!” Seunghyun fluttered his eyelashes. “Seeing your face got my heart booming in my chest.”

Daesung smiled brilliantly. “A flirt,” he accused. “That’s what you are.”

Seunghyun’s laughter reached his eyes, his rich bass filling his room well in the morning. “God, I miss you. Youngbae isn’t as fun, and Jiyong’s being his moody artistic self. I just wish either you or Seungri were here sometimes so I can have someone to play with.”

“Wow, thanks a lot,” Daesung said evenly. “You sure do know how to make a guy feel missed.”

Seunghyun made kissy faces to the camera in apology. Daesung had it screen capped and made it into Seungri’s background picture.

“How is it out there?” Seunghyun asked in the meanwhile.

“Oh, it’s really amazing, hyung,” gushed Daesung. “I’m so thankful for Seungri for being able to get this opportunity. The people have been so nice and working with them has been so wonderful. I can’t believe the amount of input they let us have. We might as well have signed under their label, you know? They are just so accommodating.”

“Sounds like Seungri got you the opportunity of a lifetime,” Seunghyun commented.

“Ah, yeah. That kid,” Daesung said fondly, even though he was only a year older. “He’s doing so well, too. The other DJs just adore him. Natural High only has two female DJs and both of them won’t leave him alone. Shiver thinks he’s so adorable – she can’t get enough of him! She keeps treating him like a doll, it’s insane. And then there’s Lux who we swear is the English version of Chae and she won’t stop hitting on him and dropping innuendos. At least we think they’re innuendos, they sound like they are.”

Seunghyun laughed. “Chill out, Dae. Don’t spray it all in one breath.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Daesung ducked his head. “It’s just been so busy, cramming six songs into two months. We’re shooting the music video for the title in two weeks, getting choreography down for them next week, and I know we have a different main  producer for every song and all Seungri and I have to do essentially is sing, but it really puts into perspective how hard maknae must have worked on his solo albums, you know?”

“Hold that thought,” Seunghyun gasped, and jumped off his bed. Unsurprisingly, at least to Daesung, he came back with a pint of ice cream and a serving spoon. It didn’t help that Seunghyun’s sheets were bubblegum pink and that he was still in his pastel blue pajamas, adorned with the most ridiculous set of unicorns Daesung has ever seen.

Seunghyun settled in like a child waiting for his parent to tell him a goodnight story, except that he was over five feet tall, had a voice that could go as deep as an abyss, was nearing his thirties, and it was morning in Korea. “Okay,” he said. “Tell me everything.”

Daesung smiled indulgently.

Natural High had  a total of six producers, all DJs originating from London, a tight-knit group of friends who went as far back as high school, all with the same dream of creating their own music and building their own label. They consisted of two females and four males, including Trevor Bennet. Each of them will be working on a track, the seventh one left in the hands of Seungri, and the eighth track is a free for all, the raw of which would be coming from Daesung.

Daesung had nothing much to brag about when it came to producing. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop Natural High from making him learn from them and try his hand on it. All six DJs would have a hand on the song. That is, they’d all work on Daesung’s song a little and release whatever they end up with.

It was a project more for fun than for profit, anyway.

Apparently, Natural High was big in the London club scene, known more for their DJing skills than the few songs they have originally produced. The six artists have won several international DJing contests and any club featuring them were sure to be packed. Daesung and Seungri went to some of their gigs, and their talents were undeniable.

Daesung was having so much fun learning new things and meeting new people, it felt like he was on vacation, despite the busy schedule.

Seunghyun was almost jealous, if he weren’t so happy for them.

There was a lull in Seunghyun’s life that sardonically didn’t place him at ease. Suddenly, everyone around him calmed enough that it got him thinking that all the drama was over.

His promotions for his movie were going well, and his female lead was starting to become tolerable enough to be around for more than an hour.

Daesung was having the time of his life. Apparently, the people of Natural High got him to loosen up enough to get him to try a number of extreme sports that would usually have the singer ting his pants.

Youngbae was so in love because Min Hyorin was so sweet and adorable and Seunghyun’s heard them whispering sweetly about marriage and if it doesn’t make Seunghyun want to puke rainbows and marshmallows.

Jiyong has been busying himself, filling his days with proving to everyone why he was the Golden Boy of YG and every fashion magazine in Korea, this without the whining and groaning and all-out craving for a certain panda boy.

Seungri was…

Does Seunghyun dare think it?

Seungri was… happy.

At least, he seemed to be.

There was a smile on Seungri’s face that Seunghyun hasn’t seen for quite a while. It was gentle and sweet, accompanied with a shimmer of glee in his eyes and a cute stutter of nervousness in his speech. Seungri was giggling and blushing and doing little lip bites that had Seunghyun’s heart feeling fragile.

It felt like Seungri was slipping from his fingers all over again.

Seunghyun returned all of Seungri’s smiles even though his heart felt like stopping. Regret was seeping into his bones, making them ache with weariness and loss, making them weak. But not for him, because he doesn’t love Seungri that way anymore. Not for him.

So he wondered why he felt like walking away when Seungri said, “Trevor taught me how to skate today. He’s teaching me how to surf next week!”

So he wondered why he felt like punching a hole into a wall when Seungri gushed, “Trevor owns two clubs in London, hyung, and one each in Los Angeles, New York, Macau, and Tokyo. Gangnam’s his next target, and he’s managing them all himself, isn’t he amazing?”

So he wondered why he wanted to beg from Seungri Jiyong’s forgiveness and to cry for the boy to come home when he whispered, “Trevor got me flowers and handmade chocolates, and asked me out. He had the sweetest fidget when he was nervous, I just couldn’t say no. He’s taking me on a charity ball this Friday, can you believe it?”

Seunghyun wondered why dread was sinking so deep in his stomach.

Seunghyun wondered how he was going to tell Jiyong.

The past week had passed by in a blur, and Seunghyun could only remember the one-sided conversation Youngbae held with Jiyong, when they were all in the studio, conceptualizing for their music video.

“You either love ‘em or you leave ‘em, Ji,” Youngbae said with swag in the way only he could. “You can’t have it both ways.”

Seunghyun doesn’t remember how they came to this, how they kept falling into discussions about Jiyong and Seungri. Seunghyun thought it was inevitable now, because they were all involved, that somehow,  Seungri has roped them all into this mess and they were part of it whether they wanted to or not.

Jiyong had no answer, as per usual. Seunghyun wanted to know what ran through Jiyong’s mind, what he thought whenever Youngbae rubbed into his face that what he did was wrong, what he was doing was wrong. Seunghyun wondered how much of the regret Youngbae wanted him to feel Jiyong is actually feeling because Seunghyun could see the conflict in his eyes.

Youngbae took a deep breath. “Do you still love him, Ji?”

Jiyong, surprising both Seunghyun and Youngbae, said, “I don’t think I ever stopped.”

Jiyong kicked the back of Seunghyun’s knee, making his legs give out. “Stop it, ! It’s not funny,” he berated.

Seunghyun, for the life of him, couldn’t understand what it was about Jiyong receiving a black eye from Youngbae (just because of the answer he has made) that was so funny. He couldn’t stop laughing though, so he assumed that it was because of everything.

Youngbae let out a long sigh. “,” he moaned. “I wanted to do that for so long.”

It was nearing one in the morning. They were on their way back from the convenience store where they bought ice so that Jiyong can place it against his eye. They also bought a ton of beer because Jiyong wanted to, a number of snacks because Youngbae wanted to, and a large tub of ice cream because Seunghyun wanted to.

Jiyong wasn’t in the slightest bit amused.

“I have a photoshoot tomorrow, Bae-ah. How could you?” he complained.

Youngbae rolled his eyes. “You deserve it, Ji.”

“For what?” Jiyong cried exasperatedly. “What did I do to you?”

Youngbae gave him another smack upside the head. “Not to me, idiot. Seungri.”

“Well, he’s never punched me in the face so what gave you the right?”

“The fact that he hasn’t. Seungri’s too soft when it comes to you. I’m just exercising his rights for him.”

“But, , did you really have to punch me that hard?”

“Yes.”

“Real mature, Bae. Real mature.”

Youngbae pushed the door to the studio open, letting the others file in before he closed it behind him. Jiyong headed straight from the couch, immediately availing himself of a can of beer, finishing it all in one go. They weren’t getting any work done anymore.

Youngbae also opened a bag of chips for all of them. “I just don’t understand, Ji. If you love him, why hurt him?”

Jiyong sighed, reaching for another can with one hand, while the other kept a plastic filled with ice tubes on his blackened eye. “I thought I stopped,” he breathed. “For a long time, I was sick of him. I was sick of him but I couldn’t let him go. He was like that song in my playlist I never actually listened to anymore, but still kept in there just in case.”

“Selfish,” Seunghyun commented simply.

“I know.” Jiyong didn’t deny.

“And now?” Youngbae prompted. “Do you want him back?”

Jiyong shrugged. “Maybe. I think I do. I think I also just want him back because someone else is trying to take him away.”

Seunghyun’s eye twitched. Jiyong sounded so calm, so confident, so opposite from how he was just a week ago. “He might be already taken, Ji. Seungri’s been… he’s been telling me a lot about the London guy. He smiles in that way I only saw with you.”

Jiyong frowned and gave him a side glance. “Did he also tell you that they aren’t official? And that Seungri thinks there’s still something missing?”

“No.”

Jiyong smirked. “Well, he told me. So Trevor Bennet can try all he wants but he will never get Seungri. Maknae is mine, remember?”

Youngbae, exchanging his bag of chips for Seunghyun’s tub of ice cream, pouted. “When did Seungri start talking to you?”

Jiyong hummed. “A couple of days ago? He started answering some of my calls, saying something like Seunghyun-hyung beating him up because I was being too harsh on Youngbae-hyung. I have you guys to thank for that, I guess?”

Seunghyun grabbed him by the collar and made the leader look him in his serious eyes. Menacingly, he said, “Tell me, Ji. Are you not even the slightest bit afraid you’re going to lose him?”

Jiyong took his ice-frozen hand and pried himself away from Seunghyun’s grip. “Of course I’m afraid, . Don’t be stupid.”

“Then why the aren’t you doing anything about it?”

“I’m in the studio, aren’t I? I am doing something about it,” is all Seunghyun gets cryptically in return.

Six days later, Seunghyun found himself in the studio, helping Jiyong with the track’s bass beats and flow, slowly bringing it as close to perfection as they can. There was still this unsettling feeling in his stomach that Seunghyun has learned to ignore and leave unannounced. His phone started buzzing.

Y BOii flashed on his screen, waiting for an acceptance for a video call, and Seunghyun has missed him so much, he didn’t take a second. It was a little before 11AM in Korea, which meant it was a little before 3AM in London.

“Seung-hyuuuuuung!” Seungri drawled from the screen, his image lagging at first as if the connection was bad.

Seunghyun laughed. “Ri, are you drunk?” he rhetorically asked; Seungri obviously was. Jiyong grabbed him by the shoulder to look over it, temporarily forgetting the song for a peek at the maknae. It was futile, though. The camera was too close to Seungri’s face, all that could have been seen was his nose.

“Yes, hyung,” Seungri confessed, never one to deny his state of inebriation.

“Of course you are,” Seunghyun scoffed. “Take the camera farther from your face, baby. Let me see you.”

“Aw, hyung, you’re flirting – ow, okay. Hold on, gonna head outside.” The thumping of the bass was heavy, even through Seunghyun’s speakers and it was intense how loud the club was. There were people catcalling Seungri in the background with their excited Seungri’s and seductive Riri’s, but soon all the noise died down and the screen displayed Seungri’s face in an angle expertly brought about by a selca king.

“You shouldn’t flirt with me when I’m drunk, hyung,” Seungri continued. “I might jump you from here all the way to Seoul.”

Seunghyun felt like his heart literally stopped. Judging from the way Jiyong’s grip tightened on his shoulder, Jiyong must have felt the same way. The eldest felt like his tongue was stuck in his throat.

Seungri moaned over the silence of the studio. “Seunghyunnie, say something. Please. I miss you, like a lot, a whole lot, like I-wish-you-were-here a lot, like I-wanna-sit-on-your-lap-and-take-a-nap a lot.”

God help him, Seunghyun almost acquiesced.

“Riri,” Seunghyun gulped, “you, are you wearing make-up?”

Now, none of the members were strangers to make-up. With all the bright lights on stage and constant camera flashes, they weren’t allowed to not at least look like they just got up from a salon chair. But among the members, Seungri was the most naturally pretty one. Seunghyun’s and Jiyong’s skins needed great attention from all the smoke they’ve inhaled into their systems, Daesung would never leave without at least a fair amount of foundation and color on his lips, and Youngbae was more handsome than he was pretty.

Seungri, though. Seungri was breathtaking. So much so, but only in the way that everyone close to him could see. Seungri was a diamond uncut, imperfect – natural in his roughness around the edges and covered in the dirt of undue assumptions and buried behind the shine of all the others. Yet Seunghyun still thought he was the prettiest of them all, for Seungri’s brilliance was blinding; Seungri’s shine came from within with the sort of light and warmth only people who’ve gone through darkness could provide.

Seunghyun lost his voice as Seungri batted his eyelashes.

“I am, I am,” Seungri confessed softly. “Shiver did it for me, isn’t she great? I look gorgeous.”

Seunghyun could only nod. Seungri was glittered and his eyes were dusted with reds and pinks and golds that complimented his complexion so well. His lips were slick and shiny like he had just came up from the most intense make out session, like he had done naughtier things, more sinful things with them. His cheeks were flushed, maybe from blush, maybe from alcohol, but nevertheless beautiful.

Seungri looked elven with his white hair long and sticking up artfully, and Youngbae’s earring blinking in the light.

“Take a picture and send it to me,” Jiyong whispered in his ears, sounding as breathless as he felt.

“Send me a pic, Ri,” Seunghyun repeated louder, but he screen capped it too, just to be sure.

Seungri giggled. “Only if you send me one too, Hyunnie,” he said with a wink.

Seungri was a when he was drunk. He would shamelessly flirt and touch and tease and let himself be grabbed by anyone he so pleased. He was, undeniably, iest when he was drunk. For all his aversion to public displays of affection, all those troubles flew out the window the moment he has had enough alcohol in his system. Drunk Seungri was a headache. Drunk Seungri might get himself someday.

Thankfully, Seungri had learned to control his alcohol over the years, or at least, if he couldn’t control himself, he only got drunk around people he could trust, like Daesung who was most immune to Seungri’s seductive charms. Then again, Daesung, although not as loose, was as hot as Seungri when he was drunk. With Daesung and Seungri there, both probably running on alcohol alone, Seunghyun has no idea how London hasn’t exploded from the intense heat.

Lord knew Seunghyun almost always did whenever they’d had drinking sessions.

Given, Jiyong had always been there to hold on to Seungri, and Seungri had always been solely Jiyong’s whenever the leader was around. Jiyong loved it, to be able to touch and be touched in a way Seungri rarely let him when he was sober. More often than not, Youngbae had to pry them apart when Jiyong’s eyes started to get hooded with too much lust and Seungri practically giving Jiyong a in front of anyone who was there to see.

All of the members had a lap full of Seungri at one or two points in their lives, when Jiyong wasn’t available and Seungri needed to get loose. Seunghyun had to remind himself then that he was a good man who had morals and didn’t take advantage of their drunk maknaes when they were drunk. Youngbae usually held Seungri close and let Seungri whisper sweet nothings in his ears, never let Seungri’s hands stray too far down and let himself get kissed on the neck, on the shoulders, on his hands, on the cheeks, on the forehead, behind his ears, but never anywhere else and never when it became too much. Seungri, amazingly, was most subdued in Daesung’s arms, like he was the kept woman of some Mafia lord, and the both of them were too much to handle, too intense to look at even when Daesung just sat there with his legs splayed wide open, Seungri sitting snugly between them, his arms comfortable around Daesung’s hips, head resting on his chest.

Jiyong hated it. But he had no choice.

Funny thing was, whenever Hanna or Seungri’s parents were around, Seungri was different, like he was the most responsible drunk on the face of the Earth. It was inexplicably boggling.

Suddenly, an arm wrapped around Seungri’s shoulder. “Bloody hell, flower. I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you,” a voice sounded in proper English over the line.

The video shook and then refocused, showing Trevor Bennet all over their youngest. It was the first time Seunghyun put a face to the name, and he wasn’t at all disappointed with the Londoner’s face. He had the same boyish charm that Seungri had – the same style as well with his white baseball cap in reverse and a sleeveless shirt that must have cost hundreds of dollars, showing off his toned arms and sides.

Trevor whispered something in Seungri’s ear that had the boy snickering attractively and turning his head toward the other. Seunghyun loudly cleared his throat.

Seungri’s eyes flashed to the camera, embarrassed that he forgot he was talking to someone on the phone. “Trevor,” Seungri said softly in English, “this is Seunghyun-hyung. Say hi.”

That was wrong, Seunghyun thought. It was wrong that Seungri sounded so right. Seungri never talked softly if he were talking in a language he was not confident in. Last time he’s checked, Seungri wasn’t confident in English. Heck, it wasn’t perfect, even to Seunghyun’s ears, but he sounded so much better, almost surpassing Jiyong or Youngbae. His pronunciation wasn’t wholly American either. It was subtly mixed with an English accent, and Seunghyun didn’t know how to deal with that fact.

“Annyeong, Seunghyun-ssi,” Trevor said in full blown Korean. “It’s nice to meet you. I hope I get to see you personally soon. I’m a big fan.”

And, , from what Youngbae has told him, Trevor shouldn’t have sounded that good. Youngbae had whined, he remembered, how the meeting had dragged because Trevor had to rely on his translator more than half of the time.

“Seungri here couldn’t stop babbling about you,” Trevor went on. Seungri blushed. “He’s all Seunghyun-hyung this, Seunghyun-hyung that, I was almost jealous!”

Seunghyun laughed awkwardly, despite his heart warming at the thought of being on Seungri’s mind. “Jiyong’s here too,” he said for lack of anything else to say. Seunghyun angled his camera such that both of them were in the frame.

Jiyong gave a tight smile from behind the eldest. “Hey.”

Seungri shrieked excitedly. Trevor and Jiyong startled. Seunghyun almost dropped his phone.

“Oppa! Jiyongie-oppa!” Seungri cried. “I miss you so much, oppa. Come and see me, oppa. I miss you.”

Seunghyun watched Jiyong from the corner of his eye. Jiyong smiled, gently, all too happy to hear words Jiyong long wished to hear. “Should I take a flight tonight, jagi?” Jiyong asked, fondness obvious in the use of the old nickname. “Take care of you when you’re hungover?”

“I can do that, though,” countered Trevor, tugging Seungri all the more closer, dared to even kiss him on the cheek.

“Yah!” Seungri shoved Trevor’s face away, definitely embarrassed, definitely not hating it. “I told you no kisses.”

“I just thought you meant not on the lips, flower. I didn’t mean to make your heart thump or anything like that.”

Seungri laughed. “That’s not what I meant!”

“Yo! Yo!” a new voice called. Seungri and Trevor looked to their left, giving their attention to the person off-screen. “Kit’s tryin’ to ride Daesung while ‘es sleepin’. You gotta save ‘im, Ri!”

“Oh, I got to see this,” Trevor uttered under his breath and dashed off.

Seungri watched him with eyes that spoke of uncertainty and chance, of choice and hope. Seunghyun didn’t want to read into it so he said the only thing that came to his mind.

“I think Daedae needs you now, Ri,” Seunghyun snickered.

Seungri scoffed. “Yeah.”

He paused.

Then he looked into the camera and somehow Seunghyun knew that the maknae’s stare went right through him and landed on Jiyong. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Goodnight, Seunghyun-hyung,” Seungri said in finality, forgetting it was morning in Korea. “You can come too so I can take a nap on your lap.”

Seungri winked just before the line went dead. Seunghyun felt like his heart was trying to break free from his ribcage.

Jiyong grabbed his keys and his wallet, moved to leave, then came back for his phone.

“Where are you going?” Seunghyun inquired, eyeing the computer Jiyong neglected to shut down.

“You heard him, didn’t you?” the leader answered, his phone already on his ear. “Hyung? Hi. Yeah. I’m flying to London. Tonight.”

“Well, what did he say, then?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Not a thing.”

“Then what?”

“He walked out. He just stood up, and walked out.”

“That’s it?”

“No, he came back.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, at 3AM, drunk out of his mind.”

“Ouch, okay, and then what?”

“Then we never talked about it again.”

“Why not?”

“What was the point? He said he didn’t want me anymore.”

Weeks passed.

“Do you love him?”

“Who?”

“Who else?”

“I love you.”

“Don’t be cheeky.”

“It’s true.”

“But not like that.”

“You only wish it were.”

“You only wish it were.”

“Ah, I