I want you to suffer. So bad. I hate you so much. For once it should be you who suffers and not me. You are working hard everyday and everyday it's me who you let all your exhaustion and frustration feel in the evening. It's not like I am not hardworking. In fact, you are the one who makes me work. Who makes my body sweat, my voice hoarse and my brain turn itself upside down while attempting to meet all your standards.

“Your voice should be like this. Not like this.” You make a strange sound, almost like a duck. Please, let your brain do a twist while making a knot in your arms and eat your feet afterward. “Again.”

Yes. It is so easy to be with you. And if something is wrong, I am the one at fault. Something is broken? Oh, let's accuse Seungri. This will be fun. Is this what you are thinking? I should break you. And then you could accuse me rightly. Lying on the ground and looking up to me you would scream my name and throw curses at me because I hurt you so bad. That would feel good. 

Because exactly this you are doing to me and you even feel as good as I think I would do.

“You don't get this part right. Do it again.” The look in your eyes starts turning enervated and I am getting nervous.

You think you know me without even looking behind the facade I have built up over the years. You hate me because I don't fit your scheme. I know a bit of everything but nothing perfectly. I can act and sing and dance. And I can entertain. Together we entertain by playing a role of a brotherly friendship but after the show nothing is left. You don't like it how I start to steal your personal spotlight instead of being ignored by everyone like in our rookie days. I am important and you have to accept this fact.

“Just do this part right now! Why can't you do anything right?” Your voice is angry and I have to hold myself back to not shout at you. “I can. It is just not how you want it.”

I don't know why you you are acting like this only with me. Do you hate only me or everyone who is more popular than you? Strange how I want you to like me. I want to hit you and scream at you until you notice me and accept me as an equal.

“'How I want it' is the right way, ” you answer while leaning back in your chair. I hate it to be alone in the studio with you. Plus, the one to record as the last. “The others could do it as well,” you say the tenth time this evening. “I'm tired, can't we go home?,” I ask hesitating. “I am tired, too, and even I can do a better work than you now,” you nag back. “Why are you like this? Nobody can sing properly in this condition. Why do you only treat me like this? Do you hate me?,” I whisper the last question. Somehow I am glad there is glass between us for I can feel the tension now.

“A bit.” You stand up slowly and walk to the door. I suddenly feel sick, as if you had kicked me in my stomach. The door to the small room opens and your thin figure stands in front of me. “Why?” That's the only thing I can utter. “Because you are getting important. You can talk random stuff and everybody laughs. People are getting interested in you. Including me.”

Silence. My surprised self dares to speak up again after a few moments of me seeking and you avoiding my questioning gaze. “That is why? You are interested in me? In which way... I mean like-”

“- No. I mean, yes. Don't take it the wrong way,”you say, almost in a begging tone. Did I hearyou right? Do you treat me this way because you hate how you are starting to like me? That's paradox.

As if I was demanding an explanation you begin to chatter. That you had never liked me and always just wanted me out but as I grew up you liked how I transformed. I am a man now and I can handle things on my own. You also hate that I don't admire you that much anymore. You point out more than once that you don't like me that way but the tone in your voice makes it seem as if you want to add yet.

I take a step towards you. You take step back. “I will sort them out. My feelings, I mean,”you inform me, acting neutral and running your hand through your hair. “Maybe you don't have to,” I whisper to myself.

But you are already gone, fled through the door, out of the studio. I believe you fear my respond. As I lean against the wall, I think about how I won't let you sort out your feelings in the wrong way.

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A/N: I'm back :D . Well yes, I got a boyfriend (yay^^) and this means more inspiration but less time to write. I'm really sorry about that but I'll try starting to write again for you. I promise. Also, I really miss the nyongtori fandom, please help me getting into it again ;)