G-Dragon sat on his bed, a sketchbook before him, working on a portrait of Seungri.  He missed his Panda - even though they shared an apartment, it seemed like the only times they were there recently were to sleep.  He missed the earlier times, before they’d gotten so busy, when they had time to just hang out and goof off.  

“Not that I don’t appreciate all the success Big Bang has had,” he said to himself as he smudged the shading underneath Seungri’s eye, “but sometimes I wonder what it’s all for.  What’s it good for if we can’t enjoy it?”

He know, though, that he didn’t really feel that way.  What he was doing now, both in and out of Big Bang, was what he had dreamed off doing ever since he and Taeyang had started their training.  He wouldn’t give it up for anything.  He was just feeling sorry for himself right now because he was sidelined with an ankle injury.

Seungri had gotten him a Segway to help him move around until his ankle healed.  He felt his eyes welling up as he thought of how much that gesture touched him.  Anyone else could have done it, but Seungri was the one who’d thought to do it.  He knew how much it meant for him to be able to get around and work even with his busted leg, but he also knew that he’d want to do it with a little more style than was possible on crutches or in a wheelchair.

Even the Segway wasn’t going to help him today, though.  He’d spent all day yesterday in the studio working on some mixes and apparently he’d done too much.  Today he was confined to his bed, manager’s orders, doped up on pain pills.  And as if the enforced idleness and the medicine weren’t bringing him down