Jae Suk's POV

 

 

They say the older you get, the wiser you become.

 

Can anyone point out to me who said that? Cause I'd very much like to power kick them to the next century. Provided I could still lift my off this slick pavement where I'm currently sprawled. Allow me to forego the niceties and bombard you young people with the truth: AGING . Do yourself a favor and don't grow up.

 

A disgruntled sigh escaped my lips as I raised my eyes to the brightening sky, the main reason why I went outside in the first place. If the saying was indeed true, I should've been wise enough to wake Mino up so he could transfer the pots to the front yard and save myself from injuring my already fragile back.

 

Successfully pushing myself up from the ground, I entered the house and proceeded to climb the stairs, one hand on my low back while the other clung to the handrail for dear life. The whole house was peaceful as it usually did in the early mornings, the slight creak of the steps the only sound echoing in the silence.

 

I had meant to go straight to Mino's room to drag him out of bed, but I decided to turn to the next hallway the last minute. The squirt was a cause for aneurysm, that much was true, but it was unfair to disturb his sleep when he deserved a couple more hours in bed after working overtime at the local restaurant last night.

 

The competition held two weeks ago didn't exactly come with a pot money since technically, it was a charity event, so life continued the way it did, with us juggling two to three jobs to make ends meet. Besides, I knew Mino was saving up the extra cash so he could use it when they go to that boot camp by the end of the month.

 

Soon enough, I found myself standing before Dara's door, the huge sign that said: Keep Out greeted me in painfully bright colors. Softly knocking to make sure I don't wake up the next tenant on the adjacent room, I planted my cheek on the door and called out her name.

 

"The snow's starting to melt," I explained in a low voice. "I'm going to the market to get some fertilizer for the garden. Wanna come?"

 

I heard some rustling from the inside. So she was awake. It was then followed by a muffled thump.

 

"Dara?" I knocked, this time a little louder. "Hey, you alright in there?"

 

No answer.

 

I waited a few beats more before my instinct told me something was wrong. "You know what, I'm coming in." I tentatively turned the knob and when it clicked easily, I swung the door open to let myself inside. "Ya, didn't you hear—"

 

I stopped on my tracks.

 

Dara was slumped on the floor at the edge of her bed, her messy hair creating a curtain over her face. Two feet away and just outside the bathroom was a pool of her own vomit. My brain jumpstarted my legs into action and momentarily forgetting the strain on my back, I practically ran toward her, my eyes assessing her body for any injuries.

 

"What happened?" I asked, trying and obviously failing to mask the worry in my voice.

 

She gripped the sheets, the veins on the back of her hand popping from the effort. "My throat...it feels..." She didn't even have the energy to finish her sentence and merely pointed to the mess on the floor. "S-sorry," she apologized, her hand falling to her lap.

 

"Don't worry about it."

 

I helped her sit up. That's when Dara raised her head and I finally noticed the trail of blood on her shirt. I gasped in horror as I took in the sight of her nose and the blood steadily dripping out of it.

 

"Jesus, Dara."

 

Immediately grabbing the box from behind her head, I pulled out a bunch of tissues and handed it to her. She was moving sluggishly so I decided to stop her nosebleed myself, tilting her head slightly forward. "Breathe through your mouth," I instructed while pinching the bridge of her nose between my thumb and index finger.

 

"How long has it been?"

 

Her eyes fluttered shut, her brows meeting at the center as she tried to recall. "I don't know...four...maybe five—"

 

"Minutes?"

 

She grimaced. "Hours," she weakly whispered.

 

"Since the first attack?" I ran a hand over my face in frustration. "And you didn't think of waking me up?!" My voice grew a little louder this time. She gripped my hand, her face getting paler by each passing second.

 

"Samchon..."

 

"What?" I leaned forward so I could hear what she was trying to say. "What is it?"

 

She turned slightly to glance at the open door, her chest heaving up and down in an effort to breathe through the pain. "You're going to wake them," she croaked.

 

I couldn't care less if they heard me screaming, but knowing how Dara hates inconveniencing others, I had to address her concerns no matter how insignificant they were.

 

"Put some pressure on it," I firmly commanded right before standing. In three strides I reached the door and swiftly closed it. Walking toward her dresser, I found the pill organizer she usually stows behind her lamp. Flipping open the compartment with the Sunday label, I took out a blue pill and grabbed the bottle of water from the table. I then returned to crouch in front of Dara, handing her the medicine.

 

"Did you forget to take one last night?" I asked as she drank some water.

 

"No."

 

"Then why are you like this?" She heaved as another bout of nausea hits her. I lightly rubbed her back, making slow circles with my palm to help alleviate the pain. "Alright. I'm calling Bom's father." When I tried to reach for my phone, her hand caught my wrist to stop me.

 

"Don't," she pleaded and used my arm as a lever to pull herself up. I caught her by her waist and settled her gently on the bed. "The doctors can't come here."

 

I studied her for a few seconds and instantly recognized the reason as to why she's resolved on not getting medical attention at home where it's convenient.

 

"You don't want them to find out," I solemnly stated. She nodded. I found myself sighing. "If this is because of Jiyong—"

 

"It's Mino," she interjected with a slight shake of her head. "I don't want him to worry."

 

I took my glasses off and rubbed my temple, acutely aware of how she'd been quick to shoot down what I had to say. "You don't need to bother hiding it from him."

 

She gave me a questioning look as she removed the stained tissues from her nose. The bleeding had stopped at least.

 

"What are you saying? Does Mino...know?"

 

I sat down beside her, putting my glasses back on before reaching for her hand. "Remember that night last Christmas Eve when the kitchen sink broke and I needed to get some tools from the shed?" She nodded. "Well, I asked Mino to retrieve the spare key from your room. I knew you kept it on the bowl by the door so I told him specifically to just swipe it from the outside." I shook my head as I remembered the questions he started asking. "You know how inquisitive Mino is. He saw your pills. Then saw the prescriptions and the hospital diary. He put two and two together."

 

She sniffled, wiping her nose with the collar of her shirt. "How much does he know?"

 

"That your sick to an extent. He has an idea it's somewhat serious."

 

She nodded mechanically, her fingers toying with her bracelet. "That explains why he's been acting strange around me."

 

"I didn't tell him the truth about your condition and thankfully he didn't press for more." I tapped her hand. "He's a good kid."

 

"I know," came her muffled reply.

 

She was about to say something else when violent spasms racked her frail body and she almost slipped to the floor again if I hadn't caught her. It lasted for about ten seconds before she stopped writhing in my arms.

 

"That's it. I'm taking you to the hospital," I said, the finality in my voice leaving no room for objections. I made sure she was stable on the bed before ambling my way to her closet, grabbing the duffel bag we always prepared for emergencies like this. I walked back to where Dara was.

 

"You need to change into something warmer," I suggested, noting that she was still wearing her flannel pajamas. "It's not that cold anymore, but you need the extra protection. They're still fast asleep so we can leave without them noticing."

 

She nodded. While she was changing in the bathroom, I took out my phone and started typing. I knew she'd probably resent me for this, but I can't just stand idly and watch her suffer. 

 

'I need your help.' Quickly adding it before I lose a nerve, I typed: 'It's about Dara.'

 

With a dejected sigh, I pressed the send button. Not many seconds later, I received a reply.

 

'Let's meet over dinner by the end of the month. I'll text you the location.'

 

"Samchon."

 

I hastily slipped the phone in my pocket and helped her out.

 

"What will you tell them?" She nervously asked.

 

For a moment, I thought she was talking about the text message and I felt a bead of sweat roll down my nape. "Tell who?"

 

"The boys."

 

I almost slumped in relief. "Don't worry about it. I'm sure I can come up with something."

 

 

GD's POV

 

*PLONK*

 

My face hitting the floorboards did a good job of me out of yet another blissful slumber. Rubbing my left cheek, I slowly crawled out of the cocoon of blankets that threatened to cut off my air supply and groggily sat up, stretching my arms over my head with a yawn. The room was bathed in darkness since I let the curtains down the night before, a habit I had acquired from years of trying to hide from those annoying paparazzis. Blinking the sleep away, I looked over the dresser and read the time.

 

9:00 A.M.

 

Daebak. I slept for eleven hours straight. No nightmares, no nothing. That green tea Dara leaves outside my room every night really does the trick. I mean, I never actually saw her put it there, but the handwriting scrawled on the colorful post-it note was definitely hers. Plus, she's the only one who knows I have trouble sleeping.

 

Just then, my phone rang.

 

I reached under the pillow, thumping the foam with less vigor as my fingers searched for the infernal thing. When I finally found it, I pressed the answer button and held it between the bed and my ear. "Yoboseyo?"

 

"Are you still sleeping?"

 

"What do you think?" I growled into the receiver.

 

Youngbae chuckled on the other line and I could distinctly hear the sound of our song playing in the background. "Yo, Jiyong just woke up, man," I heard him tell someone. Then he laughed again. "Nah, he gets really cranky in the mornings."

 

"Ya, who you talking to?"

 

"Hold on, I'll put you on speaker."

 

I heard a click and my eardrum immediately bled from the shrill screams that came from the other line.

 

"Jiyong-ah!!!"

 

"Hyuuuung!!"

 

Aiiiisssht these bastards. Also putting it on speaker mode, I tossed my phone to the center of the bed.

 

"Bro, how are you?" TOP-ssi asked in his signature deep voice. "How's the view?"

 

"Do you catch your own fish?" The amusement in Youngbae's voice was undeniable. "Daesung told me people in the countryside likes to fish."

 

"It's true," said Daesung with conviction. "My uncle takes me fishing everytime I come to visit."

 

"I bet they taught him to make fire out of stones, too."

 

I personally want to tackle Seungri right now.

 

"Ya, where do you think I am?" I snapped and ran a hand over my hair. "Just to educate your ignorant minds, the place I'm living in has an actual stove, a fridge full of meat, and a wifi password. It's not exactly the 1800s."

 

Seungri's boisterous laugh carried into my room from miles away. "That's good to hear, hyung. We're starting to think you're turning into some kind of hermit or something."

 

"Complete with the beard and a pot belly," YB jokingly added.

 

My horrified gaze automatically went to my stomach, patting it to make sure my abs were still intact. I'm overjoyed to report that they were.

 

"Anyway, we called to let you know that we're brainstorming for the MV shoot today so if you have the time—"

 

"He totally does," TOP-ssi felt the need to cut in.

 

"—we can do FaceTime later and maybe you can pitch some of your ideas. If you got any."

 

I buried my face on my pillow. It was weird how after weeks of living an ordinary life, I almost forgot the reason why I came here in the first place. Who would expect that a simple phone call would be just the thing to slap me back to reality? Aigoo.

 

"Jiyong-ah? You still there, bro?"

 

"Did we lose the connection?" Daesung asked.

 

"I'm still here," I mumbled and reluctantly stood up, scratching my chin as I walked toward the bay window to part the curtains. I raised a hand to shield my eyes from the sun's rays. "Is sajangnim going to join you today?"

 

YB's response was instantaneous. "Nah. He's flying to Japan on a business trip so we got the reins on this one."

 

That's good then. That means I don't have to worry about him nagging on the nonexistent progress in my work.

 

Stones stacked: 5. Songs written: 0.

 

He's going to kill me if he ever finds out. Okay, fine. He's going to berate me at the very least. But I'd rather not have any of that.

 

"Listen, I'll call you guys later. I have to go get ready."

 

"For what?" Seungri scoffed. "Is the great G-Dragon going to milk cows or something?"

 

I could hear TOP hyung sniggering and Daesung's cackle in the background. The evil maknae will pay for that little comment. 

 

"Dope chore, bro! Congrats!" 

 

YB's going down next.

 

"You're all dead when I get back," was the last thing I said before hanging up. I sighed and tossed my phone on the bed. Outside my window, the birds were chirping loudly and I belatedly realized that despite wearing only a thin shirt, I wasn't freezing. Judging from the clear skies and the dwindling amount of frozen icicles on the driveway, it was safe to assume that the winter season was almost over. 

 

With my stomach growling in protest, I ambled my way to the bathroom to freshen up before going down for breakfast. My reflection in the mirror though expected, had me recoiling in mild disgust. My hair totally resembled a breeding nest for pigeons. It was all over the place, sticking out to every direction and badly needing a haircut. I have to say, since I arrived here, my physical appearance had been the least of my priorities which probably explains the rapid hair growth. 

 

Oh well. Might have to visit the salon later today. I'll just ask Dara to come with me. She'd most likely refuse, but I can always find a way to bribe her. I found that boosting the hotel's popularity usually does the trick. 

 

I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and shaved, making sure to rid of the stubble. Then I  tried combing my hair so it wouldn't look like I grappled with a bully and had my roots pulled out from my scalp. When I deemed myself presentable, I grabbed a sweater and put it on before going down. 

 

The smell of bacon and eggs engulfed my senses and my stomach immediately made otherworldly noises. Doubling my pace, I basically dashed toward the dining room. 

 

"Lo and behold, the King awakens," teased Tae Hee with a smirk, sipping his morning coffee while scanning his phone. 

 

The other guys merely hummed in greeting, my driver reading the morning newspaper while Dong-Gil was busy focused on completing his Sodoku game. Mino was in the kitchen washing dishes. I leave them to it as I sat down and started filling my plate with food. Glancing around, I noticed that my usual seatmate was nowhere to be found, her place on the table totally cleared out.

 

"Did Dara eat already?" I asked while smearing jam on my bread. 

 

Dong-Gil glanced up from his set of numbers to shake his head. "I haven't seen Miss Park today."

 

I looked at Tae Hee. He shrugged. "I woke up minutes before you did."

 

Was she still asleep? Hmm. Must be one of those days. I took a bite of my sandwich and drank some of the coffee that Tae Hee prepared. "I'll just leave some food for her, then."

 

"No need."

 

I turned to see Jae Suk enter the house. He was carrying two large paper bags which I construed as the grocery.

 

"She's visiting the temple today. I dropped her there early this morning." 

 

I frowned. "But today's Sunday. Temple visits are on Thursdays." I knew that because I've been coming with her there for the past few weeks. 

 

Mino ambled his way out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on the apron tied to his waist. "Noona's at the temple?"

 

I didn't miss the weird look that passed between them. 

 

"Yeah," Jae Suk answered as he handed him the package. "Said she needed some time alone."

 

Mino slowly nodded and didn't say anything else. Which in itself was odd considering he's the kind of guy who always had a question up his sleeve. What are they hiding?

 

I continued to eat my breakfast, picking on it as my appetite waned, my brain occupied with thoughts on the tokki. Since that night of the concert, Dara and I had gotten rather close. Well, as close as she would allow it. She's a pretty secretive person, one thing that I'm assuming comes with being an introvert.

 

Don't get me wrong, she's vocal about some personal stuff, mostly information that I've coaxed out of her. She hates it when I ask too many questions so she answers them as quickly and as vague as she could. Nothing about family, of course. She only ever mentioned her father that night on the rooftop. I was hoping for a repeat performance, but until now, no invitation was handed out.

 

She did however invite me to the mountains so I could add another stone to my tower. Several times I tried to tell her it was kinda useless since I had nothing to wish for, but the peaceful look she always had when we go up there keeps my mouth shut. After all, I am a real man.

 

I also discovered my profound aversion to waking up early to catch the bus when we go babysitting. I usually end up drooling all over Dara's shoulder. I'd be more self-conscious if it had been another girl, but this was Dara. Attraction was a foreign concept to her, along with femininity and the right shirt size. On the bright side, time spent with the kids was slowly becoming addictive. I get to recreate my childhood memories which was fun. Even taught the triplets how to bike. Man, that had me knocked out for hours on end.

 

When the weekend rolls in, we do this barbecue sessions wherein Jae Suk puts up a wooden platform on the front yard, big enough so we could all fit in. Then we spend the night just talking, eating and drinking until the wee hours of the morning. Almost always, we wake up with a dreadful hang-over on the living room, thick blankets over our bodies and a tray of hot chicken noodle soup and bananas on the coffee table.

 

Sigh. If only reality was this simple. 

 

After minutes of moving the food around my plate, I finally gave up on breakfast and went back to my room to take a shower. When I finished, my hair still damp as I towel-dried it, I picked up my phone to check on Dara. Then I remembered not having her number. I don't have the faintest idea if she even has a phone. 

 

"Bummer," I muttered under my breath.

 

I walked to where my luggage was and started digging through the pile of clothes haphazardly strewn around. That's when I noticed the white material poking out between a pair of pants. I pulled it out and realized that it was a handkerchief. The very same one that wound around my injured hand over a month ago. I washed the blood off that night and it came out as good as new. Flipping it over, I traced the single letter embroidered on the thin cloth.

 

'D,' it said.

 

With a thoughtful smile, I folded the handkerchief and placed it at the bottom of my suitcase for safekeeping. I then changed into some comfortable sweatpants and a hoodie. With my head clear from the warm bath, I decided that it was the best time to start writing my music. I stopped in front of Dara's book cabinet and started rummaging through each compartment, in search of a notebook and pen. I found one kept inside a woven basket at the bottom of the rack, hidden behind a line of encyclopedias. Along with it was a box of crayons, pens, and a set of charcoal pencils. I had an inkling that behind the impenetrable brick wall she's carefully built around herself, Dara had a soft side to her. A side that made her a colossal hoarder for scratch papers. 

 

The quantity of doodled notes and words that didn't even make any sense was overwhelming, it was borderline insane. There were even magazine and newspaper clippings stashed into the mess. And by the looks of it, was brutally ripped from the original source. 

 

"Aigoo, Santokki." I shook my head while I scanned the rest of the notebooks, finally finding one that wasn't so torn and still had an adequate amount of blank pages. Returning the rest of the rubbish  papers to its proper place, I pushed the box into the farthest nook and straightened up. "Right, time to work." Opening the door, I made my way down the stairs, all the while clicking the retractable pen as I flipped the first page open. I stopped midway to the last step, my foot hovering in the air.

 

"Wait a minute..."

 

I read and re-read it about five times before I convinced myself that I wasn't hallucinating. Scrawled messily across the old wrinkled page were notes and not just any notes, but musical ones. Judging from the blot of ink at the bottom half of the second page and the missing quarter notes, whoever was the composer of the song had left it unfinished. Lucky for me, said composer seemed intent on marking her work since at the uppermost center where a title should be was a familiar drawing of a flower.