The slam of the shutting door resounded deafeningly loud in the small recording studio. Her voice was still echoing in his head.

“Who was she, Jiyong? Who was it this time?”

She had cried. She had sobbed angrily. Demanding explanations he could not give. That he was not ready to give.

“Why? Why am I never enough?”

Beautiful, wonderful Dara. Her eyes had been rimmed red, her hair and clothes drenched because she had ran through the cold rain to talk to him. To demand answers. But he remained mum.

God, he loved her so much. Loved her so much that he was afraid of losing himself. Losing her. Mixed with his fear of commitment, his never ending thirst for new things and his unhealthy ego a poisonous mix was churning inside of him.

He rubbed his hand over his tired face and through his tangled hair. He had been in the recording studio since yesterday evening. She had been home alone when the dating scandal had hit the news and the internet. And when she arrived early in the morning, all Dara what got were the tired and cruel eyes of the man she believed to be the love of her life.

Suddenly a dark, deep voice sounded threateningly through the silence.

“You are a ing , Kwon.”

Jiyong slowly turned around and his eyes fell on the tall, lean muscled man on the threshold of the door.

Choi Seung-Hyun, aka Top.

Rapper extraordinaire, shy and socially awkward, alien, amazingly talented musician and deep inside one of the most frail and gentle souls Jiyong had ever met. Usually sporting an emotionless mask on his face, his bandmate’s eyes were now burning with fury and disgust, his chiselled jaw angrily set. Clad in dark blue jeans, a dark green V-neck sweater and a brown leather jacket, his body was thrumming with tension.

Jiyong sighed. Here he was. The knight in shining armour.

Over the last months Dara and Seung-Hyun had grown very close. Despite being shy and awkward with each other, they had always been friendly and polite. They had a certain connection as the aliens of their respective groups. It had been Dara, who realized how depressed and mentally stressed Seung-Hyun had become a few months ago. Had voiced her concern when he had begun dating a YG trainee, who had a questionable reputation within the company. But nobody had taken her fear for Seung-Hyun seriously. He was Top. He would be fine. So Dara had showed up at Seung-Hyun’s doorstep one night and demanded entrance.

Since then everything had changed.

Seung-Hyun had given up the heavy drinking, now only occasionally enjoying the fine wines he had become famous for. He had cut ties with the unhealthy people in his life and went to therapy. He had rediscovered his need to create music and was now often to be seen in the YG building, holed up in their recording studio.

But above all that he had become Dara’s silent shadow.

Several days a week they had lunch together in the YG cafeteria. Dark heads huddled together, seemingly having an endless amount of topics to discuss. And when Seung-Hyun had burst out laughing for the first time in years, as Dara was telling him a story, people knew that something drastically had changed. He seemed as if a heavy weight had been taken of his shoulders.

He had become Dara’s silent protector, guarding her zealously against any harm or from people who might treat her badly.

Jiyong remembered a party a few weeks ago. He had been drunk, high on all the female attention that was lavished on him when he had spotted Seung.Hyun comforting a distressed Dara. She had been very tipsy and seeing Jiyong again flirting with other girls made her reckless. But Seung-Hyun had hovered around her like a protective panther. Always keeping her close, ready to attack if anybody dared to lay a hand on her or take advantage of her weakened state of mind.

When Dara had left to go to the toilet, Jiyong had approached the brooding man.

Without any foreword, he had asked the question that had been hunting his mind for weeks.

“Do you love her?”

The tall man in front of him had looked him up and down.

“Do YOU love her, Jiyong?” he had asked.

“That’s none of your business. She is MY girlfriend!” Jiyong had replied.

Seung-Hyun had let out a dry, humourless laugh. “How nice of you to remember that.” he had hissed, turned around and left.

Jiyond had been so annoyed that he only realized later that Seung-Hyun had never answered his question.

“What do you want, Tabi? “ Jiyong asked tiredly, using Seung-Hyun’s old nickname, back in the present.

“Let me tell you something, GD.” he said threateningly low as he leaned his arms on the desk Jiyong was sitting at, Jiyong’s alter ego’s name sounding like a curse out of his mouth.

“Before I go after Dara, I want you to know that my patience is over. I have watched you abusing her for years and years. Throwing her crumbs of your so called love. Keeping her by your side, publicly staking claim on her, but chasing after some stupid famewhores who throw themselves at your feet. You hid her in the shadows like a dirty secret. Let her take the brunt of hate when rumours about you two broke out. I am done. You are my brother but I will not let you hurt her anymore. If she wants me, in whatever way she is ready for, I am going to take her from you. I am done being the good guy. I won’t give her up without putting up a fight. Are we clear?”

With that he turned around and walked out of the room, following Jiyong’s crying girlfriend.

Jiyong looked after him, his mind and heart in turmoil. He knew that Seung-Hyun was the better man. He adored Dara. Not in an innocent romantic way, but with the deep and raw desperation of a male searching for his forever mate.

And Jiyong wasn’t sure anymore if Dara would be able to resist. Jiyong might have pushed her away one time too much.

Seung-Hyun knew exactly where to go. Years ago, when he had needed some time alone from gruelling practice and noisy people, he had stumbled upon Dara in his secret hiding spot. She had looked at him with wide open eyes, had scrambled to her feet and had hurried away mumbling cute apologies. It had made him smile.

He climbed up the stairs, reaching the rooftop and turned the doorknob. Upon opening the door, the fragrant summer air hit him in the face. It smelled like fresh rain and wildflowers.

He heard her before he saw her. Her soft sobs echoing through the early morning air. When he saw her, his heart began to ache.

She was curled into a foetal posi