The Art of Spotting the Unreal

Or how Seungri became an active player in Hanbin's game

Seungri woke up with a pounding headache. Oddly though, it brought serenity in his otherwise confused mind.

How does one even supposed to wake up from what basically is a life filled with nothing but lies? He had lived a different life – one where he could sing for God’s sake! He didn’t even know that he had such voice range for singing, let alone as a voice instructor? He had lived his whole life by the script – study, go to school, make your parents proud—

Then suddenly, he’s out of the loop. His script scraped and thrown at the nearest trash—and burnt. The words were turned into ashes. And he doesn’t know what to follow anymore. His life became the very definition of chaos.

He doesn’t know what to think, what to feel, what to do.

So he sat up, his eyes blank as he stared at the wall in front of him. It’s bland, plain, simple, something he wished his life should have been.

A sighed escaped his lips. His throbbing head reminded him that the world isn’t merely a dream that he hoped to wake up from. This is his reality now, no matter how much it doesn’t make sense. He’s in it. He pulled up his knees and buried his head between it. A tear fell down from his cheeks.

He just felt….so lost. Like he was drifting in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, with no compass, no food, nothing but his mind as company. And he hated his mind, as much as it hated him. It whispered to him, how unwanted he is. Like a melody, it sings to him every night how he wasn’t enough.

Never for his parents. Who wanted an intelligent child.

Never for his lover. Jiyong. Who wanted someone that he could trust.

Why is he even here?

A knock pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked at the door and saw Hanbin’s head popped in. “Hi?” his smile was embarrassed, unsure, his whole body hiding behind the door. “May I come in?”

Seungri remained quiet. He averted his gaze and rested his head on the top of his knees. Why should he even ask him? He has no power here, no authority, he never had something. He was nothing.

So he remain mute. Didn’t even bother saying something.

What difference would it make anyway?

He heard Hanbin sighed, before the door opened wider, then it closed. He heard footsteps and the scrap of the chair beside him. At the corner of his eyes, he saw Hanbin took a seat.

See? What difference would it make if he said no? Nothing.

Like he, nothing.

Hanbin remained quiet. So do Seungri.

They’re at an impassive, like enemies at Chess, waiting for the other to make the next move.

Seungri’s patience ran thin first. A passing thought came to him. “Is he here?” He remembered that he had spent a peaceful night with his current boyfriend, Glory. He remembered them sitting in front of the television, talking about something, then someone knocked on the door—

Then nothing.

Hanbin had remained quiet.

It irked something in Seungri’s mind. He hated being ignored, being treated as if he was so insignificant. “Glory.” He spoke his name with a harder tone than intended. “Is he here?” he repeated, his eyes glaring.

Hanbin closed his eyes and shook his head.

He said nothing else.

Seungri sighed. What could he even do if Glory was here? How could he welcome him? Should he hug him? Kiss him? Pretend that he was that person that Glory fell in love with?

“I could be anyone you want me to be.”

Seungri gripped his hands into fist. Did he use Glory’s feelings against him? He knew that Glory had something for him, even before when he and Jiyong was together. Yet, Seungri—he went to him. He remembered crying to Glory when he found out about Jiyong’s betrayal. He remembered kissing him.

He suddenly felt nauseous, like his stomach was walking its way out of his throat.

Did he use Glory to paint the life he wanted?

Or was it the other way around?

Did Glory use his condition – his amnesia – to paint his love song? To make Seungri believed that he was his?

Is there anyone that he could trust?

Before he could think further, Hanbin suddenly spoke up – “Do you want to meet him?” he asked, as if it was an afterthought. Something that he knows he should ask but hated every syllable of it.

Seungri laughed at the thought. “Want?” A giggle escaped his lips. “Do I want?” it suddenly turned into hysterical laughter.

Anger boiled in his veins. “What I want?! I don’t ing know what to want anymore!” he screamed at Hanbin’s face.

Hanbin’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth but didn’t speak.

Se