Part XIV
Lemon BoyAuthor's Note!
Hello! Sorry for the long wait ^^;; i got caught up over something.
Thank you for all the support you gave me and this fic. I hope that this update will quench all our nyongtory thirst :)
I do apologize if my narration seem underwhelming in here, i'm still a bit rusty.
Kindly comment your thoughts and suggestions.
Enjoy this update~
^_^
Part XIV
Jiyong wanted to say ‘ you’ to everything and just do all the things that are right. He was jittering, walking around in circles, mind unable to be at ease, voice barely able to remain steady.
Youngbae and Daesung were both tending to maknae, while TOP was out the door, most likely smoking—or even drinking.
They let him be. What they just witnessed, what they just figured out was happening to Seungri—it was too much. Everything was ing too much.
He clenched his fist and bit his lips. He wanted to scream—to yell at someone, maybe even Seungri and just rattle him so much until he’ll leak out his answers. WHY? Why the did he remain in that abusive relationship? And why? Why didn’t anyone let them know?!
The door opened and Jiyong paused in his circling to look at TOP. He had his hair ruffled, probably had been running his hands through it, he smelled briefly of liquor and smoke. They locked eyes and the air suddenly became heavy its almost suffocating.
Jiyong could see the guilt in his eyes, reflecting the ones in his.
TOP coughed and went to one of the sofa. He sighed and clenched his fist, as if he was about to pray. “How’s he?”
Jiyong scoffed. “We should’ve taken him to the hospital.”
“You know we can’t do that.”
Jiyong could barely stop himself. The emotions that was suffocating him, griping his heart until he could feel it bleeding, rushed out of him and he yelled back, “He’s hurt! Seungri was bleeding—that guy—that ing demon hurt him—”
“I know!” TOP yelled back, though he wasn’t still looking at Jiyong, he clenched his fist tighter, almost bruising his hands. “I—was there, ok? We…. Why didn’t we know?! Does his parents know? Does Yang know? Did they—Did they allow this? Did we allow this, Jiyong?”
Jiyong was taken aback by the raw emotions that was reflected in TOP’s eyes. He looked so utterly lost, so stupidly guilty, as if it were his bare fists which punched and hurt Seungri. And suddenly, he was taken aback to that time, when they were barely formed as a band and TOP wasn’t TOP but merely Seunghyun, a shy, insecure man, he looked at Jiyong as if his assurance would settle his troubled soul.
And the leader in Jiyong, flared to life. He kneeled before TOP and held his hand, stopping him from hurting himself. “It’s not…we didn’t know,” he whispered, hoping that his words would get through Seunghyun—and to himself.
There were tears in Seunghyun’s eyes, he didn’t bother wiping them away. “But we should’ve.”
A painful silence enveloped them. Jiyong felt as if his lips were sealed tight, he doesn’t know what else to say.
“Guys,” an uncertain voice spoke by the hallway.
Jiyong stood up, while TOP immediately wiped away his tears, coughing back the quiver in his voice.
Youngbae and Daesung appeared, they sat by in front of them, face swollen with guilt and worry.
“How’s he?” Jiyong asked, mind never leaving Seungri’s condition.
Daesung sighed, “He’s fine. Face is still swollen…but, he’s sleeping,” he sounded so unsure, as if he doesn’t even want to believe that he just saw the youngest in that condition.
As always, Youngbae was the voice of reason among their group. “We have to inform Yang.”
Jiyong scoffed, murmuring softly, “like he informed us?”
Youngbae sighed, “he might not know—”
“And how could he not?!” Jiyong yelled back, again falling back into his anger.
“Just as we don’t,” Youngbae fired back, playing the devil’s advocate. “Seungri—” he sighed, it’s almost as if the words he’ll about to say were thorns hurting his tongue, “he knew how to hide secrets, ok? He was always…guarded.”
Silence descended upon them, not one able to dispute Youngbae’s assessment. It is true, Seungri knew how to hide secrets when he wanted to.
Fate decided to intervene and help, Jiyong’s phone ring and “It’s Yang,” Jiyong told his bandmates. The others exchanged looks, worry in their eyes. “I’ll put it on speaker…”
And he answered the phone.
“Jiyong? How’s everything? Did you find Jacob and Seungri?” he sounded casual, yet years under his tutelage made them able to hint the worry hidden in his voice.
Jiyong was slow to answer, “Yes…”
Yang sighed and he gave a lighthearted laugh, his voice teasing, “hey, I know you’ll still jealous that you missed your chance Jiyong, but that’s not—”
“It’s not…I’m not…” the gravity of the situation weighted so heavy among them that not one even teased about the faint blush marring Jiyong’s cheeks.
Yang must’ve sense something over the phone because he was quic
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