A/N: I can only say that I’m sorry for this, but this chapter is set on the 12th of June 2019, so I think you already know nothing good is coming out of it. There are some references to what happened, but they’re very vague, as I didn’t want to indulge into them and didn’t want to make it seem like I was making assumptions about the whole situation. I’m saying this just so you’re warned.

Also, a lot of me cursing out the k-pop industry and some company we all know.

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ksy - june 12, 2019

From: Hanbin
 
I’m leaving today
 
He’d seen that coming, but that didn’t stop him from feeling a sharp pain in his chest, as if he’d just been shot through the heart. He’d seen that coming, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell.
 
Everything seemed to be falling apart and he was sure nothing would ever be the same, after everything that had happened to the company; it was a wound that would probably leave a scar, and no one was ready to accept it.
 
He hated it. Hated it more than anything, because Hanbin was being forced to leave his group and he knew too well how difficult it was, to keep going knowing there was a void that could never be filled again. And this was even worse than simply losing a member, because the younger wasn’t leaving on his own terms, he was being ripped apart from and abandoned by everyone who had sworn to protect him, as if all the love he’d received had just been a lie.
 
They were giving him the illusion of a choice, but everyone knew that they wanted him out because he would only bring a bad name to the company. And Hanbin probably thought that staying would only damage his group more than it already was, and he knew how much he hated the idea.
 
He still remembered, clear as day, what had happened two days before, when the younger had come frantically knocking on his door, and he’d immediately understood that something was wrong. He’d looked so lost it’d broken his heart. And then he’d told him that everything was over, that his dream was over, that his whole life was over. He hadn’t even cried, as he said those words, he’d just seemed resigned, like he was accepting his fate.
 
He hadn’t told him exactly what had happened, because he’d figured out that he would find it out by himself. He had. It would’ve been hard not to understand what was going on, as it was all over the internet and things were still looking bad.
 
But that night, he’d let him sleep in his arms, and had remained awake looking at him, selfishly thinking that he didn’t want to lose him after finding him again.
 
He hadn’t even been surprised when he’d sent him a message telling him he’d decided he was going to leave, just the day before; he hadn’t found the strength to ask him if that had actually been completely his choice, but he couldn’t blame him for it, either. And now he was stuck there, in front of his door, helplessly waiting for him, knowing what was to come.
 
He wasn’t sure what was going to happen and he couldn’t do anything to fix the situation, he could only stand back and wait, wait, and wait for everything to calm down and go back to normal, but he knew how unforgiving people were. Sometimes it made him impossibly enraged, but he couldn’t oppose, he could only plaster a fake smile on his face and pretend he didn’t want to curse the world for being so awful.
 
Music was still his dream and would always be, but he couldn’t lie to himself and say he hadn’t realised just how cruel and prejudiced their industry was, that everyone was just waiting for them to falter and make a mistake to jump on them like wolves ready to tear their flesh away.
 
They weren’t allowed to be people, they could only be a white pretty face that needed to be watched, they only counted if they won, they weren’t allowed to complain, they couldn’t be themselves; they just had to be what everyone expected them to be, empty, emotionless porcelain dolls with no voice other than to sing. He was used to live with that knowledge, but that didn’t mean he didn’t hate it anyway, and he was so tired of trying to be perfect.
 
And, now, there he was, knowing that he had to accept to see another person leave, completely powerless, unable to stop it, even though he knew it was wrong; he’d given that company everything, all his life, he’d given his childhood up for them, and that was how they repaid him?
 
He deserved better; he was furious, he couldn’t believe something like that was happening. He couldn’t even protect him, he couldn’t speak up and say what he wanted to say, he had to pretend he didn’t even know him, while he’d been friends with him since he joined YG, he knew how much he’d given to reach his dream, to get s to debut, he knew how much he’d suffered.
 
He didn’t want to give up on him, not in that moment, not like that; he just wanted to scream, just scream to the world that—he didn’t even know, he just wanted everyone to see that he wasn’t perfect, maybe, but still deserved the whole universe for everything that he’d done, and not that. , it was so unfair. His mind couldn’t produce any other thought, it completely refused to.
 
He was abruptly brought back out from his thoughts by a soft and almost inaudible knock on the door of the apartment, which he’d been coincidentally standing in front of since he’d received that message, knowing that they didn’t really have much time; he tried not to think about the fact that he wouldn’t see him again for a long time, and that everything was going to become extremely weird once he left.
 
He opened the door and grabbed Hanbin by the hand, pulling him inside and immediately wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug; he sensed him rest his head on his shoulder and let out a shaky sigh.
 
They remained silent for a moment, trying to find comfort in each other’s warmth; he could feel just how fast his heart was beating and he knew that his own wasn’t calmer. Something broke inside him when he realised the younger was trembling, and tried to pretend it was only because it was cold and not because he was scared. Thinking about how afraid he probably was, when he usually was one of the most fearless people he knew, made him sick.
 
That was what they’d made of him, and he hadn’t done anything wrong, nothing ever; he’d never given up and now he was being forced to do so, if he wanted to protect his group, and everyone knew there was nothing he wouldn’t do for s, his brothers. He understood it, and knew he wasn’t afraid of what was going to happen to him, he didn’t want to leave them alone, because he wouldn’t be able to stand in front of them and take all the bullets meant for them; he was scared something was going to happen to them and there would be nothing he could do to shelter them.
 
They separated after what felt like mere seconds, almost hearing the sound of a physical clock counting down on the time they had, ticking unavoidably; looking at his face, Seungyoon noticed the already dried tears on his cheeks, and realised he must have cried when he left his bandmates just minutes earlier. He’d probably tried not to, had probably tried to look strong for them, as he always did, but emotions that were too strong to fight had evidently taken over his willpower.
 
He took his face into his hands, like he’d done so many times before and started to feel a bittersweet taste on his tongue, knowing that it was the last time. He caressed his cheekbones, trying to look at him until all his features were branded in his mind, hidden in a secret compartment where no one other than him could ever find them; his eyes, glistening with so much sadness it was almost impossible to watch, his dishevelled and uncharacteristically fair hair, the curve of his nose, his plump lips, the line of his jaw.
 
Hanbin forced a smile, as if trying to reassure him that he was going to be fine, even though it was clearly a lie, and he decided that the only thing he could do was lean in and try to kiss away his sadness, because there was nothing else he could do, he was completely powerless; the younger kissed him back, quietly, but with so much desperation he’d kept hidden until then they almost lost their balance.
 
He didn’t even dare to close his eyes in fear that he would disappear if he did, and that he would be left alone asking himself over and over again why the world was so unfair. They broke apart only when it was necessary, their foreheads still touching, their breaths uneven.
 
“I need you to lie to me,” Hanbin murmured after a moment, his eyes half-closed, his voice unstable as he’d never heard it before. “I need you to tell me you don’t love me,” he nodded slightly, before leaving another kiss on the edge of his lips.
 
“I don’t,” if someone had heard him without knowing why he was saying it, they would have known that it was the most blatant lie he’d ever said, because he hadn’t even tried to make it sound like he actually meant it; and he knew that the other wasn’t going to believe it, but he was the one who’d asked him to deceive him, so that he could at least try to convince himself it was the truth. Hanbin stepped back, slipping away from his arms and out of reach, his eyes a dark pit of hopelessness.
 
“Yeah. Me neither,” he said back, without even blinking, his voice undemonstrative, his smile sadder than usual. “I’m going,” he said, matter-of-factly, and turned to the door as if he was just some kind of android with pre-imposed decisions; then, he stopped, his back to him, like he’d been suddenly overtaken by uncertainty.
 
He was faltering. He’d never seen him falter before, not completely, not that way; he was always sure of where he was going, of was he was trying to reach, but, now, he was walking back to a life he had never known before. For him, that wasn’t going to be freedom, it was just going to be hell; a hell of trying to prove that he’d never done anything wrong, but without anyone to protect, without anyone to impress, just—alone.
 
He reached out a hand to touch his shoulder, when the younger suddenly jumped back to him and kissed him again, catching him off guard; he’d never thought he would feel even more sorrow than before, but there he was.
 
He didn’t know why he’d stopped, he didn’t know why he’d acted so irrationally, but he should’ve remembered that he’d never made the most reasonable choice when it came to him. Maybe because he’d never expected anything from him, and had always see him just as Kim Hanbin, not as B.I, not as the next G-Dragon, just as a boy with fears and scars, and maybe because he was the only person the younger had never been afraid to disappoint.
 
They’d been there for each other for a while, in the same world and yet, somehow, apart; they were each other’s secret place, and had always been.
 
“Can you give me your phone?” he asked just as they separated, their lips brushing together; Seungyoon didn’t ask the reason why, he just took the device out of his pocket and handed it to the other, who looked through it, typing in something and giving it back. With one last smile, he explained, softly: “I said I would be back as the wind once I was gone.”
 
Then, he finally left, letting his fingers linger on the back of his hand for barely a second, so little he almost didn’t feel it at all, before walking out of the door and out of their lives for good; the older stayed still where he’d been, trying to ignore the lonely tear gliding down his cheek, looking down at his phone, where the name of one of his contacts had been changed to ‘wind’.
 
“I guess this is a goodbye.” he whispered to no one. “See you around, Kim Hanbin.”