A/N: Please, let's not talk about the missing dialogues in this story, I know they don't talk a lot but I focus a lot on people's emotions so it kinds of make sense, in a way.

This chapter is from Hanbin's point of view (as most of the story is, in all fairness) and it's partly inspired by BEST FRIEND which I always considered a very suspicious song, for some obvious reasons ("if love is a sin, you're my prison" if you know what I mean)

tw// there are mentions of a panick attack? i don't know if that needs to have a trigger warning but it's better be safe than sorry.

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khb - 2016

Kim Hanbin had always known, probably since the day he was born, that his destiny was music; and he’d started chasing the star that was rightfully his before realising what it would take to reach it. Perhaps he wasn’t as special as he used to believe when he was just a child, but he’d never given up, and that was the reason why he’d achieved his dream. He’d quickly understood that it wasn’t going to be easy to become someone, to be seen, as soon as he’d entered YG Entertainment, surrounded by people who’d already snatched their part of fame, he’d understood that it was going to be difficult, but he’d told himself that he was going to get through it all with his head held high. With time, he’d gotten over many things, he’d found himself crawling on the floor, had breathlessly kept going even when he felt like dying.

He’d understood that a leader had more responsibilities than he’d initially thought, and had understood that he’d been born to be one. He’d understood that he needed to be strong, immovable, like a rock that can’t be swept away by the wind. He’d survived too many things that were supposed to kill him, even with the burden of a loss on his shoulders, he’d kept crawling, dragging s along with him, leading them to the future they ached for; he’d carried them all where they were supposed to be, ignoring the pain he felt, always pretending that he could do it when he felt like he was falling apart, and it’d worked.

They were fine. They were iKON; and he was proud of all of them, more than he was proud of himself. He’d lead them there, but he wouldn’t have done it without them; they were his family, everything he’d endured the pain and strain for, along with their fans.

And, knowing that he was born to be a leader and to pursue music, he’d always known that love wasn’t something for him. When everything had just started, he’d stopped to think about it maybe twice, for a brief moment, because he couldn’t allow himself more, he had songs to write, choreographies to practice and imperfections to fix; probably because love always seemed something so inborn in human beings, and seemed something you couldn’t run from (and, oh, how he wished it wasn’t true).

It wasn’t like he once didn’t comprehend the concept of love; it was all that fuss over ‘falling in love’ that used to confuse him. He’d always been so concentrated on the objective in front of him that he’d never stopped to take a look around; he’d never had time, always hunched over his work. Moreover, it was one thing he couldn’t allow himself to have, because he didn’t want any distraction, as a leader he had responsibilities many people couldn’t even begin to understand; and the thought of putting s in danger suffocated him. He was supposed to protect them, supposed to stand in front of them and take all the bullets meant for them; he couldn’t allow himself to be a target for something so fragile and futile as love to begin with.

He’d always perceived love as a waste of emotions and time and had never been ashamed of it.

In the middle of all that not understanding and telling himself that it wasn’t something that interested him or that he thought he needed, he’d clearly fallen in love with the least unexpected person he could find, while he wasn’t looking for anything.

Normal people fell in love and realised it slowly, he’d simply slipped one day and had found himself at the bottom of a ravine and had yet to crawl back up. He didn’t know if his brain had randomly decided that, since he was just a normal human being, even though he would have preferred to pretend that he wasn’t, he needed to fall for one of s—no, it was worse than that, for one of his best friends—, since they were right in front of him. When he’d finally come to that realisation, he’d also realised that he was in too deeply to save himself, and that he was already drowning.

Evidently, there were multiple problems: the first being that the other absolutely and unequivocally didn’t reciprocate his feelings, the second that he was a boy in love with another boy and he was terrified of what the consequences could be if someone found out, considering the society he lived in; third, and probably the worst of all of them, was that he couldn’t stop thinking about it for how much he tried and that was starting to wear him off.

Sometimes all he could do was run away from that awareness, climbing on the roof of the apartment complex they lived in, unable to work and feeling suffocated knowing that he slept in the same house; he could say that his view of love had changed, and that he despised it like nothing else, since it was threatening to ruin one of his most important relationships and to put his group in danger.

He would’ve liked to pretend that his feelings weren’t there, but it was too hard; he hated how sometimes he would look at him and all the air in his lungs would just disappear, as if it had never been there, or how sometimes he would have to hide the blush creeping on his face. He was afraid that at some point he would break and lose everything he had for a flame that was eventually going to die by itself, exactly how it was supposed to.

But, after all, he knew his stupid unrequited crush wasn’t the only thing that brought him to escape from the safety of his bed and run on a distant and lonely place where he could breathe without having eyes constantly planted on him. He didn’t want to admit that sometimes being the leader was something he couldn’t bear and that his fame was suffocating him, because he’d worked so hard to achieve it. And, most importantly, he needed to be strong for s, because he knew that, had they seen him falter, they probably wouldn’t know what to do as well, and he didn’t want to hold them back in any way.

He needed to be their anchor, someone they could always rely on; he couldn’t allow himself to be weak, he couldn’t allow himself to doubt himself, he couldn’t allow himself to be scared.

Maybe, that was why he was glad that he’d stepped on the roof that night, thinking it would be like any other night, that he would find himself alone looking up at the sky, knowing that the stars were there, even though he couldn’t see them, feeling like there was a weight on his soul that was slowly crushing him. But he’d quickly noticed that something wasn’t right, and had spotted the dark shadow perched on the wall in front of the safety railing on the edge of the roof.

Somehow, the security lights had let him understand who it was, and that sight had sent his heart into what could only be described as pure panic; he’d found himself whispering his name before he could stop himself. The moment the other had turned around to look at him, adrenaline had spiked in his veins, and he’d jumped forward and dragged him down on the floor.

He had strange memories of that night, sometimes he thought it’d just been a lucid dream. He clearly remembered how scared he’d been, knowing what had just happened to Seungyoon’s group, knowing how burdensome it was to be a leader, fearing he might try to do something stupid. He’d been so scared he hadn’t had the courage to let him go immediately, and from that moment on, his memories where confused: he could distinctly see, almost still feel, the older crying desperately, almost to the point where he’d thought he would drown in his own tears, and he knew that he’d held him as he wept, because it had been what felt right.

Then, he knew that the other had started talking, with his encouragement, and had kept going for hours, and yet, that hadn’t bothered him one bit, he’d hung on his every word. He remembered how he’d told him what had happened with Taehyun, and how he felt about it.

He’d understood him completely, he knew that if he were to lose one of s, in a way or another, he would feel guilty and angry with himself, knowing that, if only he’d been a better leader, he could’ve avoided it; and, just as Seungyoon had been feeling then, he would find himself ashamed to face the brothers who had stayed.

Just thinking about the possibility made him sick, and he could fathom how it would be to actually have to endure it. That was the reason he’d stayed with him for all that time, feeling that he’d found someone who could understand him.

Not to get him wrong, he was aware how much s cherished and loved him and how willing to listen to him and help him they were, but, maybe, in the mid of his heartache for a love he wasn’t supposed to feel, and his not wanting to hurt them, he’d started to keep things for himself.

Perhaps, being a leader also meant that you couldn’t escape your mind and were bound to be lonely, because they were things you thought it was better to pretend weren’t there at all. And no one could understand it better than another leader, that fear of not being enough to protect your group, of making a mistake that would cause everything to crumble right in front of you, and how heavy their responsibilities were, almost too much to carry.

That night he’d tried to be strong for him, too, telling what he needed to hear in that moment, without mentioning how much he could relate to him; the only way he’d found to help him was keeping being a leader even when he’d felt like breaking down as well.

What he hadn’t considered was that it wasn’t going to end like that, because it was difficult to let go of something you finally found when you didn’t know you were looking for it.

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It became a habit rather quickly; surprisingly, even, knowing how busy both of them were. Of course, they didn’t meet every night, also because, at the beginning it started as a coincidence; they would find each other on the roof and they would start asking each other how they were doing and they usually talked for some time, before forcing themselves to go back to their apartment and try to sleep.

Usually, it was rather awkward, Seungyoon still seemed embarrassed about what had happened the first night, but was evidently doing better, and Hanbin always felt somehow proud of him for starting to get over what had been blocking him and felt like he’d actually helped him with his words.

They didn’t actually feel like they could talk to each other freely, even though he yearned to do that, to at least relieve the pain he sometimes felt due to his responsibilities, if he couldn’t reveal the feelings he had for that one member of his group and talk about that.

What changed everything for good was when he finally broke down as well, unable to stand all his thoughts, which were slowly suffocating him, destroying him bit by bit. Everything had been too much for him that day, along the lines of having to hear his best friend talk about some girl with the others, talking about if he should consider dating her even though they weren’t allowed to and feeling extremely frustrated because he couldn’t write a decent song which satisfied him and was afraid of letting everyone down, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to protect his group and that president Yang would have something to say against them and disband them and send them back to being trainees because he couldn’t work properly.

And he started being so scared he could feel himself shake intensely, feelings building up inside his chest so fast he thought he could throw up, and just wanted to hide from the world, curl into himself and cry silently.

He was pathetic, after all; lovesick and tired of having the eyes of the world on him waiting for him to make a mistake and throw him back into the nothingness he’d come from. He needed to protect his bandmates, because without them he was nobody, if he couldn’t do it he was worthless.

He wanted to talk to someone but it couldn’t be them, because he didn’t want to bother them, he didn’t want them to be scared for him, didn’t want them to worry for their future, if their incompetent leader couldn’t stand still against the smallest wave, he couldn’t fight another storm.

That was how he found himself running on the roof, with tears he was trying to ignore blinding him as he stumbled up the stairs, half-hoping to be alone, half-hoping that the older would be there, because he needed someone to stay with him, just anyone, anyone who could understand his loneliness and his despair.

Without thinking, shoving everything in his mind away, he stepped outside and was hit by the cold wind, frantically looking left and right, his legs unable to keep him upright.

He didn’t have time to realise what was going on as he collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily, his head spinning uncontrollably; he hated that feeling, he hated that there was still too much into his head, and he hated that he couldn’t be the strong person everyone expected him to be.

Or maybe, he’d been strong for too long and had been bound to fall apart at some point, because, for how much he tried to forget about it, he was just twenty-one and had been there since he was sixteen, he had never known another life, and he was tired to pretend that he was perfectly okay all the time.

He felt caged, but it was the world he’d chosen himself and for that reason he didn’t have any right to complain, because he could’ve walked away any moment, but he’d never done it, he’d brought everything onto himself. After all, he needed to be okay, it couldn’t be different; even when he wasn’t, he had to pretend that he was, because it was better for everyone, and, sometimes, he somehow managed to deceive himself and actually believe that everything was going to be fine.

He sat up, pulling his legs to his chest and covering his ears with his hands, trying to shut out all the sounds that damn city wouldn’t stop spitting from every direction, even on the height of that building, cursing himself for being so weak and for keeping shuddering that way, like he couldn’t control himself anymore, like he’d gone crazy and there was no way he would ever go back to normal.

He was alone, completely alone, he wasn’t anyone, he was invisible. He’d thought that, once he managed to snatch that star, everything would be fine, but he was completely wrong. It was exactly the opposite, he’d realised that nothing would be better, it was exactly how it’d always been, with people watching him and judging him harshly, ready to throw him away as if he hadn’t given all of himself to achieve his dream.

The only difference, now, was that there were people who loved him specifically for his work and were willing to protect him, but they were too far away, and he was scared they were going to leave him alone if he disappointed them, if he couldn’t keep up with their expectations.

The night had seemed extremely loud before, but he’d gone completely numb a few minutes before, and couldn’t hear nor feel anything at all, anymore; that was why he noticed that he wasn’t alone only when he sensed something touch his shoulder and almost freaked out, because it’d been too unexpected for his fragile state of mind.

He leaped away from where he’d been sitting and put his arms before his face, his eyes foggy and his breath uneven; he had no idea what he was doing or what he was trying to protect himself from, but he couldn’t calm down, he was completely berserk.

Then, without notice, a voice reached him in his desperation, and he understood someone was calling for him, and, by the tone of the voice, had probably been for a while, and had evidently started to worry for him.

“—nbin. Hanbin-ah—Kim Hanbin, listen to me,” he was talking to him as if he was a wounded animal he was trying to rescue, but he didn’t pay attention to that fact, in that moment, and only focused on the voice, trying to follow its sound; he quickly realised that he found it soothing, like it was alleviating the pain of his wounds.

“Breathe. In and out, calmly,” he paid attention to what he was being told and closed his eyes, since he couldn’t see anything, concentrating on balancing his respiration first; when he once again felt what he recognised as a hand fall onto one of his knees, he didn’t wince, but let it make him remember that he wasn’t alone, that someone was there with him and was trying to help him.

“It’s okay, take your time,” when he was sure that unjustifiable panic attack was over and that he wasn’t suffocating anymore, he slowly opened his eyes, afraid that the lights were going to be too strong and were going to blind him once again, and that wasn’t exactly what he needed in that moment.

He found himself face to face with a rather alarmed Seungyoon, who still had his hands resting on his knees, absentmindedly rubbing tiny circles on the fabric of his pants, his eyes filled with a warm concern, which let him see that he genuinely cared and that he was repaying him by helping him in his most vulnerable moment. He should’ve felt ashamed to have allowed someone to see him that way, but he wasn’t, because he knew the older wasn’t going to judge him, because he knew he was only human, after all.

And, just like that, he broke down, right when he thought everything was over and he was going to be truly fine. He’d never felt such an overwhelming need to cry before, one where he knew he was going to be sick if he didn’t. He couldn’t keep everything inside anymore.

His whole body started to shake with his gut wrenching sobs he wasn’t trying to hold back, because he knew he couldn’t. His eyes were stinging and his face was progressively getting redder and damp; his heart was aching so much it almost physically hurt.

He didn’t know why he was crying anymore. He didn’t know if it was because he hated that something as stupid and unnecessary as love was consuming him and he couldn’t stand it anymore, or because he knew he wasn’t good enough and would never be, for how much he tried to convince himself that he was, because he didn’t want to falter but kept doing it and had to hide from his bandmates because he didn’t want to disappoint them.

He only knew that tears wouldn’t stop flowing from his eyes onto his cheeks and that he felt tremendously in pain, like his chest was being ripped open and he couldn’t do anything to protect himself.

He’d almost completely lost contact with his surroundings, but he knew Seungyoon had reached for him just a few seconds after he’d started weeping and had pulled him into his arms, his back, trying to make him feel the warmth he was missing, and Hanbin had let him do it, because he desperately needed someone, someone who could understand how selfishly alone he felt sometimes; he didn’t know for how much time they remained in that position, until he didn’t have tears anymore, until he felt half-empty, half-relieved.

Expectedly, the older asked him what was going on, once he was sure he was fine and could talk properly again, and, for how much he wished he could keep quiet and not say anything, he spilled everything to him, telling him how scared he was he was going to take a step wrong and drag his group into nothingness with him; that he was afraid he was going break down in the worst moment, in the worst way, destroying all he had so painfully gained during the years, and that the others were going to be severely affected because of his mistake.

He told him everything he egoistically felt and could never reveal to his brothers, because the last thing he wanted was hurt them or making them feel worried for him.

Somehow, it helped him get part of that terrible weight off his shoulders, and made him realise that he’d been right all along, that he needed someone who could understand him because they could relate to him, because they were in the same situation. He realised how much he needed to get things off his chest sometimes, and knew that they’d seen each other when they’d been most fragile and had helped each other keep all their pieces together, and he didn’t see what would be wrong in continuing like that, selfishly running away from their group, even though they loved them like no one else, because some things were better unsaid, or kept in the secrecy of a cold roof, where only the soft wind of the night and the lights of the city could hear.

Maybe human beings constantly yearned for someone who could understand them perfectly without judging them, without risking to disappoint them.

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After that night, they started texting each other and would mostly ask each other if they could meet on the roof and talk, sometimes just for less than half an hour; Hanbin still somehow felt ashamed of it all, and always made sure s weren’t watching him when he was writing those messages, because he didn’t want them to ask about it, or to get the wrong idea out of it. And maybe because he liked to keep the secrecy of it, and he would’ve felt like something had been ruined if someone found out.

He wanted to tell him everything that was weighing on his soul without worrying about being heard by someone who wasn’t supposed to listen. They’d decided to be blatantly honest with each other since the night he’d broken down, because it was better that way, to completely get everything that was bothering them away from their system, before they got to the point where they couldn’t keep everything in anymore and exploded.

Perhaps it was extremely dangerous to talk about everything, almost pretending to be talking to themselves instead of another person, when there were things that should’ve never left their minds, but they didn’t care that much, anymore. They were trying to help each other not break down, to keep themselves together; they talked about the things they couldn’t tell anyone else, because they wanted the world to see them in a way that wasn’t entirely how they actually were. They didn’t want them to see that they were scared, that they were constantly afraid of stumbling and bringing their groupmates down with them.

It was relieving, to have someone to talk to in their worst moments, when all hope seemed gone and light was starting to disappear from their mind; it was like finally breathing after almost drowning.

Hanbin had realised that he’d often pretended that he was okay, that everything was fine and that he could keep going like his mind wasn’t stuttering and blocking him. He was scared, he was terrified. And he was glad he’d found someone who wouldn’t judge him for it, that actually felt the same way; the only way they had to protect their members was by showing them that they were strong, that, even when they were in the gutter, they weren’t scared and weren’t going to give up.

Perhaps it was selfish, they should’ve talked to them, they should’ve trusted them; not like they didn’t, per se. They did trust them, but, sometimes, they needed to talk to someone they knew wasn’t going to be disappointed in them if they weren’t as strong as they would’ve liked to be.

Seungyoon wasn’t someone he’d ever expected to find, someone he’d ever expected he would confide in, but he was starting to become someone he couldn’t live without. He gave him so many things he hadn’t realised he’d been missing: warmth, understanding, forgiveness; he’d never been able to forgive himself for his mistake, but things had started to change.

Because it was oddly healing to have someone tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that it was okay not to be okay, but that he was eventually going to be fine. Someone who would simply hold him in his arms because he knew that sometimes he felt like he was lacking physical comfort. Someone who understood why he tended to run away from s, from how much he loved them. Someone who would hold his hand and give his entire attention to him, hanging on his every word, always trying to find a way to help him.

Every time he climbed on the roof, and saw him there, he knew that he wasn’t alone in his misery, and it was—everything. After all what they’d gone through, it almost seemed right to stay there together and be there for each other; they were somehow connected to each other and had always been, far away but closer than they thought.

Maybe it was fate that had brought them closer; it’d just been waiting for the right moment. If he hadn’t escaped on the roof that first night, he would’ve never found him, and he would’ve kept fading away into the night by himself, unable to keep himself together; but he wasn’t, because there was someone trying to keep him there, whispering words he’d never thought he would need into his ears and holding him as he wept, letting him feel exactly like he felt, without expecting anything from him.

The top of that building wasn’t a lonely prison, anymore, it was the only place where he could find freedom. He’d been used to be alone, but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t hated every minute of his desperation.

It was simple; they listened to each other, they comforted each other without judgment, they just knew that both of their hearts were at risk of breaking, crushed under the weight of their responsibilities and their fears. There wasn’t anything more, or anything less. They met in the darkness of the night, and left everything that had been said between them on that roof, scattering it to the wind.

And Hanbin thought it would never change; he thought it would always be like that, for as long as they could. Just them, and everything that was hurting them. He didn’t have any idea of how much things would change.

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A/N: Bonus points if you figure out which one of his best friends he's in love with! No, I'm not telling you. But, hint, it's not Jiwon.