Daesung choked slightly as the second shot of vodka burned his throat. He gently put the shot glass down on the small, hardwood table of his room, and reached for the half empty bottle that sat next to it. He swirled the clear liquid, feeling the alcohol run through his veins. After a moment, he tipped the bottle, filling the shot glass for the third time that night. Daesung tried his best to drown his thoughts and memories in liquor; thoughts that tempted him to drink too much, and memories of a very specific moment when he was painfully sober.

        But the vodka, the liquid that mixed with his blood, only made everything worse. Daesung could hear the sirens of the police car. He could feel the jerk of his car as it ran over a bump. He could see the trunk of the taxi become bigger as he came closer. Every minuscule detail failed to escape him as he remembered his car crashing, and the events that followed. Everything ached, and Daesung’s eyesight began to blur as the scene played over and over. Everything had been ruined in that moment, the past leaving Daesung a broken heap on his old bedroom floor in his parent’s house.

        The crash had occurred four months ago, and Daesung had learned that the small bump he had run over had been a passed out motorcyclist, and in doing so, he had killed him. He remembered in flashes what had occurred after; the reporters following his every step, the hard gazes of the police officers as that investigated him, the faces of the dead man’s family. Every memory burned like the vodka that had ran down his throat, choking and leaving him gasping for air. But it wasn’t just the people involved who left him breathless. All of South Korea had been watching him, his face plastered on the front page of every newspaper in Seoul, and all of them had something to say.

        Ugly, talentless, obnoxious. Daesung had gotten used to those words being associated with himself after debuting with Big Bang, but now only one word rang in his head. Murderer. Murderer had engraved itself into Daesung’s mind, and letters arrived daily with death threats and suicide petitions scrawled in ink. And every word, every letter, Daesung knew he deserved. He was a murderer, a killer, a person who shouldn’t be able to live any longer. They knew. They knew he knew. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. A life for a life. Daesung was no exception to this rule. It all made sense to him now, in the haze of alcohol and misery.

        Besides, Big Bang would be better without him. For a couple months maybe, they would be sad, but life wold continue for them. Seungri would cry. Though he tried to show a tougher image, he still possessed a vulnerability that stemmed from being the youngest of the five. Taeyang would pray. He would pray Daesung would be in a better, happier place. T.O.P. would remember. Because T.O.P. would find out how fleeting every moment with another really was. And Jiyong would pick up the pieces. Jiyong would fix Big Bang because it was a leader’s duty. Yes, Daesung thought, Big Bang would cry, they would pray, they would remember, and then, they would move on. Easily and naturally, they would forget him as they got caught in the chaos of living, and he would fade to a memory, if anything at all.

        There was nothing left for him now. He was a waste, only a burden to those who surrounded him. So for the fourth time, Daesung reached for the bottle. Smashing it against the table, he watched as it shattered under the pressure. Glass littered the table and the floor, and the clear liquid stained his clothes. Picking up one of the sharp shards from the table, Daesung held it to his throat. His hands were shaking, and hot tears began to form in his eyes. He was scared. He was scared because he didn't want to die, but he knew he deserved his fate. He deserved to die painfully, alone. Everyone would be happier with him gone, and pens and paper would be saved as the people that sent the letters got their wishes granted.

        He sunk the glass deep into his skin, and the tears began to overflow. Regret overwhelmed him and Daesung wished things could have been different for him. He thought about his life before the crash. The sweat on the training room floor, the cheers of the crowd, the hot presence of the blinding spot light. Times had changed so quickly. Daesung could only feel sorry; sorry he had made a mistake, sorry his blood was staining his parents’ floor, sorry he had not been good enough. Blood ran down his neck and black fog played at the edges of his vision. He didn’t have much time left, and he could vaguely feel the bloodied glass fall away from his fingers as his eyes slid to a gentle close.

    Darkness enveloped him, but only for a couple moments. A bright, blinding light filled his mind, and Daesung’s pain faded away. Peace washed over him in gentle waves. soft warmth surrounded him, covering him like wings. For the first time in months, Daesung felt comforted and protected. Relief rushed through him, replacing the anguish and guilt that had been eating at him. Something broke deep inside of Daesung as he reached for salvation, and now he began to cry for a different reason. He had been forgiven. He could finally let go of the hatred and remorse that had plagued him. The bright light pierced through him, mending the small cracks in his soul; and every wound, every scar, disappeared as his tears fell.

        “Daesung! Please wake up! Oh god, I’m begging you. Don’t die. Please, don’t die.”

    A voice suddenly shattered Daesung’s peace, and the bright light faded. A new scene appeared before him, and Daesung now saw himself lying in a hospital bed unconscious. The room was silent except for Seungri noisily sobbing over him, desperation thick in his usual carefree tone. Top was sitting in a chair in the corner, head resting in his hands. Jiyong was quietly whispering to Taeyang, a grief stricken expression on his face. A dim feeling of sadness ran through Daesung, and he wished he could somehow comfort the members. But there was no going back, and Daesung could no longer reach them. Instead, he could only watch as Seungri ran out of tears.

        He wished he could say one last thing to them. He wished he could tell them he was in a better place, that he was happy again. He wanted them to know that he had done this for them, so they could be happy and successful without him dragging them down. But mostly, he wanted them to know that he would always be watching over them. Despite the insurmountable distance separating them, Daesung would always be there, protecting them, believing in them. As they cried, prayed, remembered, and moved on, he would always be with them.

        He would become their wings.