Watching had become his specialty. 

 

He watched everything from behind an impassive mask, some people called him cold, some even mean, but they had never understood. He just watched. Better to keep everything in some neat, easy order, as the rest of the world spiraled into chaos. Having his life changed from almost unknown to super star pop idol still had his head spinning, and he liked to watch, to make sure that what was in front of him was real. 

 

He watched the others in the group bounce around, to others looking like happy campers in the blazing Seoul sun.

 

...

 

He knew that really Jongup was scared that his performances where never good enough.

 

He knew that Himchan really, really hated his looks.

 

He knew that Zelo desperately wanted to be like Jongup.

 

He knew Daehyun worked out obsessively to achieve what the other's didn't have.

 

He knew YoungJae felt like the lowest member of them all.

 

...

 

He knew all of this from watching. He knew all of this, yet they made him their leader trusted him into keeping their very fears locked up inside him. He'd always been like that, it kept him from talking until he was five, the watching, others couldn't stand the way he did it. He'd known all of their secrets and though he never spilled anything, people where always wary around him, worried he'd say the blackest pits of their soul. It made for a very lonely life, hidden in the background while up front and center. 

 

He hadn't minded being tired, as he'd rubbed the skin under his eyes, the dark red strands falling into them with the next breeze. He'd then held his hands up on his hands, watching out of the TV monitors the the set, head tilting back and forth. The chair had been comfortable in his stage outfit, a single one piece jumpsuit with a captain's symbol on the chest plate. It was one of three different outfits they had to wear in the very first verse. So in the heat of that day YongGuk's body temperature was through the roof. So he'd decided to sit down again, a half empty water bottle dripped onto the wooden table he leaned against. He'd had been waiting for one certain person to cross the path and when she did...he'd felt his heart skip that mythical beat. 

 

Normally able to focus on a lot of things at once YougGuk's attention span had fallen away, only centered on one being in the world. He'd watched as you delicately lifted a piece of set, only to settle it down a few inches away. The slow wind then had ruffled your hair a bit, and his gaze sharpened, zeroing in on the strands floating in it. You seemed to feel it, turning your head slightly to meet the steady stare, smiling a bit. He couldn't have helped the corners of his mouth from tilting up, being friends with you this long had earned some benefits. You didn't shy away from his stare, instead went along your business like it was nothing, thinking he'd lose interest moments later. 

 

And he always did.

 

...Pretend to.

 

Sure, he'd look at other things, like he was focusing on them intently, surprised this was something he could full even you with, someone who knew him so deeply. Guess it was so ingrained into his life it was the padlock over his heart. His last defense before you shattered through the walls completely. 

 

For he was in a bind.

 

He shouldn't love you.

 

But he wanted to.

 

He had for years, almost as many as he had known you to be his set designer, you striking up a shy conversation with him as the skies poured rain onto your perfectly sculpted ideas. The quiet level of your voice intrigued him and he found his attention being pulled to you more and more. In the business he had seen his share of attractive girls, and he wasn't going to fool anyone by saying you where the most gorgeous he had ever seen. But he wasn't enough of an evil person to ever say that out loud. You faded into the background and he was sure without his keen watching ideals you would have been lost to the back of his mind. 

 

But somehow you stuck to him like glue, digging your way deeper inside him; he found himself talking to you more than the normal gestures, more than his normal friendships. Once people got to know him and learned that he wasn't as scary as his outside shell looked, he was a sweet guy, but you made him feel like he needed to go out of his way. And he was clumsy with it, often fumbling over his words and wishing he could retract some. 

 

He just couldn't turn away.

 

In practices he would be thinking about you, working to the point of exhaustion to make the video absolutely perfect to show off his skills for you. He felt like a child, he shouldn't, but he couldn't move. He didn't realize you were so in his life until he was circling the days he got to spend with you, underlining the date of your birth like he did with his family, group mates, and friends. 

 

He'd sighed to himself, it was time to pretend to focus on another thing, so he'd chosen to watch the rest of B.A.P practicing, his mood lifting as he watched the silly boys break dancing wildly to the amusement of everyone. They were a lovable bunch and four years together had them wrapped so tightly they were closer than blood. YoungGuk couldn't imagine being anywhere else, the bond between them so great. They had gotten under his skin and wiggled their way into his heart. 

 

You had gotten to them too as Zelo gently wrapped his arms around you, pointing over the lopsided space part that he had mistakenly kicked over. At your glare he looked like a small boy once again, and just like YoungGuk then, and still did, you melted. Reaching far up you'd ruffled his hair, going off to fix the broken piece.

 

You were his set director, and always knew when he was was just playing like a kindergartner at being fine. But you never knew exactly what the feelings where to stop the sadness from enveloping him. 

 

The depression was settling in harder like a rock in his soul every day. For the day was looming closer.

 

The day of your wedding. 

 

And he was supposed to be your best man.

 

He'd felt dirty at just the thought, and hung his head down behind the monitors. He was deceiving you, playing a part he was getting so good at. The wind swept up, blowing the artificial sand of the video shoot around him, and the bright lights flickered darkly in response. You had met him a year ago, and he had swept you off your feet. He was everything YongGuk wasn't: he was easy to get along with, smart charismatic, sweet with gifts and attention. He didn't have to travel all the time, there wasn't a legion of girls following him everywhere to make you worry. YongGuk could barely focus words around you, could barely string his thoughts around you. When you had asked him to be your best man he had just stared at you, until you had explained that all your family couldn't make it to Korea for the big event, your mother was coming, but your friends had to stay behind. The crushed look on your face had YongGuk agreeing in a heartbeat, the yes tasting sour in his mouth. 

 

Even though you where happy, YongGuk had another secret tucked so deeply inside him he could barely stand to look at himself in the mirror. He'd pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to stop the wetness. He was in front of people, you made him lose control completely. He was surprised he could function anymore.

 

He believed your soon-to-be husband was cheating on you. 

 

But he had no proof and he was starting to think that maybe he was so evil that he wanted to ruin what happiness you had so he could watch you without thinking he was coveting. All he had were hushed phone calls, secret meetings that he could never follow, his schedule was much too busy, and he couldn't have someone tail him; after all, how would that look? 

 

Was he really so wrapped up he thought no one could love you like he did? 

 

A gentle hand through his hair startled him, but he didn't show it, save for a slight tenseness. He knew who it was, the only person who would approach, and he was confirmed by your sweet voice saying his name. He couldn't help the shiver that ran down his spine at your hands on his scalp. Just the way he liked it. He knew his red, long hair was slipping through your fingers, and the black side edges would crinkle against the pads of your fingertips.

He had sat up and wiped his eyes, trying to adopt a bored look on his face and you'd looked at him levelly. "Are you all right?" He nodded, feeling anything but. 

 

He'd pulled himself out of the chair, "I'm just tired and hot." You nodded, skeptical of his answer but not feeling like you should question him further. He stretched, relaxed, as much as his stiff body would allow, and looked down to you, noting how the tops of your cheeks where sunburned. He couldn't help but smile at it, and gently poked them, earning an agitated "Hey!" from you.

 

YongGuk nodded, satisfied, and turned from you, just as the director clapped his hands, speaking in YongGuk's native tongue that they were done for the day. It had been a long day, as he had been up since five AM trying to portray the feeling the directors need to play up in their ideas for the newest song. It was a sad love song about the 'Aliens' having to leave their loves behind, and it was all he could do not to get too deep into what they wanted. The others where clapping excitedly, but YongGuk's face was still impassive. He really was tired. 

 

Tired of staying up and thinking about you, tired of trying to keep everything inside. 

 

Movement to his left then caught his attention, a dark haired figure excitedly waving, looking content even in this heat.

 

Your loverboy. 

 

His eyes narrowed and he couldn't help the instant hate that welled up inside him, but he squashed it down at feeling your hand on his arm. "Do you need anything else today?" After a moment of searching the ground for something he'd never find, he shook his head, "No, your fiancé is here anyway." You looked past him, a small smile forming on your face, "Oh! He said he'd be here later." YongGuk couldn't stand the happiness evident in your voice, nodded in his direction, trying to get the greeting scene out of his mind. You'd looked up at him, a question in your eyes. "Yes, I'll be fine," he whispered, trying to reassure you of something else he didn't feel. 

 

He knew the way to the hotel was short, but in this heat it was going to be more than hell, so he turned to grab his bottle of water, he hated taking a car for such short trips. 

 

He wanted to leave right then and he'd tried his best to let you go past him, but the look on your face made him grab your arm, and when you had turned to look at him, his mouth opened then closed again. "Is...is he good to you?" Your confused look made him regret the words coming out of his mouth, and he'd waved it off. "N-never mind." He had his heels, marching away to the safety of his hotel, unwilling to watch you walk away from him one more time. 

 

Only a block away it was still crawling with fans.

 

The heat had him more irritated than usual, his body guards flanking his sides he tried to plow his way through the masses of people screaming and asking for his shirt. The tank top was beginning to get wet, clinging to his skin and he heard a couple of people screaming about his collarbones. He'd rolled his eyes, not in the mood like he normally was to sign things and pictures. He'd wished he was, he loved his fans, but he couldn't, not today. Maybe tomorrow, he thought viciously as his muscles practically threw him in the lobby, trying to bar the door from the rabid fans. 

 

The hotel staff had taken over, surrounding him, making him feel like he was being suffocated, but he'd swallowed the feeling, willing himself to just reach

the room. They guided him up the elevator and into the hallway, being blissfully silent. The smallest boy stood in front of him and bowed deeply, muttering something about if there was anything he could do, when YongGuk cut him off, shaking his head. He just wanted to be in the calm quiet of his little mind. He regretted how he was acting and sure he was scaring people with the murderous look on his face. He vowed to apologize to them to and then opened his door. 

 

Slamming it shut behind him, he slide down the ground, hiding his head in his hands, he couldn't even act normally. It was blessedly cool, dark and quiet.

 

Just as he'd left it, the air conditioning cranked up on high, the windows closed, and the bed still messy as hell. He didn't have to share the room with anyone this time, he didn't normally mind, but he was happy for the time to himself. It was a pretty room in the light, but he didn't pay attention to it, more worried about getting out of it on time in the mornings. He couldn't get his brain to think straight and hadn't sleep right in what seemed like a year. It was only a week before the rehearsal dinner and now he could barely look at you in the face. Would he be like this forever? He couldn't let him win over his friendship, he couldn't let him win. YongGuk had to get it together... 

 

His phone jingled in his pocket, and he reached to get it, his other hand plastered to his forehead and glancing down at the caller ID. Your name was present in block letters on the screen and he couldn't help the corner of his lips uplifting, and flipped it open to glance at the message you had left him-

 

“Yuggie, are you really all right? I'm worried about you.”

 

He'd bitten his lip, tired of lying, but he couldn't make you sad. He liked to live his life not making anyone sad, much less you. So he'd typed his obligatory message, running his hand through his hair, the red strands falling in his eyes; he didn't bother to brush them away. 

 

“Yes, I'm fine, thank you. Just tired.”

 

And he laid his head back on the door, sliding his eyes closed.