On the other side of the city a neat, sad looking girl was editing an email she had been writing for the better part of three days.  Pushing back from her desk, she sighed, massaging her forehead with slim, typist’s fingers.  She was a journalist.  And YoungBae’s second cousin.  It was a distant enough relation for her to have no close contact with him and near enough to feel the slightly surprised jolt of sadness when she heard of his death.  YoungBae had been a fun cousin.  His lively, quiet sense of humour and modest thoughtfulness had endeared him to all his family, near and distant.  Kim DaHye had been no different.  At the wedding of YoungBae’s cousin, YoungBae had joked so persistently and humorously – using himself as the fun point - that DaHye’s slight sneer for the “famous” guest was quickly replaced with a grin of appreciation.  And later that night the grin had been replaced with a genuine smile of gratefulness when YoungBae slipped her away from a drunk group of friends, handed her a tall glass of cool mint-water and led her away to join a much quieter group of old family friends she hadn’t met in years.  The hours had flown on the wings of hilarious family stories and Da Hye forgot the gentle singer who was sitting in a corner listening to everything and smiling drowsily.

Standing, Da Hye walked over to her window.  It had been a week since the text had first come through telling her of YoungBae’s death.  Da Hye was far enough removed from him to feel only the detached sadness one automatically feels when a relative dies, but had enough good memories of her second cousin to feel a rather annoying ache persist throughout each and every day.  It had been persisting ever since she had first reached into her bag that morning a week ago to stare in shock at the message telling her YoungBae had fallen from the roof of YG building.  What an earth was the stupid idiot doing that close to the edge anyway?   Her empathy for the remaining BigBang members had been painfully profound, especially when she had seen that stark, emotionally tearing press conference they had been forced through.  Daesung’s shattered calm had been especially hard to watch and it was seeing his heart break that prompted DaHye first to write the email.  To DaHye, Daesung had always been the closest to YoungBae in nature and she respected and loved the gentle dongsaeng of BigBang.  Daesung had been the one to first introduce himself with shy friendliness the first time she had met Bigbang and it had always fascinated her how that shy friendliness had never trespassed beyond perfect gentlemanliness.  YoungBae talked a lot about Daesung.  Once again DaHye looked at her email.  The press conference had been hard enough to watch but then she had been sent to the funeral by her boss.  She would be able to slip in with her family tag and was supposed to write an inside story of the funeral.  She had gone to support Daesung and with no intention of writing an inside story.  She had been appalled at how changed BigBang seemed.  They were pale with dark shadows under their eyes; whole beings seemed listless, beaten, defeated.  When Daesung stood to sing, DaHye had felt a wave of relief wash over her.  Daesung’s spirit had not been broken; his faith – if indeed he did have a faith – had been strong enough to uphold him.  Then she watched him slowly crumple into tears beside YoungBae’s coffin, saw the other members rise to their feet and move forward to fall onto their knees beside Daesung and she had seen Seunghyun break down for the first time. For the first time since hearing of her cousin’s death, DaHye had cried.  When she had at first heard of YoungBae’s death, she prayed perfunctorily for the members of BigBang.  Seeing their fragile, unprotected pain at the funeral however, DaHye’s prayers become suddenly far more fervent.  Her prayers for Seunghyun especially seemed to slip from her heart more often than the others.  His anguish had torn into her very being and DaHye still felt the choking hurt his pain caused her.  Slipping back into her seat, DaHye began to type again, lifting silent prayer once again to the only One who could rescue Seunghyun from the torture she had seen mirrored in his eyes when he lifted them briefly to hers at the funeral.

DaHye had debated about going to the cemetery.  She really had no reason to go other than the strange reluctance she felt to leave the cousin who had so suddenly become important to her.  All her memories of YoungBae had seemed to leap into her mind, filling her with nostalgic yearning; so DaHye had given in rather grumpily and tagged along to the cemetery.  It had been harder than she thought.  In the church she had seen YoungBae’s sister lift her hand to flick tears away and DaHye had felt her heart ache in sympathy.  At the cemetery DaHye then watched YoungBae’s sister lose all control as her brother was lowered into the ground.  When it was over and the family was leaving, DaHye had waited, torn between wanting to offer sympathy and feeling she had no reason to stay. It had been almost harder to watch another person’s grief than feel her own grief.  As she had stood there in the sun watching YoungBae’s family and BigBang members huddle around the hole in the ground, DaHye had remembered again watching her own father and little sister lowered into the ground.  Seeing, once again the polished brown coffin and tiny white one beside it, Dahye’s heart constricted in painful empathy for YoungBae’s sister who was trying to hold back more tears as she walked reluctantly away from her brother’s new grave.  For a moment longer DaHye had stood there and in that moment YoungBae’s sister had seen her.  To DaHye’s surprise YoungBae’s sister had instantly made a beeline for her and wrapping her arms around the slightly shorter girl, started crying afresh.  As DaHye felt YoungBae’s sister press her face into her shoulder and felt her body shaking with sobs, she had realised something.  People are most vulnerable when they are crying.  In tears of grief a person is stripped of all pride and defence, their soul bare for all to see and their innermost weakness - love is laid to the harsh gaze of others.

Thinking of vulnerability made her think of Seunghyun and slowly her mind began to flood with memories of the tall silent man with such pure, utter loss in every line of his body.  DaHye had wanted to just go and comfort him no matter if she had only seen him a few times in her life before.  Now, standing at her office window she remembered how he had almost crashed into her coming around a corner at that party and his absolute horror at the crimson stain spreading so rapidly over her dress.  Her assurances that it really was perfectly fine had done nothing to ease his concern until she had finally told him the dress would be covered in her work expenses and she hadn’t wanted the wine anyway. 

Slowly his face had relaxed then dimples had pressed into the lines around his mouth.  Holding his hand out with a strange air of courtly politeness, he had introduced himself as Choi Seunghyun, YoungBae’s friend, and asked if she’d like to go onto the balcony with him.  She had agreed then couldn’t help teasing him slightly.  “Maybe my dress will dry faster out there.”  She had grinned up at him, watching embarrassment and humour mingle on his face.

As they were walking he had stopped suddenly and bent to pick up a rose fallen on the carpet.  “It will match the red on your dress.”  He had explained rather apologetically as he handed her the rose.

Thinking back to the little boy shyness in his stance as he had offered that single flower, DaHye’ face still went hot.  He had been so innocent and through the years he hadn’t changed.  Would this heart-breaking accident shatter that innocence; that simple trust in life?  DaHye went back to her email with sudden new determination and her fingers flew in the strength of fear.  To see Seunghyun’s native sweetness burn into cynicism would be DaHye’s worst nightmare and she prayed that God would never allow it to happen.

Thoughtfully Seunghyun chewed his lip while he eyed the phone in his hand.  He vaguely remembered YoungBae’s cousin and each year he texted her to say Happy Chueseok.  At the funeral he had caught her eye briefly and been momentarily caught by the look of intensely empathetic pain on her features.  It was as if she knew the pain he was feeling, as if she too had felt the dagger of grief drive into her heart and twist cruelly.  Slowly he typed back, “Gamsahabnida.  By alive do you mean physically breathing?  Because yes we are. I guess.  Hey and sorry you lost your cousin.”

Reading it a few minutes later Da Hye sighed.  No, she hadn’t meant physically breathing and Seunghyun knew she hadn’t.  Tilting her head back Da hye remembered when she too had shut out emotion as a defence mechanism against the intense pain of losing her father and little sister at once.  For a time it had worked.  She hadn’t felt, hadn’t thought, hadn’t loved.  But her cold hardness had only broken her and it wasn’t until God had found her and brought her to himself that Da Hye was able to cope with life as well as with death.  A small smile of marvelling gratitude flitted across her face.  It still amazed her why God had picked her out of so many other suffering people in the world.  But she was so inadequately thankful he had picked her.  Once again she prayed that she might be able to share her God with BigBang. 

Greetings :)  I am soooo sorry it's taken me this long to update, my life is so hectic it's not even funny.  anyway.... this is really bad but it's almost finished and then you'll be rid of me :D  sounds good right :D