His hands trembled as he put on the headphones. The noise canceling system blocked his eardrums from outer sounds. An oversized jacket combined with warmth from the heater, pressing the air in the recording room. His clothes completely protected him from the world.

 

 

 

 

But in that concealed room...

 

 

silence made him more fragile than anything,

 

 

because of music sheets ahead

 

 

and that gaze.

 

 

 

 

 

“Hyung, could you sing that part one more time?”

 

 

That expectant gaze, beseeching him to express its feelings for her.

 

 

 

 

********************

 

 

 

 

“Hyung, this is a new one. Check it out.”

 

 

A solid white sheet of paper, scribbled with familiar handwriting, was placed on the table in front of him. The ink was still bold and steady as always, as every time that this man composed something from his raw feelings while it was fresh. Emotional sediment precipitated and condensed into Hangul, jittering vividly on the page, lined up as a trail of invisible thoughts.

 

 

Seunghyun was usually the first to taste it, whether because of trust put in him or Jiyong’s shyness. But this time, something was different.

 

 

“Blue...?” His sharp eyes glanced the title on the heading. This piece’s theme was quite apparent. His finger wandered on the pale surface. He caressed it, as though it was an innocent fawn which might die if he touched it too harshly.

 

 

Jiyong shrugged. It was just a name that popped up to match with his idea. That’s what he meant.

 

 

“Electro-dance?” He asked another question after he finished reading. Even the lyrics were so moody that it breathed out the sadness into the air, he avoided to conclude that it was like Love Song.

 

 

Seunghyun took out a Marlboro and passed one to Jiyong. The younger man shuddered, almost unseen, before he reached to take it blankly. Totally vague. The moment when the cigarette was placed in a thin palm, autumn air squeaked. Dryness droned silently, but it whirred in his heart.

 

 

“Electronic-ballad. The beginning and the end uses piano and acoustic guitar.” Those lips spelled each word while holding the white roll and lighting it. He gazed those movements unintentionally. Unable to take his eyes off that casual gesture. Unable to stop looking at the cracks on those pale lips.

 

 

 

 

Those fine eyes looked empty.

 

 

 

 

His chest hurt.

 

 

 

 

********************

 

 

 

 

“Hey, let’s get some rest. It’s already been 2 hours. I’m ing exhausted.”

 

 

Their big bro and producer spoke through the microphone before he left both of them in the recording room. He sighed, glancing at Jiyong at the sound mixer outside. The man’s face was even skinnier than past few months. Those eyes, watching lyrics sheets and monitors, were tired. A pencil spun on lean fingers. Endlessly.

 

 

Was that wearying?

 

 

Was that painful?

 

 

 

 

Curiosity flooded his mind.

 

 

 

 

His throat was sore. The air in the room was rough and dry as sand. But it was better than getting to the other side of the wall. In here, he had sound blocking pulp hiding him. The only connection was the headphone. Though his body was troubled, his mind was still safe.

 

 

At least, he didn’t have to face Jiyong alone.

 

 

 

 

Not at a time like this.

 

 

 

 

Not after singing that song several times.

 

 

 

 

“Hyung, could you raise the key a little bit higher? Start from ... I will not hurt. I will not feel lonely.”

 

 

Of course. It must be little bit higher. Their taste and thought were well tuned undoubtedly. Whatever Jiyong wanted, no matter wherever or however it is. He even nearly drew a note beforehand. But this time...

 

 

How could he sing it out?

 

 

 

 

********************

 

 

 

 

Bzzzzzz....

 

 

The bell ringing at midnight made him wonder. He paused the movie, took off his glasses and put them on the table where Blu-Ray of Tarsem Singh’s The Fall lay. He walked to the intercom in his grey night gown. In the LED monitor appeared his dongsaeng and leader. The man’s face drooped down.

 

 

He was surprised...

 

 

and glad.

 

 

 

 

There was no need of invitation nor permission. Both of them know that this apartment never shut Jiyong out. He walked behind him with heavy footsteps after removing his sneakers. Without turning back, his skin could feel the other’s anxiety.

 

 

“Wanna drink?”

 

 

Just another courtesy. He didn’t wait for the answer and went into the kitchen, taking a bottle of bourbon and two glasses.

 

 

“At this late hour, no party?” He asked while pacing back. The younger man just murmured indistinct words. He felt something different, but not so strange. When Jiyong visited without telling him, there must be something happening.

 

 

He took a glass he kept especially for Jiyong and poured. The one wrapped in blue cloth. The one he insisted with the housemaid to wash by himself. He cleaned and put it on the shelf every time. No matter how busy he was, he never missed this rigorous routine.

 

 

 

 

Seunghyun halted when he looked up from the glass and saw the other man dig his face into the cushions. Did Jiyong fall asleep? He didn’t seem sleepy when he walked in.

 

 

‘Ji.’ His voice was soft, afraid of interrupting.

 

 

‘Jiyong...’ There was no answer, just a groan to assure that the smaller man didn’t sleep yet.

 

 

“Still want your booze?” He stood still and watched, felt a little bit awkward of their position. Jiyong’s appearance always made him feel like this, whether it was the YG building or his private space. Jiyong was the center of gravity in his universe, as a leader and as a spotlight.

 

 

Seunghyun was satisfied the way it was. He preferred to stand in the shadow more than reveal himself to the public. He was pleased to watch his favorite dongsaeng shine a light.

 

 

So when Jiyong hid his face behind a wall, he helplessly felt misplaced, alienated and needless.

 

 

 

 

“I broke up with her.”

 

 

 

 

He was startled by the word. Her? Which her? The younger or the older? He couldn’t remember them all. Many faces changed repeatedly, like pages of a book fluttering. Unable to distinguish.

 

 

 

 

It was only him always standing there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Who? Yemin, Eunri, Haewon...?”

 

 

 

 

“.........”

 

 

 

 

That thin voice slipped from the cushions, so quiet, but still audible. The foreign name struck his mind. Not that he forgot about her, but he just chose to overlook it. How many years since she came around, 2 or 3? It’s not that he wasn’t familiar with her. They were quite close. Once, he even claimed that he was her closest friend among the members. He did that just to protect the happiness of his dongsaeng. It slipped out his afterward immediately. And now, who really is that girl?

 

 

 

 

“I lost her.”

 

 

 

 

“You have me, Ji.”

 

 

 

 

********************

 

 

 

 

 “I think we should take this one out. It doesn’t go along with the others. Both “Fantastic Baby” and “Bad Boy” are cheerful. Though the melody is great, it sounds too sad.” He was not surprised when Teddy was quite upset. After all the incidents in 2011, Jiyong still insisted on including that song in the album.

 

 

“But I think it’s kinda cool and helps balance the overall moods.” Yongbae spoke up. The man seemed to understand their leader’s intention. Jiyong still sat silently, drifted away. What was needed to say, it was expressed in the song. There was no need to argue -- that might be what he was thinking.

 

 

“What ya say, Seunghyun?” He looked up at the end of the table. Teddy looked hesitant. Usually, they would openly discuss every song in any album. But this was the first time that Jiyong stayed quiet and let the others decide. “Do you want this?”

 

 

 

 

His gaze wandered to the slim figure beside him. Those fine eyes fell on the papers ahead, but the focus flew away beyond the white pile, beyond this room. Beyond him.

 

 

 

 

His chest hurt.

 

 

 

 

********************

 

 

 

 

“How was that?” He asked blankly, not sure whether what he wanted -- did he ask for an answer, sympathy or just some attention?

 

 

 

“I think it’s okay.” Jiyong looked up from the lyrics sheets. Two handwritings scribbled along on the pages. It took him 3 nights, 5 bottles of wine and 2 packs of Marlboro to write the rap part. The lyrics were both satirical and intriguing. He had never focused on one of Jiyong’s songs like this before, not so much that he was unable to sleep, felt bitter and urged to rip those lyrics.

 

 

 

 

Not because it’s horrible.

 

 

 

 

But because it’s too sincere, too honest.

 

 

 

 

It’s too good.

 

 

 

 

“Do you wanna rap?”

 

 

Even he knew that was a ridiculous question. It stirred curiosity in those hazel eyes. Jiyong tilted his head as if trying to figure his words out. Seunghyun knew it was weird. The one who wrote it must rap. That was the answer.

 

 

 

 

But he didn’t want to sing this part.

 

 

 

 

He didn’t want to sing this song.

 

 

 

 

“You don’t want to?” Jiyong’s words were confused. Maybe he looked at the man too long, too straight, too pointedly. He couldn’t reject Jiyong.

 

 

He never rejected Jiyong.

 

 

This time...

 

 

 

 

********************

 

 

 

 

“Don’t think over it too much. You’ve never been like this.” He sat on the sofa. The smaller man was still not looking up. He felt uneasy. “Don’t act so immature. This is your hundredth time, if I’m not mistaken.” He tried to light up the mood, but nothing worked.

 

 

 

 

“I went out with her the longest...I...”

 

 

The silence at the end made him queasy. Bourbon’s poison rose up in his throat. The ‘I’ Jiyong said was the subject of the sentence. But what is the verb? Like? Miss? Love? Seunghyun never knew. He only recognized that ‘I’, melted in silence, was sharp as knife. It cut a part from his heart.

 

 

Jiyong laid still, turned his back to him, the back that he used to watch both clothed and . He loved and cared for this man. Those slim shoulders bore anticipation and pressure, especially the owner’s dream.

 

 

He wanted to put his hands on them.

 

 

 

 

“Drink. You’ll forget soon.” Seunghyun tried to control his voice while offering bourbon, just to calm and express his apology for mocking the other’s sadness. Although deep down, he wanted to jerk the man up and pour the liquor all at once.

 

 

 

 

“I cannot forget her.” The voice was so fragile, totally surrendered.

 

 

 

 

“We all can forget, Ji. And we can be forgotten too.”

 

 

 

 

They become an actor in life’s Drama, a tragic one. Sometimes, he was curious why men always struggled for hopeless dreams endlessly.

 

 

 

 

Also, it was he...

 

 

 

 

who was fragile and totally surrendered.

 

 

 

 

********************

 

 

 

 

“Are you tired?” He gasped when Jiyong talked through the headphone. Jiyong was gazing at him, seemed to be more enthusiastic.

 

 

“Yeah.”

 

 

“Come out and rest on the sofa.”

 

 

He shook his head. It was safer...in here.

 

 

“Thanks, hyung.”

 

 

“What for?”

 

 

“For telling Teddy to put this in the album.”

 

 

“It’s nothing. You wrote it. Don’t let it be wasted.”

 

 

He scratched his nose lightly. His face felt hot somehow. Conversation stopped abruptly. This silence disturbed him even more than any commotion.

 

 

“Ji...”

 

 

“Yeah?”

 

 

“If I sing one more time, will you be happier?”

 

 

“...”

 

 

“I’m still fine.” He pretended to be joyful, as bingu as always. So Jiyong will smile again. Or at least, He will be in those hazel eyes again.

 

 

“I feel like my heart has stopped beating

You and I, frozen there, after a war

Trauma, that has been carved in my head

Once these tears dry up, I will moistly remember my love

I’m neither painful nor lonely

Happiness is all self-talk

I can’t stand something more complicated

It’s no big deal, i don’t care

Inevitable wandering, people come and go”

 

 

 

 

********************

 

 

 

 

“Ji...” Drowsiness made his voice dry. Bourbon still affected his brain. Seunghyun opened the bedroom door and looked at the slim figure on the sofa. Jiyong’s face was calm, but his eyebrows knotted.

 

 

He walked closer. It was too early to wake him up. He stood there and kept watching. When was he attracted by this man. Jiyong was strong and beautiful as well as sensitive and delicate. And last night, it was even more fragile.

 

 

Crying out all his heart, the smaller man trembled in his arms. It made him realized that woman’s place was so much deeper than he could imagine, even deeper than himself.

 

 

He realized that emotional distance was widening while their physical existence got closer.

 

 

He knelt beside the sofa, trying hard to hold his breath.

 

 

His lips felt warm on a smooth cheek.

 

 

It was an outrageous crime! That divine taste dragged him into the bittersweet chasm.

 

 

 

 

********************

 

 

 

 

Throughout their album promotion and world tour, Seunghyun rapped those lyrics until they were carved into his heart. Sometimes he woke up in the middle of the night and found himself murmuring that rap part like a prayer, slow but firm.

 

 

I’m neither painful nor lonely...

 

 

Jiyong’s song was so moving that it penetrated people’s hearts. And it even reclaimed what had been lost. A year passed, the world went on and on until the calendar nearly ran out of pages. Everyone’s position changed, including her.

 

 

Except him...

 

 

 

 

“Don’t forget to eat dinner.”

 

 

Seunghyun waved at the man in the light-brown coat. Jiyong pulled the white hat down to cover his face. He lowered the car’s glass to look at those eyes.

 

 

“Yeah...Thanks for the ride.”

 

 

“It’s alright. Have a safe trip. And call her when you arrive there, otherwise you’ll get lost like in Japan. I can’t help you out this time. OK?”

 

 

“Yeah, yeah. I know that, Hyung...” Coated window stopped scrolling up when the other man continued talking. “Thanks, really.”

 

 

That grateful voice carved his heart and left severe pain. He felt a vacuum in his stomach. It drained all his feelings. Seunghyun swallowed the bitterness in his chest.

 

 

 

 

“It’s ok. Let’s go”

 

 

 

 

A faint smile appeared on his glowing lips before they faded behind the door labeled ‘DEPARTURE’.

 

 

 

 

********************

 

 

 

 

Seunghyun closed the pension’s door and walked to his car lot. The snow fell lightly. He was going back to celebrate Christmas with his family. He cancelled his schedule and party invitation. His black BMW was parked peacefully under a white blanket of powder. His warm breath vaporized in the air. He wanted to arrive home before dark. But when his hand reached the car door’s handle, his phone rang.

 

 

 

 

A message from the filming team. He finished his reply beside the car. However, when he closed the mail page, his finger hovered over the Instragram icon by chance. Some feeling broadsided him in the chest. He pressed the button.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

// Merry Pinkmas //

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At that moment, Seunghyun realized that tears were hot enough to melt even snow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

---------------------------------------------- THE END ----------------------------------------------