If there was a poll taken of who was the most ill tempered person in YG, the unanimous answer would be Dong YoungBae.

In the weeks following the break up, YoungBae began to feel even more out of control than he had been feeling before it. Atleast then, he could function. Atleast then, he could throw himself in to work and exhaust himself mentally and physically. But with the 'Alive' tour being over and things still not quite settled for the next, he had way too much time on his hands. To fill the gap, he played video games, a lot. He shopped, a lot. He worked out, a lot. What he didn't do, was set foot in the YG building any more than absolutely necessary.

Everyone was mad at him and he was mad at everyone. There were days when his phone actually didn't ring. His own mother had little to say to him after she found out that he had ended the relationship. JiYong tried repeatedly to convince YoungBae to go to Luna's house and beg for forgiveness. That got him promptly cursed out every time. In fact, Luna's name became comporable to Voldemort's and anyone who broke the unwritten rule of speaking her name was swiftly dealt with.

Though he knew he had acted rashly, though he knew he had done a stupid thing, he couldn’t face her. He couldn't talk about her, let alone to her. He didn't even want to think about her. That last image of her crying on the floor was burned on the backs of his eyelids, and he saw it every time he closed his eyes. He had hurt her. He had done it because he felt like he was drowning. He sacrificed her happiness for his own. He had been under the impression that if he could remove her from his list of priorities for a while, everything would get back to normal. Nothing could have been farther from the truth.

The music was gone in him. No melodies played in his head as he sat at the piano. No lyrics came to mind as he listened to tracks he and others had produced. He was known—envied, even— for his ability to move like water when he danced, but he felt stiff no matter how much he stretched. Things were not better without Luna, they were worse.

I'm an idiot.

I miss her.

So there he sat, alone at home on a Saturday night because no one wanted to talk to him. He lazed about on the couch eating cold noodles and flipping through channels for want of better things to do. Maybe I should reorganize my closet. Maybe I should go and see my mom. Maybe I should just curl up in a ball and die. Maybe I should—

Knock, knock.

Surprised, YoungBae opened the door to reveal Teddy. “Hyung—”

“Go get dress. We're going out,” Teddy ordered, then sniffed. “Correction. Take a shower, then get dressed. We're going out.”

“I'm not in the mood to—”

“I ain't ask all that. I told you to go, take a shower and put some clothes on,” he told YoungBae sternly. “My young boy is having a party tonight and my date canceled. You're my fall back. Hurry up. You've got thirty minutes.” Teddy sat down on the couch, put his feet on the coffee table and picked up the remote.

“Hyung, I—”

“Unless the rest of that sentence is 'I'm ready', I'm not hearin' it. Twenty-nine minutes, Bae.” Teddy warned, not even looking at him. YoungBae raised his hands like, 'What the hell?' and went to clean up and dress.

He took a very quick shower, not bothering to take the time to wash his hair. He had taken his braids out earlier, so his hair had a curly look to it. It had gotten damp in the shower, so he pushed it off to the side. Whatever. He threw on a black t-shirt and comfortable, black, leather shorts. With one last look in the mirror, he shrugged and grabbed a pair of sunglasses. Whatever.

“With two minutes to spare. Good job. Let's go.” Teddy turned off the TV and walked to the front door.

“Where are we going?” YoungBae asked, hoping he'd actually get a response this time.

“You know Zion.T? He and JiYong just worked on a song together. I like his style. Anyway. He's about to drop an album and I want to go lend some support. Throw some name recognition his way,” Teddy explained. “We won't stay long, but you needed to blow the stink off you. I know you've been holed up in that apartment for days now.”

They got to the car and YoungBae climbed into the passenger seat. “We won't stay long?” YoungBae asked, just to be sure.

“Nah, we won't. We'll hurry up and get you back to your solitude and misery in no time.”

“I'm not miserable.”

“Sure,” Teddy fit a lot of sarcasm in to that one syllable word. “You also haven't been an insufferable this past month, either.” As YoungBae opened his mouth, Teddy turned the car on and the music drowned out anything he had to say.

*****

“Hey, Luna. Just wanted to let you know I'm on my way.”

“Oh, yeah? Great. I'm almost ready,” . No I'm not. Luna stood in her underwear and looked at the three outfits on her bed. “What's your ETA?”

“Ten minutes?” SeungHo guessed.

. . This is what I get for procrastinating. “I left the back door open for you. Just come on in when you get here. Okay?” She hung up and threw the phone on the bed.

Luna looked at her choices again and started reciting, 'eenie, meenie, miney, moe . . .' In the end, her finger landed on a navy blue dress. She snatched it up, put it on quickly and fought with the back zipper while making her way to the closet to pick accessories. No, no, no, no . . . what? Her gaze landed on a necklace that she thought she had gotten rid of. Lifting it from the drawer, Luna held in her hands the opal necklace YoungBae had bought for her in Australia. The spiteful side of her told her to drop in the garbage, but another side told her it would look lovely with her dress. Should I? Walking to the mirror, she held the piece up to her neck and scrutinized herself. She fastened it and looked at herself. Damn. It's perfect.

'When you wear it, think of me and smile. That is my required form of payment.', his words came back to her. Luna bared her teeth in a self-satisfied smirk. Debt payed. Her smile fell right after. She heard the alarm chime and raced to the bathroom while she put in simple, diamond studs.

“Luna?” SeungHo called out as he entered.

“Come on up! I'm just finishing my makeup,” Thankfully, Luna had let her foundation and concealer 'cook' while she dealt with her hair. Picking up her brush, she blended it all together quickly and reached for her eyeliner. She was just starting to apply it when SeungHo came up the stairs and tsk'd at her. “Don't judge me.”

“I thought you were almost ready?” he questioned.

“'Almost' is such a fluid word,” she said with grave sincerity as she looked around for her mascara. SeungHo ed the jacket of his suit, sat on the edge of the tub and watched her closely. So noticeable was his gaze that Luna looked at him in the mirror. “What?”

“Eyes.”

“Yes,” she said slowly. “I have two of them. So do you, for that matter. And if I've been drinking, you could have up to eight.” Luna dodged to her right just in time to avoid the slap aimed at her leg.

“It's always been about the eyes for me. I see people with them. I judge people by them. I feel connected to people through them,” he explained. “What I saw in your eyes the first day we met—that day oh, so long ago when you laughed in my face on a treadmill—was happiness. Genuine and real happiness. I'm not saying it was love at first sight, but I was definitely interested. And I saw it every time we met, until December. It's changed since then.

“The sparkle is gone. You smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes like it used to,” he told her as he stood to move closer. Luna lowered the brush she had been using and looked down at the sink. He touched her chin lightly and turned her face towards his. “I don't care who he is, I don't care what he did. You don't ever have to tell me anything about that. What I would like you to tell me is, how do I fix it? What can I do to make you happy like you were when we met?”

Luna dropped her chin and looked at the buttons of his crisp, white shirt. Standing so close, she noticed for the first time how tall he was. Well, a little taller than YoungBae at least. She knew what he was asking, without him saying the exact words.

It would be easy. SeungHo was smart, handsome and he got her humor. In some ways, he reminded her of YoungBae. They both played the piano. Both men loved children and looked forward to fatherhood. They both carried themselves with dignity and quiet authority. They both loved to dance. Both were the shortest members of their groups. They probably weighed the same amount, but where YoungBae was ripped, SeungHo was softer. And there were the lips—

“Luna?”

“I'm not ready,” she whispered. “I just got out of a relationship and I'm not ready to be somebody's 'somebody' yet.”