iii

“How many days is it til Little Seunghyunnie comes home?”

Big Seunghyun groans and looks up at the ceiling. “Ji, that makes it about the eighteenth time you’ve asked.”

“Four days,” says Youngbae, helpfully.

“It’s like you have a huge schoolgirl crush on the poor kid,” continues Big Seunghyun.

“Excuse me! Half of Korea would be dying to be the object of my desire,” sniffs Jiyong. “And I don’t have a crush on Seungri,” he adds, as an afterthought. “It’s my job as a leader. To be concerned about these kinds of things.”

“To worry incessantly and unnecessarily,” says Big Seunghyun sarcastically.

“I’m showing compassion towards my band members.”

“You’re going a bit overboard here, Jiyong.”

“Fine! If it bothers you that much, I’ll shut up,” Jiyong snaps, crossing his arms over his chest and looking resolutely out the window. A plane soars by, and Jiyong wonders how many hours are left until Seungri boards one home. He tries the maths in his head. The numbers get jumbled up and he resolves to use a calculator, when he can find one.

It’s finally quiet in the small kitchen, except for the sound of tinny music from Youngbae’s headphones and the quiet thuds of Jiyong swinging his legs from his perch atop the kitchen counter. Big Seunghyun smiles in the rare silence, turning the pages of his newspaper.

“Do you think Seungri remembered to get me a souvenir?”

12

That can’t be right, Jiyong frowns. The door’s open, and the light is on, spilling through the gap into the dark corridor - and he’s one hundred percent sure he turned it off when he left.

Various things are running though his mind - including that article he read the other day on the internet, detailing the modus operandi of a cat burglar with rather vicious tendencies, and the thought that if he died today, it wouldn’t be so bad because at least he made his mark on the world, right? And - oh god, who was he kidding, he wasn’t ready to die just yet and maybe he should go back downstairs and grab a baseball bat to defend himself - !

“Hyung?”

Jiyong gives a tentative push, and the door swings open. Seungri sits on the bed, swathed in blankets, sleepy-eyed and tired-looking. “Hi,” Seungri says, just hi.

“What are you doing in my room, Seungri?”

Seungri shrugs, flopping down onto the mattress and rolling over to make room. “I dunno. I got lonely,” he says quietly, and Jiyong thinks maybe it’s better not to ask.

13

Seungri comes back from the cinema wide-eyed and excited, speaking at a million words per minute and so enthusiastic Jiyong almost regrets turning down his invitation the other day. After all, it didn’t sound like a particularly enjoyable way to spend his evening, camping out until midnight to watch the last installment of Harry Potter - he’d never finished the book series, anyway, much less the first seven movies.

“-but seriously, hyung,” Seungri gabbles, motioning wildly with his hands. “You have to see it.”

“I’m not really interested in these kinds of things, though,” explains Jiyong, but he’s looking for an excuse to change his mind.

“That’s okay, you should see it anyway,” says Seungri with an earnest nod. “It will change your life.”

Jiyong highly doubts this, but the expression on Seungri’s face almost convinces him. “Well, maybe I’ll see it tomorrow.”

“Great! I’ll go book you a ticket online-”

“Wait, I can’t see it by myself!” Jiyong protests.

“Huh?”

“That’s... I’ll look dumb. I’m supposed to be Big Bang’s ever popular leader and I’m going to see a Harry Potter film, of all things, alone,” says Jiyong. “It could be damaging to our reputation.”

Seungri scratches his head, and he can’t understand why that would be a problem. “Then - then find someone to see it with. Youngbae-hyung is probably free tomorrow-”

“He’s busy,” says Jiyong quickly.

“Well-”

“How about you?”

“But,” says Seungri, “I just saw it an hour ago, hyung.”

“You wouldn’t mind seeing it twice, right? If it’s so life-changing?”

“Well, no-”

“Great! It’s a date, then,” grins Jiyong and bounds up the stairs. “I’ll go book us tickets online!”

(Jiyong isn’t a genius, but he’s pretty damn smart.)

14

“ you, hyung.”

Jiyong gives him a wink. “I wouldn’t mind.”

15

Sometimes, Seungri tries so hard Jiyong can practically see the cogs turning in his brain and his muscles working feverishly under his skin.

“Restart the music, hyung. Let’s go through it one more time.”

Jiyong flops on the floor, not unlike a beached jellyfish. “But we’ve already done it thousands of times, Seungri-yah. We’re nearly perfect.”

“Just once more!”

Jiyong blinks the sweat from his eyes, and they run like rivers down his face. Seungri is just as tired as he is - possibly even worse, judging from how dark his eyebags are. The grey cotton shirt hangs off his shoulders, drenched and almost torn in a few places. In the silence that follows, Jiyong can hear heavy breathing, loud enough to echo off the mirrored walls of the practice studio. He rolls over and gets up slowly to his feet. Seungri hasn’t moved.

“You should take a break.”

“Later.”

Jiyong pushes Seungri into a chair forcefully, taking him by surprise. “Take a break, I said.”

“Two minutes, hyung.”

“Make it twenty.”

Seungri glares behind his fringe. Jiyong suddenly thinks it’s ridiculous, what they’re arguing about. He sits down next to the boy, drawing him into an apologetic hug, despite the sweat and tears and general unhygienic-ness of it all.

“You don’t need to try so hard.”

“Yes, I do. I have to show everyone that I can dance, I can sing, that I’m not the deadweight. I have to make people love me, hyung.”

“Well - well, maybe the whole world doesn’t have to love you, Seungri-yah,” says Jiyong. “Maybe you only need one person.”

The edge of Seungri’s thin line of a mouth twitches. It’s only slight, but it’s something. Jiyong ruffles the mess of hair affectionately, almost getting his fingers tangled.

“And I don’t like to share, anyway.”