Hey everyone!

This has nothing to do with my story, but I'd just like to start by asking all of you to keep in mind the victims, and family and friends of the victims of the September 11 terrorist attacks in New York City on this day, ten years ago and to be open-minded and understanding to the religious and cultural groups who were poorly and inacurately represented by the individuals who perpetrated the attack.

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Youngbae sighed quietly as he dared to steal a glance at the digital clock on the left bedside table. It was nearly two o'clock in the morning, yet he was still as awake as he had been, when he had first climbed into bed, almost four hours ago.

Hardly a soul on Earth enjoyed being unable to fall asleep at night, despite having had a demanding, tiring day and for Youngbae, such nights were unfortunately occuring on a regular basis.

It didn't matter how many hours he put into dance practice, how much additional exercise time he spent at the gym, how early he had to wake up in the morning, nor how (pleasantly) tired Seunghyun made him, at night. Almost every night, he would be kept awake by a continuous stream of thoughts that plagued him and robbed him of much-needed sleep.

Trying his best to not wake Seunghyun, Youngbae eased the older man's arm from around his waist, with some difficulty, (he had to smile at how protective and possessive Seunghyun was of him, even in sleep), and got out of bed, padding his way across the room, to the open balcony, from which cool, fresh air was breezing softly, and lifting the translucent silk curtains that adorned the french doors.

It was cold outside, and he shivered a little at the prickle of chill, pre-autumn air that greeted his bare arms. The arresting cold, however, was still appreciated, as it allowed him to stop thinking, for a moment.

Youngbae wasn't sure, exactly, where his multitude of thoughts was coming from, now why he was thinking in such a manner. He had so much to be happy about- an internationally flourishing dream career, trustworthy friends and a wonderful boyfriend- yet he often felt troubled, as he was feeling that night. 

He was feeling uncertain, in many ways and extremely anxious. Almost overnight, it seemed, his career had exploded and he had become almost a house-hold name in the entertainment industry. All of a sudden, his daily agenda was packed with urgent and vital tasks, people were willing to give almost anything to pry into his private life- even if the information given was what he had had for lunch on any given day-  and he was having less and less personal time and privacy to enjoy.

Only a few days ago, a friend in America had called to ask after him, then had told him about an article in a national magazine, regarding the spread of kpop, and with his name and picture as the heralding front for the news.

Yes, success and popularity was what Youngbae had wanted...but he still wasn't sure how to handle so much of it. Time-management had never been much of a problem for him, when he was busy, but still less occupied than he was, now. But rather than facing the tasks that he had, lined up for him each day, he found himself avoiding them, or unable to complete them all. So far, he'd "gotten away with it", but he knew that he had to start prioritizing, or else his career would fizzle out as quickly as it had been lit.

Sometimes, however, he felt as if he wouldn't mind if his schedule succeeded in swallowing him, and his career came to an end, as a result. Then, he might be able to salvage whatever was lifet of his private life, and enjoy his humanity, again, rather than constantly being put on a pedestal, to be worshipped, yet treated as no more than the unfeeling, inanimate clay-figure of a god. 

The pressure to be on top was overwhelming for the young man and he couldn't help but to wonder if it would only lead him to a dead end. He was not even in his thirties, yet, and already he was "taking over the world".  

So many other "idols" had signed onto major international record companies, hoping to expand their world-wide popularity, and Youngbae couldn't help but to feel that they, he included, were all like an army of androids, invading continent after continent and covering the world with the idyllic glass-bubble that was his impression of kpop...

What would happen, Youngbae wondered, to regional music, unique to each culture and tradition? What of the all time classics of roc, pop soul, jazz...? Were they all to be replaced by his native country's machine-like industry?

At times, he felt that his career, as well as that of many other idols, was becoming generic. Often times, he would have an idea for a song, but would be told to change the lyrics or melody- sometimes to forget about the tentative piece, altogether- because it wasn't "catchy" or danceable. He would find himself flipping through a magazine in the studio, when he took a break, only to have difficulty recognizing the faces of his friends and colleagues, as they seemed to be wearing similar outfits and making identical poses. The focus wasn't even on music, anymore, or dance. It was on relationships, personal information, private quirks... Youngbae was surprised that he had managed to keep his relationship with Seunghyun a secret, for so long.

Then, he would come across a photograph of himself, only to find that he was no different, and just as much of a plastic product.

But there was no way out. There was no way for him to pick up on all that he had been unable to finish, no way for him to be innovative, or creative, no one for him to break out of the mold he'd been crammed into...

Youngbae felt like a cultured plant, unable to experience the world beyond the greenhouse. Through the glass panels, he could see the world around him; the rugged storms, the unique trees; but he knew that if he ever left the confines of the "regulated building", he would be unable to survive the gruelling, humbling, and normalizing conditions of the "real world". The outside "vegetation" would look longingly at the inside of the greendhouse, feeling envious of the "silver platter" on which its occupants' lives were served, but it was Youngbae who was jealous- who wished that he still had something to accomplish, something to reach out for- that wasn't in view, but out of his grasp.

He felt like an over-sentimental and ungrateful idiot, really, as he realized that he had actually begun to cry. What kind of a man was he?, he thought, bitterly. He had health, wealth, even love, yet he was crying his eyes out, in the middle of the night because he was unsatisfied with his life.

It was just so frustrating.

-----

Seunghyun shifted a little, only to find that his partner was no longer in bed, with him. It was his turn to sigh, as he glanced at the clock and saw that it was nearly three in the morning.

Youngbae's nightly disappearances had been becoming more and more frequent, and he was very worried for the younger man. He knew that Youngbae had a lot to deal with, what with "Taeyang" 's infectious popularity, and so, he hadn't said anything to his boyfriend, understanding his need for time to think.

But this had gone on long enough. Youngbae was clearly not sorting things out, successfully, and Seunghyun felt the need, as Youngbae's lover, to help him. If this went on, the younger man would give himself a heart attack within the next decade, and Seunghyun hated to see such a pretty face looking so troubled...

Knowing exactly where his boyfriend would be, Seunghyun lept out of bed, despite it being the dead of night, grabbed a quilt, and made his way to the balcony.

-----

Youngbae had absolutely no idea how long it was that he had been standing on the balcony, crying, and feeling more pathetic than ever. It was cold, he was tired, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to set foot in his bedroom, just yet.

He gasped, however, as he felt a pair of strong, familiar hands, wrap a warm, thick blanket on his shivering shoulders, and pull him close, into solidly warm frame.

"Don't cry, baby," Seunghyun whispered, pulling the blanket over Youngbae's shoulders, tightly, and leaving a kiss on the back of his lover's neck.

Wordlessly, he led Youngbae to one of their cushioned, designer balcony chairs, sat down, and pulled Youngbae onto his lap.

"What's wrong?" He asked, softly, rubbing his lover's back in a comforting motion.

Youngbae sniffed, then found himself spilling out all of his worries and thoughts that had been stressing him out and preventing him from resting properly.

Seunghyun listened to every word, and found himself able to relate to his lover's troubles. Not once had he gone without thinking similar thoughts, over the course of his time in entertainment.

With touching tenderness, he brushed away Youngbae's fresh tears and kissed his lips, gently.

"I know how you feel, baby, and I wish I could make it all go away...but I can't," he his lover's still cold hand. "But if it makes you feel better, you're not alone. I bet a lot of others feel the same way...and even if they don't, you'll always have me," he added, with a smirk, getting a smile out of Youngbae.

Seunghyun simply held his boyfriend, as they watched the stars, without immediate intentions to go back to bed.

"...You know, one day, maybe we could get a place far out in the country, where no one would recognize us," Seunghyun suggested, after awhile. "Our neighbors would live acres away from us, and they would be elderly people, more interested in enjoying their retirement than finding out what "Taeyang and TOP" are up to," he smiled, rubbing Youngbae's sides.

Youngbae smiled and snuggled against his lover's chest as he imagined the fantasy life that he and Seunghyun could have.

"And," Seunghyun smirked, as he whispered into Youngbae's pierced ear and pulled him a little closer, resting his hand on the younger man's lower abdomen. "We could have a baby together..."

Youngbae flushed, straightened up, and slapped his lover's bare chest lightly.

"...!! No we can't...! I mean, I can't...!" He spluttered.

Seunghyun chuckled at how flustered Youngbae had become.

"We could still try!" He grinned, then kissed Youngbae, before he could say anything else in protest.

With that, he lifted his lover in his arms, and carried him back into their bedroom. Carefully, he laid Youngbae beneath the duvet of their bed, then joined him and wrapped his arms around him, again.

"I know it's late, sweetie, but try to get some sleep," Seunghyun said, kissing Youngbae's shoulder. "We have a new day, tomorrow..."

Youngbae smiled, as he snuggled into Seunghyun's warm arms.

A new day. A new start.

For the first time in a while, he didn't have difficulty falling asleep.

Thanks for reading!!

x Angela