Why can't I live in peace? is a thought that he's recently found himself asking lately, repeating it over and over like a broken record in his head. Especially at times like this.

He stared out in front of him, sitting at the foot of the bed, his back taking support from the edge of the mattress and the cold hard wooden floors seeping through the fabric of his pants as his legs sprawled lazily in front of him. He hadn't bothered to turn on the lights in the room after watching the sun set, hoping that the matching darkness of his mood would find comfort from the lack of light. He'd been sitting here for hours after the incident, but it only made him feel emptier, even more hollow now that the last bit of what remained of his privacy was once again revealed against his will.

Just beside him was the only source of light in the room. The nonstop blinking of the screen of his phone. Notification after notification of comments from his fans, bombarding him with questions, accusations, some of support, yet a good handful of them were nothing but hatred for the 'secrecy' and privacy that he thought he at least deserved. Not as G-Dragon, not even as Kwon Jiyong, but as a human being.

Among those blinking icons and words, he knew, came from his family, his friends, those who he truly loved, trusted, and that cared for his well being. But despite the comfort that should've brought him, he only felt more suffocated. As he didn't even have to tell them what was wrong, all they had to do was check online and see his name is bold. There was nothing left he could possibly hide from anyone, nothing he could keep just to himself.

His skin rose with little bumps that made him shudder as it felt like millions of eyes and ears were lying in wait, listening, watching, and with one little move, their millions of lips would screech at him, deafening him with their opinions and hate.

The constant buzzing of his phone going off beside him, the emptiness he is feeling in his stomach, the tiredness creeping in slowly were all banging against every wall in his skull. Not even given him the peace of mind he craved for. He tried to seek some comfort in the palm of his hands as he rubbed them against his eyes, roughly, wishing and wanting he could unsee the millions of comments ripping apart his loved ones and screaming at him that he's not entitled to live the way he wished.

But as the voices and comments kept coming, the feeling he'd been trying to subdue over years of being in the spotlight were slowly crawling it's way out of him. Seeping from every memory and locked up feelings of being wronged, misunderstood, or forbidden of freedom. Building up from all the years of probing and testing his limits, all the years of protests against who he could love, who he could spend time with, how he can't possibly be allowed to live a normal life with the occupation he chose. Resentment was flowing through every vein in his body and it made him feel sick with guilt. Because it would make him ungrateful to have these feelings towards anyone. And yet he couldn't help it, he was only human.

It was as if he was splitting into two, a part of him pulling with dear life towards the life he wanted, to be with who he wanted, and to live happily and healthy with those who mattered, while the other side was pulling with just as much force along with the weight of responsibility he had been carrying ever since he signed that contract. Looking back at that day, he never would've looked at it as signing his life away.

The responsibility he has towards his fans, the company, and s. The responsibility he had as G-Dragon. Fashion Icon. Composer. Music genius. Prince of YG Entertainment. He had all of these things, yet was he ungrateful for wanting more? A son. A brother. A boyfriend. A friend. A husband. A father. He wanted to be all of those things too. Was he being too greedy? 

His whole body began to shake and quiver as he slowly felt his limbs start to pull in towards himself automatically, to escape the existing pressure that was starting to collapse on top of him. His body tilted to it's side as he let himself slip to the floor in a fetal position. His arms and legs wanting to disappear into his chest as he kept his hands firmly pressed against his eyelids, forbidding the ungrateful tears to spill. He could feel his face start to contort in pain from trying hard to hold back the sobs threatening to unleash into this cruel and unforgiving world.

But the pressure building up within him was far greater than he could hold in. So he let it out. All of it. Every single drop of water that was left in his body as he wept. And with each tear that escaped him, took along a piece of himself, a piece of naivety, optimism, and trust he had for those he thought would love and respect him despite everything. Spilling out of him slowly until all that remained was a 27 year-old man who just wanted to live.