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“And finally, after eight years, you’ve decided to return to the spotlight. I’m proud of you.”
The mint-haired young man leaning against the drink-filled counter listened, lightly turning his slender body to see who that familiar timbre belonged to. It was Youngbae. Straight white teeth appeared in a beautiful, faint smile at Youngbae’s words, while his lips whispered another drink order to the bartender, who stood mesmerized by Jiyong’s androgynous beauty. Truly, Youngbae was right about one thing; it had been so long since a certain someone had stepped in front of the media that he couldn't even recall how tense it used to be, from crowded airports to dating rumors with younger female idols, it was all frequent and exhausting once again.
“How are you feeling, Ji?”
It was a good question, Youngbae.
In fact, it was almost too good.
Jiyong sighed. He had been so busy lately that he hadn't even stopped to analyze his own health after all the negative rumors the media released to try and destroy his reputation. He had spent years away because of those rumors of "ill-intent" involving his name; they had trended in newspapers and social media hashtags so much that when he realized the sheer amount of love people still had for him, it was a complete shock.
The idol loved by everyone had, from one day to the next, been attacked as if he were easy prey in a Roman Colosseum. People who didn't even know him dared to say absurd things online, seeking to surf on the success of his name, and it was wrecking his mental health. After his return and the release of his new album, Übermensch, he became even more irritated by the public's reaction to its meaning.
Many associated it with the German movement that massacred thousands of Jews; others said his ideas weren't creative, even though there were albums and groups with strange names that didn't receive the same hate and were even more beloved. A question mark appeared in his mind, trying to find the answer to such persecution. Was it because he was K-pop’s main idol? The one considered the "King"?
“I’m glad you asked, Bae. I think I’m okay, I’m not sure.”
Youngbae sighed, stepping even closer to the trembling body of Jiyong. Taking advantage of the fact that people had already finished taking photos with him and the crowd had dispersed, he pulled his friend to a more private corner, an open area where he knew the younger man could smoke freely.
It was a matter of seconds before a pack of cigarettes was pulled from the pocket of his worn jeans. Youngbae knew the true reason for his friend's sadness wasn't the spotlights or how acclaimed he was being at the airport. It was the real problem.
The success of Squid Game and the rise of the new public darling: Thanos.
After one of the most unexpected returns in the most anticipated series on Netflix, the world went crazy with the announcement that the famous T.O.P, also known by his name Choi Seunghyun, would be playing the character Thanos. After rumors of drug use had ruined his image to the point of making him move to Texas and block all his friends on social media, seeing his face plastered on the official account of a major series was a shock to everyone.
But, especially for Jiyong.
The shorter man was one of the people who had most given his heart and soul to a fragile relationship that had only drained his energy and damaged his health at the time. He still remembered the smiles, the laughter, the wine, and the kisses they exchanged in the cold metropolis of Seoul. The wind messed up his green hair, bringing painful memories to a broken heart. Cruel doubts dared to haunt the singer's creative mind. How was it possible for a person who called himself a friend, a "friend-with-benefits" or whatever they had been, to make countless vows of love amidst sweaty sheets, stained with remnants of love, only to announce his departure from the group the next day without even alerting the members?
Had he thought about Daesung’s feelings? Or Youngbae’s? After years together, overcoming obstacles... together? Had he thought, primarily, of Jiyong? Of how much he had given of himself, only to be stabbed in the back by the person he called "oppa"? His comfort? The only person he allowed to lead him through the most difficult moment of his life, the military? The only one who knew every detail, every weakness of both his body and his life, had betrayed him in such a painful way.
“I know you’d really like to resolve this situation with him in the friendliest way possible, Ji. But unfortunately, not eeeeverything is within our reach. You need to understand that he doesn't want contact until he heals from his own pain.” Youngbae’s words, carried by the wind to Jiyong’s pierced ears, felt more like a double-edged sword cutting deeper into his already patched heart. Jiyong gave a sarcastic smile at the unfriendly thought that crossed his mind. Youngbae continued “He already said in interviews that he didn't intend to hurt us, but it seems that even so, you—”
“You’d make a great therapist, Youngbae,” Jiyong said sharply, cutting off the older man (by only a few months). He felt his eyes well up and blinked slightly, lifting his head to admire the stars and make the tears vanish from his sight. He wanted to cry, no, fuck, he needed to cry, but he wouldn't allow himself to appear so fragile to his hyung. His heart burned with the torture his mind was inflicting at that very moment. Memories, countless and increasingly merciless, appeared in his field of vision. His lips formed a pout before he diverted his sharp eyes from Youngbae’s suit. “But I guess in this case, you’re completely right.”
Youngbae sighed deeply. “Stay here and get some air, it’ll be good to clear your troubled mind. You’re tipsy, and we both know what happens when you’re drunk with Instagram in your hands.” Youngbae smiled and laughed at the memories of news that had appeared on the morning of what should have been a quiet week.
He raised his ringed fingers and began to count. “Just in this comeback, you’ve already posted a story with 'Baby Good Night' during Paris Fashion Week and then deleted it, pretending nothing happened; you made a reference to Thanos in your series Good Day, when we both know very well which Thanos is trending, and I assure you it’s not the Marvel one. You said in Daesung’s episode that for a clover to bring luck, it must have foooour leaves, you took a photo with the cast of the series and posted it, and...” Youngbae saw a painful smile dawning on Jiyong's lips and stopped for a moment.
He counted to three before continuing. “Jiyong, I’m serious. You need to forget him. I can only imagine how hard it’s been for you to deal with everything alone, but unfortunately, only you can close the wounds of your heart.” Youngbae spoke calmly, placing a hand on Jiyong’s shoulder with a firm, trusting squeeze.
Jiyong lowered his head and toyed with the glass in his fingers thoughtfully. His lips opened and closed countless times trying to respond, to defend himself, or to justify himself, but silence was the best option at that moment.
Someone shouted Youngbae’s name, calling him inside to resolve a situation, and that was the escape the older man found to leave Jiyong alone. He was entirely correct; he knew very well what had happened to his leader when his former groupmate announced his departure from the famous BIGBANG.
He had lost count of how many times he advised Jiyong to stand back up, and to this day, he remains a main pillar for Jiyong, along with Daesung. Not that Jiyong's actor friends couldn't help him too, but even Soohyuk, best friend to both Seunghyun and Jiyong, told to Jiyong that the ideal thing would be to recover from any haunting emotions first before trying to get close again.
A leaking boat cannot sail in turbulent waters before being repaired.
Jiyong smiled painfully for the thousandth time that night and grabbed his hat; he needed to be alone, and that area still had people talking to each other. Solitude needed to be his only companion, and the moon needed to be the only witness to his fragile state. He stood up and headed for the elevator. His emotions felt like those of a pubertal teenager whose heart was broken by a school crush, so fucking identical, yet with different intensities. It seems that the more people grow, the harder it is to recover from relationships and the more complicated it becomes to fix them.
The light jazz music playing in the elevator occupied Jiyong’s simmering mind as he watched the night city through the glass windows. His fingers tapped lightly on the solid wood railing; his eyes watched his own silhouette, which appeared tired and overwhelmed. An insistent thought crossed his head again before being interrupted by the elevator's chime, signaling that he had finally reached the exclusive penthouse. The music had already changed, giving way to something calmer, more comforting, and yet more intriguing.
His eyes were drawn to the huge television at the bar playing "Magic" by Medasin. The icy breeze hitting his sweaty hair brought an inexplicable peace to his chest, as if he had been needing exactly this to calm down for years. He opened the glass balcony door and heard the notification on his iPhone announce a new message. He saw it was from Youngbae, the beginning said, "Be careful with what you’re going to do..." but the rest was blurred, and Jiyong didn't even bother to find out what it was about.
As soon as the dark glass doors automatically closed behind him to reveal the luxurious terrace with a Japanese garden and a private pool, the silhouette leaning against the glass railing caught his attention.
His body entered a state of trance, the hair on his tattooed neck stood up as an uncomfortable shiver sent a shock through his body. His stomach churned with so many conflicting emotions that nausea bloomed in his gut. His almond eyes were momentarily dazed before focusing back on the man who was casually sipping a glass of wine, appearing to admire the night view of bright Seoul. Jiyong blinked once, twice, three times. He felt his eyes moisten and knew exactly what he feared most was happening.
Tears. Thick drops of water blurred the vision of the "feared G-DRAGON," as many said he appeared. His powerful, unapproachable aura had shattered into a million pieces; the only defense that showed strength to the world, the wall he had built year after year of disappointments, came crashing down because of a single silhouette. His eyes dared to blink more to see if what he was seeing wasn't actually a desert mirage like those in cartoons. His heart began to beat frantically in his chest, and his hands dared to tremble at the sight of his past, standing in a relaxed manner by the glass rails of the empty terrace.
The elegant posture and the black suit contrasted with the strong physique he carried. Dark hair and sharp eyes watched the urban movement in a light and calm way, the broad back that was once Jiyong's safe harbor, the hands with elegant rings that brought more charm and mystery to his figure.
How dare he show up after everything he had done?
As soon as the man’s chocolate eyes met his, an expression of surprise took over the guest's face. Both boys (or men) stood in silence for what seemed like an eternity. The howling, icy wind was the only thing reaching their ears besides the music that seemed to be on an infinite loop. Their fixed gazes and hearts dancing in their chests in synchrony felt like a movie scene where a wife finds her husband, presumed dead by the armed forces, alive in her home.
The shock Jiyong was experiencing felt strangely similar to that. A throat was cleared as the deep, cautious voice of the man, the owner of the ghost that had haunted Jiyong for so long, reverberated in the calm environment.
“Jiyong?”
God damn it, it was like a stab to the chest.
More tears ran down Jiyong's cheeks. The glass in his hands, containing a liquid he thought was whiskey, shattered on the floor; his trembling mouth formed a pout and, uselessly, his slender, tattooed body wanted to kneel and fold, tucking into a ball to protect itself from all the evil in the world. His knees shook and his legs dared to fail; his head spun violently, causing dizziness that made his consciousness falter for a moment. He closed his eyes, waiting for the impact or even for someone to wake him up on a beautiful morning and ask if everything was okay after a nightmare. But when he opened them again, he was swallowed by the sharp, dark immensity of Seunghyun’s chocolate eyes, who held a firm arm around his waist, supporting the shorter man so he wouldn't collapse on the floor.
The sudden proximity of their faces made Jiyong’s cheeks turn red, like rose petals scattering in the wind, and his almond eyes averted from the intense ones staring at him. Seunghyun looked at Jiyong with a certain tenderness, but also with concern; he knew his little love had been through a lot.
Jiyong’s small, decorated hands automatically went to his hyung’s chest, leaning there before focusing his eyes back on his ghost. Who, apparently, seemed to have unstitched every patch Jiyong had made on his heart. “Seunghyun? Is it really you?”
Seunghyun nodded, slowly standing up and supporting the trembling body on the ground. The trembling pouts and innocent eyes gradually gave way to a scowling expression on Jiyong’s face. Seunghyun took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and counted to three. He knew what was coming.
One.
Two.
Three.
“HOW DARE YOU DO THAT TO ME?! You’re an idiot! A son of a bitch! You only thought about your own damn self!” Jiyong’s sharp tongue released words dripping with pure venom. “After everything I did for us, for the boys, for our crappy hidden relationship that the media tried so hard to expose, you still had the AUDACITY to lie with me that night, making vows and promises of love, only so that the next day you could announce your departure from the group and vanish off the map!”
Jiyong screamed, indignant at everything the older man had put him through. His emotions were completely raw, and Seunghyun was going to let him take out all the frustration he had endured alone before explaining calmly. He felt small punches to his chest and took a deep breath. It didn't hurt; after all, spending years without leaving the house and having his own gym had taken effect. Jiyong pushed him rudely, moving away from his body.
“I thought I had done something horrible! I tried to apologize, I tried to call you, to message you, only to find out I was blocked! Do you know how horrible you made me feel?! The media came after me, after my family, Seunghyun! You didn't have that right!”
Countless tears fell from Jiyong's already red eyes. He stopped punching Seunghyun’s chest for a moment; his almond eyes observed the older man’s calm and serene expression. He couldn't do it, he couldn't fucking deal with this right now; it was too much information and too much emotion flowing at once. His knees buckled, causing his body to sit on the floor. He rested his head on his own knees and cried; heavy sobs escaped his lips as he let out his intense pain.
Seunghyun took another deep breath; the storm of the hurricane had passed, now he had to deal with the most fragile part of it all. He approached the small body again, trembling and swaying with cries and sobs, and tilted Jiyong’s chin up, looking deep into those almond-brown eyes he had learned to love so much. With his right thumb, Seunghyun wiped Jiyong's rosy cheek. But it seemed that fountain of feelings wouldn't end; the more he wiped, the more tears flowed, and the more the pout on Jiyong's lips, already swollen from so many bites born of frustration, appeared.
The older man moved his fingers to the angel tattooed neck before intertwining them there and pulling Jiyong’s head to meet his shoulder. That seemed to have a greater effect; the scent of Seunghyun's familiar cologne made Jiyong snuggle even closer to the body that was once his only comfort on stormy days. Seunghyun’s firm, strong arms surrounded Jiyong’s silhouette, and right there, with the tattooed man sitting on the floor and Seunghyun crouching between his legs, they embraced after three or four years. Jiyong wrapped his arms around Seunghyun’s broad back, who left tender kisses in his hair. The scent of Jiyong's fresh, floral perfume brought painful memories to him as well.
Jiyong cried a little more before finally calming down. When his breath, previously gasping, normalized, Seunghyun pulled back a bit to face those beautiful brown eyes again. The tide carrying pure and tender feelings was back; they looked at each other for a few seconds, enjoying the time they had to let their emotions flow lightly and calmly.
“Ji. First of all, I want you to understand one thing,” Seunghyun began. “I needed to do that. I know it might not have been the best choice, but I had to. Do you have any idea what would have become of you, of us, if I had stayed in the group? Imagine you, as the leader, having to deal with that pressure, both mine and yours, which, believe it or not, happened right after and probably brought even more headaches...” Seunghyun spoke in a low, light voice while caressing Jiyong’s damp cheeks. Jiyong was lost in the scent of the cologne he so appreciated. “I couldn't stand it, Jiyong, seeing you wither away more and more over a problem that wasn't yours to handle.”
“But hyung—”
“No, Ji. I love you, so fucking much, and whatever I could do to shield you from the problems I caused, I did. You might not have understood anything at first, but know that what I thought about was exclusively your well-being.” Seunghyun said, leaning his head even closer to Kwon’s. He smelled the scent of flowers mixed with cigarettes, and the nostalgia it brought left him on the edge of a cliff.
“Dammit, Jiyong, you were exhausted after your tour; you were afraid of cameras! A fucking device! Do you know what it’s like to see the person you love so much locked in their room for more than three days? Do you know what it’s like to hear from your own team that someone needed to check if you were dead? Have you ever thought about that? Do you know what it’s like to see you almost having a heart attack after a performance on stage?” His deep voice broke for a few seconds before Jiyong felt Seunghyun hide his face in the crook of his neck and warm drops spill onto his skin. Jiyong’s throat held a knot. “I couldn't help you when you needed me most, so I deduced that moving away might have been the best option for that moment. But I see it only served to hurt us even more...”
Jiyong was speechless. So everything Seunghyun did, even blocking his social media profiles, was to shield Jiyong and the group exclusively from his problems? He could no longer stand the situation they were in? Jiyong’s dark period was the last straw for Seunghyun? How could he have been so selfish as not to realize that the real reason for all of it was himself?
His decorated hands went up to the perfectly styled hair, giving a light tug to pull the defined face away from his neck. As soon as Seunghyun’s face appeared before his eyes, he pressed his damp forehead against the older man’s, allowing himself to be carried away by that sea of dark chocolate that had once been his safe harbor. Tears also dared to leave the older man’s face, but now Jiyong’s gaze was filled with tenderness.
Kwon Jiyong cried with happiness. Choi Seunghyun cried with longing.
“Hyung, just promise me one thing.” Jiyong’s equally broken voice echoed softly in the older man’s ears, who found himself admiring the angelic beauty in front of him. Jiyong’s almond-brown eyes transmitted the peace and comfort he hadn't felt in three years. “Promise that even after everything that happened, you won't abandon me, abandon us, ever again. Dammit, please hyung, just promise...!”
Seunghyun placed Jiyong’s damp face back into his neck, his arms possessively squeezing the younger man’s slender waist. He smiled faintly at the hypothesis that crossed his mind. The universe, sometimes or almost always, seemed to be a stage show. Destinies and souls that held a long and lasting history were the best part.
Seeing soulmates reunite, fixing errors caused by failures and allowing themselves once again to feel a love that was once as intense as a blaze, was definitely enchanting. It seemed that at that moment, all the planets, stars, nebulae, and cosmos that were misaligned, bringing storm and confusion, returned to square one, to normal.
The stars in the sky seemed to be shining even brighter; the moon's graceful, whitish light bathed the skin of the couple who, previously with broken hearts, couldn't find comfort in the prominence that, amidst the dark sky, made a point of illuminating the night paths. And this isn't about the moon. The ocean tides needed the moon to stir their waters; the Earth needed the moon’s influence to perform its rotation normally; humans needed the moon to have control over climates, and it brought calm and grace to those who held beliefs regarding moon baths.
That star, so beautiful and so calm, peaceful and incredibly comforting, was often seen with an aspect of sadness and solitude, but it was actually the most magnificent essence that existed. The moon brought comfort, peace, and stillness.
Just as it brought them to the hearts of Seunghyun and Jiyong.
“I promise, Ji. I will take care of you guys.”