Seungri waited. He had been waiting for hours.

Jiyong's door snapped open and in those red eyes, he looked for the worst yet wishing for the best.

"Thank you," Jiyong finally said, lips parted to meet his. "You can sleep here if you want."

Seungri knew he would always love Jiyong's way to confess to him, the way I love you was never one of them

***

Seungri will always associate the word maybe with Jiyong.

Maybe he will look at me today, he thought to himself when Jiyong walked passed him in the corridor.

Maybe he will talk to me later, he whispered as Jiyong put his headphones on.

Maybe he will let me in, maybe he will ask me to come in.

Maybe he will be around, maybe he will tell me to come around.

"Maybe you'll let me love you," he said. Jiyong's lips were warm against his palm. "Maybe you'll love me too."

Jiyong's eyes were shining as he wrote his heart out.

"There's no maybe. I love you, Seungri," the words hit him hard as Jiyong's forehead being pressed against his, the day Seungri flew out from their shared apartment.

Jiyong is sitting across him today, now, in a red shirt that matched his newest album cover. Black scarf is around his wrist, his short white hair stands out amongst the blinded lighting in the set. As he reads another part of Jiyong's newest song, he can't help but wonder of another maybe.

Maybe, you too.

***

Jiyong had his own light, he owned the spotlight. For years, Seungri ashamedly basked in it, drowning himself in the fire.

The day Jiyong called them off, Seungri went blind. Curtain closed and everything around him becoming pitch black.

He took his own matches and lit himself up with fame. Between new days and busy business, he found himself able to shine too. His friend would praise him; for treating them nicely, for old jokes he never run out of. For many things he had done for stuff they're able to do because of him too.

But when night comes and he's shining the brightest, Seungri couldn't help but wishing to see Jiyong, to feel the heat he possessed like blanket. He wondered what Jiyong might be doing as their life rotated different places and time seemed to never bring them together ever again.

In an endless sky, a star missed the sun, that couldn't be seen during night, when he shone the brightest.

***

"The last one," Seungri tries to say. The tension is choking him, Jiyong's presence both keeping him sane and out of his mind. "Deceit."

Jiyong laughs in a fake way Seungri will always recognize everywhere –although he pretends he doesn't. "Ah, it's my personal favorite."

"Why?"

"Because it's personal."

"How?"

Seungri knows by heart the ethics of his shows, the rules of most talk show. He's been an MC for many times, has been recognized as one of the best recently. It doesn't stop himself from having messy thoughts of Jiyong, it doesn't prevent him from hoping everything to be back to where it used to be.

"It's a song based on personal experience," Jiyong smiles. "If you read the lyrics and listen to –"

"A lie," Seungri says before he can stop himself. His heart is pounding too hard against his ribcage that he's afraid it'll jump out anytime soon. But his biggest fear now is that Jiyong might disappear right before his very eyes before he can ever have a chance to hold him once again. "It's about a lie, I'm reading it."

"Well...it is."

"Why?"

"Eh?"

"Why did you lie?"

"Oh –"

"What kind of lie? Or lies?"

Jiyong smiles, a little bit too wide for Seungri's liking, because he knows how to play the game of fame too. "It was a long time ago."

"Does it matter?" Seungri's palms are sweating. It's too loud because the fans are cheering up, chanting Jiyong's name. Some are holding fansign; bright with colors, full of words. Seungri's mind is empty but his veins pulsating in rude manner. "Lie is lie."

"Seungri."

The thunder in his ears stops. Jiyong's eyes are fixed on him, he is holding Seungri's hand.

Why did he reach for him?

Where did he drop his cue cards?

Since when they're speaking in Korean instead of Japanese?

"It was a long time ago," Jiyong repeats himself, this time, softer; to Seungri. "It matters, yes."

"Because you can't fix it?"

"Because I should," Jiyong says. Syllables hang in the air like cloud, under the thick confusion Seungri finds no rainbow. "I should."

Jiyong seems so small Seungri fears he might slip between his fingers again. So he reaches with his free hand, one that isn't in Jiyong's hold, to have a grip on him. The audiences cheer because it's been long since they interact openly in public but all Seungri sees is Jiyong's furrowed eyebrows and his earring that shaped of an eagle.

"You should," he isn't sure to whom he's talking. Jiyong is listening, as well as hundreds pair of eyes through the cameras and televisions. "You could."

"I could," Jiyong is trembling in his hold but Seungri isn't letting go. He doesn't let Jiyong sink into memories again, no. He can't let him be in his drawer anymore, threatening to jump out anytime from their old photographs. He won't let Jiyong go this time. Above all, he won't let himself go this time.

So he squeezes Jiyong's arm, still firm but thinner, shifting closer. "You can."

Jiyong blinks but Seungri sees future.

***