He got scar on his scalp last year. It was winter and his feet seem to be frozen by the chill when he stepped down the stairs of his own empty solitary house. He bounced, twice, before his peaceminusone hat hit the floor, followed by his head and the rest of his body. He didn't know how long it took for his mother to come up by his side, for the nurse to examine his injury, or for his manager to cover up the news so it wouldn't be leashed to the media. But he remembered the moment when he flew, the fragile moment of falling down when his heart skipped its beat. He remembered when it's all silent, when he fought the gravity –even for the briefest moment –before he was pulled again by the force. He remembered about how it felt to be different, a short experience of not standing on earth like everyone else.

He remembered that when he lay on the floor, the air smelled like citrus, the scent of soap Seungri would get from the store; that when he closed his eyes and embraced the pain, the image of love pounded air in his ribcage was the only thing he held onto before his hand blindingly reached for his phone.

***

He didn't ask for him but Seungri came. That's how it works for years, even from the beginning.

That's why he isn't even flinch when Seungri's reflection stands beside his. He had get rid of his suit and now wearing the most plain T-shirt Jiyong ever seen. But it doesn't mean Jiyong can see his heart. Even as they are side by side, Seungri might as well be thousand meters apart.

"Congratulations," Seungri's make up is gone and his eyes are tired. Maybe if he gets his panda eyes back, Jiyong will believe that he never left.

"Thank you," Jiyong swallows hard. Seungri's heat is so inviting he can't help but craving. Seunghyun would laugh at him, at how he's becoming Seungri's admirer instead of the other way around but they both know it's been happening for so long before Jiyong himself realized it. "Thank you for having me in your show."

Seungri nods, his eyes shift to look at the real Jiyong instead of one in the mirror. There's agony in his voice when he says, "It was nice to have you here."

Jiyong ducks his head down in shame. He isn't sure if he should stay or say something, or that he has anything to say. Seungri's watch tells him it's 8 pm. "Don't you have somewhere to go?"

He watches Seungri's feet shift and retreat to the door. He wishes he can follow his movement but his are glued to the floor. It's almost like the time when he helplessly bracing himself from taking him back almost five years ago.

But then Seungri stops just when he's about to go out. Jiyong's eyes are still looking at Seungri's casual sneakers but his ears catch the voice just well.

"I'm starving. How does dinner sound?"

***

When Youngbae's dog died, Jiyong sent him stuff for a week. Coupons for free meal from Youngbae's favorite restaurant, countless messages talking about their old friends, booklets of places with beautiful flowers, silly photo of them from back when they were trainees. Then Youngbae showed up in his house one afternoon, wearing his cap low and worn out jeans.

He hugged his bestfriend but before he could say anything, his own dog came up to greet them. He felt himself stung in his place, waiting for the dam to break.

Except it didn't.

Youngbae patted the happy pet on its head, watching its tail wagged in happiness as he danced too excitedly around his feet. Jiyong watched his friend squatted down to give his dog proper greetings –hug and squeeze and belly rub –before he came to his sense.

"Youngbae –" he started but he wasn't sure of what he had left to offer his condolences. " –I'm sorry."

They were not kids anymore, they had a lot of people running after them, concerts and schedules tightly wrapped around their time that not even a moment of grief could really fit in between. It hurt him to know people expected them to move on when he did not even have control on his heart's pace.

"He's gone," Youngbae said, his palm ran along fur. "He's not going to comeback nor that I can run after him."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"I can't chase him this time," Youngbae stood and he looked at Jiyong. "He won't be there to bark at me when I come home after too long gone."

Jiyong swallowed his next words.

"But I have you."

He wasn't expected to grief, not when he had so many people around looking at him with eyes full of expectation. He didn't know what Youngbae seek from him but he nodded.

When Seungri's show had an episode with Daesung as guest, Jiyong watched it in his house with Youngbae and two bottles of wine. He laughed at their jokes, at the awkward silence when the audience asked Seungri to hug Daesung and the elder made a stoic expression when the younger jumped around him mimicking an excited teenage girl. He made comments of them, Youngbae hummed and smiled at their younger friends as well. Seungri said something that made Daesung teased him, so funny Jiyong almost choked on his wine.

They didn't talk about BIGBANG at all, it was just two friends in a show. They didn't talk about Jiyong as well, as if there were never something to begin with him. At the end of the show, Youngbae's arm was over his shoulder, a comforting gesture he had learned long ago for Jiyong who had been crying without realization.

You have me, Youngbae didn't need to say that. You always have.

So Jiyong leaned on him.

That was the day Jiyong learned he had lose many things, he had lose himself to something that wasn't even a home to him. There were friends who would pick him up, there were people who would catch him, but he surrendered himself to something he didn't really need and want. Amongst the crowd, Jiyong had confused himself of what to do, what to be.

The next day, he announced his official hiatus. The flashes of cameras followed him but he shut himself, far and far away from prying eyes. He still wrote songs, featured in many albums, went to some shows, still the golden child people put him a title of. Except this time, he didn't blink, selfish enough to hide himself in a cocoon of silence.

He didn't know how to fix, but he definitely not going to lose anymore.

***

"I sent your manager home," Seungri picks a meat with his chopsticks. "He was grateful."

Jiyong smiles, a genuine smile he doesn't even make an effort for. "He must be. It's been a tiring week."

"Promotion? Are you planning for a tour?"

"Yeah, it's been discussed for a while."

"No decision just yet?"

"No," Jiyong miss this kind of conversation. At ease, without rush or scattering plans for tomorrow. "I want to take it easy."

"Take it easy," Seungri repeats and feed himself spoonful of rice. "It doesn't sound like you."

"I've changed," Jiyong murmurs before he can stop himself and Seungri is listening because he always does.

The next minute is silence only for the sound of spoons hitting bowl and sizzling of meat.

"Like what?"

Jiyong raises his eyebrow, his mouth hangs open. "Excuse me?"

Seungri smiles at him, not too wide and not too hopeful. It's small smile that he would offer Jiyong whenever Jiyong tried to shut him off of the troubles he's into, those time when Jiyong asked him to stay away so Seungri couldn't see the pain in him. It's the same smile that made Jiyong fell in love with him.

"What have changed about you?" his eyes wait for story and Jiyong can't say no.

"A lot."

"Then tell me."

"About me?"

"Yeah," Seungri nods. "About you."

***