When he left his hometown to pursue his dreams, Seungri didn't think about coming back. Not yet, he's tell himself as his legs stood up again for another try, another practice, another day. Not yet.

When he left his country to forget his dreams, Seungri heard his heart said the same. Not yet, as he counted the steps toward a new place he didn't wish to go. Not yet, except this time, it's about leaving instead of coming back.

***

The question renders him speechless.

"What?"

"Stay the night," Jiyong repeats. "Here."

"I –we can't."

"Why not?"

The question came too fast and with so much pressure it suffocate them both, hangs in the cloud like umbrella of fire. Answer is coming to his tongue but every fiber in his body refuses to acknowledge it because it'd be true; because then, everything will fall apart once again.

"Why not, Seungri?" Jiyong's voice cracked it stabs Seungri in the chest. "Do you hate me?"

Can he? Will he?

"Because I love you," there's no room for hesitation between his words. "And that I always will."

"I can't lose you," but even so Jiyong knows it's slipping passed the gap of his fingers. That even with Seungri being so close and he's holding him as tight as he can, it's a losing battle. Not again.

"And I can't lose you," Seungri's voice hits his shoulder. Even if that means I have to lose us.

"You won't, I'll do something –"

"Like giving up on your dreams?"

"You are –"

"I can't," Seungri feels like he's underwater and surface is too far he can't even see the reflection of the sun. "If you lose your dreams, you won't be you anymore."

It's true, they both know that.

"I can get through it," Jiyong takes Seungri's hand in his. "I will."

"How would you stop dreaming? How would you stop singing? How would you step back from that world?"

Jiyong chokes a sob but Seungri's eyes are full of tears and there's thunderstorm ringing in his ears he can't see past the sadness.

"Exactly," Seungri says. "You don't."

"Seungri –"

"And you won't."

"Please?"

"Promise me, hyung. Promise me you won't."

"I can't lose you, I really can't, Seungri..."

"You won't," he breathes Jiyong, it feels like living again. "You know where to find me, you always know."

***

What comes after disaster? You know how to take precautions. You know that it could come anytime and you put up your best barricade of defense to protect what you have, what you want to save. You wait and wait.

But what you do when it's over? When thunderstorm is gone and earthquake stops and silence hung in the air and moon shaped wrong? Do you pick up leftovers and build a new thing? Do you walk away so that you don't have to see the broken pieces?

Do you start anew? Do you continue?

***

"Who is that?"

"Seungri," Jiyong answered immediately.

"Oh, your friend?"

How do you answer a question you don't wish to answer? How to lie when you know it's bad you feel so dirty of yourself?

"My bandmate, used to."

"Ah, I've heard about it. Sorry for the disbandment, man."

"It was two years ago."

His new friend shrugged. "What's past is past."

"Yeah," Jiyong slipped the photograph in his pocket.

Is it possible to move on if you don't want a future?

***

It's like touching water. You can feel it with your fingertips but you can't hold it.

"It's impossible," Seungri's voice so tiny it rings. "To find Seunghyun–hyung chairs he doesn't know about."

"You still haven't gotten him presents?"

"Don't tell me you already have."

"Okay, I won't," Jiyong sighs. Seungri's hair is black against the carpet, darker than the night.

"What did you get him?"

"Trip to Alaska."

Seungri laughs, even weakly, the sound gives Jiyong some air. "Meanie."

"Said someone who haven't gotten anything for him."

"What would be the best present?"

"You," and he's not even kidding. Jiyong is tired enough to pretend. Besides, it's Seungri. It's so easy to be him with Seungri. "But you won't fit in the box."

"Not in the frame either," Seungri's hand comes to rest on Jiyong's chest. Jiyong, who doesn't believe in fortune teller, wonders if he can print lines on Seungri's palm so their fate will cross somehow.

But you fit in me, in my everything that it's so wrong to not see you filling the cracks.

"I wonder what Daesung will give him."

"His concert ticket, what else?"

Jiyong feels laughter bubble in his stomach. "You're right."

"We should give Daesung–hyung something too, it's his concert."

Jiyong closes his eyes, already ahead in tomorrow, in days coming on their way. "We can give him Seunghyun–hyung and you can give Seunghyun a Daesung."

"Sounds like worst gift ever."

"You'd never know."

"Will do that anyway," Seungri gets up and it's already Friday. "I should go."

Jiyong doesn't say anything, he doesn't trust himself to even blink.

"Goodnight," it sounds like goodbye.

"Be careful," Jiyong says, too late because Seungri is already gone from his vision. This time when Seungri left, he watched.

***

"I'm still your mother even if you decide to live in outer space."

He was too thunderstruck to say anything. "Mom?"

"I made us lunch," his mother smiled at his expression. "What?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Giving my son a visit? What else?"

"Well, I know," Seungri stepped back to let her come inside. "You could've tell me about it."

"Surprise!" she laughed. "How are you doing?"

"Great, they said I'll have my own talk show."

"Really? That's awesome," she linked her arm with his, wondered where was the tiny baby that used to wake her up at exactly 2.30 a.m. many years ago.

"Yeah, I think so too."

His mother, who knew every single unspoken word in his head, squeezed his hand tightly. "Your dad misses you."

"I miss him too, but I can't go home now. I have a lot to do here, mom."

"I know. Take care of yourself."

"Nobody does it better than you," he grinned.

She nodded although she knew it's impossible for her to heal something crafted deeply in her son's heart, not when Seungri himself refused to be healed. "Let's eat."

***

How do you explain a lover?

How do you fit ocean in a cup?

How do you tell about something that's so much you can't believe it's true?

How, when he left, do you explain to yourself that it wasn't just a dream?

What memento would you choose to remember?

What kind of sacrifice would you pick to forget?

***