Bruise is a reminder that your body had been hurt. Scars are stories, or Jiyong would rather say, melodies.

But what to call open wound he cannot see?

***

Seungri isn't sure if he should trust Seunghyun to organize a party ever again or not. It's started just fine; only five of them in a secluded room had been reserved in advance with seveal of food –it's a Japanese food restaurant and God knows how could they manage to serve them rice and kimchi and steak and lots of meat also French fries and cakes with lots of candles, but no soup–and bottles of wine, all phones being put inside Seunghyun's bag in the name of privacy and friendship. Daesung stood up and said thanks for everyone gathering in his concert then called for the birthday boy –hyung –to stand up and say something. By something, Seunghyun actually talked for a full ten minutes about what and how he felt that after so many things they've done individually after the disbandment, they finally managed to have this kind of meeting on his birthday. Youngbae clapped and Jiyong rose his glass but Seunghyun told them to sit back because no he's not done yet. Seungri had to refrain himself from sighing because Seunghyun then started to talk about his art exhibition and this and that and his thought about adopting a Persian kitten. Given opportunity for sitting beside Seunghyun, Daesung sneakily take his bowl, so slow and quiet compared to Seunghyun's speech, and eventually starting to eat his rice. Jiyong, Youngbae and Seungri who were sitting on the opposite side could only stare with jealousy as Seunghyun went on.

"I think it's a wonderful idea," Youngbae finally said, grabbing his own bowl of rice that must be cold by now. Seungri wasn't sure what he meant but Youngbae himself seemed not sure about it either.

Seunghyun grinned. "Great! Can we eat now? I'm starving."

Daesung, whose bowl was already half empty, hiccupped. "Pass me the water, please?"

"No," Jiyong and Seungri said in unison, mocking him as they greedily chewed on their food.

***

"Hyung," he was startled, his chest felt like thunderstorm, his breath was caught in his throat. "What are you doing here?"

Jiyong barely spared him a glance. "Writing. Go back to sleep."

Seungri's heart slowed down and Jiyong's fingers on his ear slowly lulled him back to sleep. "In my bed?"

Jiyong hit his forehead with his pencil, twice. "Go back to sleep."

Seungri snuggled closer to him which earned him another hit and fell asleep.

When he woke up, Jiyong's gone.

***

"Seungri?"

"Hmm," he blinks, unaware of how many times had passed since he excused himself from the dinner to go to the restroom. "Yeah?"

"Jiyong is worried," Youngbae lowers his gaze from Seungri's stunned face. "I know what happened."

"What did happen?" but it was more a question to himself. Seungri felt rage washes over him and his stomach churned. "Do I ever know what is fucking happening?"

"Seungri."

"Do I want to know? Will someone tell me what the fuck is happening?"

"Seungri," Youngbae walks closer until he can touch Seungri's shoulder, which by now, shaking badly. "I'm so sorry."

"Why?" Seungri's eyes are crystal of tears and his voice are shattered glass that when he speaks, it cuts through Youngbae's skin. "Why is it happening to me?"

There's only void sound for a while until Seungri speaks again.

"I'm sorry, hyung," he looks at the mirror, the reflection of himself he can't recognize anymore. "It hurts too much."

***

"So hyung," Daesung whispers because Seunghyun is snoring already. "Seems like things are great?"

Jiyong doesn't dare to break another heart of his friend. "Yeah."

"What yeah?"

"I hope it's great, Daesung."

"Oh," just like that, Daesung's eyes lost its light. "Did Seungri..."

"No," Jiyong shakes his head. "It's not him, it's me."

"For years I've learned that it's both of you or neither," Daesung shrugs. "I'll talk to him, okay?"

"I'd do the same thing if I were him," Jiyong offers him a smile. "In fact, I already done the same four years ago."

"And this is repeating history?"

"This time," Jiyong glances to the closed door, wondering what's happening to Youngbae and Seungri. "It's different."

"What's the difference, hyung?"

Jiyong closes his eyes and the image of Seungri dances behind his eyelids. "This time, I know exactly what's going to happen. This time, I know exactly where to find him...This time as I let go, I'll watch until I can't watch him anymore."

Daesung looks like he's troubled in finding words. "Seungri...loves you."

"I know," Jiyong nods. "And I love him too."

***

Love is stupid.

So are you.

So am I.

But fate is smarter if not stronger.

***

"Take Jiyong–hyung back to his hotel," it's almost a command, which is unusual coming from Daesung.

Seunghyun, drowsy from quick sleep, gazes back and forth between the two maknaes. "Did you two fight or something?"

"Something," Youngbae shoves him to the backseat. Seunghyun's manager nods in gratitude for saving him the trouble. "I'll go back home tomorrow night."

"Thanks for coming, hyung. Good luck and be careful, okay?" Daesung hugs him as Seunghyun rolls the window down.

"Are you guys keeping secret from me?"

Youngbae has to sigh to resign himself from sneering.

Daesung slips smoothly beside Seunghyun and waves them goodbye with the oldest man still trying to grasp on the situation. Youngbae shakes his head and smiles but eventually realizes the unsinkable wall between Jiyong and Seungri. "Take care, okay?"

Seungri nods. "Be careful, hyung."

"You don't have to," Jiyong tells Seungri as soon as Youngbae's car disappears in the night, who's been quietly staring at the pavements. "I'll ask my manager to pick me up."

"I want to."

***

When your heart stops, you die. You become part of someone's past; sometimes a story, sometimes a forgotten part.

When your heart goes missing, you suffer a heartbeat. Everyday becomes another day of not having it back, of keeping it out from memories, of cradling the lost between your hands like a secret.

***

"What time is your flight tomorrow?"

It's starting to rain.

"Seven," Jiyong turns his face so that he doesn't have to see Seungri. Or read his face. Or wanting to say more than he should.

"Business trip?" Seungri's car turns right and Jiyong can make out the line of tall buildings that happen to be his hotel.

"Just a trip."

It's a silence then and outside, is a downpour.

"I hope it's not because you're running away from me," Seungri forces out a laugh that fool neither of them and his car comes to a stop.

"I'm not," Jiyong reaches to touch his hand that's gripping tight on the steering wheel. I'm running away from myself, if possible.

"I'm sorry," it's the soft wrecked tone that breaks Jiyong's resolution. It's the thickness of fears, of tears that drives him blank.

The next thing he knows is that Seungri still smell of flowers and cherry, his fingers are as smooth as he remembers and his lips are trying to fill all the empty pieces that's gone missing from Jiyong's life. He pulls back immediately and Seungri's eyes are half–closed, his breath creates cloud under the slowly decreasing temperature.

"No," Jiyong tries to swallow but he's thirsty, the bitterness settles in his throat like swords. "I am so sorry."

Seungri trembles in his hold. His palms, still bracketing the younger's face, slide to Seungri's shoulder. "I love you, hyung. I always have. I only want to save –we can't...I just –"

"I love you too," Jiyong takes a deep breath for them both. "I always will."

Then he runs out to the pouring rain and separation.

***