Chapter Text
2014
"There's nothing more I could want than spending my time with you," Seunghyun murmured, nuzzling into the warm crook of Jiyong's neck.
They were lying on the couch, limbs tangled, too close to call it casual but too used to it to notice. The glow of the city lights flickered through the window, but their world was small tonight, just the steady rhythm of breath, skin, and familiarity.
They'd been together since 11th grade, and somehow, almost a decade later, they were still here. Not just lovers but partners in music, in ambition, in survival. Alongside their brothers, Daesung and Taeyang, they were making history. Rising stars, on magazine covers, screens, stages, and fan hearts. Everything they'd dreamed of.
Jiyong tilted his head lazily to the side, exposing more of his neck. An open invitation.
Seunghyun pressed soft, unhurried kisses along the skin, breathing him in like something sacred. Jiyong's fingers slipped into his hair, curling there gently.
"You're always saying shit like that," Jiyong spoke, but his voice was breathy.
"I mean it." Another kiss. "Every word."
Jiyong lets out a small, annoyed laugh. Short. Breath through the nose.
Seunghyun pulls back slightly, furrowing his brows.
"What?"
Jiyong doesn't answer. His eyes drift toward the floor, lips pressed together. Not pouting, just closed.
"Jiyong?" Seunghyun's voice sharpens as he sits up, the warmth of the moment bleeding out fast. "What is it?"
Still nothing. That silence he hated, the kind that wasn't shy or unsure, but heavy. Loud.
"Don't do this," he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. "If I did something, tell me. Don't just shut down like this."
"You fucked him, didn't you?"
Seunghyun froze, blinking like he didn't hear right.
"Wha—?"
"Yes or no."
"No!" The word came out too fast. Too defensive. His eyes widened as he stared at Jiyong, stunned. "Jiyong, what the hell—"
"So what," Jiyong cut in, voice low, bitter, "he just blew you?"
"What are you on about?" Seunghyun sat all the way up now, running a hand through his hair like he could shake the accusation off. "Where the fuck is this coming from?"
"Where is this coming from?" Jiyong repeated, voice rising. "Uh, maybe because I know you cheated on me?"
Ah, fuck.
Seunghyun felt his stomach drop, like the ground just tilted under him.
Confess? Deny?
"I seriously don't know what you're talking about," he said, tone strained but steady.
Deny, of course.
Jiyong's eyes widened in disbelief, like he was watching a car crash in slow motion — and it was his own. "Don't gaslight me, Seunghyun."
"I'm not—"
"You are," Jiyong snapped, His voice cracked now, shaking with fury and heartbreak. "I saw it. With my own fucking EYES."
Seunghyun reached out, gently patting Jiyong's leg like he could soothe it all away. "Baby," he said, soft. Too soft. "We both had a lot to drink that night. Maybe you got confused?"
Jiyong jerked back like he'd been slapped. Swatted Seunghyun's hand away like it burned.
"You're unbelievable," he spat, standing up so fast the blanket they'd been under slid to the floor. "You actually think I'm that stupid?"
"No, that's not what I—"
"Don't," Jiyong cut in, pointing at him with a trembling finger. "Don't say another word if it's gonna be another lie."
Seunghyun's mouth opened, but nothing came out.
He couldn't even defend himself without sounding like a coward. Because he was a coward. Because somewhere, deep down, he knew Jiyong had really seen it. Seen him. And he hated himself for it.
In their nine-year relationship, they barely ever fought.
Sure, there were little things, a missed call, a forgotten anniversary, Jiyong getting moody after a long rehearsal. But never like this. Never raised voices, never silence filled with knives. They were the dream couple, even if no one could know it. Even if they had to hide every kiss behind locked doors and tinted van windows.
They had known each other since middle school. Best friends before they were lovers. Their whole adult lives, side by side, on stages, in hotel rooms, backstage in the dark holding hands when no one was looking.
And that's what made this hurt in a way Jiyong couldn't even begin to process.
Because Seunghyun cheating wasn't just betrayal. It was out of character.
"Why didn't you say something earlier?" Seunghyun asked, his voice low, not angry now, just confused. "Why leave it for three days? And act like nothing happened?"
Jiyong didn't respond.
Seunghyun shook his head, frustrated. "Why let me kiss you literally five minutes ago?"
Jiyong finally looked at him, eyes glassy but holding back. He didn't cry easily. He didn't want to give Seunghyun that power.
"Because it's hard," he said, his voice barely audible. "I don't want to break up. But you're not you. I don't understand what happened."
Silence stretched out between them, dense, suffocating.
"I've been trying to pretend," Jiyong continued, fingers twisting in the hem of his sweatshirt. "Trying to hold onto the version of you I knew. But lately, I don't know who I'm sleeping next to."
"I'm sorry, okay? I should've been honest." Seunghyun's voice cracked, eyes wide, almost panicked now.
"You should've just not done it!" Jiyong snapped, throwing his arms out. His voice echoed through the room like a slap.
"It was an accident, I swear—"
"Yeah, sure." Jiyong rolled his eyes, bitter and disgusted.
"I swear, Jiyong." Seunghyun stepped forward, pleading. "I was so drunk I could barely see."
Jiyong turned away, hands on his hips, jaw tight. He didn't want to hear this. He didn't want to hear any of it.
"I thought it was you," Seunghyun continued, his voice breaking. "I'm serious, Ji. I was so fucked up, I thought it was you. So I kissed him and—and once he told me he wasn't, I stopped."
Jiyong let out a hollow, disbelieving laugh. "What a fucking insult," he muttered. "You're telling me I'm so interchangeable that someone else could pass for me in your arms?"
"That's not what I meant," Seunghyun said quickly, stepping closer. "I didn't even know what was happening until—until it was already—"
"Stop." Jiyong's voice came out flat. He turned to face him again, and his eyes were glassy now, but his jaw was clenched hard. "You could've come to me. You could've told me the next day. You could've... done anything but this."
"I didn't want to lose you."
"Well, guess what." Jiyong laughed again, quieter this time. Sadder. "You did."
What sucked the most was that Seunghyun was telling the truth.
He had mistaken the guy for Jiyong.
Similar jacket. Same hair. Sitting in the exact same spot Jiyong had been just moments before. Seunghyun had stumbled out from the party, drunk off his face.
He'd sat beside him. Mumbled some slurred nonsense. And kissed him.
It lasted maybe five seconds?
But that was long enough.
Long enough to realize it wasn't Jiyong. Long enough for the guy to pull back, confused. Long enough for Seunghyun's stomach to drop and his heart to stop beating.
He stopped it. He didn't go further. He didn't even remember the guy's name.
But he fucked up.
Big time.
"You don't think I'm actually stupid enough to believe you, right?" Jiyong's voice was sharp, brittle. His hands were clenched at his sides, but his whole body was shaking now — with rage, heartbreak, maybe both.
"I swear, Jiyong. I love you," Seunghyun pleaded, stepping forward like it might help. "It was an accident."
"You're a cheater."
"I'm not," he snapped, suddenly firm, like saying it harder would make it more true. "It wasn't intentional."
"Oh, so that makes it okay?" Jiyong laughed, but it was empty. Hollow. "Did you feel him up too? Whisper sweet things to him like you do to me?"
"No, Ji! I kissed him for less than ten seconds—"
"Ten seconds too long," Jiyong cut in, his voice cracking. "You don't get to decide what counts as betrayal."
Seunghyun swallowed hard, guilt crawling up his throat like bile. "I didn't even know what I was doing, I thought—"
"You thought it was me," Jiyong finished, eyes locked on his. "Yeah. I heard that part. Do you know how insane that sounds?"
Seunghyun didn't answer.
Because yeah — it was insane. It was pathetic. And he hated himself for it.
"It's the truth," Seunghyun said, voice low. Almost a whisper now. There was no fight left in him — just desperation. Regret.
Jiyong looked at him, really looked at him. And for a moment, Seunghyun saw the boy he fell in love with all those years ago — and the man standing in front of him now, shattered by the person Seunghyun had become.
"If I wasn't enough for you," Jiyong said quietly, "I wish you would've just told me."
That broke him.
Seunghyun took a step forward, but Jiyong stepped back — just once. Not dramatically. Just enough to say don't.
"You were always enough," Seunghyun said. "You were everything."
But it didn't matter.
"How can I fix this, Ji?" Seunghyun's voice broke as he stepped forward, eyes wide and glassy. "How can I prove it to you?"
Jiyong didn't answer right away.
He stared at the floor like it had something important to say. Like if he looked up, he'd fall apart completely.
"I don't think you can," he said quietly. "I've been trying to forget it — to push it out of my head. But all I can think about is seeing you with him. Your hand on his cheek..."
His throat tightened.
"Kissing him. With tongue. Like you meant it."
He winced at his own words, like saying them out loud made it more real. "It makes me sick."
Seunghyun took a shaky breath, arms hanging useless at his sides. "It wasn't like that."
"It doesn't matter how it was," Jiyong said, finally lifting his head. "You still did it."
Silence again — sharp, cold, endless.
"You broke something in me," Jiyong whispered. "And I don't know if it can be fixed."
"Nine years, Jiyong." Seunghyun looked at him like he couldn't believe this was happening. "You want to end everything because I made a mistake?"
"It was a pretty fucking big mistake."
Silence.
The kind that didn't feel like a pause — it felt like a wall going up between them.
"So now what?" Seunghyun asked, finally breaking it, his voice raw.
Jiyong's lips parted, like it hurt to say it. "I'm... going to grab my things and go back to my parents' house."
He took a deep breath, eyes beginning to water, and turned to walk to the bedroom — the one they shared, the one filled with years of laughter and whispered promises.
"Wait," Seunghyun said, grabbing his wrist. His grip was gentle, but his voice was desperate. "Just stop. Please think about it."
"I have," Jiyong said without looking at him. "For three days."
He pulled his wrist free.
"And not once did you think to tell me. Instead, you gaslit me into thinking I was too drunk."
Seunghyun stood there, frozen, guilt flooding him like cold water.
He had no defense left. No more excuses. No more soft words to hide behind.
Jiyong walked down the hall without another word, the soft pad of his footsteps louder than any door slam.
Seunghyun didn't follow.
Because he knew — really knew — this time, Jiyong wouldn't turn back.
-
Two Weeks Later
Big Bang had officially disbanded.
The announcement was framed as mutual, respectful, amicable. They'd all agreed to go solo, to explore new paths, to maybe reunite someday for "special projects" or "fan service" if the stars aligned.
But behind the polished statements and cheerful emojis was a silence that roared.
Seunghyun was crumbling.
Every night ended the same: a bottle or two of wine, maybe three if he needed to forget the shape of Jiyong's mouth. He'd crawl into the bed that still smelled like him; citrus shampoo and faint smoke. He'd scroll through years of photos on his phone.
Vacations. Award shows. Selfies backstage with wide grins and matching eye makeup. Unreleased polaroids of them curled up on the couch, half-dressed, half-asleep, happy.
The ache wasn't sharp anymore. It was dull. Constant. Heavy like a brick in his chest. Not just heartbreak, grief.
He didn't just lose his boyfriend. He lost the person who knew him better than anyone else. The person who could read his silence. The only one who could calm him down when his panic got too loud. His partner in music. His partner in life.
Now, the apartment was too quiet. Too clean. Too wrong.
And no matter how much wine he drank, nothing could fill that silence.
He hadn't seen Jiyong since that night.
The only contact had been through a cold, impersonal email from management.
It didn't even have Jiyong's name signed at the bottom, just a damn company logo.
That was the last thread between them. Work. Business. A shared legacy they were now quietly disassembling, piece by piece.
It was hell.
Seunghyun had never felt lonelier. Not even in the early trainee days, not even during scandals and public smear campaigns. This was different.
This was the kind of loneliness that crept in even when the room was full. The kind that echoed in your bones. That sat with you while you drank, that crawled under your skin when the sun rose and you were still awake, unshowered, surrounded by wine bottles and silence.
No texts. No late-night voice memos. No photos of Jiyong's cat wearing stupid outfits. No new demos. No Jiyongie.
It had only been two weeks.
But it already felt like he'd lost him forever.
His wine collection quickly vanished, bottle by bottle, night by night.
At first, he'd been drinking slowly, trying to savor, trying to feel something. But lately, he just wanted to forget. Wine wasn't cutting it anymore.
He needed something stronger.
There was a club not too far from his place, tucked between a run-down convenience store and a closed nail salon. It wasn't the kind of place he ever used to go. Not even back in the early days when he'd sneak out after curfew.
Club pentagon.
But it was in walking distance. And right now, that was all that mattered.
Seunghyun pulled on whatever shoes were by the door. No jacket, no thought. Just an aching need to go somewhere else. To be somewhere that didn't smell like Jiyong's cologne. To hear voices that didn't sound like his memory.
He walked out without locking the door.
The air outside was cold and damp, but he barely noticed. Streetlights flickered. The city kept moving, indifferent.
It had only been fifteen minutes since he'd decided to leave the apartment.
But something was already shifting in his chest, a numbness settling where grief had been living.
He was just trying to survive.
-
He was gone.
Ridiculously drunk. Barely aware of how many shots he'd taken or what song was playing in the background.
Somehow, he'd started talking to a stranger at the bar. Some guy with mid length black hair and didn't ask too many questions, just nodded, drank, and listened.
"I can't believe it, man..." Seunghyun slurred, propping his elbow on the sticky counter. "Daesung just told me Jiyong packed his stuff and is living up in Paju now."
"Damn," the guy said, raising an eyebrow. "Up near the DMZ?"
Seunghyun gave a sloppy nod. "That's country out there."
"That's cold out there."
"I know, right?" He groaned, dropping his head into his hands. "I don't see why he'd go there. It's freezing, isolated. Like, who just disappears to the mountains like that?"
He let out a bitter laugh that turned into a hiccup.
"I guess he's really gone now."
The guy was quiet for a second. Then he tipped his glass in Seunghyun's direction. "Sometimes people run to places that match how they feel."
Seunghyun looked up blearily. The guy's face was soft in the low bar light — not familiar, but not unfriendly either.
"He's the one that got away," Seunghyun mumbled, taking a long sip of his drink. It burned less now. Or maybe he was just too far gone to care. "He was perfect, you know?"
"Sounds like it," the guy said, swirling the ice in his glass. "But hey, maybe it wasn't meant to be? Maybe it was a cop out because he wanted to end things."
"Aish..." Seunghyun sat up, frowning. "Don't say shit like that, man."
"My bad." The stranger raised his hands, palms out. "It hurts a lot. I'm sure."
"A fuck ton," Seunghyun muttered.
The guy watched him for a second. "Wanna take the edge off?"
Seunghyun turned his head lazily, squinting. "Like what?"
The guy leaned in closer, voice low and smooth. "Ever tried coke?"
Seunghyun rolled his eyes. "Obviously."
The guy laughed, a small, dry sound. "Okay, okay. How about something heavier?"
"How heavy we talking?" Seunghyun asked, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "I'm not putting no needle in my arm or anything."
"That's fine," the guy said with a shrug. "We can just smoke it."
That made Seunghyun pause. He blinked. "As in, like... meth? Or heroin?"
The guy shrugged again, casual. "Whichever."
Seunghyun stared at him, wide-eyed. He should've gotten up. He should've walked out right then.
But instead... he looked down at his glass, swirling the last mouthful of liquor.
And all he said was: "I don't wanna feel like this anymore."
"You're talking to the right person, then," the stranger smiled. Cool, calm, like this was just another Tuesday night.
He waved two fingers toward the back of the bar. "Follow me."
Seunghyun hesitated for half a breath, then slid off the stool. His legs felt heavy, his head heavier. He told himself he was just going to look. Just to see. Just to feel anything that wasn't this gnawing ache.
They slipped into the single-stall bathroom, locking the door behind them with a sharp metallic click.
It smelled like cheap soap and bleach. The mirror was cracked. The fluorescent light flickered. This wasn't how nights were supposed to go for someone like him. But then again... who the fuck was he anymore?
Seunghyun leaned back against the sink, hands gripping the edges as he watched the stranger unzip his small crossbody bag. Quick, practiced fingers pulled out a few plastic zip loc bags, neat little rectangles of escape.
He shouldn't be doing this.
I shouldn't be doing this,
Seunghyun thought.
What am I doing?
The stranger looked up and grinned, holding out a bag like it was candy.
"So, you seem like a pretty cool guy," he said, pointing lazily at Seunghyun. "So you don't gotta pay me or anything this time."
He patted Seunghyun's shoulder.
Just like that. Friendly. Easy.
Seunghyun swallowed hard.
His reflection stared back at him in the cracked mirror, eyes bloodshot, lips dry, face hollowed by nights without sleep.
And still, he stayed.
"So what you wanna do?" the guy asked, casual like they were picking a dessert off a menu. "Snort, smoke, swallow, inject?"
Seunghyun hesitated, biting his bottom lip. His hands were clammy. His heart was pounding not from excitement, but something darker. Fear. Regret. Awareness.
"I-I don't know," he stammered. "Nothing too crazy..."
His eyes flicked up past the stranger, past the sink to the glowing green EXIT sign above the door.
It felt like it was calling to him. Like it knew who he really was beneath the grief and guilt and decay.
You can still leave.
You can still turn around.
You haven't done it yet.
But then the stranger unzipped one of the bags and pulled out a tiny glass pipe. Efficient. Relaxed. He struck a lighter with a soft flick and held it to the bottom of the bowl like it was just a part of his routine.
"No pressure," he said, grinning. "But this'll take the edge off. I promise."
The flame danced.
And Seunghyun was grieving, drunk, drowning in the loss of the only person who ever truly knew him, looked one more time at the exit sign.
Then he looked away.
"Okay," he whispered. "Just a little bit"
The stranger passed him the glass pipe. The bottom was discolored, cloudy white and charred brown from too many hits. Too much history.
Seunghyun hesitated.
"I don't have cooties," the guy said, smiling lazily, still holding it out.
"Okay," Seunghyun muttered, swallowing hard. "What is it?"
"Just try it," the guy said, already pulling out the lighter. "It won't kill you. I just had some."
He laughed, like this was funny. Like this was nothing.
"I'll hold the lighter. You just inhale, okay?"
Seunghyun nodded slowly and brought the pipe to his lips.
Jiyong would kill me if he knew what I was about to do.
But that was the point, wasn't it?
It's time to stop thinking about him.
"You can back out if you really want," the stranger said, thumb resting on the lighter wheel.
Seunghyun looked at the glowing green EXIT sign again.
Then, back at the pipe.
"Nah," he said quietly. "Ready."
The lighter flared.
The crystals bubbled and melted in the bowl, releasing a sharp, acrid chemical smell that clung to the air like guilt.
Seunghyun inhaled deeply, smoothly. Years of cigarette training paying off. The taste was awful, bitter and plastic. He let out a small cough, eyes watering just slightly.
The stranger grinned and grabbed his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "See? Not too bad, huh?"
"Yeah..." Seunghyun exhaled, staring at the cracked mirror. "Not bad at all."
He felt it starting, that lift, that softness behind his eyes. The edges of his grief rounding off.
He turned to the guy beside him.
"What was your name? Sorry, I forgot to ask earlier."
The stranger smiled, unfazed.
"Namgyu."