Work Text:
Dirt settles under Kwon Jiyong’s fingernails.
Things have rarely ever been better than this. After so many years apart, being back in the studio with Daesung and Taeyang has been an experience Jiyong never let himself dream of after everything that’s come between them. They’d been through scandal after scandal, and persevered past things that would have broken any lesser man.
Jiyong remembers the words Seunghyun had uttered to them almost ten years ago now, uttered over the banister of the cabin they’d stayed at for some reality tv show Jiyong can barely remember. The circumstances are hazy, but Seunghyun’s words have never left his mind.
“It’s a shame, the pain we must endure to mature.”
And in every road bump in Jiyong’s life, Seunghyun had been there. He’d been the ever-constant hand on his shoulder, the reassurement on their worst days. Though people often assumed that Seunghyun was inherently standoffish due to his angular figure and stern brows, he had the most delicate heart of them all.
Seunghyun had been there until he hadn’t, slipping through all of their fingers before Jiyong realized he should’ve taken action while he still could. Jiyong cannot blame Choi Seunghyun for wanting to walk away from the life that they’d built together as a group, but that doesn’t stop Jiyong from waiting for his light quips at every turn and missing his warmth.
In any other circumstance, Jiyong would’ve sought to discuss it with his members, but it feels wrong to speak of Seunghyun with the others without Seunghyun there. It’s almost a reminder that his departure is real.
It’s too painful to talk about. Losing Seungri had been one thing, but the pain from that had faded the moment the terrible truth of his past had pieced itself together. Someone like that never deserved a place within the sanctuary they’d created, and Jiyong had been ready to dust his hands of him from the moment it’d become clear that he’d walked down a path that would be the end of him.
It’s easy to hate Seungri for ruining BIGBANG’s name, and even easier to be amused by his desperate clinging to his last scraps of fame. Seungri’s pathetic, and he’s long been nothing but a cockroach. There’s nothing that would make Kwon Jiyong ever include Seungri in BIGBANG again.
Choi Seunghyun is different. He’s always been different. Even when they were nothing but two idiot kids who knew nothing about the world playing around the neighbourhood, Jiyong had known Seunghyun was different from anyone else.
And when they’d met once again, this time with Seunghyun as an underground rapper and Jiyong enthused to meet someone with the same passion as him, Jiyong had jumped at the chance to rekindle that friendship and bring Seunghyun into his world.
Sometimes, Jiyong wonders where G-Dragon starts and where Kwon Jiyong ends. Was it Jiyong’s desire to make a friend that compelled him to ask Seunghyun to join YG with him all those years ago, or was it G-Dragon’s first foray into fame that dragged Seunghyun into this world with him?
Would Seunghyun have been happier without this? Would he have gone through so much if Jiyong hadn’t dragged Seunghyun down with him? Is Jiyong to blame?
They’ve all silently decided that it’s frankly better not to talk about the fog that shrouds their every waking moment, or at least Jiyong has. Better he direct his blame inwards than speaking his truth out loud and realize the only person he ever would’ve spoken to like this has chosen to separate himself from everything they once stood for.
Kwon Jiyong never dreamed that BIGBANG would make it for as long as it had. It hadn’t just been a passing sensation, they’d changed the very framework of K-Pop as it had been known. BIGBANG had meant something in a way that no other project he could piece together would. Even on their hiatus, he’d put pen to paper and written countless songs for the reunion that would be.
But beyond the popularity, there had been the heart of BIGBANG. BIGBANG had been Jiyong’s life. Though his solo career would always be important to him, nothing would match the feeling of being on stage with his closest friends and reaching the top of the world together. The beauty of music has always been sharing emotion for Jiyong. Whether it’s with his fans or the people he loves.
They’re in the studio together because of course they are. Jiyong missed being in the studio with his brothers and simply creating together. It’s been so long since he’s had people to bounce ideas off of. His team is his muse. He always feels as though he’s a better musician when he’s working for BIGBANG.
It’s a quiet lull as Jiyong edits their parts late into the night, attempting to see if anything will need to be rerecorded tomorrow. Though they’ve all taken breaks for their own reasons, Daesung and Taeyang’s vocals never falter. Every time they end up on stage together, it’s as though they never left.
“You don’t have to be here for this,” Jiyong mutters under his breath as Daesung and Youngbae goof off on the couch. “I’m just putting the finishing touches on this.”
“Yah, you think we don’t know that?” Daesung scolds Jiyong. “Is having company so bad? Don’t tell me you’ve become a complete loner while we’ve been apart.”
“I don’t want to keep you longer than you have to,” Jiyong sighs as he relistens to the backing track. “Hyo Rin will have my head, you know.”
“Do you really think I didn’t tell her?” Youngbae rolls his eyes. “I already texted her, and she told me to stay as long as I like. It’s not every day BIGBANG prepares for their return.”
“I’m preparing for our return,” Jiyong’s smile is sarcastic and thin. “You both are being a nuisance.”
“Don’t lie,” Jiyong doesn’t know at what point Daesung became so comfortable with questioning his authority over the years, but Daesung manages to balance respect and an unimpressed deadpan masterfully. “You missed this.”
And Jiyong really had. Things have changed since then, but it’s a struggle to not see what has remained exactly the same. Though Youngbae and Daesung have ultimately grown much closer after the military - something they’d later admitted they’d done after seeing how dejected Seunghyun had appeared after Jiyong had left for the military - they still have the same youthful smiles and crinkled eyes when speaking with one another.
It’s the joy of brotherhood - a joy that Jiyong had once feared he’d never get to have with BIGBANG again.
Daesung’s teasing expression smooths into a softer one upon reading Jiyong’s expression. They all used to tease Jiyong relentlessly for wearing his heart on his sleeve - just another thing that hasn’t changed. “Ah, Jiyong, you’re such a softie.”
“I’m not,” Jiyong insists in a way that doesn’t come across as petulant. “I guess I’m just happy.”
But Youngbae doesn’t let him slide past the intricacies written on his face. “It’s weird, isn’t it? Without him.”
Daesung’s face shutters somewhat as he absorbs Youngbae’s words. There’s really only one person he could be.
“It’s too quiet,” Jiyong says eventually.
“We’ve been too productive, haven’t we?” Youngbae smiles despite himself.
They have. Most people would speak praises of their oldest members, how they’d keep them on track and ensure they never went off course, but Seunghyun had brought life into every room he’d entered. His warmth had brought joy into everything he touched, and he’d always lifted the mood in a way few else could. He truly had been their warm and beating heart, open and ripe for the taking, and none of them had noticed until it’d been far too late.
Seunghyun did more than simply keep them in line - he brought so much joy to their work.
“I know he wants this, but it’s awful,” Daesung just sighs. “I don’t want to treat him like a dirty word. He was BIGBANG.”
“He has his reasons for leaving,” Youngbae reminds gently, and how could any of them forget? Seunghyun had been torn apart by so-called fans and media outlets, and there’d been nothing they could do to stop it except watch Seunghyun’s slow decline before their very eyes.
It’s an awful truth, but it’s their truth. Now years have passed and they’re different people. Seunghyun’s on his own track, separating himself from BIGBANG and forging his own identity, while the rest of them come together and try to pick up the pieces from what is left.
Jiyong wishes he could say he didn’t google Seunghyun regularly to try to find out about the other man’s well being, but he does. He’s seen every step Choi Seunghyun has taken to reforge himself, and Jiyong is happy for him. He sees Seunghyun’s current move back into acting for what it is - a new beginning for him in a world intrinsically tied to his past.
“I keep going over what we should include for the MAMA stage,” Jiyong says finally, vocalizing his frustration.
Youngbae blinks carefully, sucking in a breath as he pieces together Jiyong’s dilemma. “Do you want to leave both of them out?”
“Seunghyun-hyung too?” Daesung’s eyes are suddenly alert as he glances between them. “But that’s- he’s-”
Jiyong knows what Daesung’s thinking. He knows that Daesung still introduces Seunghyun as a part of BIGBANG, albeit as a former member. He knows that Daesung will likely forever hold the hope that Seunghyun will come back to them no matter what. But Jiyong is scared of something else entirely.
“Would he hate me more if I included it?” Jiyong sighs out eventually.
Youngbae’s eyes widen, taken aback as Jiyong recollects the words that had just left his mouth. Shit, Jiyong hadn’t meant to say that much. Youngbae’s expression sterns as he finally looks up at Jiyong, jaw set sternly. “Is that really what you’ve been thinking all this time?”
“Isn’t it my fault?” Jiyong groans out eventually from behind gritted teeth. “At least a little bit? If I’d done more, he would’ve-”
“We all could’ve done more then,” Youngbae’s voice is clinically detached, something that Jiyong has come to observe as a protective mechanism so his own emotions don’t cloud his words. “But now, it was his decision to leave.”
“I don’t want to hold him back,” Jiyong admits. “Not if he wants to be free of us.”
“Look, he’s…” Daesung pauses, trying to choose his words wisely. “Just because he wants to take time for himself now doesn’t mean he’ll want to forever.”
“But won’t he want to run even further if he carve out a space for him in our performance?” Jiyong insists, his fears not quite squashed. “He doesn’t want this.”
“You have hundreds of unreleased songs, all of which would have sufficed for a return comeback,” Youngbae says eventually. “I think even if you don’t want to admit it, none of us wanted to let him walk away on the message that he had no path to return.”
Jiyong pauses, caught in Youngbae’s silent deduction. He’s right, because of course Youngbae is right. Jiyong hadn’t wanted to let Seunghyun go, he still doesn’t. Jiyong would do anything to carve out an avenue and leave a path open for Seunghyun’s return, but what good will forever holding a torch for Seunghyun do if Seunghyun will reject it at every turn? Isn’t this just the same thing Jiyong has always done? Isn’t he just being selfish again?
“I brought him into this world,” Jiyong utters carefully. “I told him to come to YG with me. This world isn’t much better than it was back then. Is it even right for me to open our arms for his return when history could very well repeat itself?”
“Jiyong, you were both children then,” Youngbae says quietly. “Will you beat yourself up over this for the rest of your life?”
“It’s not about blame,” Jiyong interrupts, hoping to justify himself. “I failed him once. I don’t want to fail him again, especially when I don’t know if I can offer him a better outcome if he returns to us.”
What’s to stop the vultures of the Korean media from sinking their jaws into them again? Jiyong has already seen all the backlash Seunghyun’s faced for simply being associated with the new drama he’s acting in. All that backlash and more would be worth enduring for Seunghyun’s sake, even if it were to negatively affect BIGBANG, but Jiyong cannot ask Seunghyun to endure such a fate a second time for Jiyong’s own selfishness.
“Then let him decide,” Daesung says gently, a fond smile on his face after a distant recollection. “You know what he’s like. He’d resent you for taking all the credit for his hard work to get where he got, and that includes lending him a stepping stone in the right direction all those years ago.”
Jiyong smiles wryly at the memory. Daesung couldn’t be more right. Seunghyun had always been a trailblazer of his own path, and independent in every way he could be. He would afford Jiyong no flowers for reappropriating his successes and failures to himself rather than giving Seunghyun credit.
“All we can do is open a door,” Youngbae finally says, seeming to sense the effect Daesung’s words had. “It’s his choice to walk through it.”
“You’re right,” Jiyong sighs, frown creasing his face. “It really wouldn’t be the same without his voice anyways.”
Daesung’s smile illuminates his face brightly. “Could you even imagine it without him?”
And that’s the truth of it, because Jiyong can’t. No matter how many times Jiyong had tried to cut Seunghyun’s ad-libs and one liners, he’d never quite been able to hit the delete button. BIGBANG's legacy was simply nonexistent without the memory of Seunghyun.
Daesung’s sentiment brings Jiyong’s mind back to a different time though, and he can’t help but laugh to himself at the memory.
“What?” Youngbae asks suspiciously.
“Do you remember when we promoted Zutter on Inkigayo?” Jiyong can’t help the smile that pulls itself to his lips. “We were both drunk.”
Jiyong can see the very moment Daesung recalls that performance. “Oh, when Seunghyun-hyung messed up the choreo? We won song of the week then, right?”
All of them had teased Seunghyun about it for ages, especially since he’d simply been too absorbed while dancing to remember a part of their choreo and Jiyong had been forced to improvise. Jiyong hadn’t been able to hold back his laughter witnessing Seunghyun’s on stage performance, doing his best to choke out the lyrics while rapping to the best of his ability.
“Yeah,” Youngbae eyes Jiyong with a sneaking suspicion in his eyes. “I kept asking you guys why you were so weird after, but you both kept refusing to tell us.”
“We won for ‘Let’s Not Fall in Love’,” Jiyong can’t help the laughter that resurfaces. “And after we won, everyone else walked off the stage. The music cued, and they all kept staring at us.”
Daesung’s eyes widen in pure elation as he seems to realize exactly what they’d hidden from the rest of their members all these years. “They didn’t.”
“We were so drunk,” Jiyong barely stifles a giggle. “And Seunghyun-hyung just started singing.”
“No, no,” Youngbae groans with what could’ve been, suddenly realizing exactly how much blackmail material he’s missed out on. “How have I not seen this? It was on Inkigayo!”
“We had to do the full song,” Jiyong can’t stop laughing. “He was never a bad singer, but he was so drunk.”
Daesung lets out a delighted snicker. “I can just imagine you both back then, baby faces and all, looking like deer caught in headlights.”
“Please tell me there’s a recording,” Youngbae cries into his palms, unbidden in his frustration.
“Not a single one,” Jiyong smirks with a knowing grin.
Youngbae lets out an aborted groan of distress as Jiyong laughs to himself.
“We both stumbled off the stage after and Seunghyun-hyung just-” Jiyong turns to Daesung and grips his shoulders firmly, leaning his entire weight on the younger man in a replica of what was once done to him, “he fell into me, and he made me swear that I’d never let the two of you leave for as long as I live.”
Daesung laughs heartily, seeming to put the pieces together. “Did he do that face? The one where he-”
Seunghyun’s eyebrows somehow get even more expressive after he drinks, enough so that his face is practically an abstract painting flexible beyond comprehension. They used to ask Seunghyun to do it on command when he was sober, but he never quite managed it the same way as when he was under the influence.
“Yeah,” Jiyong confirms, face aching from the sharp upturn of his smile. “He did the eyebrow thing. He looked like a mob boss from a K-Drama, all grumpy-like with the long coat.”
Youngbae mutters expletives under his breath, still lighthearted in nature even though his words are harsh. “That asshole, of course he’d say something like that and up and leave.”
Even such a blatant reminder of their reality can’t quite shatter the warmth that their past memories have brought Jiyong.
“That’s just what he was like,” Jiyong smiles.
“What, hypocritical?” Youngbae rolls his eyes.
“No, insufferable,” Daesung contemplates fondly.
“He’s never going to come back at this rate,” Jiyong mutters.
“If he comes back thinking we’re going to sing his praises the entire time, he’s really lost it,” Youngbae smiles distantly. “It’s impossible to go back to strangers again after something like that, isn’t it?”
Jiyong doesn’t need to ask for elaboration about what ‘something like that’ is because they’d gone through everything together. Their greatest successes were team victories, and their biggest losses were a hit for them all. How can you go from being family to being nothing at all? The answer for Jiyong is ultimately that he can’t bear such a thing. However, Jiyong is well aware that that isn’t a mindset shared by all.
“He’s doing a good job of trying,” there’s an edge to Jiyong’s voice that’s more bitter than he intended it.
Daesung smacks him on the arm lightly, but hard enough that Jiyong side eyes him. “Yah, what was that for?”
“Stop acting like this is the end,” Daesung frowns. “It’s not. We waited all these years to come back together, and you’re still acting like this is finite.”
“We’re not getting any younger, Daesung.”
“And you’ll age even faster if you think like that.”
“When did you get so wise?” Jiyong can’t help the slight smile that comes to his face at Daesung’s advice.
“When you weren’t looking, obviously,” Daesung teases.
“Respect his wishes, but leave an arm open for him,” Youngbae advises sagely. “He’s coming back to Korean media with his new drama promotion, right? Let him warm up to the industry.”
“You’ve been following him?” Jiyong eyes Youngbae carefully.
“Just because you want to pretend we all aren’t googling him every once in a while doesn’t mean I do,” Youngbae rolls his eyes. “Get over it.”
Jiyong doesn’t pout at being outed so easily.
“I know it sounds redundant, but have you tried just talking to him?” Daesung cracks his knuckles haphazardly.
“He only just unblocked me on Instagram a few months ago,” Jiyong presses his fingers to the side of his scalp. “I don’t want to tempt fate.”
“Jiyong-hyung, you’re not a fan,” Daesung stares unimpressed. “If you call, he’ll pick up.”
Jiyong winces at the implication. Though Daesung likely hadn’t intended to unearth such a wound, Jiyong’s heart chafes regardless. There’s no pain worse than reaching out and being shut down, so Jiyong has forced himself to stop trying.
“You disagree?” Youngbae squints, as if trying to see if Jiyong is really serious.
“Why don’t you do it if you’re so sure he’ll pick up?” Jiyong scowls.
Thankfully, Youngbae and Daesung have been by his side through too many ups and downs to turn cheek at one outburst. Youngbae simply raises a judgemental eyebrow and any resolve Jiyong had crumbles.
“Shut up,” Jiyong grumbles, already preparing himself for the oncoming lecture.
“Being scared isn’t a good look on you, G-Dragon,” Youngbae provokes.
Jiyong’s jaw drops at the provocation. “I’m not scared.”
“Oh yeah? Then call him.”
Jiyong simply stares at Youngbae, and unfortunately, Youngbae stares back just as boldly. Eventually, water comes to Jiyong’s eyes and he’s forced to blink. Youngbae snickers.
“Chicken,” Youngbae smirks.
“Fine,” Jiyong huffs. “Maybe I am. Whatever.”
“We have the right to use it on the stage,” Daesung reminds gently. “And those songs aren’t the same without his voice. We aren’t going to be able to use his image in any other promotional material, so why not use it while we still can?”
“So what, this is some ploy to lure him back? We keep his voice in and hope he returns?”
“Do you have a better idea?” Daesung asks openly.
Of course Daesung’s right. There’s no other outcome that’s better than this. This is the only way they can honor Seunghyun’s wishes and still offer him a place in their family, but his discomfort remains.
Jiyong opens up his phone and scrolls all the way down to click on his chat with Seunghyun. The last message sent had been Jiyong wishing Seunghyun the best of luck with a future project he’d been working on, and Seunghyun had said nothing more than a simple exchange of gratitude.
They hadn’t talked much since Seunghyun had announced that he wanted nothing to do with BIGBANG in the future, and any conversation they had was unreasonably awkward as if they were walking on eggshells around each other. Frankly, it hurts. For so much of Jiyong's life, Seunghyun likely would've been considered his closest friend. Now, it feels nearly impossible to go through the motions of being strangers again.
Jiyong can’t help but type a quick ‘I miss you’, deleting it just as fast as he’d written it after his better judgement kicks in. Jiyong's heart aches, and irritatedly, he places his phone face down on his desk again.
Damn this. Damn it all.
Jiyong scowls. “Fine, fine. We’ll do the latter half of ‘Bang Bang Bang’ then. I’ll cut out his rap and we’ll start from Daesung’s verse and leave in Seunghyun-hyung’s chorus ad libs - the chorus we shared is more memorable than the one I did alone anyways.”
“And ‘Fantastic Baby’?” Daesung asks, curiosity budding.
“We’ll do the end,” Jiyong suggests easily. “Maybe from the last chorus onward?”
Youngbae whistles to himself. “Fine by me.”
“I’ll finish editing the backing track tomorrow morning then so we can practice our stage framing,” Jiyong leans backward to stretch his arms, yawning. “We’ll end it here tonight, then.”
Thankfully, the other two seem plenty agreeable. A knot remains in Jiyong’s gut when he thinks about how everything unfolded, but he’ll have to endure. Of course he has to.
And if three phones illuminate with the same message in the moments after their MAMA stage, that’s no one’s business but their own.
Well, it’s no one’s business except for BIGBANG. No one will ever know the faint smiles that etched across their faces except for the three of them, or the way they exchanged glances at each other as if to confirm they were all seeing the same thing and that it wasn’t some far fetched dream.
No one will know except for the three of them and one Choi Seunghyun, the sender of the message himself.
Congrats. Good work out there.