Yar

The fluorescent lights of the practice room hummed with a low, buzzing electricity that seemed to vibrate in rhythm with the pounding in Seungri’s head. They had been at it for six hours, perfecting the choreography for the upcoming tour, but the atmosphere was far from the celebratory "BigBang" energy the world expected. It was heavy, laden with a tension that only two people in the room truly understood.

Kon Sonhyun sat in the corner, perched on a rolling stool like a king on a plastic throne. His eyes, sharp and judgmental, followed every move Seungri made. When Jiyong danced, Sonhyun nodded in approval. When Taeyang hit a difficult transition, Sonhyun offered a thumb’s up. But every time Seungri moved, Sonhyun’s lips thinned into a line of visible distaste.

"Okay, let’s take five," Jiyong panted, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He slumped against the mirror, his chest heaving. "Seungri-ya, you’re dragging on the second chorus. Pick up the pace."

Before Seungri could even open his mouth to apologize, Sonhyun’s voice cut through the room, laced with a mock-playful edge that made the hair on the back of Seungri’s neck stand up.

"Cut him some slack, GD," Sonhyun said, chuckling as he stood up. He walked over to the group, tossing a water bottle to Daesung but pointedly ignoring the one sitting near Seungri’s feet. "Our maknae is carrying a bit of extra baggage lately, isn't he? It’s hard to be light on your feet when you’re indulging in so many... late-night snacks."

The other members chuckled awkwardly. They were used to the staff teasing them about their fitness, but lately, Sonhyun’s "jokes" had taken on a sharper, more frequent frequency.

"I'm fine," Seungri mumbled, staring at his own reflection. He looked the same as he always did, but under Sonhyun’s gaze, he felt bloated, sluggish, and fundamentally flawed.

"Are you?" Sonhyun stepped closer, clapping a hand on Seungri’s shoulder. To anyone watching, it looked like a supportive gesture from a manager. To Seungri, the grip felt like a warning—a reminder of the file Sonhyun kept in his desk, the one filled with names, dates, and the stench of Burning Sun. "You’ve got to keep that idol image up, Seungri. If you lose your looks, what’s left? It’s not like you’re the powerhouse vocal of the group, right?"

"Hey, hyung, that’s a bit much," Taeyang said, though his voice lacked conviction. He was tired, and Sonhyun had been a godsend lately, taking care of all their schedules with ruthless efficiency so they could focus on the music.

Sonhyun laughed, a bright, fake sound. "I’m just kidding! He knows I love him. Right, Seungri? I just want what’s best for the brand. We can’t have one link breaking the chain."

Seungri forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Right. I’ll work harder."

The practice ended an hour later. The members filtered out, chatting about dinner plans. Sonhyun stayed behind, ostensibly to tidy up the equipment. As Seungri reached for his gym bag, the door clicked shut. The lock turned.

The atmosphere shifted instantly. The mock-playfulness evaporated from Sonhyun’s face, replaced by a cold, simmering rage that made him look ten years older.

"You missed the high note in 'Last Dance' again," Sonhyun said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous register.

"I was out of breath from the choreo—"

"You were out of breath because you’re soft," Sonhyun spat, walking toward him until they were inches apart. "In every sense of the word. You’re soft, you’re lazy, and you’re a liability. Do you have any idea how much work I’m doing to keep your filth from leaking out? I spend half my day on the phone with reporters, playing nice, while you’re out here tripping over your own feet."

Seungri flinched. "I told you, I’m handling things. It won't come out."

"It’s already out in the circles that matter," Sonhyun hissed. He grabbed the front of Seungri’s sweat-soaked shirt, bunching the fabric in his fist. "If the fans find out what you’ve been doing, it’s not just you who goes down. You’ll drag Jiyong down. You’ll ruin everything Taeyang has built. You’re a parasite, Lee Seunghyun. You’re eating away at the foundation of this group while smiling for the cameras."

"Then why don't you just tell them?" Seungri’s voice trembled. "If you hate me so much, why keep the secret?"

Sonhyun let go of him with a shove, a look of pure disgust crossing his features. "Because I care about BigBang. I care about the four men who actually put in the work to make this a legacy. You’re just the lucky tag-along who decided to turn his life into a crime scene. I keep the secret for them, not for you. But don’t think for a second that I’ll make your life easy while I’m doing it."

He walked over to the sound system and turned it back on. A playback of Seungri’s solo vocal track filled the room. It was a raw recording, devoid of the polished production that usually masked his imperfections.

"Listen to that," Sonhyun commanded. "Flat. Thin. Unremarkable. You’re the weakest link in every room you walk into. Remember that the next time you think you’re a 'businessman.' You’re a mediocre singer with a talent for making mistakes."

Seungri stood there, forced to listen to his own voice echoing in the vast, empty room. Every crack in the notes felt like a physical blow. He wanted to scream, to defend himself, but the weight of his own secrets acted like a gag. Sonhyun was right. If the truth came out, the "Kings of K-pop" would be remembered for a scandal instead of their music. He was the poison in the well.

The next day, the group had a scheduled live stream to interact with fans. They sat on a long couch, bright-eyed and energetic, the perfect image of brotherhood. Sonhyun stood behind the camera, hovering near the staff.

As the comments rolled in, Jiyong read a few aloud. "Someone is asking what our favorite snacks are lately."

"Seungri has been eating everything!" Sonhyun chimed in from off-camera, his voice sounding cheerful and teasing. "I have to hide the catering from him or we won't have anything left for the staff. Our maknae is growing sideways instead of up!"

The members laughed. It was a classic variety-show style joke. On the screen, the hearts and "LOL" comments flooded in. But a few comments began to flicker by that were different.

*Is it just me or is the manager being a bit mean?*
*Seungri looks really uncomfortable...*
*Manager-nim is always joking about his weight lately. It’s not that funny.*

Seungri saw them. He felt a flicker of warmth that someone noticed, followed immediately by a cold dread. If the fans started looking too closely at his relationship with Sonhyun, they might start looking closely at *why* the relationship had soured.

"I'm just enjoying life," Seungri said into the camera, tilting his head with his trademark charm. "The food is too good to resist."

"Maybe resist a little more," Sonhyun’s voice came again, light as air but sharp as a razor. "We want you to fit into your stage costumes, don't we? Unless you want to perform in a poncho."

The laughter from the other members was a little more strained this time. Even Daesung glanced toward Sonhyun with a confused frown. But the manager just winked at the camera, playing the role of the "harassed but loving" staff member perfectly.

When the live stream ended, the masks dropped. The members headed toward the dressing room to change, but Sonhyun stopped Seungri at the door.

"The fans are starting to pity you," Sonhyun whispered, leaning in close as if adjusting Seungri’s collar. "They think I’m a bully. Isn't that funny? They’re defending a man who’s involved in things that would make their skin crawl."

"Stop it," Seungri pleaded quietly. "Please."

"I'll stop when you're gone," Sonhyun said, his eyes cold. "But until then, I’m going to make sure you never forget exactly what you are. Every time you look in the mirror, every time you hear a fan scream your name, I want you to feel the rot. Because I feel it every time I have to look at you."

He patted Seungri’s cheek—a gesture that looked affectionate from a distance but was delivered with enough force to sting.

"Go on. Go tell the others how mean I am," Sonhyun challenged. "See if they believe you over the man who’s been protecting their careers for years."

Seungri watched him walk away. He turned toward the dressing room, but his feet felt like lead. Inside, he could hear Jiyong and Youngbae laughing about something. They were happy. They were safe. They were untainted.

He walked to the bathroom instead, locking the door and leaning against the sink. He looked at his reflection, searching for the "rot" Sonhyun talked about. He didn't see a criminal or a mogul. He saw a man who was drowning in a sea of his own making, with the only person holding a life raft using it to push his head further under the water.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. A message from one of his "business associates" about a meeting at a club.

Seungri stared at the screen. The spiral was tightening. Behind him was the crushing weight of Sonhyun’s psychological warfare, and in front of him was the inevitable collapse of his secret life.

He realized then that Sonhyun wasn't just punishing him for the scandal. Sonhyun was enjoying the destruction. He wasn't just protecting BigBang; he was playing God with the one member he deemed unworthy of the light.

Seungri splashed cold water on his face, trying to wash away the feeling of Sonhyun’s hand on his cheek. He had to keep going. He had to keep the facade. Because if he broke, everything broke.

He walked out of the bathroom and found Sonhyun waiting in the hallway, holding a schedule clip-board.

"There you are," Sonhyun said loudly, so the passing stylists could hear. "Don't dawdle, Seungri-ya! You have a vocal lesson. Not that it’ll help much, but we have to try, right?"

He smiled, a wide, predatory grin that showed too many teeth.

"Coming, hyung," Seungri replied, his voice a hollow echo of his former self.

As they walked down the hall, Sonhyun intentionally bumped his shoulder against Seungri’s, knocking him slightly off balance. To an outsider, it was just a bit of horseplay. To Seungri, it was a reminder that the ice he was standing on was getting thinner every single day, and Sonhyun was the one holding the hammer.

The fans continued to post on forums, gathering clips of the manager’s "jokes." They made compilations of Seungri’s fading smile. They sensed a storm was coming, but they were looking in the wrong direction. They thought their idol was being bullied by a mean manager. They didn't realize the manager was the only thing standing between them and a truth that would break their hearts forever.

And Sonhyun knew it. That was his favorite part of the game. He could be the villain in the eyes of the public, as long as he got to be the executioner in private.

"Sing up, Seungri," Sonhyun called out as they reached the practice room door. "The world is listening. For now."

The door shut behind them, and the hum of the practice room returned, louder than before, sounding less like music and more like a countdown.