Chapter Text
Present
"Your roots are growing out."
"Hm?"
"I said your roots are growing out," Jiyong ran a hand through blonde hair, fingertips lingering over the areas where deep black made their presence known against lightened strands.
"Mmm," Seungri answered, his voice a low hum, eyes closed as he leaned into the leader's touch, "The color's hard to maintain."
"I told you it would be. Didn't I?"
"I'm a terrible listener, remember?"
The older man laughed softly, his fingers still threading through soft locks. He paused his ministrations when he was met with a snag. Carefully, he tried to detangle the knot he had encountered, but with just a gentle tug, several strands of hair came loose in his hand. He stared at them, even as they began to slip through the gaps in his fingers -shocked - unable to believe that it had so easily happened.
"Seungri."
"Hm?"
"I think your hair's falling out."
The younger man nodded ever so slightly, as if he were only partially acknowledging what was said, "It's been doing that lately."
"Lately?" Jiyong asked, feeling his heart constricting in his chest as his level of concern grew with those words.
"Just the past few days," Seungri said, voice relaxed and calm, as if this were the most normal conversation in the world.
Silence filled the room. Jiyong wanted to speak, but the words wouldn't come. They kept trying to fight their way out, but only succeeded in creating a lump in his throat that felt too large to swallow.
Finally, the younger man spoke, breaking the stillness that had descended on them, "I'm thinking about getting rid of it all."
The leader wrapped his arms around his maknae's shoulders, letting out a shuddering breath at the thought, "Not yet, okay? Just, not yet."
"Okay."
-
2012
"Hyung, stop!" Seungri protested, trying to bat Jiyong's hands away from his hair, "I just fixed it!"
"I can't help it, it's so short and cute," the leader said, tussling what hair he could. The action made the younger man cry out in annoyance, taking several steps back.
The maknae rolled his eyes, hands already trying to fix the damage, "Leave it alone! I want it to look good when we perform."
"Fine," Jiyong gave the younger man a playful shove before sitting down at one end of the sofa in the dressing room.
He watched as Seungri fixed his hair, ever obsessive about the way it laid. The leader almost laughed, placing a hand over his mouth as he focused on the way his teammate fretted, like he always did even though there wasn't much to work with, lithe fingers plucking at individual strands. Even when they were younger, the boy would spend an inordinate amount of time smoothing down his sideburns. He was so proud of his hair when he could get it just right, like it was one of his best assets.
It really was a shame - Jiyong thought- that they had to cut Seungri's hair so short for their new concept. The maknae had pouted so much when he had heard they almost didn't go through with the change. The leader found it harder to contain himself as he remembered the way his teammate had squeezed his eyes shut as his hair was being trimmed, almost as if he were a child going to the barber for the first time. Just the memory alone made him grin like an idiot.
"What's so funny?" the younger man asked, eyeing the leader through the mirror.
"Nothing," Jiyong answered with a wave of his hand, still grinning from ear to ear, "Nothing at all."
Seungri sighed, a defeated sound, "What ever you say."
-
Present
Jiyong laid in bed, unable to sleep.
He kept closing his eyes, willing his body to allow him to drift off, but his mind would not stop racing. Frustrated, he kicked off the covers with a grunt and sat up, running a hand through his hair. He froze when he felt his own health locks between his fingers, realizing how strong those strands were despite him constantly frying it with his treatments.
He thought back to Seungri and how easily the younger man's hair just came loose in his grasp. It was as if his body were slowly letting go of pieces of him. The thought absolutely terrified the leader.
No. Jiyong scolded himself. You can't think like that. You can't think of that.
Hurriedly, he picked up his phone, unable to stand the silence of his home any longer. He looked through his contacts for a moment before allowing it to dial. Placing the phone to his ear, he listened and waited.
"Hello?" a groggy voice greeted from the other end.
"Bae?"
"Ji?"
"Did I wake you?"
"Yeah."
"I'm sorry."
A clearing of the throat was heard, then Youngbae's voice was coming in clearer, "It's okay. What's up?"
"I don't know. I just - I just needed to talk to someone. Hear someone's voice so my own thoughts don't drive me insane."
"You mean you're thinking about Seungri and don't know what else to do. Am I right?"
The leader breathed, discomfort welling up in his chest. He hated that his best friend knew him so well, "His hair's falling out."
"What?"
"I barely touched him, Bae," the tears started to well up in his eyes and he couldn't stop them from falling as he continued to speak. His voice wavered, shaking. He hated how weak he sounded, "It was just coming out. Like it was dissolving in my hands."
"It's just the treatment taking affect," Youngbae said, but there was no conviction in his voice, "We have to wait and see what happens. We can't assume the worst."
The line stayed silent for a long time as Jiyong tried to contain himself, catching his breath and sniffling. At the beginning, he had told himself he would try to not cry. He had to stay strong as their leader, but with every passing week, each passing day, every single hour that was full of distress and anxiety, the protective wall he tried ti build up started to crack. Everything started to weigh heavy on his heart and he couldn't keep it pent up inside as he had resolved to. Before he even realized it, before he could even stop it, the dam broke and all his tears flooded out.
"Jiyong, do you want company?"
"Yes. Please."
-
2013
"Seungri, you're looking more handsome these days," Jiyong exclaimed over the phone. He had been watching a broadcast of the maknae's solo performance and couldn't help but notice that their youngest was becoming more developed, boyish features melting away to reveal a handsome grown up face. Familiar laughter on the other line greeted him. The leader couldn't help but to laugh as well. Seungri's laughter had always been contagious, even when he wasn't there in person. "When did you get so good looking, maknae?"
"I don't know. Your looks must have rubbed off on me over all these years!"
"And your hair! It's grown out so much!"
"Do you like it, hyung?"
"It makes you look very cute."
"I worked very hard to make it look this way."
"There's always room for improvement though."
Seungri groaned. His voice went up in pitch as he whined, "Oppa! Why couldn't you let me have this one moment?"
Jiyong could only laugh.
-
Present
He threw his pillow across the room, a hot ball of anger was building in his stomach. It's not fair! He wanted to kick and scream, smash the things all around him, but he couldn't bring himself to, even as those feelings of rage kept growing. He knew eventually it would boil over, but he had to keep composed. He had to be the leader.
He had to be the leader.
He had to stay strong.
He buried his face in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he tried to control his breathing.
He was the leader.
He was supposed to be strong.
Jiyong inhaled deeply before opening his eyes. He took stock of his room before getting up, mind set on doing something, anything. Youngbae would be by soon and tidying up would keep his mind occupied for the time being. He knew it was what he had to do, keep himself occupied so that the emotions didn't take him over.
How long can I stay strong? He wondered as he wandered from room to room.