[BREAKING]  BIGBANG's G-DRAGON CAUGHT DOING DRUGS?

The young star has been reported by authorities to have been smoking . . .

A local news channel was displayed on a black plasma TV, from it, a female anchor's voice filled the empty living room.

Throughout all afternoon and into the evening, countless medias were covering the recent scandal that broke out involving G-Dragon.

Him smoking , him doing “drugs”, the headlines were endless. Everywhere he'd try to escape to, reality would slap him in the face with a wad of newspaper.

He was tired. So ing tired.

Why couldn't they just leave him alone?

One mistake. . and they trash everything he's built for the past few years. It wasn't like he didn't know he did wrong, because he did, but what angered him was how easily, how swift, it was for them to just beat him down and throw him away like some leftover bone. He hated their backstabbing nature, he hated the fake fans who were just like them. But he hated himself the most, for succumbing to the wild temptation in the first place.

A mess. That was what he was.

And on this chilly night, as the pale moonlight subtly gave way to the lost, Kwon Jiyong, being one of them, stumbled home in a drunken stupor.

His eyes were glazed over, unfocused, and in his hand was a bottle, half-filled with liquor. He looked up at the sky, and took a swig of his bottle. Glaring, he scoffed, "How is it up there, huh? Are you enjoying your view?"

Glaring at a blank sky, spouting his venom, because people always seemed to love watching him fall, and the world, even when it crushed him, did not falter from revolving. The world didn't revolve around him, he knew that for a fact, but where was its consequences from destroying people like him? It was a pointless argument, but he didn't care. The world is cruel. So cruel. And god, did he hate it right now.

He held out his bottle, shaking it carelessly, "Would you like some of this? Some alcohol from someone who you so happily ruined? " He smashed the bottle on the pavement like a madman, watching it as the glass shattered, leaving a clutter of broken glass and wasted alcohol. He snorted, then snickered, until a maniacal laughter broke out and he found himself crouching down while still laughing.

It was so funny, this whole situation he found himself in.

The world made him mad, sure. Jiyong can go on and blame all of his problems on the world without a thought. But, ultimately, when it all came down to one thing, wasn’t it he himself who made the mess he was caught up in right now?

His laughter quieted as he stared at the clutter in front of him, his thoughts becoming somber as the truth overtook him. The moonlight reflected on the broken pieces of glass, and trailed down the alcohol as it chased the cracks of the pavement.

Who was he kidding?

He should've stayed home on the nights when his baby girl pleaded for him to.

He should've made the right choices instead of the wrong ones. The thrill might've been worth it then, but it wasn't worth it now. He knew better, but knowing better didn't help him when the temptations were ten time stronger. It's too late now, and maybe, too late forever.

Standing up and without looking back, he walked towards his apartment building.

Each footsteps, heavy, like his spirit. Heavy and burdened.

He passed by the doorman, refusing any assistance from the poor worker.

Going up the elevator, stalking through the hallway, he came to the door of his apartment. It was tedious, every movement he made seemed to be in slow motion and yet, at the same time, it felt like time wasn't ever going to stop. It was like looking at himself in third person, he was there and yet it felt too numb to be real.

His sluggish fingers blindly fumbled with the keypad until it finally allowed access, and open.

He stepped into the apartment, noticing the TV still , he ignored it and went to his kitchen for something to ease his dry throat and clear his hazy mind.

Empty cans of beer and heaps of dirty laundry were strewn around the once-clean apartment, among many other things. The sound of the TV buzzed in the background, still going on about the scandal.

The place was decorated with expensive furnitures, all pretty and modern, but the gloom that hung in the air, dimmed any splendor that decorations could enhance.

His home was dead. Just like him.

He felt numb, out of place even, and just as he was being lured into his thoughts, his phone rang.

Its insistent, insisted on disrupting the stillness that filled the empty kitchen. He tried to ignore it, tried to block the annoying ring tone indicating someone was calling. And not surprisingly, he couldn’t.

Jiyong set aside the cup of water he’d gotten himself and reached for it. His vacant eyes slid over the screen hollowly, until it jolted with the slightest emotion seeing the caller I.D.

Darong

His heart raced a little faster, to that similar rhythm she had created within him. He clutched his phone, and opted to decline it when the longing to hear her voice stopped him in his tracks.

Maybe a few seconds won't hurt, just for a few seconds. .

"Jiyong?" Her sweet voice went over the line.  " D— D." He stuttered, with an abrupt stop.

"Jiyong, where have you been? I've been calling you for the past few days, everyone has, Youngbae, Seungri, where were you?" She interrogated. A silence then followed as she waited for his answer. “Ji?”

Overwhelmed, it was like a cat's got his tongue. How was he supposed to feel about her kindness for him? They had broken up weeks before, and among the many reasons he was getting wasted day after day-- their relationship was one of them.

"Jingyo," She broke the silence, with the endearment she used to call him, "Yah. . how are you?"

His grip on the phone tightened.  

He couldn't reply genuinely, so subtly, he evaded it. His voice was timid as he spoke, "I was home."

She noticed his tone, and also noticed his evasion to her second question. He. . .sounded weak, timid. Her heart ached for him. What she would do to see him and his gummy smiles again.

"Have you eaten?" She asked softly.

"Some ramen. You?" He leaned against the countertop, eyes trained on the floor.

"Not yet. . the girls and I just finished filming for our comeback," She hesitated before continuing, "how about I join you for dinner? You know, just a little something extra, all that ramen is light and isn't good for you."

I want to see her.

"No, it's fine. Go home and rest. I bet it's been a long day for you." He's missed her so much. Her laughs, her antics, he just wanted to be with her like before. Jiyong clenched his fists. But not like this. She couldn't see him like this. Not when all he is right now, is a loser.

She sighed.

"Ji, I want to see you."

"Dara. . .I can't, it's just-- Not today." He said, then in a weaker voice he muttered, “Maybe not ever.”

"But, Ji--"

"Sorry, but I can't. You shouldn’t, anyways."

Something inside of her ticked the moment he refused her again. More so when he told her what she should and shouldn’t do.

She was always patience when it came to him, but this time, he was just being outright stubborn.

"Stop," She exclaimed exasperated, "trying to push me away. Trying to push EVERYONE away when it's clearly obvious you need help!"

He pursed his lips, silent. "Jiyong, you know I love you. I know we broke up but I can't stand seeing you all miserable with what's happening. It hurts me knowing that you're hurting, and I can't help because you won't let me." She had to let him know, how she felt, because in doing so, maybe in the slightest, he would open up too.

The recent events was killing her, she could only imagine what he was feeling.

Her heart might’ve ached, but with every seconds that passed, like a volcano, it seemed to fuel his anger.

The anger. . it was, mindless. Jiyong didn’t really know what brought it on. It might’ve been the stress, or the guilt, or the hatred towards himself.

"Maybe. . .I don't need help, D." He slowly gritted out.

Everyone wanted to “help” him, make him apologize for the scandal, and have him kneel down to the public like some beggar. It was his life and yet he was getting flamed for living it. They had no part in the choices he made and yet, they act as if they had all the rights in the world to judge him and shame him.

"With everything that's happened? The public isn't very nice right now, and your behavior these past few days aren't helping. You getting drunk 24/7, isolating yourself from the world, your life is going down the drain, Ji."

Wasn’t she just like them? Not bothering to even ask but carry on as if my life was in her hands?

"Well isn't that too much to say? Even for you?"

Realizing she said too much, Dara bit her tongue.

She then sighed and spoke again, more softly, "Look, I said too much. I'm sorry, but I think it's time you get out and face the world. Drinking all day won't solve your problems."

He knew she was right. Each one of her words spoke the truth that he was afraid to face. But at that moment, he didn't want the truth, he hated everything. High on alcohol and anger, the last thing he cared about was pacifying the hate.

In fact, he'd be glad to fuel it. "Why don't you. . . why don’t you just mind your own business?"

"Ji--" She started.

"No. Sandara. We're not even dating what associations do you have with me that you feel the need to 'help' me. Keep it, I don't need it. My life is going down the drain anyways as you've said, so why should I care. It's over." He chuckled humorlessly. "Maybe if things were the way it was before, we wouldn't be here fighting over the ruins of my life, but it isn't. Just stay out of my business before I hurt you even more."

"And you, and the rest of the people who are trying to ‘reach out’ to me.

What. A. ing. Joke.

No one listens to what I have to say, they all look at my mistake and say what they want the way they see fit. They all leave me. Like you. Like everyone else who said they never would." He said bitterly, the accusation dripping like water from his voice. But underlying it was the frustration and pent up stress he's been holding inside for so long, she could feel it. No matter how accusing and blunt his words were. He had always wore his heart on his sleeves.

"Is this what you feel? How you see it? Jiyong, I—  I never meant to hurt you, we just needed a break." She clarified, then in a quieter voice she added, "You hurt me. That's why." He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off.

"See, before the scandal, before our break up, every time I asked you to come home, you would make up excuses, then the next morning I'd find pictures of you surfing online partying at club parties and events I never even knew of."

"My own boyfriend didn't even have the decency to tell me where he was going even when he knew I'd be home alone, worried about him for god's sake! I was like those miserable housewifes in soap operas."

He tensed at what she said, his anger shimmering down to a size. "You