2019.

The crowd outside the military base buzzed with anticipation—families, friends, fans—all waiting for familiar faces to step through the gates. Among them was you, tucked into the back, your heart pounding not with the weight of expectation, but with something heavier: worry for him.

Kwon Ji-yong. G-Dragon. Your best friend since childhood.

When the doors opened, he finally emerged—uniform neat, posture sharp, eyes scanning the sea of people with a flicker of hope. You knew who he was looking for.

And he found her.

Or so he thought.

Because the second his gaze landed on her, the hope shattered. She wasn’t waiting for him—not really. She was pressed against another man, kissing him like Ji-yong had never existed.

The world seemed to tilt.

For a moment, Ji-yong didn’t move. His expression was unreadable, calm on the surface, but you saw it—the storm beneath. The flicker of pain in his eyes, the hollowness that came when something fragile broke.

And then, his gaze shifted.

To you.

Your breath caught when his eyes locked with yours, sharp and unyielding, yet desperately searching. You wanted to go to him, to tell him you were sorry, that you were here, that he wasn’t alone. You took a step forward, words forming on your tongue—

But before you could speak, his hands were already on your waist.

And then—his lips were on yours.

A kiss. Soft at first, almost questioning, then steady, sure. A kiss that spoke volumes more than words ever could: the years of friendship, the heartbreak he couldn’t voice, the sudden clarity of who had always been there.

Your world spun. You froze only for a heartbeat before instinct took over, your arms wrapping around his neck, holding him close like you were afraid he might disappear again.

Gasps erupted around you. You didn’t have to look to know—his ex had noticed, had stepped forward in shock. But neither of you broke apart.

And then—her voice.

“Ji-yong?!”

Sharp, disbelieving. His ex had pulled away from the man she’d been kissing, her heels clicking furiously against the pavement as she rushed toward the two of you. “What are you doing?! What the hell is this?!”

But Ji-yong didn’t pull back. Didn’t even glance at her. His kiss deepened for a moment longer, as if sealing something unspoken, as if daring the world to interrupt.

When he finally broke the kiss, his forehead rested lightly against yours, his breath warm, his hands still holding you firmly in place. His voice, low enough for only you to hear, carried both steel and softness.

“She doesn’t matter.”