The bass was so deep it felt like it rattled your bones, the lights strobed in flashes, and your voice was nearly gone from screaming every lyric — IBELONGIIU — but you didn’t care. You were front row at a G-Dragon concert, phone in hand, recording every second as if to bottle the electricity in the air.

Then he did it — stepped down from the main stage into that narrow walkway between the barriers and the crowd.

The whole arena lost its mind.

Your breath hitched as he moved closer, still rapping effortlessly, scanning the faces of the fans who reached out for him like he was untouchable. And then, impossibly, his gaze landed on you.

He stopped.

Right in front of you.

Still singing, he extended his hand toward you. For a second, you froze — then realized he was pointing at your phone.

Heart hammering, you handed it over.

G-Dragon took your phone with a smirk, flipped it toward himself, and — without missing a beat in his verse — recorded himself up close, panning the camera between his face and the roaring crowd behind him.

He winked at your phone.

The smirk softened into something different, more playful, almost intimate. He leaned in close, filling the frame with just the two of you for a fleeting second before handing the phone back, his fingers brushing yours like it was all part of the show.

"Now that’s a good video," he said into the mic between lines, his grin lingering before he stepped back and moved down the line of fans, leaving your heart somewhere on that arena floor.