The recording studio smelled like fresh coffee and old vinyl, the air thick with anticipation. You sat on the leather couch, fingers gripping the edge of your notebook, trying to focus on the lyrics in front of you. The dim lighting cast long shadows on the walls, but nothing felt heavier than the weight of the moment.

The door opened, and even without looking, you knew.

G-Dragon walked in with the same effortless confidence he always had, the kind that made the air shift around him. He set his bag down, greeting the producer with a nod before his eyes landed on you.

For a second, neither of you said anything. The silence stretched, filled with things left unsaid, memories neither of you had dared to touch in years.

He exhaled softly, breaking the moment. “It’s been a while.”

You nodded, keeping your expression neutral. “Yeah.”

That was all. No unnecessary pleasantries, no forced smiles. Just an acknowledgment of time and distance—of everything that had changed and everything that hadn’t.

The producer clapped his hands together, oblivious to the tension. “Alright, let’s get started! I’ll leave you two to work on the lyrics.”

The door shut behind him, leaving you alone.

You turned your attention to the notebook in your lap, flipping to a blank page. The pen felt heavy between your fingers, but you forced yourself to focus.

This was just work. Just another song.

And if your hands trembled slightly as you wrote the first lyric, you pretended not to notice.

the other members of BigBang and Wonder Girls were working on a choreo