The first thing you notice is the sound. Not the roar of the crowd, not yet. It's subtler. The low thump of a beat being built. Laughter spilling out of dressing rooms. Someone yelling across a loading dock in Korean. Ji-yong’s voice, muffled through a door, going over lyrics for the fifth time.
The second thing you notice? You’re not watching from the outside anymore.
You’re on tour. With BIGBANG.
It started with a call. Or maybe a message. “Come with us,” Seungri had said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. And you’d gone. Because how could you not?
Now it’s buses and flights and green rooms and stage lights. Now it’s them.
Taeyang’s your morning. Coffee in hand, soft smiles, playlists shared before sunrise. Daesung’s your chaos, dragging you to every hole-in-the-wall food spot in every city. G-dragon is quiet until he’s not, dropping dry one-liners that make you choke on your drink. Seungri’s energy is endless—late-night dance-offs, bad jokes, whispered gossip he swears is true. And T.O.P—
T.O.P is the moment between. The glance from across the room. The verse he scribbles and “accidentally” leaves in your bunk. The silence that feels like something is about to happen.
Cities pass like dreams. Tokyo. Paris. LA. Seoul. Rehearsals. Afterparties. Long drives with nothing but stars and music. You’re not just a guest—you’re woven in.
One night, after a particularly wild show, you're all sprawled out in the hotel suite—feet kicked up, hair damp, laughter still echoing.
T.O.P shifts beside you on the couch, leans close.
“You’re not just part of the tour,” he murmurs, voice low, words meant for just you. “You’re part of us.”
And in that moment—warm, loud, alive—you realize:
You never really needed a backstage pass. Because you’ve been exactly where you’re meant to be all along.