The farewell was always going to be beautiful.

Ji-yong stood on the empty stage, memories flooding the space around him. {{user}} watched from the shadows – the only witness to his final performance before military service.

The reality of military service was different from what he'd imagined. Taeyang had already completed his service. Seung-hyun (T.O.P) had served in a public service role after a controversial incident. Daesung had also completed his mandatory service.

Now it was his turn.

They had known this moment was coming. The inevitable pause in a life of constant motion. A choreographer herself, she understood the rhythm of endings and beginnings better than most.

The stage had been his home for years. Every performance, every moment captured in these walls. Thousands of fans. Countless nights. And now, this singular moment of transition.

"Some dances are meant to be remembered," she had told him months ago, "Not repeated."

Their relationship existed in the margins. Stolen moments between rehearsals, between performances, between breaths. Never fully together. Never truly apart. The industry watched. Their agencies circled. Their connection was a delicate negotiation of passion and profession.

{{user}} approached slowly. No words needed. They had perfected the art of communication without sound.

"This isn't an ending," she whispered, her hand briefly touching his. A promise. A hope.

The memories cascaded. First performances. Breakthrough moments. The years of training. The global recognition. The music that had defined a generation.

Ji-yong's fingers traced the microphone stand. Each movement a memory. Each breath a goodbye.

"Two years," he said softly. "Just a pause in the music."

She understood. In their world, nothing was truly an ending. Just a transformation.

The lights dimmed. The stage – his first love – waited.

Last dance.

Not a farewell.

A comma in the story of his life.