tour

Preparations for the REBIRTH tour are in full swing, and G-Dragon is like a fully fueled precision instrument, running at full speed.

His personal studio became the last place in the entire YG building to turn off its lights. The walls were covered with world maps, marked with tour cities and routes, and a huge whiteboard was covered with scribbled setlists, arrangement ideas, and stage layout diagrams. The air was filled with the mixed smells of coffee (he now allows himself a strong cup a day), paint, and printer ink.

“The transition here isn’t smooth enough.” G-Dragon, wearing monitoring headphones and frowning, told the sound engineer, “What I want is that sense of tearing apart as it struggles out of the ruins, and then transitioning to the grandeur of the ‘REBIRTH’ theme. The current version is too ‘smooth’ and has lost its tension.”

His pursuit of perfection is fully reflected in his music composition. He can revise a transitional melody of less than ten seconds dozens of times. When the dance director brought him a preliminary choreography video, he watched it three times and then stood up directly: "This movement is not powerful enough. Let me demonstrate the feeling I want."

He took off his jacket and improvised a dance in front of the mirror in the practice room, every movement of his body brimming with emotion and a sense of story. That almost life-burning dedication left all the team members involuntarily holding their breath. This is G-Dragon, the absolute king on stage; his rigorous demands on art are the core of his charisma.

Sometimes, late at night, he would collapse onto the sofa in his studio, exhausted, his fingers stiff from endless revisions of arrangements. He would pick up his phone, look at the photo of Su You smiling at her Harvard graduation ceremony on his screensaver, and his eyes would soften. He would send her a short message: "[Still busy? Get some rest.]" Often, Su You wouldn't reply immediately; he knew she was probably also engrossed in her own "battlefield."

The "battlefield" for Suyou is equally turbulent.

The macroeconomic policy analysis project she was in charge of had entered a crucial stage of reporting to higher authorities. Her desk was piled high with various reports, data models, and analytical documents. In the meeting room, her clear and forceful presentations could often be heard:

"Based on our model analysis, while the third option might stimulate economic growth in the short term, it would accumulate greater financial risks in the medium to long term. I suggest that we should focus more on structural reforms, even if the initial pain will be more pronounced..."

Her arguments were sharp, her logic rigorous, and her data well-supported, earning the admiration of many senior colleagues. This seemingly gentle and mild-mannered young woman possessed a sharpness and resilience in her professional field that rivaled anyone else's.

She would also work late into the night, sometimes leaving the think tank building to find the Seoul night sky already dotted with stars. She would habitually glance at her phone, and upon seeing a message from G-Dragon, a smile would unconsciously creep onto her face. She would reply: "Just finished, you too, don't stay up too late."

They don't have as much time for long phone calls as before, and video calls are often missed due to time differences or their busy schedules. But a new understanding is forming—they no longer need constant clinginess to confirm their love, but rather, on their own journeys, they know that the other is also shining brightly and is always providing invisible support from behind.

An unexpected challenge arrives: an accident during rehearsals at the Seoul station.

During the final sprint of rehearsals for his Seoul concert, an accident occurred. In pursuit of the ultimate stage effect, G-Dragon, due to excessive fatigue, severely twisted his ankle upon landing during a high-altitude wire stunt.

Su You was attending an important inter-departmental meeting when she received the call from Representative Cui. Her heart sank. She didn't panic; she simply explained the situation to the meeting chair in a low voice, then quickly left the room and drove straight to the hospital.

In the hospital room, G-Dragon's ankle was in a thick cast, and his face showed frustration and irritation. When he saw Su You enter, he subconsciously tried to force a smile, but it looked worse than crying.

"What did the doctor say?" Su You nodded to Representative Cui first, then walked to the bedside, her voice calm.

"A ligament sprain, I need at least three weeks of rest." G-Dragon's voice was low and hoarse, filled with deep self-reproach. "But the Seoul Station starts next week..."

This means that the highly anticipated premiere, which has been in preparation for months, may face postponement or cancellation. This would be a heavy blow to his acting career and the expectations of his fans.

Su You didn't offer any empty words of comfort. She simply held his hand, examined his injury carefully, and then looked up at him calmly: "Kwon Ji-yong, tell me, apart from that high-altitude stunt, can you complete the rest?"

G-Dragon paused for a moment, met her determined gaze, and subconsciously replied, "The rest... no problem. The dance can be adjusted, and singing is even more no problem."

“Okay.” Su You nodded, turning to Representative Cui and the core team members who had rushed over upon hearing the news. “So, what we need to do now is not to be discouraged, but to immediately activate the contingency plan. We need to readjust the stage choreography, reduce the dances that require intense footwork, and strengthen the lighting, VJ, and narrative to compensate for the visual impact. G-Dragon’s voice and stage presence are the core of the concert, aren’t they?”

Her clear and logical analysis, like a calm breeze, dispelled the anxious atmosphere in the ward. Looking at her, Kwon Ji-yong seemed to see again Su You, the woman who spoke eloquently in Harvard classrooms and argued forcefully in think tank meeting rooms. His girl, at the time he needed her most, displayed astonishing strength and wisdom.

With Su You's encouragement and the team's efficient execution, a new plan quickly took shape. G-Dragon also rallied, insisting on participating in every adjustment meeting despite his mobility issues, guiding rehearsals from his wheelchair, and filling the stage with a more powerful vocal and emotional expression.

Seoul Station, arriving as scheduled.

On the night of the concert, the venue was packed with people. When the lights dimmed and the music started, G-Dragon, seated on a specially designed throne, slowly rose from the center of the stage, and the entire audience erupted in thunderous cheers.

Without flashy running and jumping, he commanded the entire stage with his eyes, gestures, and every powerful line of his singing. He explained the concept of "REBIRTH," shared his journey after being discharged from the military, and even humorously mentioned his recent "illness mix-up" and "pregnancy plans," eliciting both laughter and emotion from the fans in the audience.

When the song "Ordinary Day," dedicated to Su You, was sung, the camera panned across the VIP area. Su You was sitting there, wearing simple jeans and a white shirt, swaying gently to the music, looking at him with tears in her eyes, but even more so with pride.

The entire concert transformed into a profound emotional exchange and an artistic feast. At the end of the performance, during the encore, G-Dragon stood up, leaning on a specially made cane, and bowed to the entire audience. Sweat soaked his hair, but his eyes shone with an astonishing light.

He spoke into the microphone, his voice choked with emotion: "Thank you... thank you for still being here. And thank you... to the person who showed me that no matter what happens, I can get back up."

He didn't say a name, but everyone knew who he was talking about. Su You was in the audience, looking at him across the stage, everything understood without a word.

A new balance and distant longing

The success of the Seoul stop laid a strong foundation of confidence for the entire tour. G-Dragon and his team embarked on their global journey. His foot injury gradually improved under careful care, but Su You was unable to accompany him throughout the entire trip as originally planned because the think tank project had entered a crucial stage of international cooperation.

They began to truly experience the taste of a long-distance relationship, but an enhanced version—a long-distance relationship spanning different time zones.

While backstage at the Tokyo Dome, G-Dragon sent Su You a short rehearsal video during a break from makeup; Su You, attending an international conference in Berlin, received a call from him from New York at five or six in the morning, listening to him excitedly recount the grand occasion at Madison Square Garden the previous night.

Their chat history is filled with misaligned timelines:

I just woke up. Are you done on your end? Get some rest.

[Rehearsal's over, I've had something to eat, and now I'm heading back to the hotel. Is it lunchtime where you are? Remember to eat.]

[The report is finally finished! Good luck with your performance tonight!]

[The encore is over, it was a great success! I miss you.]

The longing is real, but the support is even more unwavering. Through the cold screen, they share the warmth of each other's worlds. Su You diligently watches every live stream or recording of her concerts, while G-Dragon follows the industry's reaction to the projects Su You is involved in. They are not only lovers, but also each other's most loyal audience and most knowledgeable "colleagues."

Epilogue: A Better Us

As the tour progressed into its later stages, the policy project Su You was in charge of also achieved significant progress, gaining high recognition from senior management. After the project's celebration banquet, she sent a long message to G-Dragon, sharing her joy.

On his flight to the next city, G-Dragon carefully read her message, a tired yet incredibly relieved smile spreading across his face. He replied:

My Yuzu, you've always been the best. I'll celebrate with you properly when I get back.

He turned off his phone and looked out the porthole at the rolling sea of ​​clouds. He thought that this was perhaps the best form of love—not one person depending on the other, nor one person sacrificing for the other, but two independent individuals running on their own tracks, shining and radiating, yet attracting each other by gravity, illuminating each other, and creating a wider starry sky.