There is no such thing as a separate hope-torture. That is the only way to describe what BIGBANG and T.O.P are doing to their fans right now. After all the drama, after all the public declarations about walking separate paths, after the awkward goodbyes and the painful silence, the two sides keep finding clever ways to step on each other’s shadows at the most critical moments. They pretend to be cool, composed, and completely over each other. But then they release something, post something, or follow someone that instantly ignites the same old fire of nostalgia in the hearts of fans who have been waiting for over a decade. It is a game of mixed signals, a calculated performance of lingering attachment dressed up as independence. And the people who suffer most are not the artists themselves, but the fans who have loved them through everything. This is not a reunion. This is not even a real rivalry. It is a cruel, ongoing emotional loop that keeps fans trapped between hope and heartbreak. And the worst part is that it does not feel accidental anymore. It feels like a strategy, a way to keep the world talking, a way to keep the name BIGBANG alive even as the group itself is scattered. If that is not hope-torture, then what is?
Look at what happened recently. BIGBANG announced a new song called “BiiiG” to celebrate their twentieth debut anniversary, and released a title poster that was all darkness and light: a massive door, beams of light spilling out from the edges, and a lone silhouette walking toward that glow. It was dramatic, cinematic, and deeply symbolic, the kind of imagery that makes fans’ hearts race. Then, almost at the same time, T.O.P, the former member who had already made it clear he left the group, unveiled a teaser poster for his first Asia fan meeting tour. And what did that poster show? A massive door. Light leaking out of it. A silhouette moving toward the light. Same visual language, same mood, same universe. The only difference was that BIGBANG used vivid primary colors for the three members, G-Dragon, Taeyang, and Daesung, while T.O.P went for a monochrome black-and-white look. Anyone with eyes could see what was happening. It was as if the two campaigns were designed on a shared blueprint, as if one side was deliberately echoing the other. Sure, one could argue that doors and silhouettes are common clichés in entertainment promotion, that this is just a coincidence. But at this exact moment, with the exact same aesthetic, it stopped being a coincidence. It became a visual message, a quiet but unmistakable signal to fans: we are still connected, we are still telling the same story, we are still part of the same narrative. That is not nostalgia. That is intentional noise marketing disguised as art.
This pattern has been going on all year. When T.O.P released his first solo full album, “TOP SPOT – ANOTHER DIMENSION,” the remaining members of BIGBANG suddenly became his most visible supporters. G-Dragon, Taeyang, and Daesung all posted screenshots on their personal social media accounts showing they were streaming his music. G-Dragon even liked a post from a news outlet covering T.O.P’s comeback, putting himself right in the middle of the controversy. It was a public display of loyalty, but to fans, it was deeply confusing. Here was a person who had publicly left the group, who had caused pain and anger and disappointment, and yet the remaining members were cheering him on as if nothing had ever happened. And then T.O.P himself added fuel to the fire with his lyrics. In a track called “OVAYA (A SMALL, FILTHY SHOW WINDOW),” he sang the line, “I’m so sorry but I loved ‘I left BIG-BANG!’” This was an intentional twist on one of BIGBANG’s most iconic lyrics, “I’m so sorry but I love you,” from their massive hit “Lies.” He took the old memory, turned it inside out, and made it a declaration of his departure. It was clever, no doubt. But it was also cruel. Because for fans, that song, that lyric, that moment in time represents something precious. Twisting it into a joke about leaving the group feels like mocking the very people who built the fandom in the first place. The remaining members publicly applauding him only made it worse. To the public, it looked less like genuine friendship and more like a bizarre league of their own, a group of people performing separation while secretly pulling the same strings.
The climax of this entire strange performance came when BIGBANG opened their official social media account to mark the twentieth anniversary. The account was supposed to be a clean, fresh start, a way for the three members to connect with fans and celebrate two decades of music. But when fans looked at who the account was following, they found only five names: G-Dragon, Taeyang, Daesung, their agency YG Entertainment, and, shockingly, T.O.P. Let that sink in. On an official account dedicated to the legacy of BIGBANG, the one person who had left the group under a cloud of scandal, who had announced his retirement, who had said he was done with the group, was right there on the follow list. It was a public invitation for fans to remember him, to talk about him, to wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance. And for those who remember the past, this was not a sweet gesture. It was a wound being reopened. In 2016, T.O.P was indicted for marijuana use and received a suspended prison sentence. The scandal was huge, and it brought shame and disappointment to the group. He later said he wanted to retire from the entertainment industry, and eventually he left BIGBANG as if escaping from something. But then, in December 2024, he quietly came back, hiding behind the massive popularity of Netflix’s “Squid Game” Season 2. Now he was a respected actor again, and the group’s official account was following him like nothing had ever happened. For long-time fans, this was not just confusing. It felt like betrayal.
There is no reason to blame the personal friendship between the artists. They spent years together, practicing, suffering, crying, laughing, and growing up in each other’s presence. That kind of bond does not disappear just because contracts end or public statements are made. Maybe they still meet in private. Maybe they still send each other supportive messages. Maybe they genuinely care about each other’s happiness. That is entirely their own business, and no one has the right to demand they hate each other for the sake of fan expectations. But dragging that friendship into the public sphere, turning it into a spectacle, and using it to generate buzz is a completely different matter. The fans have already received irreparable wounds from T.O.P’s scandal and from his abrupt, messy departure. They have spent twenty years defending the group, loving the members, and standing by them through every storm. They silently endured the shame, the loss, and the endless uncertainty. They stayed loyal to the three members who remained, not because it was easy, but because they believed in something bigger than themselves. And now, to see these three members openly following T.O.P on the anniversary account, to see them posting streaming proofs, to see them liking news posts, to see them smiling in the same visual universe as a man who once dragged the group through the mud, feels like a slap in the face. It is not kindness. It is not generosity. It is a public performance that ignores the deep emotional damage that fans are still carrying.
If you are going to cut ties, then cut them completely. If you are going to leave, then leave with honesty and let everyone heal. But this half-in, half-out approach, this constant teasing of reunion, this endless cycle of hope and disappointment, is pure selfishness. The showy displays of “we are still close” do not comfort fans. They torture them. They give fans a reason to dream again, only to wake up to the same painful reality. T.O.P is no longer in BIGBANG. The three members have moved on, or at least they claim they have. And yet every critical moment, every comeback, every milestone, somehow becomes entangled with the ghost of the past. This is not the way to honor twenty years of history. It is a way to keep fans confused, to keep them hooked, to keep them talking. It is time to stop this cruel game of hope-torture. Let the fans heal. Let the past rest. If there is love between these artists, keep it in private where it belongs. If there is no reunion, then do not pretend there might be one. Because the fans who have stayed this long deserve better than being used as pawns in a constant, painful, and deeply selfish publicity stunt. Stop stirring public confusion by leaning on each other’s names. Let BIGBANG move forward, and let T.O.P move forward, and give the fans the one thing they have never truly received: a clean and honest ending.