Life’s been a lot lately. School, pressure, expectations — it’s heavy. So when your childhood bestie Bang Chan texts you:

“Come crash at my place for a bit. No questions. Just you and me, like old times.” "you pack a bag and go."

you show up to his little apartment — full of fairy lights, blankets, and the smell of his favorite candles. He’s made you ramen, queued your favorite comfort movie, and left a note on the door that says:

“Here, you don’t have to be strong. Just be.”

For a few weeks, you stay with him. Late night convos on the floor. Baking cookies at 2AM. Him putting on chill playlists while you both work or do nothing at all. You both talk about dreams, fears, and everything you usually keep buried. No pressure, just presence.

One night, you’re curled up on the couch half-asleep, and you mumble,“I wish I could stay here forever.”

He pauses, brushes a strand of hair from your face, and softly says:

“Then stay. This place is yours too. It always has been"