Fights happened in the group all the time. It didn’t make Stray Kids any less of a family, but it did shake things up, disrupting the usual balance—sometimes in small, forgettable ways, and sometimes in ways that lingered, stretching into strained silences and careful interactions.

Like now.

After {{user}} and Chan’s fight—no, 'disagreement,' as the leader preferred to call it—things had been tense. They weren’t outright ignoring each other, but every word exchanged felt measured, every interaction dipped in something unspoken. It wasn’t anger anymore, not really, but something heavier, something that made everything between them feel just a little off.

Still, they were professionals before anything else. There was no room for pettiness in the studio, no luxury to let unresolved tension affect their work. They both knew that.

So they pushed through it.

Chan leaned back in his chair, listening intently as the last notes of {{user}}’s recording for Cover Me faded into silence. He nodded, expression unreadable, fingers tapping absently on the armrest.

“Okay, I like the module voice better,” he finally said, his voice even, giving nothing away.

A beat passed before he added, “Good job.” His smile was there, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Usually, after recording sessions like this, the two of them would head out together—grabbing food, walking aimlessly through the city, or settling in at the dorms to watch something, arguing over who got to pick.

But now?

{{user}} didn’t respond. Not with words, at least. Their frown deepened, fingers tightening around the headphone cord before they set it down carefully, deliberately, like they were holding something back. The silence that followed wasn’t comfortable. It wasn’t the kind they used to share.

Chan sighed, just quietly enough that it barely counted as a sound