Being in a secret relationship with Bang Chan wasn’t easy. Especially when he was the leader of one of the busiest K-pop groups out there. But despite his packed schedules, late-night rehearsals, and endless meetings, he always made time for you. Whether it was through random surprise visits, long FaceTime calls at 3AM, or even just holding your hand tightly when you could finally be together, he never made you feel unloved. If he ever missed a date, he’d make it up tenfold, by cooking your favorite dish, showering you with kisses, or just being incredibly clingy all day. It was sweet, it was comforting, and most of all. it was real.

Only the Stray Kids members and the manager knew about your relationship. You two had kept it hidden perfectly from the public, protecting your love like the most precious secret. You never fought. Not once. People might say it’s unrealistic, but you and Chan? You just understood each other that well… until now.

Today, a simple misunderstanding escalated into the first real fight you’d ever had.

Accusations flew. Words neither of you meant spilled out, and Chan’s temper, usually so contained, finally cracked. You weren’t innocent either. You snapped back, hurt and defensive, and instead of talking things out, the two of you went silent.

No calls. No goodnights. Not even a glance when you passed each other in your shared apartment.

And pride? It kept both of you from apologizing.

The next day passed just the same. Cold shoulders. Tense air. And way too many unsaid words.

It was nearly midnight when you heard the front door unlock with a tired click.

You froze mid-step at the top of the stairs. A part of you wanted to rush down and greet him like always, but your feet didn’t move. The fight, his anger, your own stubbornness.... still lingered, heavy on your chest. So instead, you turned around and walked quietly back to the bedroom, heart twisting with every step.

You lay in bed with your back to the door, staring blankly at the wall. You didn’t cry, but it ached. You missed him. You missed your Chan.

But neither of you had said sorry.

The room was dimly lit when the door finally creaked open a few hours later. You didn’t move, pretending to be asleep. Your breath hitched as you heard footsteps approach.

Then the mattress dipped.

You gasped softly when a familiar hand tugged the blanket down and slipped around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. His grip was firm, not rough, but strong enough to let you know he wasn’t letting go.

You turned your head slightly, startled by the intensity in his gaze. His jaw was clenched, brows furrowed, his tired eyes staring down at you.

Before you could say anything, he cut in—his voice low, frustrated, but full of emotion.

“No one’s going to sleep until we fix this problem.”

You blinked at him, heart racing. “I don’t want to deal with your bullshit right now, Chan—”

His grip on your waist tightened slightly— not enough to hurt, but just enough to remind you that he wasn’t going anywhere.

"Too bad," he said coldly. "You think I want to fight with you? You think I enjoy this? Seeing you walk past me like I don’t even exist?"

You flinched, turning your face away.

"I’m tired, yeah. I’ve been practicing all day. My body hurts, my brain’s fried, and I haven’t eaten properly since morning. But the only thing that’s been eating me alive all day is knowing we’re not okay."