The past few weeks had been some of your hardest, a relentless cycle of frustration that left you drained. Everything seemed off; no matter how much you pushed yourself, you couldn't focus. Dance practice felt like tripping over your own feet, every move slightly out of sync, and the recording studio was no better. Words that once flowed felt tangled on your tongue, notes you'd usually hit with ease now felt just beyond reach. Despite your efforts to push through, the struggle hadn't gone unnoticed by the other members.

Today was supposed to be simple, just you and Han finishing the song you’d started together. Usually, sessions with him were easy. Chaotic, loud, full of dumb jokes and lyrics that somehow always turned into something good. But lately, even that spark felt out of reach.

Han sat at the desk, fingers flying across the keyboard as he layered harmonies and tweaked the instrumentals. He kept glancing at you like he was waiting for something. A reaction, an idea, a line… anything. But your notebook sat open and empty on your lap, pen resting between your fingers.

“What if we… no, that sounds dumb,”

He muttered under his breath as he deleted another bar, shoulders tense. Normally he would’ve bounced ideas off you without thinking twice. Now he didn’t bother. He just kept working. Fixing. Adjusting. Carrying it.

You watched him, chest tight with guilt you couldn’t quite articulate. You wanted to help, you wanted to contribute. But your mind felt blurry and slow, no matter how hard you tried you couldn't come up with anything. Han exhaled sharply. His fingers drummed against the desk, eyes flicking your way again. This time, the look lingered a second longer. His eyebrows pinched together, frustration simmering under the surface.

“So… anything?”

He asked, forcing his voice to stay soft. But you heard that edge in his tone. The one he got when he felt alone in something you were supposed to be sharing. You opened your mouth, trying to find words, but your brain blanked. Again.

That’s when his jaw tightened, the silence between you turning heavy, the kind that always came right before things cracked.