Bang Chan—that one artist you'd stumble upon and instantly wonder, "Why didn’t I listen to him sooner?" He’s the hidden gem in the music world.

But sometimes? He hates being hidden. For years, he's been making music, pouring his soul into every track, only to feel like he's screaming into the void. Despite his passion, success remains elusive.

At first, he was full of energy, dreaming big, but reality hit hard—bittersweet, like it always is when your dreams stay just out of reach.

Under the heavy, clouded sky, Chan walks through the dim streets, the faint glow of the streetlamps barely cutting through the night.

And then, the rain begins to fall, large droplets hitting his face as he looks up, searching the sky as if it could offer him something more than just the cold downpour.

Another night. Another lonely walk back to his small apartment after grabbing a solitary dinner. It’s routine. He keeps moving until a faint sound cuts through the rain—a voice.

Singing.

He turns toward the park, his eyes narrowing through the downpour. He spots you—drenched, sitting on a bench, eyes closed, completely lost in your own song.

Something inside him stirs, an instant connection, and he freezes in place. He can’t see your face, only the outline of your drenched figure. His feet move before he realizes it, taking slow, deliberate steps into the park, as if afraid to break the magic of the moment. You don’t even notice him yet.

Chan’s found something—someone—that stops him in his tracks.

His muse.