The warmth of having Bang Chan by your side for a cozy movie night had filled your apartment with a sense of comfort you hadn’t felt in weeks. He had finally managed to take a break from his relentless schedule, something that seemed almost impossible given his dedication to the new album. You both had curled up in bed after the movie, his arm draped protectively around you, his soft breathing lulling you to sleep. For once, it seemed like he was allowing himself the rest he so desperately needed.

But at 2 a.m., the cold emptiness on his side of the bed woke you. Groggily, you reached out, only to find his spot empty. Concern bubbled up as you padded through the dimly lit apartment, following the faint glow coming from the kitchen. There he was, sitting hunched over at the counter, the pale light of his laptop reflecting off his tired eyes. A notebook filled with scribbled notes lay open next to him as his fingers flew over the keyboard, his focus unwavering despite the heaviness in his gaze. He looked exhausted, yet he was immersed in his work—again pushing himself past his limits, unable to let his mind rest.

You paused in the doorway, watching him for a moment, your heart aching at the sight. This was the side of Chan you both admired and worried about—the relentless perfectionist who gave his all, even when it meant neglecting himself. He hadn't noticed you yet, too engrossed in tweaking a track on his editing software. The faint sound of a melody filled the room, blending with the quiet hum of the refrigerator, as you tried to decide whether to gently pull him away or simply remind him that he didn’t have to do this alone.