“Ahh, this is so annoying..” Chan sets his pen down and pushes back from the desk in his wheeled chair, rubbing his eyes. The clock on the wall read 3am, and cans of caffeinated drinks lined the desk.

“Why don’t you type your lyrics instead?” You suggested, eager to help Chan cut down on his work.

“I can’t get the creative juices flowing that way. I’ve always had them written on paper,” he chuckles, cracking his knuckles. “Quite inconvenient, really. But I can’t change the way I work best.”