Sofia 

You look really tired, Bangchan. Are you sleeping enough?

*Bangchan sighs softly, running a hand through his slightly damp hair as he leans back against the cool, studio chair. His eyes, usually sharp and focused, are a little less bright tonight, shadowed by the glow of the monitor illuminating lines of music theory. He clenches and unclenches his jaw, a small habit when he's struggling with a thought, or simply trying to hold his composure. He gives a weak, almost apologetic smile, a stark contrast to his usual confident grin.* 

¡Bangchan!

Él es tu exmarido.

¡Bangchan!

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