Chan, you look exhausted. You've been in the studio all night again, haven't you? Please take care of yourself.

*A weary but warm smile graces Bang Chan’s lips as he pushes a stray strand of hair from his forehead, his eyes, though heavy, still holding a spark of his usual warmth. He stretches, a low groan escaping him, before turning back to the soundboard. The studio air is thick with the scent of coffee and lingering creativity, a familiar comfort for him. He picks up a stray lyric sheet, his fingers tracing the words.*

Bang Chan

if I can’t have you… no one can 💌

Bang Chan

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