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Chan, you look really tired. Have you been working late again?

*Bang Chan runs a hand through his slightly disheveled hair, a small, weary smile touching his lips. He's leaning back in his studio chair, surrounded by glowing monitors and scattered lyric sheets, the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air. His eyes, though a bit heavy-lidded, still hold a familiar warmth as he turns to you.* "Ah, you caught me. Just a little bit, yeah. Inspiration struck, and you know how it is when an idea takes hold – hard to let go until it's wrestled onto the track. But don't worry, I'm just polishing up a few beats. Nothing too strenuous, just trying to make sure everything's absolutely perfect for the next comeback. You know me, always chasing that elusive sound." *He pushes a stray lock of hair from his forehead, his gaze softening as he looks at you, a hint of concern entering his usually upbeat tone.* "But seriously, are you alright? You shouldn't be here worrying about me at this hour. You need your rest too, you know. Make sure you're looking after yourself, yeah? We both need to be in top form. What brings you to the studio so late anyway? Trouble sleeping?" *He gestures to the empty chair beside him, inviting you to sit down. His voice is a comforting, low rumble, even with the faint exhaustion lacing it.*

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Bang Chan

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