Chapter Text
Chan stared blankly into space. The glow of his computer screen, where one of the audio files he'd been using to keep himself occupied was still open, didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. Slowly, he pressed his palms against his eyes. Aside from the brief moments when exhaustion made him doze off wherever he happened to be, he hadn't really slept. He wasn't even sure staying awake was a choice anymore. It felt like his body had forgotten how to sleep at this point. When the throbbing behind his eyes became unbearable, his arms dropped limply to his sides. He wanted to check what time it was, but the studio was so dark he couldn't even make out anything more than a few steps away. He couldn't stand being in the studio any other way. It felt as though every corner-
New message from Changbin.
Are you at the studio?
Chan let out a slow breath before replying. Of course he was. He'd barely left the place for days. The moment his answer was delivered, a muffled notification chimed from the other side of the door. The door was only a few steps away, yet standing up felt like dragging his entire body across the floor. His limbs barely had the strength to move. "If you're already outside the door..." he muttered, steadying himself as the sudden movement made his head spin. He pulled the door open. "...why bother texting me?"
He didn't really want Changbin coming inside. Even talking was exhausting. All he wanted was to sink back down where he stood and stop moving. Apparently, Changbin had other plans. With little effort, he nudged Chan aside and stepped into the room.
"Hyung, it's pitch black in here-ah!"
The loud bang as Changbin walked straight into the desk sent another wave of pain through Chan's head. Changbin yanked the blinds open, letting the city's dim glow spill into the room. Passing headlights swept across the desk he'd just collided with.
The studio looked miserable.
Empty ramen containers littered the desk alongside unwashed coffee mugs that had begun to sour the air and crushed energy drink cans. It didn't take Changbin long to realize the thing crinkling beneath his foot was a sheet of paper or that the entire room was covered in torn pages.
"How much caffeine have you been drinking, hyung?" He crushed one of the cans in his hand.
"Are you trying to give yourself a heart attack?"
Chan wanted to answer. He wanted to scream that he'd been losing his mind for days. That he felt like he was drowning. That the sleeplessness had drained every ounce of strength from his body. That he wanted to abandon everything and run away. But he didn't even have the energy for that. He merely waved a hand and sighed.
"It's late, Changbin. Go home."
"What the fuck are you doing, hyung?" Changbin gestured around the room.
"Look at this place. Look at yourself. I thought you just threw yourself into work again, but then Han came to me saying nothing's ready. What the hell have you been doing? Haven't you spent your entire life working for this?"
Changbin kept talking but Chan caught maybe every third word.
Work.
Han.
Ready.
The rest blurred together beneath the ringing in his ears. Changbin's voice slowly faded into the background as his gaze drifted to the studio door. He checked that lock three times already. Maybe four, it didn't matter. Every sound from the hallway made his stomach tighten sooner or later, one of those footsteps would stop at his door. Someone could be outside that door this entire time. Listening. Waiting. Changbin shouldn’t be here, it was too dangerous. He had to get him to leave somehow, but thinking itself was becoming harder as his vision continued to blur.
"Hyung." No response.
"Are you even listening?" He wasn't. His attention had already shifted back to every possible way this could go wrong. Curtains were open and anyone outside could see in. Or maybe they weren't watching from outside at all, maybe they were waiting. Waiting for Changbin to leave, waiting for Chan to make one mistake-
"Hey!" Changbin didn't like the way Chan's eyes kept losing focus. He gave him a small shake before gripping both of his shoulders firmly.
"I know there's something you're not telling me." His voice softened.
"I can't stand seeing you like this. Whatever it is, we'll deal with it together. You know I'd follow you all the way to the grave if I had to."
"I got myself into something bad, Changbin." Chan lowered his gaze.
"And I'm never dragging any of you into it. Just... give me some time. I'll pull myself together before semester starts."
Anger simmered inside Changbin. He had no idea what kind of trouble Chan was talking about, but how could he keep something like this from them and expect him to simply walk away? Still, he knew his hyung. If Chan had decided he wasn't going to talk, then nothing would make him change his mind. Changbin let out a long sigh.
"You've got two weeks before semester starts, hyung." His eyes met Chan's.
"If you don't keep your promise..." A faint, humorless smile tugged at his lips.
"...I'll be the trouble you have to worry about."
He wasn't expecting an answer. Without giving Chan the chance to argue, he headed for the door. Halfway there, he suddenly turned back, stuffed the trash scattered around the room into a convenience store bag lying on the floor, and stormed out of the studio.
He was furious, worried, and completely helpless. The fact that he couldn't fix whatever was going wrong was driving him insane. He hurled the bag toward the dumpster outside. It split open on impact, spilling garbage across the pavement. Oh, great. Clicking his tongue, he crouched down to pick everything up. One of the crumpled sheets of paper caught his eye, it was covered in nearly illegible handwriting that he assumed was a page of lyrics Chan had thrown away because he didn't like them.
Then he froze.
“They're going to kill me.”