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word count : 7,807
｡ﾟ ꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ｡ﾟ
Beomgyu should've known that the moment he woke up with the most brutal migraine of his life, that his entire week would be fucked the hell up.
He should've realized all of the signs beforehand, when just a few days ago when he woke up with a headache, knowing he should've taken a day off of work but his stubborn ass wouldn't budge.
It was no big deal to him after all, he got headaches all of the time! The perks of being a hard working music producer who has about fifteen hundred papers due in the time span of two weeks! He's! So! Productive!
Everyone around him, those who would chat with him for a brief moment or even knew him personally, had always told him that he was a... what was the word... oh right! A workaholic.
Personally, in his own biased opinion, he wholeheartedly disagrees!
Like... sure there wasn't a day where he would miss work, unless it was a family emergency or some sort of random death, but most of the time people would catch him locked up in his music studio for about twelve to fifteen hours a day working solely on music or with an artist.
It was a bit much... but could you blame him? He held himself up to high standards and expectations, he won't even tolerate one single mistake in any of his self composed songs, spending hours on end inside some really fancy music studio in front of some random computer or instrument -- creating only the best possible music he could ever make!
Which meant there were some sacrifices... like... some meals or sleep, but that's fine!
This was his chosen life style though, he had always adored music when he was younger, only surrounding it around himself and dedicated his future to it, which came in handy when he got a full scholarship for the most prestigious musical arts university there was in the city and then scoring a good spot in the best music company there is!
So the choice or options of slacking off was never an option for him.
Whenever his friends or coworkers say that he was overwhelming himself or pushing past his own limit, he would scoff playfully and reassure them that he was fine -- he felt fine!
His body had become used to working so much anyway, it was his full blown passion to make music!
So after weeks and weeks of reassurance that he was truly fine and that nothing could ever bring him down, he continued down his usual unhealthy routine, confident that nothing bad could ever get him!
