Mischief Managed (Stray Kids Oneshots)

The Weight of the World | Bang Chan

It was late, far past midnight, when you found yourself walking down the quiet halls of the practice building. You had stayed behind to finish some personal work, and the others had long since left for the night. But as you passed the open studio door, you heard the familiar sounds of someone still inside—soft music playing in the background, and the rhythmic click of a pen against a notebook.

You peeked inside and spotted Chan, his back turned to you, focused on the pages in front of him. His brows furrowed, and his lips were pursed in concentration as he scribbled something down. His usual energetic demeanor seemed absent, replaced by a quieter, more somber version of him that you rarely saw. The sight made your heart ache a little.

He had always been the kind of person who shouldered the weight of the world, always taking on responsibility, making sure everyone was okay. But you knew that the weight wasn't always easy to carry. There were moments when even Chan, the leader, needed someone to lean on.

"Chan?" you called out softly, stepping into the room.

He startled for a moment, turning around quickly before letting out a small, surprised laugh. "Oh, hey," he greeted, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "I didn't hear you come in."

You couldn't help but notice how tired he looked, despite the warmth of his greeting. His eyes were heavy, the circles under them more pronounced than usual, and his shoulders seemed weighed down by an invisible burden.

"Why are you still here?" you asked, walking closer to him. "You should be resting. Everyone else is already gone."

He hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering between his notebook and your face. "Yeah... I just have a lot on my mind, I guess," he said quietly. "There's a lot to think about, and I don't want to leave anything unfinished."

You nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. Being the leader of Stray Kids was no easy task, and while he always made sure to be there for his members, he rarely allowed himself the same grace. The responsibility he carried weighed on him more than he would admit, and it was clear that he needed someone to help him unload, if only for a moment.

"You don't always have to do everything on your own, you know," you said gently, taking a seat next to him. "You don't have to carry the entire world on your shoulders."

Chan looked at you, his expression unreadable for a brief moment, before he let out a long, tired sigh. "I know. It's just hard sometimes, you know? There's so much I want to do, so much I want to make sure is perfect. For everyone."

"Chan," you began, your voice soft but firm. "You're human. You can't be everything to everyone, all the time. You're doing more than enough. And your members? They look up to you, yes, but they also want you to take care of yourself. You're allowed to lean on them, too."

He fell silent for a moment, his fingers tracing the edges of the notebook absentmindedly. The weight of his thoughts hung in the air like a thick fog, and you could tell he was struggling to accept what you were saying. It was difficult for him to let go, even when it came to the people who cared about him most.

"But what if they need me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "What if I let them down?"

You shook your head, placing a hand gently on his. "You won't. You never will. You've already given so much of yourself to them, and they appreciate you more than you know. But you're not a machine, Chan. You're allowed to take breaks, to step back when it gets too overwhelming."

Chan's gaze softened as he looked down at your hand resting on his. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that he didn't often show, especially not in front of his members. His walls, built from years of being the strong leader, were slowly starting to crumble.

"I just want to be the best for them," he admitted. "I want to be the kind of leader who can always be there, who can help guide them no matter what. But sometimes I feel like I'm not enough. Like I'm falling short."

The words hung heavy between you both, and for a moment, you were silent, letting the weight of them settle. You could see the exhaustion in his face, the toll that his dedication had taken on him. It wasn't just physical fatigue—it was emotional, too. He gave so much of himself that there was hardly any room left for him to just be Chan, the person who needed care just as much as the next person.

"You are enough," you said finally, your voice steady and confident. "You've always been enough. You don't have to be perfect, Chan. You're allowed to have your flaws, your bad days, your moments of doubt. That doesn't take away from the amazing person you are."

Chan's eyes met yours again, the soft glow of the studio lights reflecting in them. For the first time in a while, he looked like he might finally be able to breathe again, as if your words had given him permission to release some of the weight he'd been carrying.

"Thank you," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't think I say it enough, but I really appreciate you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

You smiled softly, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "You don't have to do anything alone, Chan. I'm always here."

He gave you a tired but genuine smile in return. It wasn't the bright, confident smile he usually wore, but it was real, and that was enough for now.

"Maybe I can take that advice for once," he said, leaning back in his chair with a small, relieved sigh. "I think it's time I actually take a break, huh?"

"Definitely," you said with a laugh. "You deserve it."

With one last lingering glance at his notebook, Chan finally closed it, setting it aside. He looked at you with a soft expression, his gratitude evident in the way he held your gaze. "Thanks for being here," he murmured.

You nodded, standing up to stretch. "Anytime, Chan. Anytime."

As he stood up to head toward the door, his step seemed lighter, the weight of the world just a little bit easier to carry. And as he gave you one last smile before walking out, you knew that, for tonight at least, he had found a moment of peace.

4o mini