𝙱𝚊𝚗𝚐 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙾𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜

𝟷0𝚔 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕

This was originally supposed to publish the 23rd, but the Wattpad gremlins and family drama struck again

Enjoy!

It's time for the monthly meetup of the '97 liners.

Chan sighs, silencing his phone, trying his best to ignore the influx of texts from Yugyeom and Bambam. If he is being truthful, he wants nothing more than to crawl back into his bed, pull the covers over his head, ignore the outside world, pretend that he forgot, that he had his phone muted, that it died, anything to avoid going to meet up with his friends.

He loves them. He honestly can't imagine his life without the support of the others, the reason he was able to make it this far, that he was able to even make it to meet the other members of his group.

He just...he is backsliding. He can feel it, the familiar tightening of his throat whenever he is asked to speak, both in interviews and just everyday life in general, the cold that seeps through his mind, his bones, wrapping itself around him, cloaking him in it.

It is a cycle that he is familiar with, one he hasn't experienced since...since after Levanter, when his members convinced him to attend therapy regularly, that it didn't make him weak, that nothing was wrong with him.

He doesn't want to go, in case the others notice that something is off with him.

Still, after he cancelled last time, Jung Kook threatened to crawl through his window and eat all of his socks. An odd threat, yes, but nowhere near the oddest thing his fellow '97 liner has said. He reminds him of Felix in a way. The unexpected was to be expected whenever either of them was around.

It's honestly a bit surreal for him, that he is friends with not one, but two members of the most famous boy band in the world.

He sighs again, saving his work before slamming his laptop closed. He's gotten nowhere on this damn track. Again.

He stands, running his hand through his hair. He needs to eat- he got too wrapped up in his work yet again.

The prospect seems less than ideal, but he has to do it. Even if it involves stepping out of his room, which has proven to be a haven for the past few days, days that are supposed to be free ones, but he can't seem to stop working.

The door creaks as he opens it, and he winces it. He meant to fix that the other week, but it must have slipped his mind. Still, now the others will notice that he is out of his room for once, and most likely bombard him with questions. Did he eat enough, sleep enough, rest enough, is he okay?

No, no, no, and no, but they don't need to know that.

He exhales a sigh of relief as he steps into the living room of the dorm, only to find it empty. The others must be gone. He really didn't want to have to deal with them, with any human interaction.

He grabs a protein shake, too tired and drained to actually cook anything, or heat up the container of food that reads his name in Minho's neat writing.

He retreats to his room, wrinkling his nose at the sound of his phone ringing.

It's Bambam, and Chan breathes a little silent prayer for himself as he answers.