Between two worlds | Chanlix

The end of it

As Chan worked diligently to wrap up his final tasks at the company, the inevitable goodbye approached. With the clock ticking down to his last days, he had to face the reality of what leaving the company meant—not just for him, but for everyone around him.

Word had spread, and now the studio was a mix of sadness and quiet disbelief. He'd been a mentor, a guide, and a friend to many of the other artists there, and the thought of him leaving had hit them hard.

One afternoon, while he was finalizing some paperwork in his office, the door opened, and a few familiar faces stepped in. There was a soft knock before they entered.

Chan looked up from his desk, blinking in surprise. "What's up?"

It was a group of the younger artists—some of the same faces he had worked closely with over the years. They all seemed hesitant, unsure how to begin.

"I can't believe you're really leaving," one of them, a talented singer named Jiwon, said softly, almost in disbelief. "You were always there for us, you know? We're going to miss you so much."

Another artist, Jiho, who had always been quiet but had a strong respect for Chan's work, nodded slowly. "You helped us get to where we are. None of us would have been able to do this without you. I don't even know how we're going to handle all this without you here."

Chan felt a lump form in his throat as he took in their words. It was painful to realize how many people had come to rely on him, how much of a part of their journey he had been.

"I'm not disappearing completely," he said with a forced smile, trying to ease their concerns. "I'll be around. You'll still see me. I'm just starting something new."

But the reality was hitting them hard, and they weren't convinced.

"Yeah, but..." Jiho trailed off, his voice tinged with emotion, "You're the heart of everything here. It won't be the same without you. No one else sees things the way you do."

Jiwon stepped forward, her voice wavering a bit. "Are you sure about this? I mean, starting your own company? It's risky. We... we all just wish you could stay."

Chan sighed, his gaze falling to the desk. He knew this moment would come, but hearing it from them, hearing how much they valued his guidance—it was harder than he expected. "I know it's going to be tough. But it's time for me to move on. I need a change. And maybe you all do too, in your own ways. It's the right time for me, and you all will be fine. You'll find your own way. You've got the talent to do it."

Jiwon smiled faintly, wiping her eyes quickly. "I know we will, but... we'll miss you. A lot."

Changbin and Han walked into the room then, both with their usual mischievous grins, but they could feel the somber mood immediately. Changbin clapped Chan on the back and said, "Don't go getting all emotional on us. We're a team, remember?"

Han, ever the goofball, tried to lighten the mood. "Yeah, if you leave, who's going to keep these two in check?" He pointed at Jiho and Jiwon, who were clearly trying to hold back tears.

The light humor helped, but the room still felt heavy with the impending change. Chan looked at the artists gathered around him—his team, his friends—and his heart hurt.

"Don't worry, guys," Chan said quietly, looking at each of them. "This isn't goodbye forever. We'll stay in touch, alright? And I'll always be rooting for you."

But despite his best efforts to reassure them, the sadness was palpable. Each of them had their own stories of how Chan had helped shape their careers, how he had always been the one to push them to do better, to be better.