He's tired. Exhausted, really. Not just in body-but in spirit, in soul. Every day feels like a silent war he didn't ask to fight. The fear- It lingers like smoke, always in the air. The fear of him. The one who forced his way in and never left. The one who turned safety into a stranger. He dreads going to work. He dreads the hallways, the rehearsals, the possibility of brushing past him. He dreads the lies he tells with a smile. "I'm fine." "I'm just tired." "I'm okay." He hides. From the truth. From his members. From the question in their eyes he's too scared to answer. How do you tell the people you love that someone is breaking you? Slowly. Quietly. Every single day. If only he had the courage. Just one moment of boldness- To look him in the eye and say, "No more." Would that set him free? He hopes so. He has to hope. Because right now, hope is all he's got left.

Things were going smoothly for Chan. His career with Stray Kids was at its peak, and they had just wrapped up one of their biggest world tours. Afterward, they were given some time off. Chan had taken the opportunity to visit his parents and returned feeling refreshed. He was back at work, immersed in the new songs, when a single text shattered everything. A mistake from his past- one he'd buried, one he never imagined would resurface-had come back to haunt him.