woohyun’s instinctive answer to seungcheol wants to be impossible, you’re not boring! but he stops himself before he can get it out. he doesn’t think seungcheol’s boring at all, but he knows its hard to see it that way when you’re the person you’re talking about. his teeth worry his lip, and he smiles, chuckling at the other. “well, if you are boring,” he says after a moment of thought, raising his brows as he pauses. “the others will help you– the hosts or the other guests. the ones i’ve met at least have all been kinda and helpful.” it’s definitely a little daunting, especially if you’re a little out of your element.
woohyun’s smile widens when seungcheol speaks, nodding his head. “yeah! it’s a little awkward at first, but you just got to find your footing! once you do, it’s smooth sailing. i promise.” if seungcheol can talk like he does with woohyun, then he’s absolutely sure the other has nothing to worry about.
“well i am cheesy,” woohyun admits with a laugh. shaking his head, he smiles happily towards the other, reaching up to scratch at his cheek. his smile falters a bit to the end of his words. “i think you’re very exciting. both as seungcheol and as convex prhyme! i think you’re doing a great job as is.”
woohyun blinks, and then he snorts, falling into soft laughter. “you troublemakers,” he muses, shaking his head. “i don’t think you’d get in trouble…the manager might watch you guys a bit more.” woohyun pauses, tilting his head. “i think the fans would find it pretty funny though.” he grins.
seungcheol is grateful to still be on the younger side of the group. he’s somewhere around the middle now with all the new additions this year, but there’s still a clear and comfortable gap between the advice and experience of their older members and himself, one that he relies on perhaps a little more than he otherwise should. roughly a year and a half since debut, he should realistically be comfortable and confident in his position both, as woohyun says, as himself and a member of convex, but there’s still always that lingering, nagging voice in the back of his head that he’s just not good enough yet. it’s promising, though, that these days he often feels like he might one day be, rather than believing he’ll always trail behind.
“that’s true, I guess that’s their job, really...” it seems silly now that he thinks about it — and with so many members, it’s easier to not be as entertaining, because someone else will help pick up the pieces. he already knows he lights up when he talks to the other members, so surely it should be no different here, with him becoming more interesting, more engaging when encouraged by someone else. “I suppose it’s natural, too, for everyone to have their own individual strengths and weaknesses. talking for things like this might be my weakness, but I like to think I make up for it in rapping, at least.”
he hums, then laughs along. woohyun always seems to be so bright and warm and seungcheol doesn’t know if he does it on purpose to have this homely affect on others as he does on him, but he’s thankful for it regardless. “thank you. it probably sounds silly, but that does mean a lot.” he smiles, cheeks rosy. “hey! I’m not a troublemaker, I said no! I didn’t want to risk it all for some cold fries!”
it feels like they barely have time to sleep these days, let alone spend actual time together. sure, they’re almost always all together, only apart for a handful of solo schedules and because all twelve of them can’t fit into one car, but spending time together driving to a radio show isn’t the same as settling down with a movie in the dorm, or cooking together. even now, in their dressing room waiting for their final camera rehearsal before their performance later, he’s kind of lonely. with a pout, he slides into the space beside changkyun on one of the sofas, careful not to wrinkle his clothes or face the stylists’ wrath.
“what are you up to?” he asks curiously, a tilt of his head punctuating his question. “I’m bored, and we haven’t really sat down together for a while. I’m always too tired when we get back to the dorm.” there’s a guilty weight on his heart but he doesn’t mention it. instead, he sighs briefly before brightening up, another enquiry on the tip of his tongue. “how is your family? have you heard from them recently? mum asked how you were when I spoke to her yesterday; I think she’d rather talk to any of you than her own son. hmph.” he scoffs, propping his chin up on his palm. “I told her you were doing well. she said you looked well in your photos and broadcasts— I think she follows you on instagram. is that weird? it’s probably weird.” he’s rambling, but changkyun has never seemed to mind.
october 6th, 2020: convex’s last don’t wanna cry stage at mtv show.
it feels weirdly symbolic for their last stage to be the same show on which they received this comeback’s first win. he knows it’s all a healthy mix of coincidence and the determination of consta that had things work out this way but he still lets the notion energise him for the best goodbye stage he can muster. he feels like a broken record, reminding himself constantly to do everything he can, to give everything his all, but by the end of a promotion cycle, he truthfully needs it.
they only perform ‘don’t wanna cry’ this time, have been for the past three weeks. his knees feel numb from all the kneeling for the choreography, though he had believed he’d become accustomed to it during the practice stage. maybe it’s the added fatigue from everything else — the television show appearances, the radio shows, the long days sitting in waiting rooms and going through constant make-up retouches. exhaustion is always deeply settled into his bones, but promoting is a different type of tiredness. he spends most of his time backstage yawning, longing for a nap but knowing he’ll have difficulty drifting off with so many people around.
he can never tell if the last day goes faster or slower than all the others. they’ve been promoting for four weeks but it feels like four days with how the days all blur into one. some of the day feels like a hundred hours long, yet at others, the minutes pass with each single blink.
goodbye stages are never as sad as he’d expected them to be. it probably should be bittersweet, but all he can think of is all the rest they’ll soon be able to get. after all, it’s not as if this is the end. they’ll perform each comeback’s title again, probably consistently at concerts and special stages for the rest of their career, and they’ll release another new album or single in due time. it’s a goodbye for now, not forever. he does get a little emotional as they bow to everyone who’s looked after them for their promotion weeks, but he wouldn’t be him if he didn’t.
it’s a relief to finally wipe off the make-up and change out of the more formal stage clothes and into his pyjamas after a well deserved ( but admittedly short; it’s hard sharing only a handful of bathrooms between so many people ) shower. it’s a relief to be done with another round of promotions without a hitch. it’s been two years almost, but he still fears the worst deep in the back of his mind after the wet stage at their debut. he still fears the worst after losing members almost every album. but now he can finally breathe again, let out a sigh of relief as his head hits the pillow and he’s out like a light.
september 9th, 2020: convex on kiss the radio.
& september 12th, 2020: convex on idol radio.
radio shows should be easier, but with twelve of them cramming into tiny studios, seungcheol feels a little like sardines lined up in their tins. they often crowd around a limited number of microphones, half the group behind the other, almost unintentionally discouraged from speaking up. idol radio is a little different especially; with all that extra space for cover dances and performances, he feels like he can really breathe.
one benefit of a lot of members, however, is that there’s almost no pressure on him, as someone who isn’t as confident in the variety setting, to hold the show together. the hosts and the other convex boys always do their best to include the quieter members, but there’s a difference between asking him what he thinks of their new song and asking him to entertain an audience of who knows how many for an hour straight. seungcheol doesn’t think he could even entertain himself for that long these days, not unless it was the first half of a star wars movie.
( does practice count as ‘entertainment’? he doesn’t think so. he loves performing, but it is still technically work. )
since his first solo appearance, though, he’s gotten a little more outspoken. it’s terrifying standing on stage by yourself, but the nod to his roots had been an immense comfort. settling in slowly but surely, he’s able to build his confidence as he goes, rather than throwing himself in at the deep end — and hopefully his stint on ‘king of masked singer’ ( which he’s also asked about on both occasions and happily and readily rambles about for a couple minutes each time, stutter almost entirely absent ) and more recently, his time with seonghwa on ‘hello counsellor’ are a sign of more good things to come, a sign that sphere believes in him a little more to hold himself without eleven brothers at his side.
performing their own songs, especially in a more relaxed environment, is always a delight, though. he can comfortably say he hasn’t disliked a convex song thus far, even if their current one is the furthest from his usual taste. the important thing for him is that he likes his lines, because as long as he can pull those off ( and the choreography but he’s long since accepted that he’s always going to have a love-hate relationship with dancing ) then he’s set. they’re a team — everyone brings their best for their role and responsibilities and all together, it falls into place. the pressure stretches across all their shoulders.
the only drawback is how it busies up more days on their promotion schedule, though he’ll surely make up for it with how fast he’ll drift off when his head hits the pillow later each night.
It’s been forever since Minhee spent time with one of her favorite Convex members, she tries not to have favorites but how she is not be the proudest of Seungcheol!? He’s really came far, seeing him shine up on stage being loved by many fans to remembering meeting him for the first time where he was shy stuttering boy who tend to doubt his our abilities thinking it wouldn’t anyone favorites. The picnic was the perfect time to finally spend some actual quality time with him instead exchanging the odd messages over texts. Minhee making sure the food was arranged nicely on the table simple finger food so it wouldn’t be too much of hassle, she caught Seungcheol arrival in the corner of her eye. The older female happily squeal walking quickly over to the idol capturing him in a big hug without no warning, she probably startled him half to dead since last time she was recall he was little bit of scared cat too but who knows things can change.
“Cheolie!! You are here! I’m so happy you could make it! I feel like it’s been forever since I seen you in a flesh, only like on the tv or the computer screen but not in person. I’m very proud on how you are blooming in Convex! You are really doing great…but on real level…” from excited happy tone she quickly switched to concerning motherly tone towards the end, “Are you doing ok?? There is been a lot going on, you’ve been extremely busy. Have you been taking care of yourself?!!” she really wants to know he’s doing okay in general since she cares about her friends. Seungcheol is like her little brother wanting him to succeed but most importantly be happy as that is most important thing out of everything in this world.
He’s initially surprised by the news that Sphere would be holding their own picnic for its idols after it was decided they couldn’t go to the one at Yeouido Hangang Park. He’s not surprised, however, hearing who had planned it all — who else but Jiyeon, the sweetest social butterfly in all of Samsung’s companies? It felt sometimes like she literally knew everyone who passed her in the corridors and maybe she does, but that doesn’t make Seungcheol feel any less special to be one of them. Jiyeon has a way of making everyone who speaks to her feel like they’re the important and he’s always adored her for it because it’s so easy for him to feel like he isn’t good enough. But he does have to admit that sometimes she has more energy than he can keep up with, especially with their long practice hours at the moment. However, it’s easier to forget all of that with a flash of her welcoming smile, bone crushing hug and barely any chance to get a word in edgeways.
“Wow, uh, hi to you, too!” He finally blurts in pleasant shock when he gets a moment. “I’m here, yes. I couldn’t miss a chance to see you and de-stress.” His own smile is gentle, warm. “It has been a while, but I’m glad to hear you’ve been watching our videos! Every view counts!” He teases, continuing with a playful lightness to his voice. “Thank you, really. It’s good to know I’m making someone other than my parents’ proud. They kind of have to say it, you know?” Then, he laughs. “I’m okay, I’m okay! I promise. I’m working hard, but definitely still taking care of myself. I have to set a good example for our youngest members, right? And I don’t want to worry anyone either. How are you doing? You debuted! With a solo, nonetheless! How does it feel? All of CONVEX are so proud of you, too.”
Today’s CULTWO SHOW featured the current hit boy group CONVEX. They stopped by the radio show to promote their fourth mini-album ‘RIGHT:WE’ and the title track ’DON’T WANNA CRY’. The song quickly rose up the charts and already awarded them a music show win. They shared some stories and their feelings about having a successful comeback.
WHAT DO YOU THINK ? SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS HERE ! // *
september 5th, 2020: seungcheol & seonghwa visit ‘hello counsellor’.
first concern, ‘my sister is evil’: full episode to air september 21st.
TW SUICIDAL THOUGHTS IN VIDEO AND REFERENCED BELOW
there’s a lot of inner turmoil when his appearance on the show is first revealed to him. on one hand, he’s reminded of all the times he’s listened sincerely to the other members, or to changkyun and sehun even before convex. he’s, by textbook definition, a ‘good listener’, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s a good advice-giver. keeping an open ear and a shoulder clear to cry on is a lot more manageable than articulating his usually jumbled up thoughts into sentences that could affect another person’s life. it’s easier to let someone know they’re not alone than to tell them what you might do, or what you think they could do, in a situation you aren’t experiencing.
but on the other, he thinks the one thing he’s always prided himself on, always thought was his biggest ( and perhaps at times only ) merit, is his gentle heart.
who better to give advice than someone who makes every decision as to make everyone around him comfortable and safe? who better to give advice than someone who rarely ever gets into fights because he keeps his patience well? it obviously can and does happen, but once every so often versus every month or every week is a stark difference. he doesn’t know what concerns they’ll have for the episode he’s on, maybe he won’t be able to relate to any of it, but the least he can do is try — show love and care and sympathy. as terrible as it sounds, he supposes no one’s expecting an idol to be a king of advice. they’re performers at the end of the day, but beneath that, they are still, of course, human.
after a brief introduction, they settle down for the first of the three concerns. it’s a letter from a little girl, only eleven, and before they even get into it, he already feels his heart clench. at that age, no one should feel so troubled to write into a show like this. her little sister drives her crazy with stress and it’s easy to think initially that it’s just sibling rivalry. he’s an only child but he’s seen it before with friends, how they’ll scrap with one another even in their adolescence or, worse, adulthood. however, as the host continues to read, he wonders if there’s more to it than that.
jiyun is so cute that he can’t help but coo when she comes down the slide and into the ball pit. she tells her stories with so much hurry that even when the other hosts chuckle at her choice of words, his eyes soften. he tries to remind himself that there’s two sides to every story but the things she says, the way she’s so fired up already makes him side with her immediately, but he sits quietly as the other guests ask her questions, what surprised her the most or upset her the most when her sister changed.
“‘I’m in a bad mood’, where did you learn to say that?”
when jiyun laughs, he can’t help but join. she adds, “my mum always says that,” and it strikes a familiar chord in him, his hand coming up to cover his laughter. only seconds later, they meet her little sister, who boldly admits it’s all true, that she knows it’s wrong. he wonders momentarily how someone could already be so shameless at such a young age, but she cuts his thoughts off with a confession that she has started fights herself before, too. he’s already getting emotional by the time her little sister is starting to tear up, but again, it feels like a rollercoaster as her insistence that something in her older sister that has changed is how she acts cute now.
( is that such a crime? )
he can’t relate to the informality issue, but the second he hears her wish to be an only child, that she feels like dying, that she’s lonely, his heart shatters. the host jokes that it’s menopause, but he can’t even crack a smile because no one, let alone a child that young, should feel that way. it almost makes him angry, but he reserves it until they can speak to the parents, at least. he doesn’t have much of a full picture yet, as much as he can feel that something is wrong.
“did you know it was this serious between the girls?” they ask, and in a show of true colours, the parents laugh as their father admits he had no idea. seungcheol’s parents, much like most parents, hadn’t always had all the time in the world for him growing up. they worked full time jobs, both before and after they opened the music store, even if the latter did mean they were always close to home. however, they had always made a conscious and careful effort to know his feelings and thoughts. if he was struggling, they would notice. if he was happy, they would see it in his eyes. but the way their father says it is so nonchalant, like it’s normal to just let your kids fight and never wonder why or what you could do to help. there’s a moment of retribution when he says he tries not to take sides, but their mother immediately ruins it by reinforcing what jiyun had already told everyone — that that simply isn’t true, that she physically bumps their heads together to discipline them, that she’s grown used to letting them fight.
“can someone please host the show?” the host asks when she begins to cry, and seungcheol almost gets up to offer, just to wrap the little girl in his arms for comfort. it’s hard, when they ask her again about her darkest thoughts. he finally cracks, but thankfully if anyone notices, it isn’t pointed out, because he doesn’t want any attention to shift to him at all. this is a conversation that needs to be had between jiyun and her parents, even if unfortunately, it has to happen on television.
( he can almost guarantee the cameras will show it, though, because a tear from anyone is a heartstring pulled in the hearts of those sitting on their sofas watching at home. )
it’s all going well until he hears what the other mothers she’d sought advice from told her to do — and worse, that she’d actually done it. rightfully, the other guests speak up, say it’s too harsh, act in disbelief, and seungcheol can’t help but add in a gasped, “that’s a-abhorrent,” before she continues. when he can get a word in edgeways, he throws in his two cents even if he’s typically more timid. what surprises him most, though he only realises it when he’s done, is that he doesn’t stutter once.
“but telling her that to scare her into not saying it again doesn’t mean that she won’t feel it again. it’s not about it making you sad hearing it; she’s sad feeling it and that feeling is obviously still there, just now you’ll never know about it and won’t be able to give her the support she needs to get through it.” it’s no wonder she feels so lonely with a mother around that seems so unwilling to understand. his own mother had never been that great at sympathising with anyone. she thrives on the balance of cool and collected, every tiny aspect of her life organised to stay in control. but when seungcheol came to her crying ( when he was younger and now, he’s never been shy to admit he’s a crybaby ), she would offer a warm embrace and stroke his hair until he calmed down or fell asleep against her shoulder. his mother isn’t perfect, no one’s parents are, but there’s a difference between those who try and those who don’t.
the icing on the cake is their parents’ gaming habits. they’re shameless about it, laugh when their eleven year old says it makes her feel lonely, argue when she says she has to work to her mother’s gaming schedule to get to talk to her about her struggles. he almost wishes he were on the show alone so he could cut in whenever he wants, but he holds back whilst jiyun raises another of her concerns and an older guest, lee hyejung, scolds them in far more understanding words than he could have ever mustered together.
she reveals an event that’s stayed with her her whole life, traumatised her almost, and the same older guest tells a heartfelt story about her own daughter with a similar experience. the entire time, he nods along, thinks about how wise the woman had been so far and how it’s only proof of what he already knew. even those who seem perfect aren’t, even those who seem to have the kindest hearts can make mistakes, but it’s those who try to fix them that truly grow.
when she’s done, understandably emotional, he silently asks with a raise of a hand if he can add a short story himself. with the go ahead, he starts. “I-I’m an only child, but when I was growing up, it was hard for my parents and I to connect, too. when you’re really young, it’s a bit easier; they would take me to parks to play on the swings, and my father taught me to play the piano with him, but as mrs lee said earlier, kids grow up so, so quickly, and their interests shift and their experiences shape who they become.” he pauses for just a second. “my father was a violinist with kbs orchestra and he and I have always connected over classical music. but as I got older, I became interested in rap, too, in becoming an idol, and it created a gap between us that we’d never felt before. for a long time, we didn’t really know what to talk to each other about anymore. I felt like he was disappointed in me.” he sucks in a shaky breath, eyes watery. “but just like mrs lee, as a parent, he wanted to learn about the things that made me happy. he taught himself pop songs I liked on the piano and would help me record covers in our store’s studio. when I was little and he was still playing with the orchestra, sometimes he could be home for just an hour or so with me and that’d be all for days, but he would use that time to read to me or to play me a new song we could learn together. every parent around the world does housework and raises their children, that’s in the job description. when you have a child, you agree to share your time with them, to care for them and love them. the time for yourself can easily be fit into the hours after they go to bed, or when they’re out with friends at the weekends. my mother,” he chuckles, “would send me to bed already pouring herself a glass of wine,” he feels a sense of pride when the audience laughs, too, “but it worked, because the all the hours before bedtime, we spent together and every moment was precious. even as I grew older, we respected each other’s need for time alone, but the option was always there to spend it together. my mother always says she has no regrets with the time we spent together when I was younger now that I don’t have as much time to see them.”
he thinks he’s talked too much when he finally stops, but everyone seems to be nodding in agreement and understanding, moves on to asking eleven year old jiyun another question and he feels a weight lift from his heart. it’s hard to be so honest when everyone’s eyes are on you, but it had flowed so naturally because even though it was a story of his own experiences, it didn’t feel like it was about him. it was about jiyun and making her parents see that their excuses aren’t up to scratch. he doesn’t feel entirely satisfied by the ending of the first concern, jiyun hugging each of her parents, but he’s more comfortable than when he started, at least. all he can hope for is the best, and that the rest of their topics for the day aren’t so sad.
september 15th, 2020: convex’s first win with ‘don’t wanna cry’ at mtv the show.
they’ve been promoting just less than a week when it happens. their nomination is mostly a blur in his ears, like it’s real but it’s not quite real — possible, but just outside of reach. a nomination doesn’t mean they’ll actually win, not until they do and he’s thrown headfirst into the realisation that convex, and more importantly, consta who vote and stream for them, are growing to become a force to be reckoned with.
in all honesty, it feels like a dream. it isn’t the first time they’ve won ( it’s actually the ninth, which is mostly surreal but also a little weird that he remembers solely because he keeps count with every time he texts his mother the news as if she won’t have been watching at home ), but every time feels as surprising as if it were. part of him seems to forget that the only way is up, that each comeback they’re going to draw in more people, even if only a few, and build upon the foundations they’ve already established. one of his favourite things about convex is how everything feels fresh every time they return to the stage — be it a new genre or style like ‘boom boom’ and ‘don’t wanna cry’, or a rejuvenated youthfulness for their seemingly annual spring comebacks. even when they stick to making a song that’ll make you feel warm and happy inside, it’s balanced by an emotional ballad as its b-side or highlighted by a point dance that gets everyone on their feet. considering the run they’ve had so far, with members coming and going almost in the blink of an eye, he knows that convex will at least always have their refreshing discography to fall back on. even if they remain a group you love to hear over the mall speakers rather than one you camp outside music shows to see, he’d be happy to see the hard work they put in to bringing their songs to life recognised.
that’s what winning on a music show feels like — recognition.
he cries every time they win, and his mother points it out in her replies to his updated count. she notes that his eyes get all red despite the fact that he’s smiling and jumping around to the beat, but he’s more embarrassed that everyone sees him wiggling his butt in celebration completely off time to ‘don’t wanna cry’s bassline. six days is barely any time at all, and it’s only the beginning of their promotions. ‘pretty u’ had won five times in its run and though he hates to get his hopes up, perhaps ‘don’t wanna cry’ will surpass it. perhaps they’ll win six. is it too ambitious to ask for seven? maybe their next comeback will only take five days to see a win. everything is a maybe or a what if but not his usual questions. they’re happy and hopeful and they make falling asleep in the car on the way home so easy because he’s so at peace thinking that convex is doing alright — that as obstacles do their best to knock them off course, they come back stronger every time.
On this week’s episode of KING OF MASKED SINGER, a new round of competitors has started to see who can defeat the current king, MRS ROSE. Amongst the contestants, FLOWERING SILKY FOWL faced off against in CHUNO a duet of ‘ME AFTER YOU’, originally by PAUL KIM.
While the panel was impressed by both voices, the one who was chosen to move on to the second round was Chuno! The Flowering Silky Fowl’s identity was revealed to be PRHYME from boy group CONVEX! He is one of the main rappers from the group and proved how diverse his talents are. Convex is currently preparing for a comeback on September 8th.
WHAT DO YOU THINK ? SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS HERE ! // *
taeyong doesn’t remember what time of the night he ended up falling asleep. he doesn’t usually stay up because of his thoughts, because of nerves, but this time, it had been different. maybe it’s because he’s so excited to show everyone yet another new side of convex — this is something that they haven’t done before, and it’s something that taeyong considers to be their best era of music and stylings yet. this is exactly up his alley, and combined with the fact that this is the first comeback after the additions, taeyong’s felt like this is the most important comeback that they’ll ever have. it’s probably not true, but he’s manifesting his energy into this viewpoint.
so it’s no surprise, to him at least, that he’s falling asleep during breakfast — on the first day of promotions, no less. he thinks to himself, maybe he’s gotten at most three hours of sleep. he doesn’t even count that as sleep, more like a long nap. he’s waiting patiently for an iced americano, any kind of caffeination to get that energy for performing later. taeyong takes a bite out of his food, closes his eyes, and slumps against the nearest member’s shoulder — which just so happens to be seungcheol. he sighs, chewing his mouthful absent-mindedly. he waits for a bit to speak, he can’t be talking with his mouth completely filled to the brim.
“mm ~ i’m so tired…” taeyong muses, “i couldn’t sleep, i was so excited for today!”
he knows that realistically, he should’ve done everything he could to get as much sleep as possible last night. for the next few weeks while they promote, sleep will be far and few between, an hour or so sneaked in at breakfast and a glorified power nap ‘through’ the night. but it’s difficult, because he’s excited for the big day, nervous for all the mistakes he convinces himself he’s going to make. not only that but it’s something a little new for convex, a style they haven’t hit before; what if he can’t pull it off? what if he’s always been fond of the more youthful and bright concepts they’ve already done because that’s all he’s good at? yet, there’s still anticipation buried in their somewhere, too — to be on a stage again, to go on variety shows and radio stations to show the world exactly what convex is made of. it all swims in his mind from the moment he lies down, alone with his thoughts, to the second he eventually drifts off without realising. when he had woken up this morning, it was all waiting for him to pick back up where he left of — it’s just been easier to ignore with all the hustle and bustle of getting ready.
“I think that’s been the general consensus for everyone,” he remarks with a wide smile, “it feels good to be back, right? even if we are tired.” it’s true; there’s a familiarity in the stage that even at his lowest or most tired, seungcheol will find comfort in. “what time did you manage to get to sleep? I dread to imagine how much sleep I got. I try not to look at the clock because then I work out how many hours I’m going to get and it just stresses me out more.” he chuckles. “it’s good that we can nap in this break, though; if you can manage to fall asleep, that is.”
