Bang Chan: After Midnight - 03:04 am
Summary: A sleepless night in the studio pushes Chris to his breaking point as perfectionism, pressure, and exhaustion begin to consume him. When you show up with food, comfort, and the reminder that his worth isn’t tied to one song, he finally allows himself to rest — and by morning, both the track and his heart feel lighter again.
Word count: 3k Warnings: emotional exhaustion, burnout, overworking, anxiety / self-doubt, insomnia, mentions of unhealthy work habits
It was 03:04 in the morning and the studio lights were too bright for this time. Everything else outside the building had gone dark hours ago, but inside the recording room time kept moving in loops – replaying verses, unfinished tracks, muted frustration buried beneath exhausted silence.
Chris sat in front of the mixing desk, elbows resting on his knees, one hand pressed against his mouth while the same section of the song played again. And again. And again.
The untouched coffee beside him had gone cold hour an hour ago.
His eyes stayed fixed on the screen. Analyzing every single beat. The melody. The arrangement. He was listening and criticizing – nothing seemed to be right.
A quiet knock sounded against the studio door and he flinched. Who could it be at this time?
“Come in”, he muttered, his gaze now fixated on the door, which opened slowly. Warm air from the hallway slipped inside along with the smell of fresh coffee and takeout food.
You stood there holding a paper bag in one hand and two coffees in the other. For a second something in his expression softened.
“Hey, you”, you said quietly. “You’re still here.” You shot him sympathetic smile, I am still trying to finish this song. Something is missing and I can’t figure out what.”
You walked over carefully, setting the drinks down beside the keyboard before placing the food near him. “I figured you forgot to eat again.” In that moment his stomach started to rumble and he leaned back in his chair with a sigh, rubbing both hands down his face slowly. The room was quiet except for the faint static from the speakers.
Then you glanced toward the screen. Different track versions lined the monitor in messy rows.
Version 12.
Version 13.
Version 14.
None of them finished. “You’ve been stuck on the same song?”, you asked softly, stepping behind him. Chris stared at the timeline for a moment longer before nodding once. “It doesn’t sound right. None of them are good enough.”
He looked exhausted and it literally broke your heart. Dark circles under his eyes, a light twitch noticeable. The evidence that this wasn’t the first all nighter that he pulled was there.
You slowly placed your hands on his shoulders and immediately noticed how tense he was. Your fingers gently pressed into his muscles and his head fell into his neck, a soft moan escaping his lips. Carefully you leaned down, til your face was by his ear. “How about you take a little break? You’re too far in your head, it’s blocking you”, you whispered slowly, while slowly pressing your thumbs into his skin, trying to massage the knots away.
He turned his head slightly to your side, his eyes searching your face for something unknown. A couple of seconds passed in silence, it was just the two of you in the quiet of the studio. Then he lifted his hand, grabbed yours and pulled you slowly on his lap.
You settled carefully against him, one arm instinctively wrapping around his shoulders so he would not have to hold all of his weight up alone. Up close the exhaustion on his face looked even worse. His skin was pale beneath the harsh studio lighting, lips slightly dry from too much coffee and not enough sleep.
Chris rested his forehead against your shoulder for a moment and exhaled slowly, like even breathing had become difficult tonight. “I am serious”, he murmured quietly. “I don’t know why I can’t get this right.”
Your fingers moved gently through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Chris-“
“No, listen.” His voice cracked slightly from overuse and exhaustion. He pulled back just enough to look at you properly. “Everyone expects something good every time. The company, the fans …” He swallowed hard. “I’m supposed to lead this group properly and to make something worth all of this.”
The monitor continued glowing with unfinished timelines and scattered audio files. “But what if it’s not enough. The bar is so fricking high, what if I can’t live up to that?”
You could hear the fear underneath it now. No frustration. No irritation. Fear.
He laughed once under his breath, bitter and tired. “I keep listening to it and all I hear are flaws. Maybe I am losing it.” His gaze dropped toward the desk. “Maybe I am not good enough to keep carrying all of this.”
Your chest tightened painfully at his words. Carefully you cupped his face between your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes again. “Hey. Don’t say that.” His expression faltered immediately, like he wanted to believe you but didn’t know how.
“You care too much. That’s the problem. You put every ounce of yourself into this until you can’t separate the music from your own worth anymore”, you whispered quietly.
You gently shook his face in your hands like you wanted to shake some sense into him. His eyes stayed focused on you as your thumbs caressed the corners of his mouth. “You think one unfinished song suddenly erases everything you’ve already done? Everything you have achieved over the last couple of years?”, you continued gently.
His jaw tightened silently. “I’m the leader”, he said quietly. “If I mess up-“
“You’re human as well, Chris”, you interrupted softly. “And you’re exhausted.”
For a second he looked away again, blinking rapidly like he hated how emotional he felt right now. Your thumb brushed lightly beneath his eye before a tear could fully form. “Baby, I want you to listen to me now carefully.”
He looked at you again, his eyes still glistening.
“I see someone who stays awake until four in the morning because he cares so much it physically and mentally hurts him. I see someone who carries everyone else first and himself last.” Your fingers slid through his hair slowly as the room fell silent again except for the low hum of the equipment around you.
“You deserve some kindness as well, you know?”, you added finally and felt how his grip strengthened around you. Your hands wandered to his shoulders and you could feel how the tension slowly loosened beneath your touch. “You really think it’s okay if this isn’t perfect?”, he asked eventually, voice almost embarrassingly small. You tilted your head, shooting him a soft smile.
“I think nothing you create will ever be as terrible as you convince yourself it is at three in the morning.” A breath of laughter escaped him – weak and tired, but real. “There you are. My Chris”, you whispered teasingly.
He pulled you closer against his chest, this time when he buried his face against your shoulder it felt less desperate. “I am scared to disappoint everyone”, he admitted quietly into your hoodie. Your hand rested against the back of his head. “You won’t.”
“What if-?”
“No what ifs anymore. You won’t disappoint everyone. You’re going to make everyone proud. And even when things get hard, you don’t have to carry it alone. You have the boys. And you have me.”
His grip tightened again at those words. His breathing went calm and you softly pressed your lips on his head. “So, should I ask you when your last meal was or will the answer get me mad?”, you mumbled against his skin and his shoulder shook as he laughed out. “Better don’t ask me”, he replied and untangled himself from you.
You breathed out and turned around to grab the bag with the takeout food. “Good thing I brought you some Pho.” You took it out, placed it on the table and turned around to him again. “Here is what you’re going to do. You take a break, eat this damn pho and then you’re going to nap. Even if I have to smash this damn studio.”
Chris blinked a few times before a tired laugh finally slipped out of him properly this time. Low and raspy from exhaustion, but genuine enough to make relief loosen the tight knot in your chest.
“Damn what did the pho do to you?”, he asked, a tired grin pulled at his lips. You rolled your eyes. “Just eat your pho, before I shove it down your throat myself.”
“Damn, you’re bossy today.”
You hummed in approval, about to get up from his lap so he could eat in peace, but he was quick to wrap his arm around you to pull you back. “Where do you think are you going?”
You let out a surprised laugh as you landed back against his chest, one of his arms securely wrapped around your waist now despite how exhausted he was.
“Chris”, you protested weakly, trying not to smile. “You need to eat.”
“I can do that, while you stay here.” You snorted softly and relaxed against him again, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the sleeve of his hoodie while he reached for the pho with his free hand.
You watched him taking the first bite and how his face relaxed even more when the warm substance reached his tongue. His head eventually dropped against your shoulder while he chewed and let out a satisfied grunt. “Is it good?”, you asked softly and he just nodded. “Even with mint. Baby, I love you so much”, he whispered, as his free hand tightened around you .
Chris lowered the chopsticks for a second and looked at you like he still couldn’t fully understand how someone could walk into his worst moments and make them feel survivable. The studio lights reflected softly in his tired eyes now, exhaustion still there, nut no longer crushing him whole.
The song loop had long stopped playing and the studio finally felt quiet instead of suffocating. Then you exhaled softly, watching him quietly eating his pho. As soon as he took the last bite your hands slowly ruffled his hair. “How about you catch up on some sleep? You know I love you and you know I think you’re the hottest man who happened to walk planet earth right now, but you look rough. The circles under your eyes are as dark as the company’s budget after comeback season.”
He almost spat the pho out as he chuckled loudly at your remark. “Damn, you’re on fire today”, he laughed and leaned back against the chair, one hand covering his mouth while the other stayed wrapped loosely around your waist – the way his blinking had started slowing, the way his eyes struggled to stay fully open after every few seconds.
“There it is”, you mumbled quietly.
“What?”
“The crash.”
“I’m fine.”
“Mhm, sure.” You gently brushed your thumb beneath one of his eyes. “You just blinked in slow motion.”
He opened his mouth like he wanted to argue further more, but a yawn interrupted him halfway through. You raised an eyebrow immediately.
“You now literally yawned mid sentence.”
Chris groaned softly and dropped his forehead against you dramatically. “Can’t believe my body betrayed me like this”, he muttered.
A quiet laugh escaped you as your fingers moved through his hair again and you slowly slipped off his lap. He looked up at you about to reach for you again, but you caught his hand in yours, squeezing it tightly. “Come on. Let’s go to sleep now.”
You glanced toward the small couch shoved into the corner near the shelves of old vinyls and pulled him up. He stumbled slightly against you, his forehead once again finding your shoulder. You laughed quietly, slowly pushing him back only to find out that his eyes were already closed.
You grabbed his hand, slowly guiding him to the couch and seating them there. All while his eyes were still closed. When he felt the soft fabric of the furniture under his skin he opened his eyes again.
The studio lights suddenly felt much softer over here away from the monitors. “Oh, this is dangerous”, he mumbled suddenly.
“What?”
“If I close my eyes now, it’s over.”
You smiled softly and grabbed the folded blanket laying over the armrest before draping it over him. “That’s kind of the goal.”
The second you tucked the blanket around him, his eyes fluttered shut. Your heart clenched a little at how exhausted he looked now that he finally stopped forcing himself awake. Carefully you sat down beside him and brushed his hair away from his forehead.
He slightly lifted the blanket off his body. “Come here”, he whispered weakly as he made space for you despite the couch being way too small for two people comfortably. The moment you laid down beside him, he immediately pulled you close like it was instinctive.
“Much better”, he whispered quietly, pulling the blanket over both of you. Your arms slipped around him carefully while his head settled against your chest. Within minutes his breathing had already started slowing. You continued running your fingers through his hair slowly while the quiet hum of the studio filled the silence around you.
“Hey”, he murmured eventually, voice barely above a whisper.
“Hm?”
“Thanks for coming and … making sure I am ok.”
You pressed a soft kiss against the top of his head. “Always.”
Chris hummed quietly at that, eyes already fully closed now. His body got heavier against you, acting like a second blanket that’s breathing. You looked at him, admiring his now calm features. His lips slightly puckered, as he nuzzled into you and you wrapped your arms tighter around him.
He was fully gone now and you couldn’t be happier that he finally got to rest a bit. It didn’t take long until you fell asleep as well, still tangled with his body.
Soft morning light filtered through the narrow studio windows by the time you woke up again. For a second you were confused about where you were. Your neck hurt slightly from the awkward position on the couch and one of your legs had completely fallen asleep beneath the blanket.
Still half asleep, you looked down automatically, but Chris was no longer there.
Your brows furrowed immediately. The blanket had slipped into the empty space beside you and the spot next to you was still warm, meaning he couldn’t have been gone long. Slowly you pushed yourself upright, rubbing tiredly at your eyes before glancing around the studio.
And there he was. Back in front of the mixing desk. But this time everything felt different.
The harsh frustration from last night was gone. His shoulders looked relaxed for the first time in days, head moving slightly to the rhythm playing softly through his headphones. One hand rested against the keyboard while the other tapped lightly against his thigh.
You stayed quiet for a moment, just watching him.
Then you noticed the screen.
Not version 12, 13 or 14. FINAL.
A sleepy smile slowly pulled at your lips. You carefully stood up and walked toward him, your feet barely making noise against the floor. Chris didn’t notice you immediately, too focused on the song playing
You reached him quietly and wrapped your arms around his shoulders from behind, pressing a soft kiss against the side of his head. He startled slightly before immediately relaxing into your touch.
“Morning”, he murmured, voice still rough from sleep.
“Morning”, you muttered, leaning against him. “You finished it?”
A smile appeared on his face as he leaned back into you. “Yeah.”
You glanced toward the screen again. “When?”
“Like an hour ago?”
Your eyes widened instantly. “Chris!”
“I woke up and suddenly everything made sense”, he defended quickly, laughing softly when you lightly smacked his shoulder. “I swear I slept first.”
“You better have.”
“I did.” He turned his head slightly toward you, smiling lazily now. “Turns out you were right.”
You gasped. “Holy shit. Say that again.”
He rolled his eyes affectionately before reaching up to grab your wrist gently, pulling you around the chair until you ended up standing between his knees. Then he looked up at you quietly for a moment.
He looked happy. Really happy.
“You know what the worst part is?”, he asked.
“What?”
He rested his hands against your waist slowly. “The thing that was missing was painfully obvious after sleeping.”
You smiled softly. “What was it?”
Chris tilted his head toward the headphone, that now rested on his shoulders, where the finished track continued playing quietly.
“Space”, he said simply. “I kept overcrowding everything because I was panicking.” His thumbs rubbed absentmindedly against your hips. “The second my brain stopped spiraling I knew exactly what needed to stay and what needed to go.”
You stared at him for a second before your hands slid up his arms. “You needed to rest.”
Then Chris reached over and clicked something on the keyboard, the melody of the song now playing over the speakers instead of his headphones.
“This part”, he murmured pulling you closer until your knees pressed against his chair. “Listen carefully.”
You stayed quiet while the instrumental built softly through the speakers. Then the chorus hit. Your eyes widened slightly. “Oh.”
Chris watched your reaction carefully now, nervousness flickering briefly across his face again. “Too much?”
“No”, you said immediately, looking back at him. “No, baby. It’s beautiful. I love it.” The tension left his shoulders fast.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You leaned down and kissed his forehead softly. “See what happens when you sleep like a normal person? I am really contemplating sedating you more often.”
He laughed quietly and pulled you into his lap again, pressing himself against you. “Thank you so much. Without you I never would have finished this song”, he whispered softly and pressed a kiss against your shoulder blades. Followed by another one. Then another.
“You know I am never going to let you go, right? You’re stuck with me forever”, he said, which was supposed to sound like a threat, but you actually liked the idea of it. You loved it.
“Guess I have to accept my fate”, you replied and snuggled more into him, enjoying the way his body practically welcomed you.
