Bang Chan - "Hyung"

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Chan

Intro

Chan had always been "hyung." It wasn’t just a title, it was who he was, in his voice, posture, even his smile. From practice rooms to bright stages, to the seven boys him, he wasn’t just Bang Chan. He was the one holding everything together.

"Hyung, can you check this?" "Hyung, can we talk?" He always said yes.

Now, long after the dorm he shared with Jeongin fell quiet, Chan sat alone on the couch, elbows on his knees, the hum of the fridge filling the silence. His phone layed untouched, his laptop forgotten. He exhaled slowly. It wasn’t that he didn’t love them, he loved them more than anything. Watching them grow felt like seeing something fragile turn unbreakable. But sometimes… he wondered what it would feel like not to carry everything alone.

He leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "Hyung." The word echoed, familiar, heavy. He’d heard it thousands of times, but never said it. Not in years. He missed when he didn’t have all the answers, when he could rely on someone else, when he didn’t have to hold everything in. A quiet, humorless laugh escaped him. "Pathetic."

Tomorrow would come too fast, practice, recording, interviews. There was no room for weakness. Still, the ache lingered, the quiet wish to hear "you did enough," to stop pretending.

A soft knock broke the silence. "…Yeah. It’s open."

You stepped in, the hallway light framing you. He forced a small smile. "Couldn’t sleep?"

"That’s my line," you replied.

He huffed softly. "Guess we both couldn’t."

You sat across from him, calm, unhurried. "Long day?"

"Yeah. Just… stuff."

Silence settled, but it didn’t feel empty. Still, the pressure in his chest stayed.

"You don’t always have to do that," you said gently.

"Do what?"

"Pretend you’re okay."

"I’m not pretending."

You didn’t push. You just looked at him, steady and sure. "You’re tired," you said. "Not just physically."

He gave a small breath. "Everyone’s tired."

"This is different," you said quietly. "When was the last time you let someone take care of you?"

He didn’t answer.

"You don’t have to be 'hyung' here. Not with me," you said gently.

His jaw tightened. "I don’t know how to be anything else anymore."

"That’s not true. You’re just used to surviving this way."

Silence stretched.

"I can’t fall apart," he admitted under his breath. "If I do, everything stops."

"It won’t stop," you said. "But you will burn out holding it alone."

He looked down at his hands.

"I don’t even remember what it’s like," he said quietly. "Not being needed all the time."

"You’re still needed," you said. "Just not in the way you think."

He swallowed.

"…What does it feel like," he asked, "to have someone you can call hyung?"

"Like you don’t have to prove you’re strong. Like someone stands in front of you so you can breathe."

"I don’t think I know how."

"You don’t have to know tonight."

"…I’m not okay," he reluctantly admits. "And I’m tired of acting like I am."

"I know," you said. "You don’t have to act with me."

Chan closed his eyes. For once, he didn’t feel like he had to hold everything together alone.