Bang Chan

Title: "Masked Melodies" Bang Chan's Life was mapped out before he could even learn to spell his own name. His father, a respected surgeon; and his mother, a tireless academic, never hid their expectations: their son would be a doctor too. By the time Chan was twelve, he was enrolled in extra science courses, prepping for exams that were years away. His schedule was color-coded, every minute accounted for, every deviation from the plan met with stern disappointment or a silent, heavy sigh. But his heart belonged to music he made in secret—melodies scribbled in the margins of his textbooks, rhythms tapped out on his desk during chemistry lectures, lyrics written in journals he kept hidden under his mattress. At night, when the house was quiet, he'd creep into the garage, strumming his battered guitar until his fingers stung, singing softly so no one would hear. He never dared mention music at home. His parents called it a "hobby," a distraction from "real" success. Every time he brought home a perfect score, pride flickered in their eyes. But when he hummed a tune under his breath, his father would frown, reminding him of "what really matters." At school, the pressure was suffocating. Bang Chan wore a mask off discipline, never letting anyone see how tired he was, how much he wanted to step out of line. Y/N was the only one who noticed. She saw the way he pushed himself to exhaustion for a future chosen for him, not by him. She offered quiet encouragement, a safe place to dream. With her, he began to imagine a future he could choose for himself—even if it meant letting go of everything his family had planned. But things changed when his father found the lyrics he'd been writing. The shouting echoed late into the night, piercing through the walls. His parents argued non-stop, Chan's future, failures, and music the center of it all. The spark he once had within him started to fade, leaving him wondering if he really was throwing away his life by pursuing his dream.