For your Own Good ~Bang Christopher Chan x Reader~

Chapter 3

4 years later:
"I swear to God, Christopher. I thought I told you to go away already."

"Come on, Hyemin. Just let me finish this last bit and I'll go, I promise." I respond.

Hyemin stomps her foot and crosses her arms. She might be standing behind me, but I can tell she's angry with me.

As I continue to click and type away on my computer, Hyemin comes up behind me and pulls my rollie chair back. "Chris, imagine how your fans would feel if they knew you hadn't gotten real rest in the past 4 weeks. You need to go home and relax."

I think about it for a second. "Well, maybe they would be happy knowing I'm doing what I love and that there is new music coming soon?" I said, ignoring the second part of what she said.

Hyemin shakes her head. "No! They would be mad at me for letting their favorite artist work themselves to death. Go home!" She shouts.

When I ignore her again, she steps towards my computer and hovers a finger over the power button. "Wait! Hyemin, don't! I haven't saved anything on there yet!" I start to move to stop her.

She puts a hand up to stop me where I stand.

"Bang Christopher Chan, as your manager I'm telling you to go home and relax or you're fired right here, right now." She says sternly.

"But I have to finish editing Jisung's lines together."

She rolls her eyes and pulls out her phone, typing something really aggressively. When she finishes she shows me the all caps text she sent to Jisung.

"Edit your own damn lines you squirrel, Chan wants to go home- I do not want to go home, you're making me!" I complain.

She crosses her arms again and puts on a stern face. "I don't care, you're going home right now. And I'm telling the front security to not allow you in until Monday." She says, sounding proud of herself.

"Monday at 8am, I know." She's always stressing when we should be here.

"No, Monday at 12pm. So you can sleep in." She adds.

I stare at her for a second. "You're crazy-"

"No, Chan, what's crazy is the fact that you think doing this to yourself is ok." Her tone leaves no room for argument, so I sit down in my chair to just listen.

"I heard from Changin that you used to only stay here until 2am before, but now, you stay here for almost whole entire days at time. That's not ok. If I have to threaten you to go home, then that's what I'll do." She crosses her arms for the last time.

I sigh, knowing I lost this one. I stand and push the chair back to its spot.

"Fine, I'll go. Just don't delete my stuff."

She scoffs. "I wasn't going to. I just needed you to listen to me."

Hyemin moves away from my computer, allowing me to save my work before she makes sure I turn off the computer.

When we start towards the door, she puts a hand on my shoulder.

"I don't mean to be so hard on you, Chan. I just don't want you to overwork yourself, and that's me talking as your manager and friend. Just go home, rest, sleep in, eat something, watch TV, do anything but work, please." She practically begs me.

I nod. "I will, I'm sorry for worrying you, Hyemin."

"If you're sorry, why are you still in my field of vision? Go home." She says playfully.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When I got into the uber to go home, I could have sworn I saw Hyemin staring at me from a window, shooting me a certain finger.

I guess I didn't really think about what I'd be doing at home when I finally gave in to Hyemin, because as soon as I stepped into my apartment, I just kind of stood in front of my door and looked around.

I'm not supposed to work, so what else would I be doing? That's all I ever do, even here.

The first thing that came to mind was to finally check my mailbox, especially since I haven't done that in god knows how long. On the way down to the mail room, I start thinking about where I am right now.

I haven't been working myself to death, I've just kept busy. I'm sure Changbin and Jisung know what happened, or at least why I threw myself into work more. And if they know, they probably told Hyemin by now too.

The day y/n left has still stuck with me, there isn't a day I don't think about it. Even after 4 years, I have so many questions that have no answers, and I don't think I'll ever get answers for them.

Y/N was my person, my everything. I knew after the second date, this was the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I had a plan for our future, which is part of the reason I was working so hard, so I could provide for us. But everything came crashing down when I walked in that night.

I need to stop thinking about this now, I'm in public, I don't need people seeing me tear up.

When I reach my mailbox, I could have sworn I saw a spider climb out of the slot. My key also looks comically old and rusted.

I unlock the box and some of the letters threaten to spill out onto the floor. I thought about going through these right here because I didn't think there would be so much, but now I see I need to take this upstairs.

With so many letters, I struggle to hold them all so I try to stuff a few in my pockets without crushing them too much. In the end I was barely able to hold them all on my person because my pride won't allow me to come back down for a second trip.

Once I was finally in my apartment, I let all the letters in my arms fall onto the nearest surface and pull out the ones I stowed away.

Before going through everything, I make sure the front door is closed and locked appropriately, I changed into more comfortable clothes, and I got myself something to drink because this was going to take a while.

After sorting through all the mail a little bit, I think I counted upwards of 100 envelopes. A chunk of them were bills that I had already taken care of online, so they don't matter anymore. Half way through, I dragged the trash can over to make clean up easier.

When I was done sorting, the trash can was half way filled with just ripped up envelopes with the old bills. Now it's time for the exciting part.

More than half of the mail was letters sent by fans which is what I really wanted to get to. Years ago, before I met y/n, I lived in a different apartment and would get mail directly from fans. That doesn't sound too bad, and they never sent me anything threatening surprisingly, but it could have potentially gone south.

After a while, "fans" started showing up at my door which is obviously a problem so I had to move, but the company helped me out to find a place and get settled again. Ever since then, any letters from fans have to go through the company before they can get to me so that doesn't happen again.

One-by-one, I go through the letters, some of which almost made me tear up from the fan's stories. Knowing that our music touches so many fans and helps so many more gives me one more reason to keep going.

Eventually, I got through enough mail and saw one that stood out from the others.