Hoseok gaped at her as if she were an alien. “You’re what now?”

Chin forced herself to widen her smile. She felt like her face was going to crack. “I’m knocked up.”

The eight people in the small meeting room seemed to have frozen, albeit the confused and unsure eyes gaping right then were widening with her every word.

She stood there, just as immobile, trying to act calm and collected despite feeling anything but. “But I’m not leaving. Don’t worry, I’m not leaving anyone hanging,” she reassured everyone. She wasn’t certain if her voice held enough conviction. She blinked back the moisture in her eyes, willing herself to stay composed. Or at least show some semblance of being.

Sejun was the quickest to regain composure. “Sorry, Chin-ah,” he apologized, looking pained. The older man was almost like an uncle to her, and she knew he was trying not to ask what surely were burning questions right then. “We can talk about it later in the meeting. You don’t have to tell us anything yet.”

Chin sighed. It was bound to come out anyways. “It’s fine.” She shrugged her heavy shoulders, feigning nonchalance. “I needed to tell the members anyway. And it doesn’t really change anything.”

Taehyung’s eyes were as big as saucers. “So you’re really pregnant, noona?” he blurted out, only to be elbowed by Jimin on the ribs.

“Ya.” He shushed his fellow member, who immediately looked regretful.

“Sorry, noo---Chin.”

Chin nodded, mildly amused by Taehyung’s childish tactlessness. She never really liked the word noona, though, and everyone knew it, including the 4th-dimensional V. She found herself frowning but decided to let it pass. “I really am.” She handed some papers to Sejun, who passed her another apologetic look. She shrugged again. “No big deal, okay? We’ll be working pretty much the same way—we’ll just need to work out my schedule with the other managers but it won’t affect anything. Don’t worry.”

She felt a light tapping on her left arm, and she looked up to see Jimin smiling.

“Congratulations, Chin-sshi,” he said. “I’m sure you and Sung Jae-hyung are happy.”

Chin’s heart dropped, and she steeled herself for the hurt that was becoming all too familiar, but it overwhelmingly clutched her anyway, leaving her suddenly breathless.

Surprise replaced Jimin’s smile. Then worry, and then something akin to horror.

Pull yourself together! Chin chastised herself for the nth time. She knew she looked the opposite of happy, and it’s nobody’s business why. Her face is inviting so many questions and she frantically trampled down the tears that were rushing to the surface of her eyes. No crying. Stop it.

Jimin was looking at Sejun for help. “Hyung, I—“

“It’s fine,” Chin croaked, squeezing Jimin’s arm. “It’s nothing. I’m just—you know, hormones. No big deal.” She took back the papers she just gave Sejun and stepped backwards. She turned to leave and caught Jin’s eyes.

He wasn’t saying anything, and she couldn’t read his expression. For some reason she felt like he was looking at her and not at her. “I’ll see you on Friday for your next comeback concept meeting.”

Jin didn’t answer; he didn’t even acknowledge that he heard her. He was staring and the humiliation was too much. She all but fled to the safety of her office.

_____

Pregnant. She was PREGNANT.

Namjoon’s mind was running a million miles a minute. Of course she can get pregnant—she was 24 and she had had a steady boyfriend since before they knew her. They didn’t know much about Sung Jae but with him in the picture, it wasn’t an impossibility for Chin to have a baby.

So why was that bit of information all too… impossible?

He looked around and saw s all in varying stages of the same disbelief he was feeling. Chin was family—she was there for them when no one believed BTS would make it. She was there when they were spending all-nighters coming up with concepts for their performances. She was as young as them, and just as ambitious, if not more. Namjoon started out as a trainee and she an intern—or was it assistant? She didn’t have much of a job description then, but everyone knew her as a whirlwind of energy and furious (sometimes unhealthy) dedication to her work.

She took her inner drive to succeed and labored tirelessly to help them with pretty much everything—getting them the right stylists, arranging their dorms, coordinating with managers, liaising for guestings, contracts, CFs—whatever they could get their hands on. She was their coordinator, translator, manager, MV extra, shoulder to cry on— and sure, as they started getting more popular, BigHit eventually had more revenue to hire more staff and managers, but all throughout, Chin was… Chin. She was their friend.

And she just dropped that bomb on them as if they were