8 weeks

Narae gives her a week before she starts hassling her to start going to doctor’s appointments, and another two days before she starts the ‘You should really tell Siwon’ spiel.

The first suggestion (demand, really), she defers, says she’ll go next week (fat chance of that happening without Narae dragging her by the hair). The second, she considers, if only because she misses Siwon and does actually want to see him.

“You have to tell him.” Narae snaps, cranky because she’s given her best friend enough time to come to terms with things and she’s still pushing her away. “Even if it isn’t his kid, he deserves to know. You guys have practically been best friends since you could walk.”

She’s been trying to think about the baby only in abstract terms, but somehow, Narae always finds a way to drag it to the forefront of her mind. Her best friend is determined to get her to acknowledge what’s going on – to ‘move forward’, as she puts it – and she knows that Narae is right. She knows that she should be going to that doctor’s appointment, eating well and doing all the things expectant mothers are supposed to do, if she’s not going to get an abortion.

But somehow, she always finds a way to distract herself. When the baby she carries becomes real in her mind, she turns on the TV, calls Zhou Mi. Anything to stop her from admitting that this might be real and she has a responsibility to do something about it (because – as they all know – she’s never been very good at shouldering responsibility. It’s a family trait).

She sighs. “I know. I just don’t want to.” She holds a hand up, when Narae’s face starts to transfigure into the glare she knows all too well. “But I will tell him.” The idea makes her feel faint, but then most things do these days (ever since the doctor told her she’s pregnant, the little monster has been doing all it can to make sure she knows it’s there. Probably because she refuses to admit it exists to anyone).

“When?” Narae narrows her eyes suspiciously. “I know you, Rin. You say you’ll do something, but really you mean you’ll do it only when you absolutely have to. Which probably means when you’re going into labour.”

She screws her face up in fear at the idea. “C-can we not talk about that?” She gives a nervous laugh, trying to ignore the desire to cross her legs. It’s not like she forgot that pregnancy ends in giving birth, but she’s really, really trying not to think about it. Maybe she can have an caesarean, get it done nice and smoothly. Although, you do end up with a scar…what’s worse – horrific pain or a scar that prevents you from wearing bikinis for the rest of your life?

Her friend gives her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t really want to think about that either.”

“You don’t? You’re not the one who has to go through it.” She whimpers, hugging herself.

Narae rolls her eyes. “Stop with the distraction techniques, Hyerin. I don’t have time for this.” Well, she does, but that’s not the point. “Tell him. You might feel better for it.” She pats Hyerin’s knee. “Siwon’s a good guy – a really great friend – you know he’ll be supportive. And besides, you need to tell someone other than me. It might make you face up to the whole thing.” She says darkly.

Sometimes, she really wonders why the hell she’s friends with someone who has so little faith in her.

***

And so, she finds herself calling Siwon, arranging for them to meet up for their twice-abandoned lunch date. She can’t deny the rush of pleasure she feels from hearing his voice – they’ve been friends for so long that not talking to him just feels weird. He tells her all about his fashion shoots, and she tells him about the past two weeks – omitting one important factor, of course.

When he suggests that they meet up at his latest modelling gig, she agrees. It’s a tradition of sorts for them – she tags along while he works and makes fun of the industry he’s a part of for him. Siwon might be earnest, sweet and just a little too handsome, but he does understand how to take the piss out of his own life.

It’s why they’re such good friends.

Because really, some of the she’s seen him wear for fashion is borderline ridiculous, such as the weird black thing he’s wearing right now.

“Do I even want to know what you’re wearing?” She asks, lips pulling into a disparaging sneer as she tugs the piece of netting strung across his shoulders.

“No,” he sighs, “you don’t.” There’s a quick shrug, something that strains the netting across his muscular shoulders, eliciting a smirk from her. At least she can have some fun, even if she’s full of nerves. “I don’t get a choice in what I’m supposed to wear…I’m just a model. I’m here to look pretty.”

“And that you do, my dear.” She fingers the strange thing again. “That you do. Even if you are wearing something that amounts to the male version of a bolero jacket.”

He snorts. “I don’t think it’s big enough for that. This is couture, darling. The clothes aren’t meant to make sense.”

“And that’s why you bring me along, so I can make fun of them and inject a bit of reality into the atmosphere.” She pulls a face. “They don’t really think blokes would wear this out, right?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, love.” Siwon shrugs again, expression uninterested. “Remember, I’m just the clotheshorse. They don’t tell me anything.”

“Aww,” she coos. “I remember when you first got scouted – you weren’t half so world-weary then!” She nudges him with a shoulder, turning his attention to the photographer. “You fell all over yourself to do everything they wanted, back then.”

“Things change.” He says tightly, swallowing back the bile that’s rising in his throat. “I didn’t realise that the job .”

She raises one perfectly coiffed eyebrow. “Babe, don’t be such a downer.” She scoffs. “Plenty of kids would kill for your job, especially as you don’t even need the money.”

“I’m doing this for my mom, and you know it.” He rolls his eyes, letting one arm rest on her waist. “She loves telling everyone that her baby boy is a model because he’s so handsome.” At least he thinks family is important, she reasons. That might make…telling him easier.

“So you’re essentially telling me you’re doing this because you’re a mummy’s boy?” She gives a low whistle. “Don’t try to bull me, Choi Siwon. I know you don’t give a about what your parents think. The last you gave was at that party the Byuns gave, the one where they announced that they were installing the cabin boy in your mother’s room as her ‘personal butler’.”

Siwon’s lips curl into a sneer. “Don’t remind me. You don’t know how disturbing it is to realise that some boy who’s barely older than you is ‘servicing’ your mother on a daily basis.”

“Mrs Choi always was a bit of a screamer.” She winks, unrepentant, even as Siwon pinches the skin of her waist. Thank god she’s not showing yet, or that could have ended in disaster. “Don’t be a .” She tuts, tugging her shirt down to hide the mark.

“Stop being such a nasty , then,” he counters, negating the force of his words when he drops a kiss on the top of her head. Letting go of her waist, he sighs as the photographer beckons. “Hate to love you and leave you, darling, but daddy’s got to get to work. We’ll do lunch when I’m done, alright?”

She smiles faintly, face settling into a grimace when his back is turned. There’s a tangled ball of worry in the pit of her stomach, because she really has to tell him tonight (otherwise Narae might murder her), and the mention of the word ‘daddy’ just sent her heart into overdrive.

What if it is his baby? God, that would solve everything. Siwon’s actually good with children, a trait that Hyunjae sorely lacks. And it’s not like she’s particularly fabulous with children, either. Not that she’s ever really been around them. The only experiences she’s ever really had with children have been with Siwon’s nieces and nephews, the ones he babysits whenever he gets the chance.

But the only way of knowing is a paternity test, something Siwon would actually have to consent to, because god knows, she’s not asking Hyunjae to do it. She doesn’t even want to tell Hyunjae about this baby – she’s glad to be rid of him, and telling him runs the risk of them having to get back together. The baby’s nothing but an accident (sorry, she thinks towards her stomach, not really wanting the kid to feel like a mistake – surprise is probably a better word), and she’d like to keep it that way.

Besides, as soon as her mother finds out that she’s…pregnant (she’s been trying to avoid thinking it so explicitly, in case her mother’s taken up reading minds, something she would not put past mummy dearest), she’s screwed. She might technically be an adult, but there is no way that Park Gayoon is letting her daughter have a baby out of wedlock.

. It’s an actual baby. Like, she’s always known that being pregnant generally ends in a baby, but she’s been desperately pushing that thought to the back of her mind. She’s not ready – it’s not like she ever prepared for this eventuality. This wasn’t what she was taught in finishing school – how to hide an unplanned pregnancy from her friends and family, although that would have been far more useful than the things they actually did teach her. Like how to get out of a car elegantly. Who the needs to know how to do that?

She’s not some B-list celeb. She’d never expose her crotch to the world, thank you very much. Though she has exposed it to a few too many men, she supposes. Pot calling the kettle black and all that. Even so, how was she supposed to know she’d end up pregnant? – she’s always been careful with the contraception, especially because she’s never been allowed to take the Pill.

ing doctors. If they’d just been willing to look past the side effects, maybe she wouldn’t be in this mess right now.

She closes her eyes, scrunching them together tight, as if wishing away the situation will work. When she opens them, she half expects to see herself in her bedroom at home, the ever-present nausea in the pit of her stomach a half-imagined dream.

But it doesn’t work, because she’s still stood among the flashing lights and snaking cables of Siwon’s fashion shoot, waiting for him to be done so they can have lunch, and she – well, she can potentially ruin his life. Fun times, really. Aren’t babies supposed to be joyful things?

that. This baby’s nothing but trouble (she sends apologies towards the bundle of cells again, because she really shouldn’t be being so negative about it. It’s not the kid’s fault, after all. It didn’t ask for such a ty mother). If it’s a girl…well, she’s going to be on the Pill from age thirteen, if she has her way (is her inability to take the Pill genetic? She really should look into this, like she should really start taking the vitamins the doctor gave her every day. She doesn’t want to break the kid, or something).

And if it’s a boy…well, then he’ll never be allowed to have . Ever. Yes. She’ll teach this kid to be a respectable member of society.

Although…how’s she supposed to manage that when she’s not one herself? And who’s to say they’ll even be part of society? The shame of being an unwed mother will most definitely earn her excommunication from the family as a whole, not that that would be such a bad thing.

Well, she knew she was utterly ed anyway. Might as well start readying herself for it now. Why did she ever start having ? Nuns have got it right – maybe there is something to enforced celibacy, although that would mean she’d never have learned about the special thing Siwon does with his tongue…

Ooh. Yes. The thing where – oh, she can’t think about that while he’s right in front of her! Jesus, that’s just asking for trouble. Well, more trouble than she and the little annoyance are in, and she calls it a little annoyance with affection. So really, they’re getting somewhere. By the end of this pregnancy, she and the…baby (gulp) will be firm friends.

They’ve got to be, seeing as they’ll only have one another to rely on. . . She could so do with a cigarette right now – or a drink. Something pregnant women aren’t allowed to have, anyway. But she’s already a bad enough mother, what with the vitamins and her diet and the whole negative pet name thing. She can’t give it one of those syndromes because she can’t cope with the idea of single motherhood, that’s just cruel – as cruel as whatever deity thought it would be funny to give her a child.

There was a reason she’d decided to remain childless – and that was her total and utter lack of a maternal instinct. Siwon can attest to it, he really can. In fact, as soon as she tells him about this kid (a prospect that almost makes her upchuck right in the corner of the studio), he’s probably going to remind her of that time she dropped his baby nephew.

All the Baby Dior in the world isn’t going to make up for her crappy parenting skills, a thought that has her nibbling the skin of thumb like a child. She checks her watch, just for something to distract her, and discovers it’s been twenty minutes since Siwon went up to get his photos done.

Well. You can’t say that she doesn’t know how to keep herself occupied. Though isn’t stress supposed to be bad for the baby? Yet another thing to send her into paroxysms of worry. If just how pathetic she is wasn’t so vaguely amusing, she’s not sure how she’d have coped. Laughing at herself has always been a trait she’s been quite proud of – she never wanted to take herself as seriously as her mother does.

Jesus Christ. It’s a right royal mess, she thinks miserably when Siwon walks out of the studio, watching her distracted face curiously. “Rin-ah, you okay?” He asks, a little concerned. He’s always known that she lives in her head all the time, but her forehead is creased with concentration. She jumps in surprise.

“I-I’m fine!” She says in a bright voice. “Never better!” He blinks, a little surprised by her enthusiasm.

“Oh. Great.” He smiles at her tentatively, his suspicions confirmed when the smile he receives in return is lacklustre at best. However, he does not push it – if he’s going to find out what’s wrong, it’s better to do it somewhere where she’ll be comfortable. He holds out a hand, which she takes gracefully, pulling herself upright.

She swallows back the nerves, praying to every god she’s ever heard of (including some she’s pretty sure she made up) that she won’t throw up all over his nice white shirt. “How was the shoot?” She asks lamely, unable to think of anything else to say. He tucks her arm into the crook of his elbow and leads them to the lift.

He pretends to consider as he presses the ‘down’ button. “.” He says decisively, as the chrome doors of the life open. They sidle in next to a short, balding man in a sharply tailored suit. He doesn’t look at them and they don’t look at him; she restrains her giggles at the awkwardness of the situation long enough for him to get off at the first floor.

As they watch him stride purposefully down a corridor, waiting for the doors to close again, she looks at him. “Do you even like modelling? Like, ever?”

“When the photographer’s nice, I guess?” He shrugs. “But they’re usually all , so that’s why it tends to .” He purses his lips, obviously not willing to explain further.

“Ah…” she mumbles, trying to sound supportive, but failing dramatically. She does care, she does…it’s just she’s feeling really ing nauseous, and the cologne Siwon’s wearing is not helping. And she usually loves his aftershave.

ing baby. Messing up yet another thing she enjoys. Next thing you know, she won’t be able to eat pizza. – better not jinx it, she thinks. Maybe she should be more forceful with the little annoyance – stricter parents produce more successful kids, right?

“You’re at it again,” comes the amused voice of her companion. “Get out of your head and talk to me, Hyerin-ah.”

“I quite like it in my head, thanks.” She answers, almost like a reflex. Why the hell did she say that? She hates being inside her head at the moment. It’s far too stressful. “Um,” she clears . “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. What were you saying?”

Siwon chuckles. “I was saying that I think Zhou Mi is trying to get featured as one of the ‘Designers to watch’. He’s been harassing Kim Byungki for weeks now.”

Nodding, she bites her lip as a wave of nausea passes through her. “That sounds like Mimi.” They’ve reached the big carousel doors now, and as they step out into the sunlight, she’s forced to shade her eyes with her spare hand.

“Yeah, I guess it does. Did you know he’s making Kyuhyun model his designs for Fashion week?” Siwon barks a laugh. “Said that Kyu’s utter lack of interest in fashion is what makes him such a good muse.”

She manages a proper laugh this time. “Kyu won’t like that,” she remarks, as they walk towards Siwon’s ever-extravagant limo. Sometimes it is handy, having a friend with a limo on call. “He hates anything where he has to be silent and smile for the cameras – is Mi asking for a disaster?”

Siwon slides in next to her, leaning forward to give the driver their destination. “Apparently, he’s got the situation ‘under control’, although with Zhou Mi, I dread to think what that means.”

“I hope it doesn’t involve making Niqiu cross-dress again,” Hyerin says mildly. “That dog has enough to deal with, he doesn’t need any more identity crises.”

“…why would it involve Zhou Mi’s dog?” Siwon asks curiously, settling back in his seat. He offers her his shoulder, an invitation for her to snuggle in. Would it make her a floozy if she took him up on the offer? She gives a mental shrug, throwing caution to the wind as she lays her head on his shoulder.

“I don’t know. Most of Zhou Mi’s plans involve his dog.” She coughs. “But I think that’s mainly because he has an evil mastermind complex. I did try to tell him that all the evil geniuses have cats, like my Minki, but he wasn’t having it. Apparently Niqiu is the best apprentice ever.”

They’re both silent for a moment, thinking about Zhou Mi and his tiny dog, as the driver weaves his way through the midday traffic. “We’re nearly there, sir.” He calls, interrupting the quiet.

“Thanks, Sunghyun.” Siwon replies, “I’m glad you managed to get us there so fast. I’m starving.” As if on cue, his stomach rumbles noisily.

Hyerin sits up, looking at him accusingly. “Oh no…don’t tell me you did it again.”

“Did what?” Siwon looks at her innocently.

She groans, the expression on his face confirmation of her fears. “You starved yourself for the shoot, didn’t you?” Her fingers curl around the lapels of his shirt. “You promised me you’d stop doing this, Siwon!”

He looks away uneasily. “I have to, Hyerin, you don’t understand. They want my muscles to look as obvious as possible. I can only do that if I don’t eat beforehand.”

“I knew you were lying, last night, I just knew it.” She curses. “You never eat anything remotely unhealthy; I should have known when you mentioned McDonalds!” Nervously, she thinks she probably shouldn’t be berating him like this when she has a rather big secret of her own to reveal.

He’s saved from answering (and receiving one of her patented rants on the subject of eating disorders) when the driver announces that they have arrived at their destination: a restaurant that they frequent for lunch. He helps her out of the car, waiting patiently as she pulls her coat off. He doesn’t notice how she holds her bag over her stomach protectively, hiding it from view.

“Well, I’m going to eat now, so could we maybe skip the lecture?” He pleads, smiling distractedly at the maître d’, who recognises them immediately. As he snaps his fingers for a waiter, he takes the chance to look at Hyerin properly. She’s still not fully paying attention to their little lunch date, something that would usually just be mildly irritating, but today is worrying. She’s not herself at all.

Usually, she’d be making some stupid comment about how often they come here, but instead, she’s pale, lips pressed together as if refusing to speak. “Hyerin? Are you sick?” He places the back of his hand on her forehead, but she doesn’t have a temperature.

She opens – for once, her stomach plays nice and does not revolt at the smell of food – and speaks. “I’m fine. Really. And sure, we can skip the lecture.” She tells him, as they are led by a smartly dressed woman, over to the table by the window they have claimed as theirs.

“I don’t believe you.” Siwon narrows his eyes, as they sit down in their seats. He shoos away the waitress with a presumptuous hand.

“Hey, I was ready to order!” She protests. (She’s not really ready at all, but she figured dithering over the choices would give her enough time to prepare her speech and distract Siwon from worrying)

“Bull.” He rolls his eyes. “Hyerin, you never decide what to eat until I force you to.” He heaves a sigh. “Now, you haven’t been yourself since I picked you up this morning. Will you stop pretending you’re fine and just bloody well give me an answer? I’m tired of watching you play philosopher.”

Oh god. It’s now or never. The moment of doom is upon her. “Um…” she starts ever so eloquently, unable to look Siwon in the face. “.” She can feel the bile rising up , and she throws the napkin she’d been fiddling with down to run to the bathroom.

As she skids into the ladies bathroom, she thanks the little horror (she’s decided to rename it in favour of how it’s acting) for letting her get to the bathroom before she throws up that ty cup of tea. God knows, there’s nothing else in her stomach.

After she empties her stomach into the ridiculously clean toilet bowl (not that it hasn’t seen its fair share of vomit, she supposes, what with all the models who come here), she spends a minute washing her hands, brushing her teeth (she never leaves the house without a toothbrush now) and pretending that she has a reason to hide out in the bathroom. After a full five minutes of doing nothing but staring at her reflection in the mirror, she decides she’s been cowardly enough for one day. She can do this! She can walk out of that door, stride back over to their table and admit that she’s knocked up to the possible father of her baby (although it’s a very tenuous possibility…). She can!

Or maybe she can just walk right out that door. Either way, she can do this.

She’s tempted to run as soon as she pokes her head out of the bathroom, because Siwon is there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He looks hot, her hazy, hormonal-addled mind notices, before it realises oh , Siwon’s here, we need to run.

“Would you like to explain to me why you just spent ten minutes throwing up in the bathroom?” He asks smoothly, one eyebrow raised. . This is worse than imagining her mother finding out. “And don’t try to pretend you weren’t, I heard you.”

She decides to go for the stupid response. “No, I would not like to explain why I was throwing up.” She says, attempting to walk back to their table and –and…somehow direct the topic back to Zhou Mi. Or something. He follows her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She shrugs it off, choosing to sit down in her seat in place of looking at him. “So, I think we should call the waitress ba –“

“I don’t think we should.” He cuts her off. “I think we should discuss you throwing up when you said you were fine. You know, when I lie to you, at least it’s only about something that isn’t dangerous.”

“It is dangerous!” She exclaims. “Not eating is bad for your body!”

“As is throwing up to lose weight!” He argues. Oh. Oh. He thinks she’s bulimic. Well, it’s not that far off…she can’t keep anything down. It’s just not by choice.

“I’m not throwing up to lose weight.” She says quietly, glancing around the restaurant to check that no one’s listening in.

“Then…why?” He looks utterly confused. It’s rather cute, she supposes. But if the baby is his, she really hopes it doesn’t get his eyebrows. That’s not fair to any kid.

She stares down at her empty plate. “Why do you think?” For once, her voice rings out clearly. Look, you little horror, she thinks, I’m actually about to acknowledge your existence. Could you please let mommy eat something without throwing up all over your potential father?

“I…don’t know what to think.” He says slowly. There’s no indication of what he’s thinking in his tone, something which unnerves her. “You tell me.”

She’s tempted to say something childish like ‘I hate you’, but that’s not exactly becoming of a mother-to-be, nor is it really fair. “It’s not that hard.” Hard. Haha. It was the night she got pregnant, she thinks morosely. “Take a wild guess.” She mutters bitterly. “I’m throwing up, I’m not myself – I’m even more away with the fairies than usual. What could those things possibly mean?”

She can tell he really, really wants it to be some kind of disease, which is both quite insulting, yet unfortunately understandable. “Are you telling me that you’re…” He can’t even finish the sentence.

“With child?” Who the uses that phrase? “Yes. I am.” She says stiffly.

There’s a terribly tense silence. Couldn’t he just laugh at her archaic way of referring to her situation? That would make things a lot easier. Not that her life appears to want to go her way, so she’s not sure why she’s even asking things to work out.

“I-is it mine?” He looks like he wants to be sick. Hey, at least that makes two of them. Bloody typical that that would be the first thing he asks. Not how are you? Or are you okay with this?

“I don’t know.” She says shortly, plucking her napkin from the table again. It makes for a nice plaything. “If it’s any consolation, it’s more likely to be Hyunjae’s.” She decides against telling him that she’d really rather it was his. That would make things sound like she wanted to marry him or something, and it’s not like that’s what she’s after, and – she should stop thinking.

“But it could be mine?” He presses, sounding a little stronger than he did before.

“I guess?” Hey, the napkins have little silver stars in the corners! How come she never noticed that before?

The napkin is snatched away from her before she can discover anything else she’d missed. “Hyerin, will you ing well look at me!” Siwon hisses, mindful of the prying eyes of other tables. “This isn’t a ing joke, and if it is – “

“Do you honestly think I’d joke about something as awful as this?” drops open in shock as she stares at him. “I do not want to be pregnant, Siwon. I’m only telling you because I thought you ought to know. I wasn’t expecting anything.” There’s a strange lump in . “I’m not asking anything of you. I wouldn’t do that!” Her voice sounds shrill. Oh god. She sounds like her mother. . “We’ll manage just fine without you, thanks.”

When did she and this baby become we, all of a sudden?

“I-I…” Siwon seems at a loss for words. It makes her laugh, for some erse reason. She should have known he wouldn’t be able to take it. Why did she even want to tell him? Oh, because she thought he ought to know. Because she thought he’d stand by her, as a friend, like Narae said. Well, if Siwon took it like this, then she’s definitely not telling Hyunjae. From now on, her baby has no father.

It’ll be fine, she tells herself, as she tugs her shirt straight and grabs her bag again. Strangely, she’s not crying, even though she’s a total mess inside. The chair makes a horrible scraping noise as she pushes it back, but for once she doesn’t wince. She’s leaving. Siwon can deal with it however he wants to – she’s going to sever all ties. 

She managed without a father; so can her baby.