18 weeks

She doesn't want to get up; it feels too much like the morning after the night before, only this time, it wasn't a one-night stand. No. It was her wedding night.

It's a surreal thought. Barely a week ago, she was a woman about to have a baby out of wedlock, and now, she's a married mother-to-be with a ring on her finger and a marriage certificate. She married Siwon. Siwon. Her best friend, her sometimes lover, her – well, now, her husband.

She shuts her eyes, and tries not to think about it. If she thinks about it, she'll worry, and she'd rather not. She'd rather relax into the warmth of her bed, and the surprisingly comfortable feeling of Siwon's arms around her. He's asleep, she knows – he's a deep sleeper, always has been – but if she moves away, he'll wake up.

And she's not ready for the inevitable conversation that will follow their whirlwind romance (is romance even the right word?). She doesn't want to talk about telling people about their news, or sorting out a house, or readying themselves to become parents. She wants to run away to somewhere warm and exotic, with excellent room service and discreet staff. It's not too much to ask.

But, as always, there's something holding her back. Narae needs to know; in fact, she never intended to hide this from her, it's just...well, it was almost nice to have something that was just her own, for once. Something she could be the star of, without having to take second place to Narae's shining excellence, once again.

She has to attend Heejin's engagement party, too. There's no missing that, and honestly, she doesn't want to. Not because it's a party, but because it's Heejin's party, and while they may not be as close as she is with Heechul, she still wants to be there for her.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” Siwon's tired, sleep-laden voice invades her thoughts. “It's too early in the morning to be doing that.” He leans on one side, looking down at her with an amused smile.

She tries to smile back. “It's hardly early,” she says wryly, looking at the clock on the nightstand, “it's almost eleven.”

“And we spent most of the night in bed, not sleeping,” he counters pointedly, “and if we're not going to sleep, I'd rather be doing more of that.”

She laughs, trying to think of a way to vocalise all of her thoughts and fears without turning him off. As always, however, she fails to come up with anything, and when his hand slides down her thigh, a promise in his eyes, the delicious tingle of anticipation overrides everything else.

There's still time, she promises herself, time enough to do everything. Just after they have .

***

They waste what little of the morning they have left in bed, and eat a late brunch at the table, whipped up by her ever-accommodating housekeeper, who eyes Siwon with satisfaction, and smiles when he feeds her himself. Sungah has always had her best interests at heart, and – for some reason – has always liked Siwon.

“What's on the agenda for today, then?” He asks, his hand on her knee, under the table. “Or do I get to see more of you in bed?”

“I think you've already seen everything,” she says tartly, but that earns nothing but a wicked grin from the person in question. She sighs regretfully. “Unfortunately, you'll have to wait. I've got to get fitted for a dress.”

She fiddles with the tablecloth nervously. She's been dreading this – she's had a dress picked out for weeks, so they could make it to her specifications in time for Heejin's party. Of course, she picked it out just before she realised she was pregnant, and now, she's fairly sure there's no way it'll fit.

“I thought you already had, ages ago?” Siwon's brow furrows, and she curses him for being so dense. He's a model, for Christ's sake – his whole life revolves around being exactly the right size for the clothes he has to wear. Shouldn't he just know?

“Yes,” she mutters, cheeks heating with embarrassment, “but it's hardly going to fit now, is it?”

She almost feels like crying, and sometimes, that's the thing she hates most about housing this little parasite – the complete lack of control over her emotions.

He looks abashed when he realises what she means, still gives her a onceover. “I'm fairly sure it will still fit,” he tells her, voice soft. “And you know you'll still look beautiful.”

“It won't, though,” her voice cracks, and she growls in frustration. “I hate this! I hate that everything has to go all out of control for a stupid baby I don't even want. I hate crying, I hate getting fat – I just want to be normal, for 's sake!” closes before she can say any more, and before she can stop herself, tears start trickling down her face.

Siwon has his arms wrapped around her in less than a minute. He holds her close, easing her halfway into his lap, and gently her back. “You are normal,” he murmurs, “every pregnant woman in the world goes through this, but it's worth it in the end.”

She wishes she could tell him that she doesn't think it will be worth it in the end, but the warmth of his arms around her, and the way he always seems to think the best of her makes that an impossibility. “I'm so screwed,” she whispers, face tucked into the crook of his neck.

“You're not,” he lifts her hand up, so that her ring shines in the light. “See? You have me now, tied to you by law. I'm not going anywhere,” he laughs, lacing their fingers together. “I don't want to go anywhere.”

The words come without her even thinking them. “I don't want you to go anywhere, either,” she murmurs, shifting in his lap so that both her legs fall either side of his thighs. He looks up at her. “You're not allowed to leave me, okay?” She leans down, arms sliding around his neck, and whispers into his ear. “You're not allowed to.”

He swallows, hands pushing up her nightgown. “There's no chance of that,” he promises, as she tugs him free of his boxers, “none at all.”

***

Siwon tags along with her as she makes a visit to Zhou Mi's atelier, and she's glad to have him with her. If she wasn't so distracted by him and the things he does to her, she'd want Narae with her – but as she is distracted, Narae will have to wait.

She'll understand. At least, she hopes she will.

As she predicted, the dress does not fit. It's a painful admission, but as she stares at herself in the mirror of Zhou Mi's changing room, she knows she has to ask for help. She can't wear something that doesn't fit, and the event is too soon for her to find another dress.

She doesn't want to. She doesn't want to spend time in boutiques, wondering if someone is watching her; if someone is looking at her and judging her for taking a bigger size than she normally does. She's self-conscious – it's hard not to be, with a mother like hers – but it's as if the pregnancy has amped up every fear she has about herself.

So she calls for Zhou Mi, and stands there helplessly as he assesses her body. She knows he has to – that this is his job – but it feels like yet another failing when he says apologetically, “I think we'll have to get it taken out.”

She bites her lip to keep from saying anything, and lets him help her out of his creation without destroying it. He sends her off to one of his many minions, quick to reassure her they can get it fixed.

It doesn't help. It especially doesn't help when the girl taking her measurements is whippet-thin and striking, her hair dyed a bright, electric colour she would never dare to wear. She's quick and efficient, and has most of the measurements taken within a few minutes.

That is, until she gets to her waist. She supposes it would be her undoing.

“Does he know?” The girl asks, sending a covert glance over to where Siwon stands, animatedly chatting with Zhou Mi. “Your boyfriend?”

Hyerin raises an eyebrow. “Know what?” She lets the boyfriend thing slide; it might well work in their favour to let people think they're together before they unleash their bombshell.

She snorts, pulling the tape measure taut around her waist. Her glossed lips glisten in the recessed lights, as she gives her a coy smile. “That you're pregnant, of course.” She rolls her eyes. “You're not going to be able to hide it forever.” She tilts her head, surveying her body in a way that Hyerin would find insulting if this was any other situation. “You've got, oh, a month before it becomes obvious, I'd say.”

closes. “What the hell are you talking about?” She glances towards Siwon and Zhou Mi nervously, wondering if they can hear anything. “I'm not pregnant.”

The girl snorts again, sliding the tape measure down to her hips as she kneels. “Your body tells another story.” She reads the measurement out loud, jotting it down on the notebook next to her. “And there'll be no hiding it soon.”

As she walks off to let the seamstress know her measurements, Hyerin tries very hard to keep her breathing slow and even. Her legs feel weak, and as she steps forward, she can feel her stomach whirling. Siwon – in a rare moment of observation – seems to notice her dismay, and ends his conversation with Zhou Mi to stride on over to her. Zhou Mi watches them both curiously.

“Are you okay?” He asks, looking concerned. “Is something wrong? Is it the baby?” His hands flutter, and she knows that if he touches her stomach their secret will be out for the world to see. Siwon might not be observant, but Zhou Mi is, and though he'd never say anything, someone else might.

“No! No,” she pushes his hand away, clutching onto them for support. “She knows,” she hisses, voice shaking. “The girl who measured me, she knows!”

Siwon stares at her in confusion for a moment, before recognition lights in his eyes. “Sweetheart, it's fine, she won't tell anyone – ”

“It's not fine!” She's starting to sound hysterical, but she's petrified – all she can see is the amused grin as she told her there's no way of hiding it. “If she can tell, then everyone else will be able to, and we're screwed!”

He sighs, and she contemplates hitting him over the head for his inability to see the seriousness of the situation. Gently, he steers her towards the sign of the room, out of the sight of most of Zhou Mi's staff. “Look, it's fine,” he says, attempting to sound soothing. It doesn't work. “She's a dressmaker, they're trained to know women's bodies. She probably just sees a lot of pregnant women, and – ”

“Siwon, listen to me,” she can feel nausea bubbling up , and she has to close her arms and force it down in order to carry on. “It's not okay. If she knows, she can tell people, and then – ”

“And then what?” Siwon asks impatiently, not liking how stressed she is. He pulls her close, kissing the top of her head in an attempt to calm her down; it doesn't work – he can feel her shivering against him. “So what if she tells anyone? It won't matter when we tell everyone we're married. What will they do then?”

She rests her head against his chest, wishing she could be as optimistic as he is. Unfortunately, it's not a part of her genetic makeup. “I don't know,” she whispers, as he her hair softly, “I'm just so scared.”

He hums in agreement. “I know, darling, I know, but it's honestly going to be fine. You can't stress yourself out, you know that.” She dreads the next words she knows are going to come out of his mouth. “It's bad for the baby.”

If he notices her stiffening, he makes no sign of it. “Yeah,” she says, “I know.”

Zhou Mi, by now too curious to let their little tiff go, joins them. “Is everything alright?” He asks carefully, those clever eyes of his appraising every little detail. She wonders if he can tell she's pregnant just by looking at her, too.

She nods, still staying close to Siwon. “I just had a silly reaction to something the girl measuring me said.” She waves it off, letting a wry smile settle on her face.

A frown creases in between Zhou Mi's eyebrows. “What did she say?” He says, sounding more than a little displeased. “If she's offended you, I can have a chat with her.” They all know what having a chat means; she'll be out the door within five seconds, if Zhou Mi wills it. She's malicious enough to consider it, but holds back – getting her fired will give her even more of an excuse to spread the news that Song Hyerin is pregnant around.

She shakes her head. “It's nothing, Mi.” He doesn't look convinced, so she pushes on. “I'm just not in a good mood today.”

“Hmm,” he gives her a probing look, but when she says nothing further, he lets it go. “Well, if she got the measurements right, then we'll be able to alter the dress by tonight.” He smiles, flashing perfect white teeth. “I'll get on it myself.”

She rests a hand on his arm, Siwon's around her waist. “You're a good friend.”

Zhou Mi shrugs. “It's nothing. I can't have my friends looking anything but beautiful. It reflects badly on me.” He flashes another brilliant smile, enough to make it seem like he's teasing. She knows, however, that it's a half-truth.

Friendship among their kind is never truly free of strings.

“Thank you,” she says anyway. “It means a lot.”

The piercing look he gives her makes her feel uncomfortable. “I know it does.”

***

Siwon helps her into the altered dress himself, hands skimming her exposed skin and lingering in places he knows make her tingle. It ends with it half off as his finger slides inside of her, gently as she leans up against him.

She turns her head to kiss him as he does it, smirking against his lips as he slips another finger in. “I know we're newlyweds,” she says, voice a little husky, “but this is getting slightly ridiculous.”

He curls his fingers inside of her, thumb rubbing up against her . She almost purrs in satisfaction, all thoughts of meddling seamstresses and altered dresses forgotten as he teases her. “I disagree. I think this is fun,” he murmurs, pressing his thumb harder. She shudders.

“I never said it wasn't fun,” she sighs, body going pliant as his fingers slow down. She knows they have to stop, or he'll end up flat on his back on the floor as she rides him. It's happened before, and while it most definitely enjoyable, they don't have time. “We have to get ready.”

“Oh, of course.” He grins devilishly, fingers stopping completely. He makes to move his hand away, but hers clamps down on it before he can.

“No,” she says, a warning note to her voice. Perhaps they're not wrong when they say the fourth month is all about . “You finish what you started.”

He seems to like the authoritative tone. “Yes, my lady,” she rolls her eyes at the use of my lady; he likes to pull it out when she's being particularly demanding, but forgets all about it when he resumes his ministrations.

She loves how good he is at getting her off.

***

He zips her up quickly after they're finished, holding her at arms length afterwards to proclaim her the most gorgeous woman in existence. It should make her blush and tell him to shut up, but instead, she just feels awkward.

She's not the most beautiful woman in the room, and she never has been. And after this baby, she never will be. It's a sobering thought.

“I'll do,” she mutters, and pushes him off to get dressed himself. He collected his own suit while they were out, and while they'll have to think about getting the rest of his clothes over here – if they're even going to live in her apartment – for now he's fine.

As he leaves the room, she takes a deep breath, and settles down at her dressing table. The mirror reflects her worried face back at her, and she frowns when she sees the beginnings of several spots on her skin. Her skin is sallow and slightly sickly looking, highlighted by dark under-eye circles, and – at least to her critical eye – it almost seems as if her face is getting...fuller.

There's no sign of the mythical 'glow' pregnant women are supposed to have, but it was unlikely she was going to get anything good from this hell.

She honestly has no idea what Siwon finds so attractive about her, but she busies herself moisturising instead, vowing to make the horrible face in the mirror disappear. She's good at making herself look better than she is; her mother schooled her in the art of illusion from a very early age. When most girls were playing with their first lipstick, she was wearing full foundation and powder, a neutral eye and light coating of lipgloss.

Park Gayoon couldn't have an ugly daughter, after all.

She's starting on her lips by the time Siwon comes back, looking perfect in his tux – as always. She can't help the undercurrent of envy. Why does he always have to look so good, when she has to put so much effort into looking merely pretty?

The art of looking good is all about making it seem natural, of course, but today, she decides to be bold. Maybe red lips will distract people from her rapidly expanding waistline. Siwon watches, fascinated, as she lines her lips neatly, wiping away any smudges with practised ease.

She's not sure why he's so interested. He's seen people put makeup on a million times – he even has his own done on a regular basis. This is nothing new.

He seems to read her thoughts. “You always look so elegant when you do your makeup,” he tells her, sitting on the chaise longue at the end of her bed. Minki hops up to join him, rubbing his head up against his knee, and the sound of purring fills the room as he scratches the cat's ears.

Minki has always been a fickle creature. He likes anyone who pays him enough attention.

She pauses before applying her lipstick. “I don't,” she says quietly, sending a disparaging look at her reflection.

The way he looks at her forces her to turn away. It means too much. “You do,” he repeats softly, insistent despite the gentle tone.

She doesn't respond, unsure what to say. When he does – says – things like this, she never knows how to feel. The idea that she might mean something to him has always been hard to stomach. She knows her worth, of course – what rich girl doesn't? – but meaning something is entirely different. And their relationship has changed so irrevocably that she can't handle anything more right now.

She doesn't need him to love her; she just needs him to stay.

***

They take his limo to the event – held at Heejin's father's (and her ex-stepfather's) impressive home. It's always strange to come back to it, when once – years ago – it was her home, too.

But the only ties she has to it now are Heejin and Heechul, and Heechul won't even be attending the party tonight. He couldn't get away from his training – though she knows he tried. Missing his older sister's engagement party is not something Heechul would want to do.

She wishes he was coming. If he was there, she'd feel safer. Heechul would never let anything happen to his baby sister, not if he can help it. Still – it's probably better to keep her illicit marriage to Siwon from him for as long as she can. She's not quite sure she's ready to hear his thoughts on the subject, though he'll jump on board once he hear she's pregnant.

What would he have said, if she'd told him in that phonecall, she wonders? Would he have been supportive, or would he have been as judgemental as her mother? She'll never know. He'll just assume that she and Siwon made a mistake, and rectified it.

The room they are led into is opulent, to say the least, and so full of people that she feels flushed as she steps into it. No one is very surprised to see her on Siwon's arm – they often attend parties together – and they have no plans to reveal their marriage tonight, not when it's Heejin's big day. They smile and greet several familiar faces, and linger to chat with a particular friend of Siwon's family.

As he deftly fends off questions about when he's going to take over his father's company, she searches the crowd for Narae. She feels guilty for coming without her; it's not as if they do absolutely everything together, but they've been out of contact for a little longer than usual, and so much has happened that she needs to apprise her of. They usually know everything about each other's lives, and this is a very big secret to keep.

Instead, she just finds a crowd of indistinguishable faces, interspersed with silent waiters, who walk around with trays of champagne and canapés. Not for the first time, she wishes she could drink something stronger than water. Her fingers itch to hold a glass of champagne; her stomach would settle if there was some alcohol in it. And if she were drinking, it would be so much easier to stand in front of her ex-stepsister and congratulate her on her upcoming nuptials.

It's not that she doesn't like Heejin. She's always been fond of her – like Heechul, her stepsister has a fashionable sort of insouciance she's never been able to pull off. She's sardonic and coldly beautiful, and though Hyerin's mother hated having to play stepmother, she grudgingly respected Heejin's stylishness.

Hyerin, of course, could never match up. And she certainly can't match up right now, she thinks dryly; she's in a dress that had to be let out because her body is expanding at an alarming rate, and she's pregnant with someone's illegitimate baby. Heejin – much like Narae – has always known that she will get what she wants.

Narae could make leather and dark lipliner look classy; Hyerin would just look cheap. It's something that has always plagued her mother – an exasperated sigh, maybe an eye-roll as she bemoans the state of Hyerin's wardrobe. Why can't you be more like Narae? Why do you have to wear so much red, it drains you. And if she was feeling really cruel, maybe Not the lace, darling. It adds weight. The suffix to that perfectly-veiled insult was always and you really don't need that, but it would have been crass to say it out loud.

With Park Gayoon, it's always about what is left unsaid – and that's the only reason the society ladies let her be. It's not as if any of them would be sad to see her fall – but then everyone enjoys seeing their friends dethroned. It's an excellent confidence boost.

The thought of her mother has her twitching nervously, and even with Siwon's hand on her back, she cannot steady herself. She'll be here, she knows – it would be a huge social faux pas not to attend, and Park Gayoon – unlike her daughter – does not commit social suicide.

But of course, if you speak of the devil, they will appear, and as a particularly young-looking waitress wends her way through the crowd, tray of canapés held on one hand, she catches a glimpse of her mother. She curses, just loudly enough for Siwon to hear, and he turns to look at her.

“What's wrong?” He whispers, shooting an apologetic smile at the woman he was talking to.

She just nods towards where her mother is standing, feeling sick. “I don't want to talk to her,” she mutters, feeling like a caged animal. The room is suddenly too small, too claustrophobic, and she is on the verge of excusing herself to go to the ladies' room, when her mother makes eye contact.

It's strange how one look from her mother can turn her to stone. Siwon squeezes her hand, putting a comforting arm around her. “There's nothing she can do, remember?” He reminds her, returning to his conversation about the pros and cons of having a holiday home in the Hamptons.

His arm does not make her feel safe, but it is a good shield as her mother glides her way over to them. She is polite enough to greet the rest of their little group first, but quick to use maternal concern as a reason to drag her away. Even Siwon attempting to entice her into a conversation doesn't work, and she contents herself with sending him a distraught look as she is pulled away.

“What on earth are you doing, cavorting around with that Choi boy?” Her mother hisses as soon as they're out of sight, eyes narrowed into snake-like slits. “Are you trying to drag him into your mess, too? I told you to get rid of the damn thing, and Hyerin, I will not have you drag our name through the mud.”

Hyerin hears the words unsaid; because you're not worth exiling myself for. “Siwon, for your information, was already a part of this mess,” she whispers angrily, hyper-aware of any curious eavesdroppers. “And he wants to stick around and help me drag myself out of this mess, so shut the up, mother.”

Gayoon gasps, though whether that is at the expletive, or Hyerin having told her to shut up, she doesn't know. “Don't be stupid,” she laughs, her mocking, you're-such-an-idiot laugh – the one she always used to laugh when Hyerin asked for her help in anything. “He doesn't care. Men never do.” She gives the most un-ladylike snort Hyerin's ever seen, her lips a tight, plastic line.

She doesn't even look real. She looks like a doll. Cougar Barbie, here to destroy the confidence of her unwanted daughter, yet again.

“He'll tell you whatever he wants so that he can have fun with you, and then he'll run away when it gets too real.” The words are cruel, but there is an undercurrent of experience; a slight, grudging exchange of knowledge. “You have to keep them on their toes, you little fool. But instead, you've given him everything he wants, and the excuse to run away consequence-free.” She sighs. “Don't you know anything?”

“Siwon's not like that.” The words sound feeble even to her own ears. “He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't.”

“Are you trying to convince me or you? Because it sounds very much like you're trying to convince yourself, my darling.” Her mother smiles nastily. “And I don't think it's working.”

It's time to pull out her trump card, she decides. “Well, he married me, mother, so I don't think there's any need to convince myself of anything.” Her voice is tight; there is less triumph than she thought she'd feel.

Her mother actually looks somewhat surprised – well, her eyes do; the rest of her face just stretches, the skin looking faintly metallic in the muted light. “You married him?”

She raises her chin. “Yes.” She says defiantly.

“Stupid girl,” Gayoon shakes her head, looking exasperated. “A marriage is so easy to dissolve.” She'd know, Hyerin thinks darkly – what is she on now? Number five? “It won't save you.”

“Maybe I don't need saving,” she snaps, the thin line between irritation and anger finally breaking. “I can make my own way.”

Her mother's icy snort sends a shiver down her spine. “Oh, darling. You're a woman,” she turns to leave, bracelet tinkling as she tucks a curl behind Hyerin's ear, “you're always going to need saving.”

The words linger in the air as her mother wafts away, laughing.

***

She doesn't feel like going back to Siwon after that. She trusts him, she reassures herself, but she doesn't want to spend the rest of the night with him as her mother watches her smugly, secure in the knowledge that – as she always does – she's destroyed her daughter's confidence.

The party is livening up, however, and she is able to find a waiter with a tray of non-alcoholic drinks. It's some kind of alcohol free cocktail, a mixture of several different juices, and – under normal circumstances – she'd probably be able to stomach it, but the sugar makes her feel nauseous. She sets the drink down on a side table, instead, scanning the crowd for someone she'd actually like to talk to.

She'd love to congratulate Heejin, but she doesn't feel ready – not now, when her nerves are shredded and Heejin looks so impossibly beautiful. She feels ugly beside her. Ugly and fat.

So she stays on the edge of the party, feeling like a lost little girl waiting for somebody to pick her up. She could go back to Siwon, she knows – if she told him she wasn't feeling up to it, he'd have his limo arrive instantly, and they could go home with no fuss at all.

But that won't do, and she doesn't want to think about how he makes her feel – or how, according to her mother – he's going to leave her. What she really wants is someone to tell her it's all going to be okay; someone who will be by her side no matter what, someone who can fix things. The only person who can come close is Narae, and while she loves her best friend...she can't fix things. She'll be beside her, she knows; but that faint air of disapproval will hang over her – the knowledge that Narae doesn't understand her apathy towards this baby will make her feel even worse, and yet – there's no one she wants more right now.

Unlike her mother, however, Narae does not magically appear as soon as she thinks of her, and so – screwing up as much courage as she can – she heads towards someone she is fairly sure is Kyuhyun. He might know where Narae is, and if not, she knows he'll know where Zhou Mi is. They almost seem to have a sixth sense about one another.

Kyuhyun is drinking alone when she finds him, which is unlike him. Usually, he'd be surrounded by a gaggle of beautiful people – a gaggle of beautiful people he was intending to sleep with, of course. He nods towards her. “You look good.”

She's not sure if it's a real compliment or not; it could just be general courtesy. She thanks him anyway. “Thanks. You've scrubbed up well too.”

He gives her a sardonic half-smile. “I always do.”

Screw the pleasantries, she decides. She likes Kyu – she really does – but the guilt of keeping her best friend in the dark is getting to her. “Have you seen Narae?” She asks, smiling a little guiltily.

Kyuhyun raises an eyebrow. “I would have thought she'd be with you. Trouble in paradise?” His sarcastic smirk mirrors Zhou Mi's gleaming smile, and she wonders just how much they share in that warped little relationship of theirs.

“No,” she rolls her eyes, well-used to Kyuhyun's digs. “I came with Siwon.”

“Ah, yes,” he laughs, eyes glittering with mischief. “Your beloved boyfriend.” He shakes his head. “I should have known,” he says in mock-seriousness.

Her forehead creases as she regards him with a puzzled, but amused expression. “You're the second person who's called him my boyfriend today. What's going on?”

He looks genuinely surprised at this. “You haven't seen it?”

“Seen what?” She asks, genuinely confused.

“This,” he plays with his phone for a moment, scrolling down, before handing it to her. “It's a Gossip Girl blast. She says he gave you a hickey,” he grins, his lips suggestively, “but I'm sure he did worse.”

She rolls her eyes at him again, but takes the phone, scanning the blast quickly. The slight fear dissipates when it reads as nothing but speculation about their relationship. She wonders what to tell Kyuhyun. Should she just admit that they have a relationship? He's going to find out they have something sooner or later. “Well,” she says wryly, touching her neck self-consciously, “at least she's got one thing right.”

“My dear, are you admitting that you and Siwon...” Kyuhyun pauses dramatically, and she fights the urge to chuckle, “...are a thing at last?”

“What do you mean at last?”

“Oh, come on,” Kyuhyun groans, delighting in the drama of it all, “please don't tell me you're not aware you've been mooning after each other since practically forever?”

“I don't think that's how it's been,” she says curtly, but privately, she considers the idea that he might be right. Have they always been circling each other, too afraid to go any further?

“Mhm,” Kyuhyun grunts disbelievingly, “you keep thinking that.” He smiles. “I suppose I should congratulate you on finally getting it together? Or is it just ?”

She has no idea how to answer that, seeing as their relationship has mostly consisted of so far. “I don't...think so?” She doesn't know why it comes out as a question, but Kyuhyun doesn't seem to care.

“We should have a drink together in celebration,” he winks, as if to say like I need an excuse to celebrate, and imperiously waves over a nervous-looking waiter.

Her stomach ties itself in knots. She shakes her head as the boy offers a glass, lips pressed tightly together, and Kyuhun watches her, surprised. “You're not going to have one?”

“I'm off alcohol,” she tells him, ready with the diet excuse, but he doesn't ask for it.

“Oh.” He says instead, watching her with the same calculating interest she saw in Zhou Mi's eyes. “Well, I'll celebrate for you, then.”

He downs the glass in several gulps, and she laughs nervously, hoping he'll forget the incident with the alcohol. Alone, it doesn't mean anything...but she's leaving a trail of breadcrumbs, and her friends aren't stupid. Everyone here knows how to put two and two together, especially when it results in a huge scandal, and she's getting closer and closer to being found out.

Of course, she has no idea just how close she is.

***

Kyuhyun joins her when she sets off to find Siwon, grabbing another glass of champagne from the nearest tray as they wind through the groups of chatting people. Her stomach rumbles in hunger as she passes yet another tray of canapés, but she abstains, too haunted by the extra weight on her cheeks.

Siwon looks far too happy to see her when she returns, and Kyuhyun snorts into his glass when he immediately wraps an arm around her. “You guys aren't subtle,” he says, watching the reactions of the other guests around them. Siwon furrows his eyebrows.

“What do you mean we're not subtle? We've always been like this.”

“Exactly,” Kyuhyun says mysteriously, and Hyerin takes his next glass of champagne off of him as soon as he picks it up.

“You've had too much already,” she tells him, disapproving. “You're getting all wired.”

“I'm fine, mum,” Kyuhyun mutters, thankfully missing the horrified expression on her face as he calls her mum.

Shouldn't she be happy to hear that word? Because really, it just makes her feel sick.

“You're not,” Siwon decides to join in on the fun, taking the glass from Hyerin. Maybe he thinks she'll drink it if she holds on to it for too long. She has to admit, she was considering it. “You're drinking too quickly.”

Kyuhyun splutters. “Seriously, live a little, you two! It's like as soon as you finally get together, you're acting like a boring old married couple.”

She shares a glance with Siwon, wondering if Kyuhyun knows just how close he's cutting to the mark. “We're not boring. We just don't want to drag you home, pissed out of your mind. It's my sister's engagement party, in case you've forgotten. I'd like it to go well for her.”

“Ex-stepsister,” Kyuhyun grumbles sulkily.

She sighs in exasperation. “Same thing.” She trails off when she notices people turning to look at a raised dais. It's obviously time for the speeches. “Anyway, shush.”

Kyuhyun shuts his mouth, because he has enough decorum to go along with a speech, and they all turn to watch as Heejin and Heechul's father ascends the stairs.

He taps the microphone, smiling at the throng of people all staring up at him. Never let it be said that the Kim family don't have theatrical sensibilities. As he opens his mouth, however, everyone's attention is taken up by the sound of hundreds of mobile phones buzzing.

She almost groans. How does Gossip Girl do it? She always manages to send her blasts out at exactly the wrong moment – or the right one, if you're looking for attention. Mr. Kim watches in dismay as people start excitedly checking their phones, resigned to the fact that nobody will listen to him until they've had their fill of gossip.

It doesn't take long. Soon, enough people have read the blast to inform their neighbours of the news, and a swarm of people all start twisting and craning their necks to get a look at the poor sap who's been victimised now.

What she's not expecting, however, is for the beady-eyed stares and whispers to be focused on her. runs dry, and soon, her worst fears are confirmed when Kyuhyun taps her on the shoulder, face uneasy. He holds his phone out. “Er, Hyerin, it's about you.” As Siwon looks at him in horror, he adds, “and you, Siwon.”

She stares down at the phone, a mounting sense of dread rising in her stomach.

It's her worst fear, realised.

***

Two's company, but three's a crowd, or so they say. Our precious little sweetheart Song Hyerin is in Papa Don’t Preach territory…only there are two potential daddies.

Maybe little H should have kept it in her pants. Who knows what an illegitimate baby could do to Kim Hyunjae’s reputation…or, indeed, Choi Siwon’s?

Who's the daddy, H? All bets are off now.

Stay tuned for more updates. This is a story that everyone’s going to want to know the ending to.

X.O.X.O., Gossip Girl

***

There is no other word for it. She quite literally flees the room, Siwon in tow. Kyuhyun – though obviously still shocked by the blast – helps to shove them through the crowd, although she doesn't appreciate him yelling “Make way, lady with a baby.” She's fairly sure that just made the entire situation worse.

Siwon is on his phone the minute they make it to the hallway, a commanding tone she rarely hears from him in his voice. “I want it now, Jinki, do you understand? I don't care how many illegal U-turns you have to make, just get here now.”

She can barely even think, let alone register what's going on, and when he gently sets her coat on her shoulders, she looks up at him in surprise. She didn't even notice him getting them. “Come on, baby,” he says, as she clutches onto the sleeve of her coat. “We've got to get in the car.”

He directs her towards the limo, a protective arm around her waist, as if she's so fragile that she'll fall over if he lets her go. Normally, she'd resent being coddled in such a way, but right now, she's so lost, she actually appreciates the help.

She can feel the weight of a thousand eyes on them as they slide into the car; she can hear the whispering start already. I thought she'd put on some weight. Imagine, not knowing who the father is! . . Thank god we're nothing like her.

It's all too much, almost a physical pressure on her skull, and she presses the heels of her hands into her eyes, trying to force the whispers away. No. How could this happen?

Who even knew there were two potential fathers? She only told Narae, and Siwon, and neither one of them would have ratted out on her to Gossip Girl.

She's so, so ed.

***

The journey back to her apartment seems to take longer than normal, and as they pull up in the expensive parking lot, she is irrationally afraid that people will point and laugh as she gets out of the car. It's a ridiculous thought, of course – the people who live here are too well-bred to point and laugh.

They're far more likely to whisper behind their hands and shun her.

She presses the button for the lift lifelessly, too drained to even think of taking the stairs. Siwon stands behind her, hovering, and she knows he's trying to think of something that will make the both of them feel better.

There's nothing that will make this better, though, and they both know it.

The ride up to her apartment is silent, and Sungah answers the door immediately, the sorrow in her eyes making it clear she's read the blast. “I'm sorry, Hyerin,” she says softly, and she doesn't even bat an eyelid at the familiarity.

Sungah's always felt more like family than her actual relatives, after all.

She waves the comment off as Sungah takes her coat, tears already threatening. “It's not your fault,” she says. It's mine. She says nothing more, mind still churning as she walks into her living room.

“What am I going to do?” Siwon follows her into the room, letting Sungah shut the door. She knows her place; and her place is to eavesdrop out of her mistress' sight. “Siwon, what the hell am I going to do?”

She crosses her arms, staring out of the large window that makes up the back wall of her living room. “I have no idea what to do,” she chokes, fingers gripping into the sides of her arms.

He puts a hand on her shoulders, but she doesn't turn to hold it, merely looks up at him, trying desperately to keep the tears from coming. She can't. Not even in front of Siwon, or even Narae. She has to be strong. She has to show the world that she's not ashamed and they haven't crushed her.

But that hand... It's so gentle, just a reminder that he's here, and it's almost enough to have her sobbing. Her mother's words – no matter how hard she tried to ignore them – have taken a hold in her mind, and all she can remember is that malicious smile. Marriage is so easy to dissolve. And it is.

“I'm still here,” he says quietly. “I'm not going anywhere.”

But you will, that nasty, malevolent voice that sounds so much like her mother whispers in her mind. She wants to ignore it – to believe in Siwon – but it's almost impossible. Her perfect escape plan – ruined, by one little post on Gossip girl.

“Hyerin...” His voice is hesitant, as if he's groping for the right thing to say. “Hyerin, please.”

A flash of irritation flits through her. Why should he act as if he's been hurt – he's not the one who's chances of any kind of life have been destroyed, he's not the one everyone's laughing at. “What do you want me to say?” She laughs, the sound miserable and hollow in the big, empty room.

“I want you to look at me,” he says, calmly. He waits for her to turn around; she does so, reluctantly. She's not sure there's anything he can say that will make this any better. He tilts her chin upwards with a finger – the gesture is perhaps a little too juvenile, like a parent forcing a sulky child to look at them – but she bites back the angry retort, and simply stares back up at him. “You've got me,” he places his other hand on her back, letting go of her chin to keep them together in a loose embrace. “They can't do anything if we say the baby's mine.”

“What if it isn't?” She asks dully, unable to relax into his arms as she has been for the past few days. She was so stupid. She should have known it would never work – should have known that everything would fall to pieces, because that's what life does.

But she couldn't help it. It all seemed so perfect.

“I told you it didn't matter,” he says sharply, offended by her lack of faith in his honour. “Look,” he pulls her hand against her stomach – not noticing her faint recoil – and places his own on top of it, “we're married now. What's mine is yours. They can't take that away unless we divorce, and I'm not going to divorce you.”

“You say that now.” The words are bitter, but then she has a right to be. Who is she supposed to compare him to? Her absent father? Her numerous step-fathers? Or maybe, she's supposed to compare him thousands of cheating spouses that make up their particular slice of society. He's a good match for her; handsome, rich – but not rich enough to make her personal wealth look insignificant.

It doesn't matter about loving each other. It just matters about economics – about a shared outlook on life. If you have a comfortable life, then you've done well.

Was that was she was doing, when she married him? She wants to say no – but what else could it be, when she saw the opportunity, and took it greedily?

“I don't want to divorce you,” he grabs a hold of her hand, keeping her from running away. Secretly, she's just glad to keep his hands away from her swelling stomach. “Don't you get it?” He looks so intense, it actually keeps her from speaking. “I'm glad to have married you. And it's not just because we're friends. It's because we – ” He trails off in frustration, unsure how to explain his feelings. “We work, Hyerin. You know we do. Me and you, we just...fit.”

She can feel the tears threatening again, though she's not sure whether it's because she's scared, or just because her body has a vendetta against her. “That doesn't mean anything!” She tugs her hand out of his grasp, intending to flounce away with as much dignity as she can, so that she can cry into her pillow without him seeing, but he kisses her instead, insistent fingers loosening her hair from its perfect updo.

There's a desperation to the kiss, a need to push away everything that scares them by pretending all they need is one another, and she responds without thinking, because this is what she wants. She doesn't want to think, doesn't want to talk, doesn't want to cry – she just wants to wrap herself around him and take all she can from his desire for her.

“Please, just trust me,” he murmurs, pressing his forehead against hers. Their fingers interlink, and she takes a moment to catch her breath.

“I don't trust anyone.” She hates how her voice catches.

“You can trust me,” he promises, voice as sweet as honey; she almost believes him. “I'll always be here. You and me, okay? It'll be you and me against the horde of photographers, and we'll make it. I'll take you away, and we'll escape.”

“Anywhere?” She laughs, a little breathlessly. “That's a tall order.” She wants to believe in him – so, so badly – but it's too hard.

“Anywhere,” he echoes, kissing her again. It's a ploy, she knows – a way to distract her from asking more questions he can't answer – but she gets caught up in it all the same.

His hands linger on her waist, her hips, travelling upwards, then down – and then, once again, they end up on her belly. She tries not to shiver. “It'll be you, me, and baby,” he tells her, in the brief space between kisses, “no one will tear us apart.”

She can't tell if the tears that finally spill are of relief or terror.