Two lines.
Han Seo sat on the edge of the bathtub and stared at the pregnancy test. She checked the box, then the test, then the box again. Two lines. There was no other way to read it.
"I'm pregnant," she said out loud, to nobody.
It didn't sound real. She had rent due on the first, a manager who watched the clock, and almost no savings. The timing couldn't have been worse. And that still wasn't the real problem.
The real problem was the father.
She set the test on the sink and covered her face with both hands.
"Min Yoongi," she said into her palms. "You have got to be kidding me."
Yoongi was an idol. She had listened to his songs for three years and watched every interview she could find. She had never expected to meet him. And two months ago, she had done a lot more than meet him.
It had started with a text.
She was on the couch that evening, scrolling through her phone, when a message came in from a number she didn't know.
*Your boyfriend is cheating on you.*
She frowned. Before she could decide what to do, another one arrived.
*He's with your best friend. Right now.*
*Who is this?* she typed.
No answer.
She put the phone down, picked it up, and put it down again. Daehyun would never do that. They had been together almost two years. And Yerin had been her best friend since high school.
"It's a prank," she told the empty room. "Someone's being cruel."
But she opened the location app anyway. Daehyun had said he was working late. His dot was sitting in an apartment building across town.
She called him. It rang out. She called again and got voicemail.
Twenty minutes later she was standing in a hallway, knocking on a door.
"Daehyun? Oppa?"
Nobody answered. She tried the handle and it turned. The door wasn't locked.
The first thing she saw inside was a pair of white sneakers by the entrance, with a small heart drawn on the heel in black marker. Seo knew that heart. She had drawn it herself when they were sixteen.
"No," she whispered. "No, no."
A man's shirt was on the floor, and a woman's jacket she recognized. Then she heard laughing from the bedroom. She pushed the door open.
Daehyun was in bed. Yerin was next to him, pulling the blanket up to her chin.
Nobody spoke for a long moment.
"Seo," Daehyun said finally. He scrambled out of bed, grabbing his pants. "Seo, wait. Let me explain."
"Explain what?" Her voice came out flat. "Go ahead. I'm listening."
"It's not what it looks like."
"Then what is it?"
He opened his mouth and closed it again.
Seo looked past him. "Yerin?"
Yerin wouldn't meet her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "It just happened."
"It just happened," Seo repeated. "For how long?"
Neither of them answered.
"That long, then." She nodded slowly. "Okay."
"Seo, please." Daehyun reached for her arm.
"Don't touch me."
She left. She made it down the stairs and out to the street before she started crying, and once she started she couldn't stop. Her phone kept buzzing. Daehyun. Daehyun. Yerin. She switched it to silent and kept walking without knowing where she was going.
Eventually she stopped in front of a club, the bass rattling the sidewalk. She had never gone to a place like this alone. She wiped her face on her sleeve and went in anyway.
It was loud and hot and packed with people. She squeezed through to the bar and took the only empty stool.
"What can I get you?" the bartender shouted.
"Something strong. Anything."
He set a glass in front of her and she drank half of it at once. It burned all the way down. Good. She wanted to feel something other than the last hour.
"Rough night?"
A man had taken the stool two seats over. He wore a black hoodie with the hood up and a mask pulled down under his chin. He wasn't looking at her, just at his drink.
"Is it that obvious?" she asked.
"You've been glaring at that glass like it owes you money."
She let out a short laugh, surprised at herself. "My boyfriend cheated on me. With my best friend. I walked in on them tonight."
"Tonight?" He finally looked over. "And you came here?"
"I didn't have a plan. I just didn't want to go home."
"Fair." He turned his glass slowly on the counter. "For what it's worth, they sound terrible."
"They were my whole life for two years." She shook her head. "Sorry. You don't need to hear this."
"I asked, didn't I?"
"You said 'rough night.' That's not really asking."
That got a real smile out of him, small and crooked. "Okay. Then I'm asking now. What happened?"
So she told him. The text, the dot on the map, the sneakers with the heart on them. He listened without interrupting, which was more than she could say for most people. When she finished, he let out a slow breath.
"Do you know who sent the text?"
"No idea."
"Someone wanted you to know," he said. "That's something, at least. Better than finding out later."
"Maybe." She finished her drink. "It doesn't feel better."
"It wouldn't. Not yet."
She studied him. Something about his jaw and the tired look around his eyes felt familiar, but the alcohol had made everything slow and soft, and she couldn't place it.
"What about you?" she asked. "Why are you sitting alone in a club at midnight?"
"I needed to get out for a while. Too many people expecting things from me."
"That sounds exhausting."
"You have no idea." He glanced at her. "What's your name?"
"Seo. Han Seo."
"Seo," he said, as if testing it. "Nice to meet you."
"And you?"
He hesitated just long enough for her to notice. Then he reached up and pushed back his hood.
Seo's breath caught. She knew that face. She had seen it on posters, on her lock screen, on the wall above her desk.
"You're..."
"SUGA," he said quietly. "And I think you should take a breath."