#um. it does feel like kind of an abrupt steer away from what they were doing previously as a response to the controversy

[suituuup]

pieces - chapter fifteen

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca didn’t expect to see her again dancing in a strip club, out of all places.

rating: E (drug use and emotional abuse in early chapters)

ao3 link

*

Beca had never felt blood-running cold panic as she did when she saw the blood on Chloe’s hand. She tried to remain level-headed for the sake of taking Chloe safely to the hospital, white-knuckling the steering wheel as she drove, all the while talking with Dr. Harris through her car Bluetooth system to let her know what was going on. 

A nurse was waiting by the ER entrance with a wheelchair, and they rode up to the obstetric floor, the silence in the elevator deafening. They were led to an exam room and Chloe was asked to change into a gown, being given a pad and disposable underwear, which Beca helped her put on. 

The bleeding wasn’t as bad, but that didn’t mean it lessened her worry. If Chloe lost the baby… Beca wasn’t sure she would come back from it. 

“Hello Chloe,” Dr. Harris greeted as she came in a couple of minutes later, casting them a soft smile and a nod. She rolled the ultrasound machine closer. “Let’s take a look. Anymore cramping since we were on the phone?”

“No, just those two times,” Chloe answered, reaching for Beca’s hand as she lifted up her gown for the doctor to apply the gel. 

Beca watched Dr. Harris like a hawk as she focused on the screen, looking out for any hint in her features that could indicate something was wrong. After what felt like the longest minute of Beca’s life, the doctor finally spoke. 

“The ultrasound looks normal Chloe, no evidence of placental abruption, but I’d like to run some bloodwork to be sure,” she explained, glancing at Chloe as she lifted the wand and set it aside. “We’ll monitor you and the baby closely until we get the results, alright?” 

Placental abruption. Beca had read about that in the baby book, but she couldn’t remember how serious of a condition it was. She nonetheless puffed out a breath as the doctor didn’t look too alarmed, and squeezed Chloe’s hand. 

Chloe nodded. “Okay, thank you.” 

A nurse came by shortly after to strap a band around Chloe’s belly, which tracked the fetal heart rate. The steady beeping sound coming from the machine further allowed Beca to relax, and she remained by Chloe’s side as the nurse collected a few samples of her blood to be sent out to the lab. 

As the nurse departed, Beca let go of Chloe’s hand to tuck a strand of red hair behind her ear. “Do you want anything to drink or eat?” 

Chloe shook her head. “No. I’m okay.” Her lips curved into a small smile. “Thanks, though. You should sit down, I think we’re going to be here for a little while.” 

Nodding, Beca glanced behind her and grabbed a stool tucked in the corner, reaching for Chloe’s hand as she sat down. “Should I call your parents?” 

“No, not yet. There’s no point in worrying them before we know more.” 

“You’re right,” Beca murmured, nodding once more. 

Silence descended upon them, save for the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. Beca rubbed Chloe’s knuckles back and forth, hoping the movement was somewhat soothing. 

Dr. Harris came by ten minutes later and checked the numbers. “I’m still waiting on the lab results, but the heart rate’s good. I’ll come back to check on you in half-an-hour.” 

“Thanks, doc,” Beca said before she walked out, casting her a grateful nod. She turned back to Chloe. “I’m going to get myself something to drink, okay? Sure you don’t want anything?” 

“Maybe some sparkling water?” 

Beca smiled. “You got it.” 

The vending machine was just down the hall, and Beca got herself a coke and Chloe’s water, heading back to the room a mere minute after she’d left. 

“One sparkling water,” she said, setting it on the bedside table. 

“Thank y--” The rest of Chloe’s sentence was cut off by a sharp cry as she doubled over, and Beca’s heart lurched to her throat when the beeping on the monitor increased. 

She rushed to the open door, nearly colliding with a nurse coming in. “We need some help, the heartbeat, it--”

“I’m paging Dr. Harris,” the nurse interrupted as she read the monitor, then checked under the blanket, revealing a large pool of blood. 

Beca paled, her eyes zeroing on the amount seeping into the sheet while Chloe curled up in pain. 

“What’s going on?” Dr. Harris asked as she strode in. 

“Gush of blood, heart rate’s dropping,” the nurse told her urgently as she kept her eyes on the monitor. “Now in the 60’s.” 

“We’re going to the OR,” Dr. Harris announced as she clicked the bed railing into place. “Chloe, it looks like your placenta has abrupted and your baby isn’t getting enough oxygen. I need to perform an emergency c-section.” 

More nurses rushed in, and Beca didn’t know where to stand as they bustled around her. She jumped out of the way when they pushed the gurney towards the door. 

“Bec,” Chloe cried, fear flashing in her gaze as she was rolled away. Beca snapped out of her daze and grabbed her hand, walking alongside the gurney. 

As much as she wanted to, Beca couldn’t tell her everything was going to be okay, instead of saying the only thing she was sure of. “I’m here, Chlo.” 

They reached the flapping doors which read OR in big letters, and one of the nurses stopped Beca from going further. “You need to get suited up first, honey. Follow me.” 

Beca swallowed and nodded, her shaky legs somehow managing to carry her to a room on the right. “Shit, I forgot-- she can’t have any morphine.” 

Chloe had told her that a few weeks ago when they talked about possible complications during labor. 

“The doctor probably knows, but I’ll go tell her right away.” 

Before the nurse left, she gave Beca a pair of scrubs, a hair cap, mask, and booties to put over her shoes. Beca slipped everything on, and then, she waited. 

She paced up and down the room, her hands wringing together as she tried to focus on her breathing and not the many terrifying scenarios popping up inside her brain. The nurse finally came to get her after what felt like an hour when it was probably just ten minutes and led her to the OR through a side door. 

Chloe laid on a different bed in the center of the room, a sheet blocking her view from the chest down. An oxygen mask had been placed over her mouth and nose, and she turned her head when Beca approached, tears swimming in her eyes. 

Various medical staff buzzed around the crowded room, cleaning, shaving, sterilizing, but Beca chose to focus on Chloe because that was her only job here. Being there for her, during what was probably the scariest experience of her life so far. She sat on the stool provided and took her hand, pressing a lingering kiss to the back of it. 

“I’m shaking all over,” Chloe’s voice wavered as she spoke. 

“That’s normal, sweetie,” a nurse let her know as she stopped by her. She patted Chloe’s shoulder, the crinkling at the corners of her kind eyes indicating she was smiling beneath her mask. “It’s just the anesthesia working.” 

It was another five minutes or so before the procedure started. Beca remained wholly focused on Chloe, one hand clasped around hers while the other rhythmically stroked her hair, and she spent the next ten minutes murmuring sweet nothings to her while the doctor and nurses worked to get Bean out. 

“Here we go.” Dr. Harris’ voice caught Beca’s attention, and she pushed to her feet to see her take the baby out and hand her to another doctor standing nearby. “Baby’s out, Chloe.” 

“Is she okay?? Why isn’t she crying?” Chloe stammered, twisting her head to look at Beca. “Bec, tell me what’s going on,” she pleaded, tears seeping out of her eyes and running down her temples. 

Truth was, Beca wasn’t sure what was going on. A team of three people was working around the incubator, and the man was talking about a tube. She watched as he inserted a tube down Bean’s throat, attaching a bag to it. It was a mere ten seconds before they rolled the incubator away and out of the room.

That same nurse popped in on Chloe’s other side. “Your baby isn’t breathing on her own, so they had to intubate, Chloe. She’s being taken to the NICU.” 

A sob wrenched itself from Chloe’s throat, and Beca’s heart fell through her stomach as she once again felt absolutely powerless and unable to find the right words. 

Chloe’s head rolled back towards her. “Go with her, please,” she croaked out. 

Beca hesitated, as she didn’t want Chloe to be on her own either. 

“I don’t want her to be alone,” Chloe added, squeezing her hand. “Please.” 

“Okay,” Beca agreed with a nod. She bent down and pressed a kiss to Chloe’s forehead despite the mask on her face. “I’ll be back soon.” 

She followed the nurse out of the room, her legs feeling even weaker than before. “31 weeks is good, right?” She blurted out as they walked down the hall, needing some sort of reassurance before she lost it altogether. “The odds of surviving… they’re high at this stage, right?” 

“95%, yes. They’re running tests as we speak to assess her health and decide what treatment she might need if she does.” 

Beca nodded, sucking in a deep breath. They reached the NICU waiting area shortly after. “It might be a while before a nurse comes to get you, you can dispose of your scrubs in the bin over there and have a seat.” 

“Okay. Thank you.” 

Beca took off her scrubs, cap, and mask, then took a seat, her knee bouncing up and down as she waited. It was probably another hour before someone came to get her, just as Beca was getting stir-crazy. 

“Are you baby Beale’s other mom?” The middle-aged woman clad in dark purple scrubs asked. 

“Um, no, the guardian,” she stated awkwardly as she stood, clearing her throat. “The mom’s next of kin.”

The doctor nodded. “I’m Dr. Miller, the attending physician. The baby is stable as we speak. Her brain scan came back clear and her heart is strong and steady, showing no defect. She however can’t breathe on her own because her lungs haven’t developed enough, and her birth weight is very low. This is our main concern as of now. She’s being fed with a tube, and how well she fares over the next week will depend on her ability to gain weight.”  

Beca’s throat constricted and she swallowed thickly as she nodded her head, processing the information. Bean wasn’t out of the woods, and the next week would be crucial.

“Am I allowed to see her?” 

“Of course.” The doctor turned and hit a button to open the doors, and they stepped inside an airlock with a large sink. “You have bacterial soap here, wash your hands and forearms for thirty seconds, then rinse and dry with those clean towels over there. A nurse will come to get you in a minute.”

“Thanks.” 

Once the doctor had left, Beca did as instructed, meticulously washing her hands, under her nails and up to her elbows, then rinsed the soap off and dried her skin with the towels provided. 

She then followed the nurse inside the room to the right incubator, her heart squeezing at the sight of the tiny baby hooked to a handful of wires and a ventilator. Sensors were taped to her chest, and she had a tiny tube lodged in one nostril. A small hat sat over her head, and she only wore a diaper. 

“Am I allowed to hold her hand?” Beca asked as she sat down on the chair next to the incubator. 

“Of course. You can talk to her, too,” the nurse said with a soft smile. “As Mommy won’t be able to get out of bed for the next 24 hours, I’m sure she’d appreciate a few photos and videos if you want to take some. I’m around if you have any questions.” 

“Thank you,” Beca murmured, watching the other woman walk away before focusing on Bean. She watched her chest steadily rise up and down for a minute, before slowly reaching up to slide her hand through the hole on the side of the incubator. She gently held Bean’s tiny hand, stroking the back of it with the pad of her thumb. 

“Hi, Bean. I’m your auntie Beca,” her voice shook as emotions gripped her throat. “I need you to be alright, okay? Will you do that for me? If you’re strong like your Mama, I know you’ve got what it takes.” 

She didn’t know how long she would get to stay, so Beca took a bunch of photos and videos with her phone to show Chloe. She hung out with Bean for another hour, telling her all about her Mama as she held her hand.

“I need to go check on your Mama, but I’ll be back soon Bean, okay? Hang in there,” Beca said softly, retracting her hand and gazing at the newborn for another few beats before pushing to her feet. 

A nurse led her to Chloe’s recovery room when she asked for her at the desk, and Beca rounded the corner to find Chloe sitting in bed. 

Beca walked over and gently sat down on the edge of the bed. “Did the doctor come to talk to you?” 

“Yeah, she said the bloodwork came back normal, and the main concern was feeding.” She sniffled. “Were you allowed to see her?” 

Beca fished her phone out of the front pocket of her hoodie, selecting the video she had of Bean. “Here.” 

She couldn’t imagine how difficult it must feel for Chloe not to be able to meet her daughter just yet, and she held Chloe’s free hand as she saw Bean for the first time, through a phone screen. 

“She’s so small,” Chloe whispered, tears pooling in her eyes as she ran her finger over her daughter’s face. “I wish I could see her.” 

“Tomorrow. I’ll keep her company until then,” Beca murmured, squeezing her hand. “Are you in pain?” 

Chloe wiped a tear falling down her cheek away and shrugged. “A bit sore.” 

Beca tilted her head to the side, having the feeling Chloe was downsizing her pain for her sake. “Did they give you anything for it?” 

“They offered, but I said no,” Chloe said. “I don’t want to touch any of that stuff again.” She cleared her throat, continuing before Beca could argue. “The um, the doctor said giving Bean some of my breast milk would help. Will you get my breast pump from your place?” 

“Yeah, of course. I’ll go right now. I’ll also grab you a couple of change of clothes and your toiletries. Anything else you might need?” 

“My phone charger and my robe, please.” 

Beca smiled. “You got it. I’ll be back soon.” She stood and brushed a kiss above Chloe’s eyebrow, closing her eyes as Chloe leaned into the touch. “Get some rest, Chlo.” 

It was pushing six am by the time Beca made it home. Ignoring the need for sleep after an all-nighter, she took a quick shower, then packed a bag with Chloe’s things. The hospital wasn’t far, so she figured she could always come back to get more stuff in case she forgot anything. Right now, all she wanted was to be back by Chloe and Bean’s side. 

Even if she knew Chloe might not eat much, she stopped by her favorite bagel place on her way back to the hospital, along with a cup of coffee after googling whether it was safe to have some while breastfeeding. She got herself one as well, with a double shot of espresso that would hopefully get her through the morning. 

Chloe was asleep when Beca reached her room, and Beca didn’t want to disturb her. She set the bagel and coffee on the bedside tray, along with a note. 

Went to check on Bean. Be back in a bit with news and more photos. 

Beca xx

Once at the NICU, she followed the same protocol of hand-washing and sat down next to Bean’s incubator, where she was bound to spend the next few weeks. 

“Hey Bean,” she whispered, smiling as the newborn legs moved. She slipped her hand through the hole, stroking Bean’s tiny fingers. “Where was I? I think I was just about to tell you the time where your crazy mom burst into my shower…”

[welcome-to-unseasoned]

The COO of Unseasoned

"There's someone at the gate!"

"I'm busy trying to keep all this water from drowning us! Let em in and I'll be out there soon!"

It was hours since he'd felt anything close to calm. Why did everything seem to fall apart at the same time.

"Get it over all at once Mike. Not a bad thing right? It was just a bad storm. After this we'll be even better offer it" he thought to himself, willing himself to believe it.

Thankfully his guest was content to wait and it was a full half hour before he was able to come to the huge front room near the entrance to meet with her. The elderly woman was sitting on one of the chairs near the fire with a toddler aged mutant rabbit on the floor in front of her. Just from her posture he could tell she was affluent, her dark grey hair was perfectly styled with ornate pins even though to get to Unseasoned anyone would have to walk or ride for hours. Her practical floral dress was neatly pressed and didn't at all look like they had just been on a long journey save for a layer of mud on the trim near her feet. The stark contrast between her and himself, covered in mud and soaking wet from head to toes made him laugh out loud, causing her to notice him.

"Hi, sorry for the wait."

"It looks like you have your hands full son. I can be brief."

"Nah it’s fine. The storm just dumped a little too much water and we weren't ready for it. Under control now."

She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Mostly under control." Mikey couldn't help a small grin. The woman smiled at him and he felt a twinge of embarrassment. 

"I haven't had much to do for myself over the last few years and I've taken to assisting those in need through my church. I found this young man curled up in an alley with a fever, couldn't just leave him there. I heard about this place over the years and once he was healthy I decided to bring him and see what the fuss was about. Seemed like it was a worthy cause. A good of a place as any to try and find him a home."

"Well you've come to the right place!"

"Now that I'm here however I feel like perhaps I was hasty in that assumption."

"You. . .what?"

"On the way in I glanced in the kitchen. I don't know what kind of staff you have here but it was shameful spectacle."

"I . . .there aren't many of us here ma'am. And we're already up to nearly twenty kids. A lot falls by the wayside I’m afraid."

"Posh. If you are having difficulty with the children you need more help."

"The kids are fine. They've been through hell and this is their first bit of a normal life in a long time so they're better than they were and that's my biggest concern.  Believe me though if anyone wanted to come help I'd be more than happy to let them. There’s more work than able hands petty much 24 hours a day."

"Surely it shouldn't be hard to find help. Plenty of people would take room and board for a job."

"Harder than you think when you're sitting in the middle of a bunch of fighting territories with a very delicate truce holding the place safe and together. So, did you just want to hang around to criticize me or . . .?"

The woman stood. "Forgive me, where are my manners. You can call me Nana. This here is Ro. And you are?"

"Michelangelo. Pleased to meet you. I think." He chuckled and extended his hand and she took it after a few moments of careful consideration. He was both irritated and tickled by her.

"I saw a girl hiding back there" she pointed behind one of the fireplaces. Her dress had a six inch tear up the side."

Mikey glanced over and caught sight of Emma's dark hair. "Yeah um, she's a bit of a wild one that gets tears like that almost weekly and I'm usually too busy keeping food on the table for mending. Maybe in winter when we have more time inside."

"That's months away, my stars!"

Mikey shrugged and gave her a wide grin. "Healthy and happy first."

"Indeed. You have quite a beautiful place here."

"Built it myself. With help." The abrupt change of subject threw him a bit but he went with her compliment. She both seemed to be judging him and Unseasoned as well as in a bit of awe of what he'd accomplished. Or it might have been his own awe he was projecting on to her critical eye. He knelt down and offered his hand to Ro, who hesitated but took it.  "Hi. My name is Mikey."

Nana watched him, chin held high and expression unreadable. "How many adults are here?"

After making Ro giggle with a well placed tickle he looked up at her. "Counting me, there are four. Everyone pitches in, even the kids. Eventually I’d like to bring some schooling and more. But for now, well, we just keep everyone fed and safe."

"May I see the rest of the facilities?"

"You want a. . . tour? Sure. Sure of course." He had no idea why she would want to see all of Unseasoned, but he loved showing people the place.  She picked up Ro and followed him as he pointed out rooms and bathrooms, and as they walked through the hallways she would pause, shake her head and continue. "I really hope I'm not getting graded. You're making me awfully nervous. You know this was not a picnic to make happen right?"

Nana didn't laugh. "Tell me about yourself and this place" she insisted instead.

Mikey gave her a brief history of what he'd accomplished with little personal detail other than he had been lost and needed a cause he believed in to find himself. By the end of the tour she had only asked a few questions.

"You're welcome to stay as long as you like. I can show you to a room.  I can take Ro over to the kids his age so he can get to know them in the meantime. We'd be happy to have him here with us, even if it's a bit of a mess and we don't . . ."

"Yes please. I would like to stay and make sure Ro acclimates well."

"I um, alright."

"And then I believe I will return home to Roten and gather my things."

"Ok?"

"And then I shall be moving here. My family has all moved to the larger cities or are otherwise occupied and I prefer to be useful to as many as possible. I feel perfectly pointless where I am now and I believe you are in desperate need of household management here."

"I . . ." Mikey was dumbfounded. He had no idea what to think or how to react.

"No need to fuss over it my boy, you clearly need help here."

“I can’t deny that. Living out here is rough though ma’am. We don’t have many luxuries.”

“All the more reason you need someone to make them out of what you have young man. Someone needs to makes sure these children, and the adults, get washed after all.” she finally smiled at Mikey, her eyes twinkling with mirth. He looked down at himself, having forgotten just how filthy he and the ill fitting clothing he was wearing were.

“Yeah. Someone does need to make sure that happens. I have to warn you I’m much harder to be forced in to the bath than the kids.”

“Not any more Michelangelo. . .”

“Mikey.”

“Not any more Mikey. I believe I was called he not just for Ro but for you and this place.If you will allow it I would very much like to join your cause and your home.”

He was generally a good judge of character. Rarely did trusting his gut steer him wrong and Nana seemed to be no exception. He had to admit having someone like her to make sure the things that needed to get done were getting done would greatly help them. Not to mention she would be extra hands to watch younger kids, cook, mend and entertain. 

“If you would like credentials I would be happy to provide references...”

“No, that won’t be necessary Nana. I think you’ll fit right in.  We can lend you a horse to get back quicker if you’d like, as long as you promise to return her.”

“Imagine an old lady like me stealing a horse from a fellow like you! Wouldn’t that be talk of the town!” She let out a boisterous laugh that echoed through the sparse room. “Goodness you are quite the character aren’t you?”

“Oh, you have no idea. If you still want to stay after a few days around me I’ll consider you my new best friend.”

“I’ve needed a new best friend for ages. I expect this arrangement will fulfill me and benefit you but if I get some friends out of it all the better. You are a delightful young man an I am a delightful old lady so I doubt there is too much trouble I could get in to here. ”

Mikey grinned. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I get in to trouble on a regular basis.”

“Hmm” she hummed. “Yes I think this is where I need to be. I do enjoy a bit of trouble now and then.”

Relieved she wasn’t nearly as stiff as she first appeared Mikey held out his hand. “And I think I enjoy you. Welcome to Unseasoned.”

[reifromrfa]

On the Line - Chapter 11

Prompt: Alternate Universe

1  |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5  |  6  |  7  |  8  |  9  |  10  |  x  |  Coming Soon!

On the Line - relinks to fanfiction.net

Whew finally got to work on On the Line again :) I missed this story ;A;

Chapter 11

MC clasps her hands tightly in her lap, not daring to say a word. She glances at her fiancé —the word still makes her shudder —from the corner of her eye and sees the stony expression on his face, his features tense. The way he’s gripping the steering wheel makes her feel like he’s imagining it's her neck he’s holding under his fingers. 

She knows what’s going to happen next. She’s terrified of what he’s going to do this time.

But MC is surprised to find that she doesn’t regret dancing with Jumin Han.

She feels the heat in her cheeks the moment she pictures her masked prince. The way his arms held her —firm but gentle at the same time. The way he says her name —like he knows how to pull at her heartstrings with just his voice. And the way he looked at her… 

MC couldn’t put a finger to it, but there was something in the way the young corporate heir looked at her that makes her feel like…like she’s supposed to remember something. 

The car jerks into an abrupt stop in front of the apartment that Chul Soo bought for her and MC closes her eyes, dreading what’s going to happen next.

“Who told you you could dance with him?” 

“Chul Soo, it didn’t mean anyt—” 

MC flinches when Chul Soo slams his fist down on the dashboard, turning his coal, black eyes on her. 

“You belong to me.” Chul Soo snarls, grabbing her wrist and pulling her close. MC gasps but doesn’t resist. The last time she did, he nearly broke her wrist. 

MC glares at him, hatred behind her eyes. Chul Soo could see the defiance beneath her gaze, that fire inside of her begging to be released. 

He wanted nothing more than to control that flame, make it bend to his will.

“We’re not married yet, Chul Soo.” MC replies, keeping her other fist clenched.

Chul Soo merely chuckles. “Yeah, but I already paid off your aunt, didn’t I?” He releases her wrist, only to reach up and stroke her cheek with his thumb. MC tenses, repulsed by his touch. “Remember how she practically pushed you out of that tiny little apartment, hm? Remember how hard your life was before you met me?”

MC pulls away from his touch, swallowing the lump that forms in her throat. She doesn’t need to be reminded of her horrible aunt or her past. But being with Chul Soo isn’t exactly an upgrade from her previous situation. Sure, MC has her own apartment now. Her own car, beautiful and expensive clothes and she can eat three meals a day.

But at what cost?

Chul Soo smirks at her. “Yeah, remember those the next time Jumin Han even looks at you.”

MC shakes her head and opens her door, climbing out of the car. She slams the door shut and immediately starts walking towards the apartment, not bothering to turn around and watch as Chul Soo drives away.

As she waits for the elevator, MC lets out a sigh of relief, grateful that Chul Soo has business to take care of. She bites her lip, telling herself not to cry, that everything will be okay. But she has the scars and bruises to prove that everything will not be okay —things might even get worst once she’s living under the same roof as that monster.

Hate bubbles in her chest as she remembers her aunt but she immediately dismisses it. She can never hate family, no matter what they’ve done to her in the past.

The elevator arrives and she steps inside, punching in her floor and wiping a stray tear from her cheek. When the doors close, she unclenches her fist and smoothens out the elegant piece of paper she had crushed.

Even the paper screams luxury. The gold-stamped letters reflect against the lights of the elevator and MC holds the card closer to her. Her heart pounds hard against her chest as she skims over the name written on the card.

The card he had slipped into her hands while they were dancing.

The card she kept from Chul Soo the entire ride home.

Who are you, Jumin Han?

Jumin Han has entered the chatroom.

Zen: I really hope I get this part.

707: Cat mom has entered the chatroom!

Jumin Han: Luciel, you’re here.

Zen: Wow he just ignored what you said

707: *glasses breaking emoji*

707: Has our Mr. Trustfundkid been abducted by aliens??

707: Perhaps this is his clone?!

707: PERHAPS THIS IS ACTUALLY ELLY~?

Zen: Or maybe he’s had too much to drink at that fancy party of his.

Jumin Han: I can hold my own liquor, Zen.

Jumin Han: But I have something more important to say to Luciel.

Zen: Oh sure, don’t mind me.

Jumin Han: If that’s what you wish.

Jumin Han: I would gladly ignore you.

Zen: *speechless emoji*

Zen: I was being SARCASTIC.

707: Lololol

Jumin Han: Luciel, how much would it cost to hire you?

Zen: ?!

707: ?!

707: You want to hire me?

707: THE DEFENDER OF JUSTICE?

707: Is this for a girl, perhaps~?

Zen: Lol no way that jerk will get a girlfriend before me.

Jumin Han: It’s complicated.

Jumin Han: …but yes, it may involve a lady.

Zen: *shocked emoji*

Zen: *shocked emoji*

Zen: *shocked emoji*

707: *love emoji*

Zen: YOU’RE KIDDING, RIGHT?

707: I accept cash payments or maybe a new baby~

Jumin Han: Baby?

707: Yes.

707: A car

707: That lovely new sports car in the display window of that car store across your building

Jumin Han: Is that all?

Jumin Han: Consider it done.

Zen: *speechless annoyed emoji*

Jumin smirks at the actor’s annoyed response. As he was about to type in the details, his phone rings and an unknown number pops up on the screen. He immediately sits up in his sofa, surprising Elizabeth the 3rd with his quick movements. The cat purrs and stretches before settling back into the couch and going back to sleep.

Jumin hurriedly scrolls past Zen’s rant about him and types with shaky fingers.

Jumin Han: I have a call. Luciel, I will contact you.

Jumin tries to calm himself but he can feel the harsh beating of his heart. In nervousness? In anticipation? Both?

He slides the button to accept the call and puts the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” he says in his usual tone. Inside, his heart is drumming against his chest in anticipation; he wants nothing more than to hear her sweet voice once again.

“Hello?”

A smile spreads across his face as her voice echoes in his mind. A calm feeling settles over him and he relaxes back into the couch, happy. He’s grateful she didn’t throw away the card he had slipped into her hand and even more grateful Chul Soo didn’t find it.

“MC. Are you alright?”

“…yes. Thank you for asking.”

She pauses and Jumin scrambles for something to say to her. He doesn’t want to scare her off by telling her he is madly in-love with her, but he doesn’t want to pretend she doesn’t matter to him as well.

Because she does.

She means everything to him.

“What a weird question to ask.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Why would you think I wasn’t okay?”

He smiles to himself. Her perceptiveness is just as he remembered. But then the image of the bruise on her neck flashes in his mind and removes the smile from his face. He can’t risk scaring her off by telling her he saw the bruises; Jumin reminds himself yet again that this MC doesn’t know him yet, doesn’t remember their past like he does. He has to take things slow.

“Ah, your cheeks were a bit red earlier this evening. I hope you didn’t catch a cold this evening.”

MC blushes on the other line. Oh my God. This man didn’t miss anything, did he?

“Ah, no no, I’m alright. Just had a little too much to drink perhaps.”

Okay, it was a teeny, tiny lie. But MC isn’t about to tell him she’s attracted to him! Especially since he’s Chul Soo’s new business partner.

Jumin resists the urge to chuckle. He had watched her all evening and she never had a drink.

“I hope you feel better now. Is there anything I can help you with? Why did you call?”

MC fidgets with the edge of her oversized shirt. Why did she call him? The real reason —she wanted to hear his voice again. His deep baritone calmed her and she wants to understand why.

She isn’t going to say that to one of the most powerful men in Korea though.

“Um. I just wanted to thank you for inviting me to the party tonight.”

I wanted to propose to you tonight, Jumin wishes he could tell her.

“Of course. It was my pleasure, MC.”

“I also wanted to ask...Why did you give me your card? I was surprised when you slipped it into my hand.”

“So you can call me if you ever need anything.” Jumin answers without hesitation.

MC can feel the heat radiating from her cheeks.

This man…what the hell is he making her feel? She’s never felt this way about anyone before. No man can make her blush or grin like an idiot like this man is doing right now.

“I...Why not give me your assistant’s number though? I mean, I really appreciate it, Mr. H—”

“Please, call me Jumin. Mr. Han is my father.”

MC giggles and Jumin melts. He would give her anything just to hear her laugh.

“Jumin. Sorry. This feels so unnatural. You’re one of Korea’s most powerful businessmen and…this is unnatural.”

“There’s nothing unnatural about this at all. I am also just a man, MC. I hope you would change your view of me someday…There is more to me than wealth and power. But please, don’t ever hesitate to call me should you need anything. I’m always here for you, MC.”

Tears blur her vision as she clutches the phone in her hands. Jumin Han might be the first person to ever say that to her. Scratch that —he is the man to ever say that to her. Now she feels bad that she knows nothing about him except his fortune and business. Apparently, he is a kind and caring man too and she wishes she could have met him before getting engaged to someone else.

Not that she has any chance with him in the first place.

“But why? Why do you care so much about a stranger you just met tonight?”

Because you’re no stranger, MC.

Out loud, he says, “Perhaps it’s because I don’t want us to be strangers to each other any longer.”

“…Excuse me?”

“It is indeed odd to care so much for someone I barely even know. I would like to change that and get to know you better. Is that alright?”

MC can feel the warmth spreading across her cheeks again and wonders if it’s possible to combust just from hearing someone’s voice over the phone.

This is wrong, MC.

If Chul Soo finds out she’s been talking to Jumin Han, she’s dead. 

But…

She can’t resist him. It’s like there’s a force that’s making her gravitate towards him, making her dream of a better ending to her story —maybe a happy ending with him. Jumin rekindled the one emotion MC thought she had lost a long time ago:

Hope.

She grins and hugs her pillow to her chest.

“Well…since I can’t sleep, I’ll humor you.”

Jumin lets out a soft chuckle, smiling. It feels like yesterday when he said the exact same thing to the MC from 1950.

“Why don’t you try counting sheep?”

MC laughs.

“You’re so weird, Jumin. I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

“Like I said, there’s more to me than my wealth and my business.”

“Do tell. I’m very intrigued.”

He tells her about Elizabeth the 3rd and the RFA. About his best friend who’s a famous photographer and his father, whom, despite being a womanizer, he loves dearly. He tells her about his fascination with the dark arts and his hobby of reading.

MC giggles and it’s music to his ears.

“So let me get this straight: this Zen guy doesn’t like you because you’re rich?”

“It would seem so.”

“He doesn’t seem like a very nice person.”

Hallelujah. His smile grows bigger as does his love and respect for her.

“I mean, it’s not like we can choose our families, right?”

“I agree with you completely, MC. However, I’m being quite rude. I’ve been talking about myself for a while now and I would like it if you told me a little about yourself. Do you have a family? What are they like?”

The line goes quiet for a moment and Jumin has to check the screen to see if the call has been cut.

“MC?”

“I don’t think you’d like my story.”

“Unless you’re Zen’s sister, I would very much like to hear about your story.”

MC laughs.

“No, I'm not his sister. That would’ve been nice though. It means I could’ve met you earlier.”

Jumin resists the urge to go to her then and there.

But then MC sighs and he hears her shifting on whatever she’s sitting on.

“Well, for starters, I’m not rich. In fact, I’m the exact opposite.

My parents died when I was little and my aunt had no choice but to take me in. She was struggling as well and had her own children, so she hated me from the moment she saw me in the hospital.”

Why am I telling him this?

MC wonders, biting her lower lip. She barely knew the guy. But there’s just something about Jumin Han that made her feel at peace, made her feel like she could trust him.

She takes a deep breath and continues.

“Her first husband left her for another woman, a wealthier woman. Her second husband was a drunk and an addict so she left him. Her current husband is part of —”

Jumin can feel her hesitating and makes a mental note to do a background check on MC’s family.

“—part of Chul Soo’s business. He earns money and keeps my aunt and cousins alive, but he doesn’t earn enough. My aunt used to take the salary I got from work, but with the amount of debt her second husband left her with and her children’s university fees, nothing was ever enough.

She blamed me for her situation though. Said she never should have taken me in. I was the bane of her existence until Chul Soo and I met.”

Jumin has a feeling he knows what happened after that. If history was repeating itself, then the aunt must have arranged her marriage with Chul Soo.

“Long story short, she sold me off to Chul Soo for a huge sum. And now here I am. The bargaining chip for my family’s brighter future. My aunt didn’t think I was so useless after that.”

MC lets out a sad laugh. “I’m sorry, that’s terribly depressing, isn’t it?”

“I’m so sorry.” Jumin says softly. He didn’t miss the sadness in her voice —the same sadness from all those years ago.

Jumin closes his eyes. How could he not have known? How could he not have searched for her? She has been right here all this time. He could have saved her from ever meeting Chul Soo. Saved her from her terrible fate.

“Oh don’t be. We can’t choose our families, right? It’s okay. I’ve accepted my fate.”

If MC is trying to reassure him, she’s doing a terrible job of it. He could hear the tremble in her voice, the uncertainty behind her words. She doesn’t want this and the two of them knew it.

“You don’t have to pretend with me, MC.” Jumin says softly.

For a moment, there’s silence. And then he hears her quiet sobs over the line and he gets to his feet.

“MC —may I go to you?”

“W-what?”

“Please. I can’t stand the thought of knowing I made you cry without being there to comfort you. If you would allow it, let me be there for you.”

“But, Jumin…Chul Soo—”

“I can take care of him.”

“No, Jumin —”

“Please, MC. Please let me see you.”

“…okay.”  

Sorry for the cliffie! Haha I’ll try to update soon!

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