14 Days | PJM

thirty-three

When you prepare for work the next day, Jimin finally sends you a text to let you know he's doing well. You respond with gratitude and encourage him to work hard. You already miss him terribly but you're happy knowing he's living his dream.

The next few days consist of mostly the same, short conversations. It's hard to work around your schedules, and you regretfully fall asleep while on most FaceTime calls when he rings you at night. Missing him is so exhausting. What's worse is missing his physical connection and feeling empty all the time.

Weeks later, you're fatigued from the anticipation of receiving his texts and calls at weird hours. It's honestly hard to keep in contact regularly, but you both make the effort, and that's all that matters.

With your interrupted sleep schedule and newfound jitteriness, you find yourself in a bad mood and not feeling very well. Your nipples are even sore and your appetite has seemingly vanished.

One day, while getting your hair and makeup done, a staff member brings in a cart full of sandwiches and coffees for everyone to enjoy. At first, the thoughtful gesture boosts your mood, but then the smell hits your nostrils at full force and ensues unwelcome waves of nausea.

You apologize to your hairdresser and makeup artist and sprint to the restroom. You make it just in time to vomit in the toilet. It's a pity your styled hair has gotten some vomit on it.

As you release your stomach's contents into the bowl, your manager scurries in and kneels beside you.

"Y/N, what's wrong with you?"

You spit into the bowl and wipe your mouth on the sleeve of your Gucci shirt. "I don't know."

Your manager frowns and taps her forehead. "Y/N, that shirt is for the photoshoot and now it's ruined."

You shrug and gag, positioning yourself over the bowl in preparation for more unpleasant release. Your manager tells you to wait a moment, as if you have a choice to leave in this situation, and she vacates the restroom briefly.

In a few minutes, she returns with a small plastic shopping bag in hand. She extends it towards you and gestures for you to take it. You receive the bag and open it, searching for what's inside. Your eyes widen and you drop the bag on the floor.

"Why would I need to take a pregnancy test?" you shriek.

"You're having sex with Jimin, aren't you?" she snaps.

"He's been gone for over a month," you explain. "And I haven't had sex with anyone else."

She shakes her head and whines. "Then you must be a month pregnant by now." She pulls her hair and walks in a circle, asking God for mercy.

You stare at the floor and watch her feet in your peripheral as they dance in a circle. One month pregnant? But you've been on birth control.

"Take the test so we can confirm," your manager finally instructs after concluding her tantrum.

You nod and obediently pull up your skirt. You pee on the stick and set it down to wipe yourself, but your manager quickly grabs the stick to see the results before you get the chance.

Her jaw drops and she lets the stick fall to the floor. She walks out of the restroom without a word, and you scramble to collect the stick.

Examining the little lines of the results window, you see for yourself...

You're pregnant. With Jimin's baby.