In a parallel universe, Woo Do Hwan is not a South Korean actor but a young man born in North Korea. Do Hwan's life has been a series of escape attempts, survival strategies, and small victories over hardship. Together with his mother, he fled North...
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He turned to his side and looked at the clock on the wall. It was barely six in the morning, too early for Elise to be up, but already, a nausea he'd become familiar with was stirring inside him. He placed a hand on his growing belly, feeling its slight roundness under his fingers. He hadn't been able to keep much down recently, and it showed in the slight paleness of his skin and the hollow look in his cheeks. Food had become a delicate balance — he needed it, but his body rejected it in fits and starts, especially in the mornings.
Morning light spilled weakly through the narrow window, painting the peeling wallpaper with a touch of faded warmth. He lay there in the silence, staring up at the ceiling, his hand resting unconsciously on the curve of his stomach. His eyes closed as he felt the familiar churning in his stomach intensify, and before he could brace himself, the urge to be sick took over.
Throwing off the blanket, he stumbled out of bed and rushed to the cramped bathroom down the hall, praying he would make it in time. The cold tiles underfoot shocked him awake as he dropped to his knees and heaved, his stomach wrenching and twisting until there was nothing left to give. He panted, leaning his forehead against the cool edge of the sink, and after a long moment, he raised his head to catch his reflection in the tarnished mirror.
The face that stared back at him was almost foreign now—sunken cheeks, dark circles clinging to his eyes like bruises, and yet... something new. Something he was still getting used to, something growing and changing inside him. He pulled up his worn T-shirt slightly, exposing his stomach. It was rounder now, noticeably so.
He heard a light tap at the door, and Elise's voice filtered through, calm and gentle as always.
"Do Hwan? Are you alright in there?" she asked, her French accent lacing each word with a delicate cadence. She'd been nothing but kind since he arrived, an unexpected ally in this city that felt as cold as the frost-bitten streets of northern China. She was his age, bright and fierce, with a softness that belied her own struggles. A surprising warmth had grown between them in the short time they'd shared this apartment.
"I... I'm okay," he managed, forcing his voice to sound steady, though the effort felt immense. "Just... mornings are hard." He placed a hand over his stomach without thinking, pressing gently against the growing curve.
Elise's eyes softened as she took in his pale face, his trembling frame. She glanced at his stomach but said nothing, only reaching out to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Come on," she said, nudging him toward the kitchen. "You need something light, maybe some tea. I'll make it."
As they walked, he kept one hand on his stomach, the other brushing lightly over his wallet in his pocket. A few crumpled euros were all he had left. He'd scraped together just enough money to buy the test a few weeks ago, the one that had confirmed his suspicion. And yet, the news hadn't brought him any closer to clarity. He still had no idea what to do, no roadmap for survival. Belgium's immigration policies were strict, and his current status put him in a precarious place. The cold truth was that he might be forced to leave again, his last hope of sanctuary slipping through his fingers.
Elise set a cup of tea in front of him, the steam curling upward in delicate tendrils. "Drink," she said softly, taking the seat across from him. "And you know, I was thinking... you could take on some of the odd jobs around here? My friend works at the flower market. She told me they're always looking for help, especially this season."
Do Hwan looked down at his hands. The idea of working in a flower market was something at least, he nodded gratefully. Anything that would keep him in Belgium until all of the documentation had been done and he had secured legal right and status to stay in the country, anything that would help him afford food, maybe even enough for things for the baby in time.
"That... would be wonderful," he said, his voice low and almost shy.
As the morning light streamed in through the kitchen window, Elise began talking about the flower market, describing the vibrant stalls and cheerful sellers, the streets that would soon be filled with blossoms and bright colors. Her words painted images in his mind, images of a life he could hardly believe was his own, filled with flowers, bustling streets, and the soft lull of a kind stranger's voice.
Do Hwan let himself relax. But as the warmth spread through him, he felt a renewed resolve. This child, this life inside him — he hadn't planned for it, didn't know how he'd manage, but he knew he'd do whatever it took. He'd survived North Korea, China, and the narrow escape to Belgium. He could survive this too. Somehow, he had to.
Later, he found himself in a familiar alleyway, carefully searching for bottles and cans. His thoughts were clouded, but his hands moved on autopilot. He'd earned just enough money over the past weeks to save up for essentials, but every day, he faced the same dilemma. Food, rent, or the chance to put something away for the future — each day was a choice, a delicate balance he feared he'd lose at any moment.
A few people passed by, eyeing him with mild curiosity or pity, but he ignored them, head down, focused on his task. Finally, with his bag full, he headed to the small shop where he could exchange the bottles for a little cash.
As he walked, he whispered to himself, almost as if to the life growing inside him, "We'll get through this. I promise. One way or another, I'll find a way to give us both a chance."
