Modern Family

Chapter Twelve : Pressing Play

Chapter Twelve : Pressing Play

The meeting in my home office felt like it had been going on forever. It was one of those marathon sessions where everyone talks at once, and no one really listens.

I hated these days—when everything felt forced, like I was just checking boxes instead of actually being a part of something meaningful. But I had to be there. This album of mine wasn't going to promote itself.

"Okay, Tookie, we need to talk about the visuals," my manager, Marcus, said, slamming down a stack of papers in front of me.

He had a way of making everything sound urgent, like the fate of the world depended on my next decision. "The artwork, the video concepts, the marketing campaign—it's all behind schedule. You need to be more involved if we're going to make this a success."

I sighed, feeling the weight of his words settle heavily on my chest. My body ached. It wasn't just the physical toll pregnancy was taking on me—though that was a constant reminder every time I moved.

No, this was something else. The constant pressure to be perfect, to deliver an album that would meet the expectations of my fans, my label, my team—it was starting to suffocate me.

"I'm doing the best I can," I said, my voice quieter than I meant it to be. "I have a lot going on right now, Marcus. You know about the triplets—"

He cut me off before I could finish. "Yes, yes, I get it. You're pregnant. But this is your career, Tookie. You can't just coast through this because you're tired or overwhelmed. You're not the only artist on this label. We need you to step up."

I flinched. "I am stepping up," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady, though I could feel the edges of frustration creeping in. "But I can't do it all at once."

Marcus stared at me, his eyes cold. "You have to. People are counting on you. You're making excuses, and that's not good enough."

I was about to say something—something that might have made the situation even worse—but before I could, a sharp pain sliced through my stomach. I gasped, clutching my abdomen as a wave of nausea hit me hard. It wasn't the usual discomfort of pregnancy; this felt different.

"Are you okay?" Marcus asked, though his tone still carried that impatient edge, as if he thought I was being overly dramatic.

"I... I don't know," I whispered, my breath shallow as I tried to breathe through the pain.

I could feel my body tensing, the pressure building. It was almost like everything inside me was tightening. The pain radiated down my sides, and for a second, I thought I might faint.

"Call Jonathan, Trinity. Call them," I barely managed to say, my voice shaky.

Marcus looked at me like I was crazy. "What's going on? Should I—"

"No," I gasped, cutting him off, "just call them."

The pain was growing worse by the second, and my head started to spin. I knew I had to get to a hospital, but I couldn't move. I needed Jonathan and Trinity. I needed them to get to me, fast.

As Marcus fumbled with his phone, I closed my eyes and tried to focus on my breathing. What if something was wrong? I couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to my babies, not after everything we had been through.

The door to the room burst open just as Marcus was dialing Jonathan's number. It was Jonathan, his face pale with panic, his eyes wide with concern.

"Tookie!" he cried, rushing toward me. He knelt beside me, taking my hand in his. "What happened? What's going on?"

I wanted to reassure him, tell him that I was fine, that this was just a little scare. But I couldn't. I felt too weak, too out of control.

"Jonathan... I don't know," I managed, fighting back tears. "It hurts so much."

His face went ashen, and his hands began to tremble as he helped me to my feet. "We need to get you to the hospital. Now."

I nodded, and with Marcus still holding his phone, we rushed out of the room and into the elevator. I could hear Marcus still talking on the phone with someone, trying to figure out how to deal with the situation, but I couldn't focus on that. My entire body was tense with fear.

The car ride to the hospital felt like it lasted hours. Jonathan held my hand the entire way, his grip tight, his face a mix of concern and anger. He kept asking if I was okay, if I was still in pain, but I couldn't give him a straight answer. I didn't know what was happening. All I could do was try to focus on staying calm, on getting through this moment without losing my mind.

As soon as we arrived at the hospital, everything became a blur. I was whisked into a room, and doctors and nurses surrounded me, all asking questions, all trying to figure out what was wrong. Jonathan was at my side, hovering over me, his protective instincts in full force.

"Shouldn't we be doing something?" he asked one of the nurses, his voice starting to crack. "I need to know what's happening. Is she okay?"

Trinity arrived minutes later, her calm presence a sharp contrast to Jonathan's frantic energy. "Jon, you need to breathe," she said gently, taking his hand and pulling him back from the edge. "She's in good hands. They'll take care of her. She's going to be fine."

Jonathan shook his head, clearly unable to process the idea of anything happening to me or the babies. "I don't care about any of that. I'm not leaving her. I'm not going anywhere until I know she's safe."

Trinity stepped in, her voice firm yet soothing. "I know, but panicking won't help her. She needs you to be calm, Jonathan. She needs you to be strong for her."

He shot her a look, but Trinity didn't back down. She was right. As hard as it was for him, he needed to stay focused. I needed him to stay focused.

Trinity turned to me, her face softening as she looked at me. "How are you feeling, Tookie?"

I tried to force a smile, but the pain was still sharp. "Better... I think. But I'm scared. What if something's wrong?"

Trinity's expression softened, and she placed a reassuring hand on mine. "It's okay to be scared. You've got a lot on your plate right now, but you're strong. You've got this, Tookie. And you're not in this alone. You've got Jonathan, me, and everyone else who loves you. We'll get through this together."

Her words were a balm, and I could feel the tension in my body start to ease, just a little. She was right. I wasn't alone. I had a family that would support me no matter what. And no matter how many times life threw curveballs my way, we would face them together.

The doctor came in shortly after, explaining that it was likely a false alarm—just the added pressure of carrying triplets. But they were going to keep me for observation overnight, just to be sure.

As the doctor left, Jonathan pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down beside me, taking my hand once again. His eyes were red, his expression still full of concern, but there was a softness there now, a gentleness that hadn't been there before.

"I'm sorry I got so upset," he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. "I just... I can't lose you. I can't lose them."

I squeezed his hand, my heart swelling with love. "You won't. We're in this together, remember?"

Jonathan nodded, leaning in to kiss me gently on the forehead. "Together," he repeated, as if saying the word out loud made everything feel a little more real. A little more possible.

And in that moment, I believed it. No matter what came our way, no matter how hard the road ahead seemed, we would face it all together.