FAUX REAL

35

Oh my God. That was close.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.

I attempt to control my breathing as I run to the washroom, stumbling over my feet as I burst through the doors and drop my stuff on the sink. Gripping the edge of the counter, I look at my flushed reflection.

What are you doing, you stupid girl? You don't have time for this. You don't have any room for error, mistakes, nothing. You need to focus. You need to concentrate on what matters. She's just a girl. A girl that is not more important than your future. She's not.

Harvard. That's the only thing that matters. Not her. Not her. Not her. Harvard. Don't be this person. Don't lose focus. We can't lose focus. We can't let daddy down. We can't bring shame to our family name. We can't. We can't. We can't.

I let out a long exhale, fumbling through my purse as I pull out a mint tin that's monogrammed with Mark's logo and pop an Adderall into my mouth. Homework. That's what we're doing tonight. That's what matters.

If only my heart would just slow the fuck down.

As I'm shoving the tin back into my purse, a faint echo of sobs fills my ears. At least I'm not the only one having a bad day. I snort internally. A bad year is more like it. Circling the sinks, I quietly walk over to the stalls, following the sounds of weeping.

Pausing in front of the line of teal wooden doors, I gently ask, "Hey, are you okay?"

"Shit!" A voice mutters from behind the stall. My gaze darts to a rectangular box hitting the tiled floor. My eyes widen as I read the logo. Clearblue. A hand reaches down, yanking it off the floor. I catch the daisy ring on her ring finger. "Fuck!"

Holy shit. No way.

"Seulgi?" I ask awkwardly, still trying to wrap my head around what I just saw. "Are you- are you okay?"

"Go away!" she cries. "Leave me alone!"

I know I should. I know I should leave. I shouldn't pry. I shouldn't care. But my feet don't seem to be moving away. No. They're moving closer to her.

"Seul-"

"I said go away!" she yells. "Go. Away!"

My heart clenches as I mindlessly check the other stalls. Empty. I turn around and head to the exit. I hear the shimmying of a stall unlocking as I grab the 'closed for cleaning' sign from the maintenance closet and hang it on the door before bolt locking it. I don't know why I'm doing this. It's not me. It's instinctual. Like I'm on auto-pilot.

"Hey," I whisper, turning the corner to find her bent over the sink, splashing water on her face. "Are you okay?"

"What are you still doing here?" she spits, mascara running down her cheeks. "I told you to fuck off."

"Everything is going to be okay," I glance at the unopened pregnancy test on the counter. "You're going to be fine."

Her jaw clenches, tears welling up in her eyes. "Well, thanks Miss Perfect. That means so much coming from you! You can leave now."

"You have options," I say, cautiously moving towards her. "Whatever you want to do, there are options."

She scoffs, wiping her face. "You must be getting a kick out of this, huh? You must be loving this, aren't you?"