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ᵐᵃʸᵇᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵃˢ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ
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Lorelai Gilmore was sixteen, heavily pregnant and coffee-deprived. The doctor had told her to cut back on the coffee and her mother had since not allowed a drop of caffeine in the house. The baby currently kicking her bladder was the only thing keeping her going, despite the hell-ride the last nine months had been. With her mother and father flitting between over-protective and disappointed every single day, she was exhausted and the only person who brought her any comfort was Chris, when he would sneak into her bedroom and they'd lay on her bed, the one with too many frilly pink quilts, and talk about their child and it's future. He wanted to call it Chris if it was a boy, desperate for a little mini-me, and if it was a girl, he liked Maria. She wasn't sure. She hadn't actually comprehended the fact she was growing a life inside of her yet, let alone the fact she had to name it. As she waddled through the hospital's maternity ward for her last check up before her due date, which was only in six days, she looked around at the other expectant mothers, suddenly guilty of her age. Lorelai continued down the pink corridor, headed for her appointment. Her mother would be her soon, fussing and disapproving. Perhaps this baby would be Lorelai's way out. A girl was pushed passed her, about her age. She was pregnant too, slightly bigger than Lorelai, and looked as though she was in labor. Her face was stricken with panic, as though apologetic for the fuss, as she clutched her stomach and held in breaths of pain. She was pushed quickly by a soothing nurse who rushed past Lorelai, clutching the handles of the wheelchair tightly. Maybe something was wrong.
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Christopher Hayden was sixteen, free and drunk. Though he was similar to the other teenagers whooping along to the music, the problems he was drinking away were maybe more serious than the other's. His girlfriend-ish was at the moment at the hospital, for her last appointment before she gave birth to their child. He was drunk right now, brown hair flopped over his forehead, damp with sweat from dancing in the crowded room. His wrist was limp but his grip was tight on the bottle of champagne that hung by his side, because despite the way he was dancing at that very moment, he was still filthy rich and proud of it. But his intoxicated mind was far from his mate's library-turned-club, some place in the future with Lorelai on his arm and a young child at their feet. Because, of course, there was no way this was going to ruin his or Lorelai's lives, because it was a whole other life they could add to their crazy existence. But the worry still gnawed at his insides, burrowing out from his mind and infecting his every movement. It was no help how much his parents argued, and how he was banned from the Gilmore estate now and how many glares and stares and looks he got from parents and teenagers alike. A girl brushed past him, comforted by a few friends as she muffled the horrified screams that were escaping her mouth as she was led towards the exit, phone alight with a call clutched in her hand, limp and loose. She was short, tan skinned and brown haired, he noted as he watched, drunk. Maybe something was wrong.
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Melissa Lopez was fifteen, in labor and trying not to cry. She was scared and in pain, and although she was normally a chilled out person, this was threatening to make her snap. Her mother hadn't spoken to her in six months and her father had left two weeks before she realized she was pregnant. Her baby brothers and her older sister had been moved to her grandmother's house so that she wouldn't be a 'bad influence' on them. Rio had been banned from her entire street and she had been house bound since her bump had began to show. She had been the disgrace of her mother's church for nine months. Actually, she was the disgrace of the whole world according to her family, who hadn't stopped spitting passive aggressive insults since she had told them she was expecting with a stupid little hopeful smile on her face. And now, the child she had wanted since she was hoping to have since she was six was trying to kill her. She couldn't tell whether she was crying from the pain or from the fact that she had to give up the baby so soon after giving birth. She was trying to focus on the actual labor part rather than the other part, the one she was dreading already. But from the worried glances from the nurses and the loud beeping in the room, she paled even more. Maybe something was wrong.
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Rio Myles was dead. He never meant to, it had never been an option, especially not since Melissa had told him he was pregnant. But things had been piling up for years and he had broken underneath the pressure. The disaster he had left behind couldn't hurt him now, but it had hurt everyone else.
