Sanity // s.m. [IN EDITING]

[15]

Shawn

***

"You're what?" I hold my breath, slowly shaking my head. My eyes were wide with fear and surprise, and it was actually physically impossible to swallow.

"I'm pregnant," she confirms.

I look around for someplace to sit down, to breathe for a moment. Mum was at the store, picking up some food for the long ride to Scotland, but for some reason I was really nervous that she was going to walk in any second and hear this whole conversation.

"We... We didn't... Is this from the night after my first show in London?" I ask, trying to make sense of things. We used a condom, there was literally no way she could be pregnant.

She's gonna laugh and tell me she's just kidding any minute now. Any minute. Any second. Come on, Sarah. Fucking laugh.

Oh god.

"I guess so," she says. "I.. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," I avoid her gaze.

Tell me you're kidding. Stop staring at me. Say it's a joke.

"I guess this is going to change a lot of things," she says, sounding like she was on the verge of tears. I wanted to comfort her, but I couldn't move.

How did an interviewer know before I did?

"How did an interviewer know before I did?" I say out loud. "I mean, I am the father, right?"

FATHER? Did I really use that word?

"Yeah," she nods quickly. "I'm positive."

Positive?

"I'm not ready for this," I say through a deep breath.

She releases her teeth from her lip, rubbing her eyes with her fingers. "I'm not either, but, you know, it's still gonna happen. We can't stop it, baby."

Baby?

"How did an interviewer know?" I ask again.

"It wasn't in an interview," she responds. "But some reporter saw me walking into a doctor's office last night, you know, to get an appointment."

Appointment?

"I need t-to step outside for f-for a second?" It came out as a question.

I jolt up, not even letting her finish before I was racing out the door. I run down the long, narrow hallway of the hotel before I reach the elevators, pressing the button, which illuminates immediately, then I repeatedly press it, as if it will speed up the process.

When it still didn't open, I make a run for the stairs. Stairs will release more energy and nerves.

I breathe unsteadily as I fly down each step, each floor, each entrance, each exit... until I burst out the front door of the hotel.

I wipe some nervous sweat from my forehead as my eyes well up with tears, too many things running through my mind at once.

What will Mum think when she finds out?

What about Aaliyah?

What about Sarah's parents, her family?

Dear sweet baby Jesus, the fucking fans. How will they react? I knocked up my girlfriend. I knocked up my girlfriend!

They're going to hate me.

My life is going to spiral from sucking to absolute hell.

It's all my fault.