THE BABY MILL [[{SHINee}]]

THE BABY MILL [[7]] C-SECTION

He could remember the lights, the cameras, the reporters all shouting at him trying to get him to answer at least one of their questions sot heir editors wouldn’t sack them when they returned to the office. Everything was as clear as day to him: the glamorous clothing; strutting down the run way with his serious pout face. Living in the lime light and being envied by his entourage and fans.

            The Almighty Key at the height of his glory days.

            Staring at his stomach he was troubled to find his memories of the “glory days” foggy. There had never been a time during those days where he had let his body get so… Repulsive. Where was the tight, flat stomach he’d trained months to have? Where had his toned thighs disappeared to? He didn’t even want to imagine how mangled his hair and face must have been.

            It was the first time ever that he rejected the mirror as his best friend.

            It was even hard to remember the last time he’d had a bath. There was a distant image of water cascading over his body after the birth – the smell of soap still seemed to linger in his nose – but he couldn’t know for certain. Even if he had wanted to take a bath now, though, he probably wouldn’t be able to. Each joint and bone ached in his body. The blame was put on his child, but he had it to thank, too, for providing him the change of scenery. Dr. Park was still adamant about keeping them apart, but it was an improvement from his previous, tiny room.

            Key wondered if his baby liked its new living quarters. Surely it had to be more comfortable than his illegal womb… Or it might just be cold and dark and completely unsatisfying to its needs. At least in his stomach the baby had constant padding keeping it safe… And the steady (sometimes wavering) heart beat of its carrier to soothe it on those bad days. Maybe the baby hated its new environment because it had left a gaping emptiness in the person who had carried it for months.

            Loneliness seeped into his pores. His veins seemed to constrict from the greatness of the feeling.

            How could he have gone from a grade A, top pick model, star celebrity to this broken thing alone in a foreign bed?

            Suddenly he hated this room. He hated how there was more space, he hated that the door was a different colour and he hated that his bed was as hard a plank of wood.

            He didn’t even know if he’d had a girl or a boy. Sure, it had always been weird feeling that child in his tummy – he was a man after all – but it had been his only partner. When it had kicked up into his stomach during his second trimester it had comforted him to know that it was aware of his every movement and noise. It was his bosom friend. The only living being he had contact with that didn’t treat him like an experiment – like a dog with no mind or feelings of his own.

            “Work it! Work it boy!” the stage director yelled. She let out a loud, cheerful whoop to encourage the models strutting down her run way. The lights whirred in frenzy, highlighting each model in turn. Their hair sprayed hair glowed under the intense glare of the bulbs.

            Key swayed his hips dramatically; knowing this his typical pouty face had broken out into a wide smile. The times after the shows were always the best. Everyone acted silly and was loosened up more now that everything was over. The stress for the upcoming shows hadn’t settled in yet so everyone could simply relax and be merry.

            “Kibum! You’re so fierce! I love it!” JiHyun threw her hands up, pretending to be totally floored by the diva. “All of you are so great!” She fanned a hand over her face, forcibly breathing at odd intervals to make it seem like she was excited. The other models surrounding Key moved along the runway – some in heels and some barefoot – until they were nearly jointed at the hips with each other. They struck some exaggerated poses for their audience. It was hard for them to keep their giggles down. Eventually, some did end up letting a couple little snorts slip out which triggered a mass wave of chortles.

            JiHyun rose and gave them a standing ovation. Her hands clapped together ecstatically, applauding the models so they knew that they’d put on a great show.

            “Marvelous! You’re all so marvelous!” she cheered.

            Those had been the good times… When his body had been in tip top shape. Key could almost still feel his stomach muscles pushing against his ribs… The burn on his pupils when the cameras flashed to capture him in all his brilliance…

            Where was he now?

            Not even he was sure where he’d ended up…

            Did the media even care about his disappearance anymore? It was a given fact that after a few weeks the public stopped caring. And as a result of that, the media would stop caring… He may have a small mention on the eleven o’clock news every other week (you know, just a small ten minute slot), but that was nothing.

            Was anyone still looking for him? JiHyun? The small piece of family he had left? Anyone?

            Maybe they were looking for him… If they were he hoped they would work faster… They would be able to pick him out of this mess… Him and the baby.

            Once he was rescued from this place everything would be fine. A quick tummy tuck, some food and make-up and he’d be able to return to his runway life. He could still have the life he’d been living with a baby. JiHyun might call crazy for trying it, but he couldn’t very well put the thing up for adoption. No matter how abnormal it was. He had lived with it inside of him for months… Months. He couldn’t depart with it so easily…

            The widening hole in his chest told him that he already had, though. The chances of him every being able to meet his child was slim to none.

            Tears were not an option. He couldn’t cry. Not here…

            Useless.

            It was all useless. He was crying and there was nothing he could do to stop the salty water from bombing his eyelashes and staining the pillow case.

            He had nothing left anymore. There was nothing for him to hold on to in this despicable place. No life line, no hope. Everything had left him when that umbilical cord had been snipped. Every since then, he had nothing but the extra inch on his hips and a spirit so broken that even if all the king’s horses and all the king’s men worked at fixing it, they just wouldn’t be able to piece it together again…