#Something happens and btp he’s too scared to try

[doueverwonder]

Personally I think no one knows where Feliks is at any given time. He’s been living out of a suitcase since the partitions and if you want to find him you have to have 3-7 free months to track him down. Tolys is the only one who can find him in a snap.

[silverlightqueen]

Ruin My Life - Part 6

RML masterlist

fratboy!Jimin - no smut in this chapter (because there’s plenty in the previous five sksks), a w h o l e lot of angst (!!!), a bit of fluff

Summary - I don’t wanna spoil anything but um make sure you read the end of the last chapter bc it carries straight on into this part, like there’s no time jump at all

Word Count - 5.1k

Warnings - um none really, a lil bit of bitchiness, pregnancy and abortion talk, good friends Joon and Mija, snakes galore, vomiting, and a pickle (that’s not a euphemism for anything, a literal real life pickle)

a/n: I know this is kinda short but a LOT happens, sorry if there are mistakes because this is not proofread at all sksks. lmk what y���all think and hmu if you wanna be on the taglist

taglist💕: @keylowmonie @jennafromhome

silverlightqueen masterlist

‘Okay, that’s like super sexy, but what if I get a UTI?’ I say, unwillingly breaking us out of daddy-princess mode. His smirk disappears, replaced by his thoughtful face, hands stilling at my waist. ‘What if you like try to piss but hold in the pa-’ ‘I’m gonna stop you there. Even if I do manage to piss while keeping the pants in me, I could get like an infection or something. I’m really sorry to ruin what would have been super sexy, but I don’t wanna put my health at risk,’ I say, and he nods in agreement, somewhat forlorn. ‘Fine, go have a shower, you spoilsport,’ he says, and I swat at him, listening to his giggles as he dodges me. ‘I was about to ask you to join, but forget it,’ I say, heading towards my en suite. ‘No, I’m sorry, princess!’ he cries, chasing after me, ‘I take it back!’

‘Good evening, sir and madam. Can I get the beautiful young couple anything to drink?’ the very enthusiastic waiter says, appearing out of nowhere, startling us both. I go to correct him, to say that, no, we’re not a couple, but Jimin speaks before I can. ‘A bottle of wine, babe? Or do you want something else?’ he asks me. ‘Wine’s good,’ I reply with a smile, watching as Jimin orders a very expensive bottle. He looks so beautiful, dirty blond locks swept back and exposing a strip of his forehead, in a pair of smart black trousers, white shirt and black bomber jacket resting on the back of his chair. He asked me to match with him so I’m dressed in a little black lace bodycon dress with lacy sleeves and a frilly hem, black Valentino flats (gifted from Mija) on my feet and a black clutch sat on the table, hair straight down my back and makeup glowy and tan. ‘I’ll bring that to you in just a moment. Are you having starters tonight, or just mains?’ he asks us, Jimin looking to me. ‘I think we’ll just have mains,’ I say, thinking back to the bag of Doritos we shared just before we left. Jimin grins, nodding in agreement, and the waiter smiles. ‘Okay, you decide what you’d like, then, and I’ll take your orders when I come back with your wine,’ he says, leaving with the drinks’ menu. 

The restaurant is absolutely beautiful, dark and atmospheric, the low hum of chatter coupled with an obscure jazz song floating out from hidden speakers. A fountain bubbling with frothy water, glowing pink with lights, glides down the far wall, made of black marble, as are all of the surfaces here, and chandeliers hang above our heads, casting mellow light over us. Behind Jimin is a faux blossom tree, a beautiful backdrop for a (completely irritatingly) beautiful man. ‘Do you like the restaurant?’ he asks me with a soft smile, and I nod. ‘It’s so beautiful, I love it. Thank you,’ I say, and he rests a hand over mine across the table, finger running over the ring he gave me. ‘It’s nothing. I think it was about time I took you out, right? Wrecked your shit that many times,’ he jokes, and I raise an eyebrow, supressing a laugh. ‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ I say, and then he raises an eyebrow. ‘Are you really trying to claim otherwise?’ he asks, and I decide to back down before we start to argue, telling him to change the subject but before he can… ‘Jimin! Is that you?’ 

Her shrill voice sounds from behind me, and I roll my eyes as I see Jimin’s focus move upwards over my head. ‘Oh, hi, Jeongyeon,’ he says tentatively, obviously thinking about the fact that she and I are not exactly… friends, you could say. She appears at the side of our table, a gaggle of girls from her sorority, LSG, surrounding her, chatting away between themselves. ‘Oh, y/n. What a surprise. I didn’t know the two of you were friends,’ she says, eyeing me warily, fake smile pasted onto her face. I watch as her eyes slide down to land on Jimin’s hand resting on mine. ‘Unless… are you two, like, dating?’ she exclaims, catching the attention of her sisters. ‘No, we’re just friends,’ I reply, neither of us moving our hands. ‘That ring says otherwise,’ she says drily, almost jealously, and the girls gasp. ‘Oh, my God, are you two engaged?’ Sana, the only girl in their sorority that I actually like, exclaims, and we both laugh. ‘No, we aren’t,’ I say, Jimin nodding in agreement. ‘So, who’s it from then?’ Jeongyeon asks, and I roll my eyes, wondering why she’s still here. ‘Me. But it’s not an engagement ring,’ Jimin says shortly, obviously sensing my annoyance. ‘Well, make sure you get that out there, otherwise people will think you’ve wifed her because she’s pregnant!’ Jeongyeon laughs, neither of us letting our shock at her guess show as we laugh gently. 

‘Well, this has been nice,’ she begins. ‘Has it?’ I mutter, but she carries on, having not heard me. ‘But, we’d better head to our table. We’re going out to the Ace of Hearts after, so you guys are welcome to join if you’d like,’ she offers. ‘We’re good, luv, enjoy,’ I say, Jimin coughing over my words. ‘Sorry, what was that?’ she asks falsely, and I go to repeat my words. ‘She said we’ll see if we have time, and she’s right. I might be too busy wrecking her,’ he says, not thinking before the words leave his mouth. Jeongyeon chokes, looking at us wide-eyed, the other girls now distracted chatting between themselves again, and I laugh. ‘He’s kidding, obviously,’ I say, and Jimin nods, laughing too. ‘Oh, right. Of course,’ she says, tittering obnoxiously. ‘Well, we’ll leave you to it, but it’s been nice to see you both. Enjoy your night,’ she says, dragging her girls away after neither Jimin nor I reply to her. ‘Bye, Sana,’ I say as she passes the table. ‘Bye, babe. Treat her well,’ Sana says, turning to face Jimin, attempting to be threatening but, with her dinky figure and adorable voice, is about as scary as a puppy Pomeranian i.e. not scary at all. Unless you’re scared of dogs. Maybe a little kitten. Okay, I lowkey have a cat phobia, and ‘little kitten’ kinda sounds kinky. Um, a human baby. Actually, they’re scary as hell. All crying and scrunched up with they alien-looking headass, gross. Jimin’s eye smile. Actually, nothing’s that cute. Anyway, I’m getting distracted. 

‘I will, Sana, don’t worry. Make sure you treat Joon right,’ he grins, and she blushes deeply. ‘Namjoon? There’s nothing between us two,’ she stutters, Jimin nodding indulgently. ‘Sana!’ Jeongyeon shouts from somewhere in the restaurant, and Sana rushes off, embarrassed. ‘Her and Joon, huh?’ I ask, and he nods, smirking. ‘They’ve been talking the past couple days nonstop, since our party, and they’re both really into each other by the looks of it. They’re cute. I hope it lasts,’ Jimin says, and I feel warm at the way he speaks about his brother’s happiness. ‘Same, and I’m sure they will. They’re both super nice people, and I can so see them together,’ I say, Jimin nodding in agreement. ‘Anyway,’ he grins, changing the subject, ‘as much as I really need you to keep your mouth shut and your bitchy thoughts to yourself in the future, I think I’m starting to see why you and Jeongyeon don’t get along.’ ‘Correction: why I don’t like her anymore. She still thinks we’re friends, apparently,’ I say, and he nods, hand still on mine. ‘Why exactly don’t you like her? Besides her being her, that is,’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘She’s the head of LSG, right? Well, Mija convinced me to rush LSG with her, even though we were a year late, but she spoke to Sana and she’d said that Jeongyeon was accepting older students. So we rushed LSG and Jeongyeon was so excited to see us there, because she’d wanted us to be part of the sorority for ages, so naturally she accepted us, but then told us that the only room available was the basement, and that rent was £750 a month. Each,’ I say, Jimin’s mouth dropping open in shock. ‘I know. So then we were both like ‘fuck that’ and we decided we didn’t want to join the sorority and she basically threw a bitch fit and told us to fuck off,’ I explain, Jimin holding back a laugh at the end. I don’t tell him about the bit where she found out Jimin and I were fucking and told me to back off because he was hers. 

‘I don’t blame you guys. I wouldn’t paid that much for a luxury penthouse suite, let alone a shitty basement,’ he agrees with me, the waiter appearing with our wine and two glasses. We both watch as he pours us out a glass each, leaving the bottle on the side for us to help ourselves to. Jimin goes to speak and then his phone vibrates, catching both of our attention. He checks it and frowns, before groaning. ‘What’s happened?’ I ask him, and he sighs. ‘Impromptu party at ours. Apparently, JK invited a couple girls from BTP over, they thought it was a party and brought the whole sorority along with their boyfriends, and their boyfriends brought their friends so now there’s a party,’ Jimin says, and I supress a laugh at how things blew out of control. ‘They’ve asked me to go back,’ Jimin says, and I tilt my head in confusion. ‘Why?’ ‘We have this rule that we don’t have any parties in the house without us seven there, to keep control if anything happens,’ he explains, sounding extremely fed up. ‘Let’s go then,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘I don’t want to go, though,’ he whines, and my heart melts. ‘I know, I don’t want to either, but if they need you, we should go. We’ll reschedule,’ I say, and he sticks out his lower lip. ‘They don’t need me, though. Let’s just stay for mains, and then we’ll go,’ he suggests, and I sigh, nodding. ‘We’ll have to eat quick, though,’ I say, ‘if the house gets trashed, it’s on you.’ 

‘The house is literally trashed,’ Namjoon says when his eyes land on us, the unfinished bottle of champagne in Jimin’s hand, his other hand in mine. ‘Seriously?’ I ask, shooting Jimin a look. ‘Yes. The upstairs is all fine, but the downstairs is a mess. Someone spilled red wine over the living room wall, and there’s piss in the sink. Oh, and I’m pretty sure that’s shit smeared across the floor,’ he says, completely deadpan, motioning to a brown stain on the kitchen tiles. ‘Oh, god, that is fucking disgusting,’ I groan over the noise of a group of boys doing a keg stand on the kitchen table. ‘It’s literally chocolate,’ Jimin says with a roll of his eyes, picking up the purple wrapper sat next to the stain. ‘That is besides the point. The house is that trashed that there is literally a stain that looks like shit on the floor,’ Namjoon says. He’s sat at the island with an entire bottle of Hennessy in his hands, looking as though he’s trying to drink away his sorrows. ‘Where are the other boys?’ I ask. ‘Jin’s hidden in his room because someone spilled rum on his new Gucci shirt and he’s sulking. Yoongi’s in the garden smoking weed or sniffing coke, I don’t know anymore. Hobi’s in his room with a BTP girl. Tae’s dancing in the living room. And JK’s doing the keg stand,’ he says, the chaos actually making me supress my laughter. ‘Right, okay. Everyone out!’ Jimin shouts, unplugging the sound system. Everyone begins groaning as Jimin starts shouting, ‘Party’s over. Get out or we’re calling the police! Out! Everyone out!’ ‘Your boyfriend is so sexy,’ a girl called Chae on my course says to me, suddenly appearing out of nowhere. ‘What?’ I ask, taken by surprise. ‘Jimin. The way he’s kicking everyone out, all dominant and shit. He’s sexy,’ she says, and I splutter with shock. ‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ I say, and she raises an eyebrow. ‘Okay, lil miss just-came-in-from-a-date-holding-hands-matching-outfits-ring-on-my-wedding-finger-but-he’s-not-my-boyfriend-even-though-we’re-definitely-fucking,’ she teases me, and I shake my head, holding back a laugh. ‘I’ll see you in tomorrow’s lecture. If you’re walking weird, I’m gonna know why,’ she calls over her shoulder, the house emptied out considerably now. 

Cups and bottles and empty food containers and actual bits of food litter the entire bottom floor of the house, some questionable stains painting the walls, and I begin to clean up. I grab a mop and scrub the stains off the kitchen floor before starting with a cloth on the living room walls. I then get a black bag and collect up all the rubbish (wearing gloves, of course) whilst Jimin attempts to still kick people out, Tae helping him, Jin, Yoongi and Hobi all missing, Namjoon nursing his Hennessy like a lone cowboy moping at the bar of a saloon, and Jungkook lying across the dining room table, either unconscious or dead. I’ve nearly got the entire bottom floor back to its normal state (I would say clean, but this house cannot ever be called clean; even if it were flooded with Dettol and bleach, it’d still have alcohol and semen stains everywhere) when I find something slimy lying on the floor in the corner of the kitchen. ‘What the…’ I whisper to myself, slowly inching towards it, before I realise what it is. A pickle. Just a pickle lying on the floor. Now, before I explain what happens next, I just want you to know; I’m not that fussy of an eater. I’ll pass on snails and octopus, thanks, but I’ll never say no to a pickle. But the sight of it lying there has my stomach muscles clenching and my hand glued to my mouth in disgust. Normally, I’d say something stupid like ‘mood’ or ‘me’ (because a lone pickle on the floor really does encapsulate how I feel sometimes) but then I smell it. The sharp and pungent acidity of sour vinegar hits me, and I can’t hold myself back anymore. 

All of the expensive dinner that Jimin paid for forces its way back up my throat and lands on top of the pickle, making me wretch and heave even more. And I’m the kind of person that throws up at the sight of someone puking, and so the more I throw up, the more it makes me want to throw up. It’s a vicious cycle of vomit. Tears stream down my face, my stomach and throat aching as my body produces an endless amount of sick, making me feel absolutely disgusted with myself. Finally, after what feels like an age – and the pickle is drowned in my vomit – I feel a comforting hand on my back, rubbing circles, and another hand holding back my hair. Once I’m finally done, I turn to see Namjoon, looking like he’s trying his hardest not to throw up himself. I don’t blame him. ‘Sorry,’ I breathe out before limping over to the sink, entire body aching, and splash my face with water before rinsing out my mouth, desperate to get the taste from my mouth. Once I’m done cleaning myself up, I turn to see Namjoon putting down what looks like kitchen towels on top of my vomit. ‘What good is that gonna do?’ I ask, and he laughs. ‘They’re special vomit sheets. They soak it all up, so you don’t have to mop it up and shit. I’ve got hundreds, because… well, we’re a frat, ain’t we?’ he says, and I laugh, impressed. I love a good contraption. ‘God, I’m so sorry, Joon. I’ll clean them up after,’ I say, and he waves me off. ‘It’s fine, it’s fine. You just stay here and have some water, I’ll go get Jimin,’ he says, and I give him a smile of thanks. He disappears for a few minutes and, when he returns, I’ve finished a pint of water, feeling much better for it. ‘I can’t find him so d’you wanna just come up to my room? It’s been a while since we had a sleepover, and you promised me a binge sesh. On My Block season two is calling my name,’ he offers with a grin, and I can’t help but grin back. ‘Oh, Joon, you know me,’ I say, ‘how can I possibly say no?’ 

‘Joon,’ I hiss, tugging at the cover that he’s taken all of, not a single fibre of the shitty material on me. I still can’t believe I actually sleep in his bed, knowing the string of girls he probably has in here. It’s like he can hear me mentally cussing him out because he doesn’t budge an inch, keeping an ironlike grip on the covers. ‘Namjoon,’ I hiss again, nudging him this time, and he lets out a loud snore. ‘For fuck’s sake,’ I mutter, turning over to check the clock. 5.57. I might as well get up and head back to mine and Mija’s to get ready for my 8am lecture this morning. I sigh, climbing out of the bed, and look for a clean pair of socks, not having it in me to walk barefoot in their frat house. I find a pair of Nike socks smelling like fresh washing powder and slip them on, heading out to the bathroom. To get to the bathroom, you have to go past Jimin’s room, and I decide to take a detour, wanting to see if he’s in there. And then, just as a place my hand on the handle, I hear a voice. And it’s not Jimin’s. 

My heart nearly stops, and I freeze completely, wanting to hear the person speak more. I hear Jimin’s morning voice, a low groan signalling that he’s just woken up, and I press my ear to the door, trying not to think about the germs. I hear the other person speak then and it’s for sure; it’s female. I feel tears spring to my eyes and try so hard not to let them fall down my face, trying to work out who it is. The person gets closer to the door then, the floorboards creaking, and I dart into the bathroom as quietly as possible, listening out to see who it is. I peek through the door, cracked open slightly, and watch with bated breath and a pounding heart as his bedroom door opens. The person steps out and I have to clap a hand over my mouth to stop any kind of reaction. She hears the noise, turning to look in this direction, and I duck away from the crack in the door, trying to stay silent. I hear her mutter something before heading downstairs. I relax then, shutting the door and locking it, before I slide down to the floor, holding back my tears, the image of Jeongyeon leaving Jimin’s room wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts imprinted into my brain. I know now why Namjoon offered to have a binge sesh; he must have seen Jimin with Jeongyeon and not have had the heart to tell me. I don’t blame him though, and I don’t blame Jeongyeon either. I told her several times last night that Jimin and I aren’t together so it’s not like he wasn’t fair game. It’s him I’m angry at and I have to physically restrain myself from storming into his room and throttling him, knowing I need to cool down before facing him. I creep out of the bathroom, back into Namjoon’s room, where he snores loudly, still deep in sleep, and wait until I hear Jeongyeon come back upstairs. Then I leave Joon a note to say thank you for the binge-watch sesh before creeping out of the sleeping frat house, heading home. 

‘He just called me again,’ Mija says from the doorway of my bedroom, hand on hip, looking down at me sprawled out across my bed, watching To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before, an empty tub of Ben and Jerry’s cookie dough lying beside me. ‘Tell him to fuck off,’ I say savagely, pausing the screen on Noah Centineo’s beautiful face. ‘I didn’t answer. Shall I block him? He’s gonna start spamming me soon,’ Mija says, coming to sit next to me. ‘No, you can’t block him. Just send him a text saying I’m ill or something, and don’t answer his calls,’ I say, and Mija sighs. ‘y/n, you can’t avoid him forever. You need to confront him at some point,’ she says, and now it’s my turn to sigh. ‘How can I confront him? We weren’t together, Mija. I can’t get mad at him, because he hadn’t committed to me,’ I say, and she shakes her head. ‘No, y/n, I’m sorry, I’m not having it. He cannot literally treat you as though you’re his girlfriend, take you on dates and give you his ring and call you his, but then fuck other people because he hasn’t committed to you. I’m not having it, y/n, and you aren’t either,’ Mija says, and y/n shakes her head. ‘It’s okay, Mija, I’ve cut him off once before, and I can do it again. I was an idiot to make the same mistake twice anyway,’ I say, despite the way my heart aches at the thought of him.

I’ve had a few days to process what happened and those days consisted of lots of tears, several empty tissue boxes and ice cream tubs, missed lectures and sleepless nights, and 1067 unopened texts and 432 missed calls from Jimin, as well as some from the other boys too. I’ve just left my phone beneath my bed, knowing I’m too lazy to crawl under and get it. He’s also stopped by the apartment a few times, using his spare key, and I’ve had to hide in several very creative hiding places; in one of the kitchen cupboards, under Mija’s bed and on top of the fridge to name a few. I just can’t bring myself to look him in the face after seeing Jeongyeon leave his room. And I know I can’t even get angry, because he’s always been so open with his allergy to commitment and we both knew that we weren’t together. He had every right, I guess. 

‘No, y/n, don’t be passive. You can’t let him get away with it,’ she pleads, and I shake my head. And then a wave of nausea hits me, and I retch, clutching at my mouth. I jump out of bed, stumbling to the bathroom, and I drop to my knees, vomiting into the toilet. Mija holds back my hair whilst I vomit up everything in my stomach, my body not stopping until I feel empty. I don’t even feel angry or upset, ignoring the way my stomach clenches, throat aches and eyes stream, and get up, washing my face. ‘y/n, babe, I’m worried. This is, like, the third time this week. You need to get to a doctor’s, babe,’ she says, and I shake my head. ‘I’m fine, honestly. It’s probably just a sick bug or something. I’ll survive,’ I say, and Mija bites at her nails, looking like she wants to say something. ‘What? What d’you wanna say?’ I ask tiredly, and Mija sighs. ‘Babe, don’t you think you might be… you know?’ Mija says, and I prompt her, not having a clue what she’s talking about. ‘Don’t you think you might be pregnant?’ she asks, and her words hit me like a ton of bricks. How did I not even think about being pregnant? But… ‘I can’t be. I took a pregnancy test, and it was negative, and I got my period,’ I say, feeling faint. ‘You might not have been pregnant yet, babe. And it might have just been some sporadic bleeding,’ Mija suggests, as my head spins feeling dizzy. ‘Get me out a pregnancy test,’ I ask, and Mija obliges, handing me one from the cupboard beneath the sink. I wee on it, not feeling at all embarrassed considering we’ve both walked in on each other in the shower. Several times. Intentionally (not like that, to ask if the other wanted food or something along those lines – not gonna lie, though, her body is banging. Even though we both cussed out the ASP boys for suggesting it, I probably wouldn’t say no if I was a bit tipsy).  

Once I’m done, I clean the stick and she takes it from me, staring at it unwaveringly as I sit on the toilet seat, head in my hands out of stress. ‘Mija, staring at it won’t make the result come up quicker,’ I snap, taking out my stress on her, but she doesn’t care, knowing there’s no real venom behind it. She goes to reply but then gasps, staring at the stick. ‘What? What does it say? Actually, don’t tell me. I don’t wanna know. I’ll just live the rest of my life without knowing. If I put on a lot of weight in the next nine months, I’ll find out that way instead. Just don’t tell m-’ ‘It’s positive,’ she says, putting an end to my rambling, and I fall silent, mouth hanging open. ‘It’s positive, y/n. You’re pregnant,’ she says, handing me the stick. I stare at the writing on the stick, reading one week, and I burst into tears, not sure whether they’re happy or sad. Mija puts her arms around me, comforting me until I’m done, and she steps back from me, holding on to my shoulders. ‘Mija,’ I say solemnly, and she nods just as solemnly. ‘I’m sorry to break it to you,’ I say, ‘but you’re the dad.’ 

‘Miss y/l/n,’ the receptionist says, and Mija and I rise from our seats. ‘Room 9, please,’ she says, pointing towards the door without a look at us, and we head through into the linoleum corridor of the hospital, beneath the fluorescent lights. ‘Nervous?’ Mija asks, and I shake my head, genuinely not feeling nervous. ‘Good. You don’t need to be,’ Mija says, holding my hand, and I nod as we reach the door. Mija knocks and the doctor calls out for us to come in, Mija swinging open the door. Before we even step in, I spot who’s sat in there, and my heart nearly stops. ‘Chungae?’ Mija demands, and the girl looks up at us in surprise. ‘Mija, y/n. Hi,’ she says, smiling a smile that doesn’t put me at all at ease. Chungae’s a girl in LSG, Jeongyeon’s sorority, and she studies midwifery. Probably why she’s sat beside the doctor in a nurse’s outfit, wearing a visitor badge. She must be doing a bit of work experience. ‘Chungae, you didn’t tell me you knew our patient today,’ the doctor says, sounding slightly exasperated, and I feel sorry for the poor woman, unable to imagine how hard it must be working alongside one of the most annoying girls I’ve met. ‘You didn’t tell me any names,’ Chungae says indignantly, and the doctor sighs. ‘Well, you can’t be in here if you know the patient. You’ll have to go and join Dr Jung in Room 7,’ the doctor says, Chungae rising from her seat in a huff and brushing past us without a goodbye.

I look at Mija in horror once the door’s shut behind us, terrified. ‘What if she tells Jeongyeon I’m getting an abortion? She’ll tell Jimin and everyone else,’ I say, and Mija shakes her head. ‘She won’t, and even if she does, we’ll say that it was me getting the abortion. Everyone knows I’m a slag,’ Mija says, coaxing a laugh out of the doctor. ‘Don’t worry, y/n, Chungae has signed a privacy waver and so she cannot speak about the patients here. If she breaks it, she will have a criminal record and so will not get hired by any hospitals. I will remind her of this when you have left,’ the doctor says, putting my mind at ease. At least if Chungae blabs, she’ll get a lovely serving of karma. ‘Take a seat, y/n. My name is Dr Choi and I’ll be carrying out your abortion today. The process is very short and pain free due to the anaesthetic we’ll administer to you, and we’ll just keep you behind for a few hours after in order to do some tests. Am I correct in believing that Dr Jung placed a dilating tablet into your vagina around three hours ago?’ she asks, and I nod, Mija holding my hand comfortingly. ‘You are unable to have a medical abortion due to an allergy to one of the chemicals contained in mifepristone, and so we will be completing a suction aspiration abortion today. You’ve opted to have general anaesthetic rather than local anaesthetic, meaning you’ll be put asleep during the process. Is that correct?’ she asks, and I nod again, feeling the nerves kick in slightly. 

‘I’ll just explain the procedure to you now, just so we’re one hundred percent sure on what’s going to happen and whether you’re definite about following through with the procedure as it is never to late to change your mind if you wish to do so. First, we will take you down to a private surgery room where you can change into your hospital robe behind a screen. You’ve selected for Kim Mija to be your companion during the process and so she will be present throughout,’ Dr Choi says, Mija wincing at the mention of her popular last name. ‘We will administer the general anaesthetic through a mask as soon as you tell us that you are ready. It will kick in after a minute or so and you will lightheaded before falling unconscious. We will then start the procedure which will begin with inserting a tube through the cervix and into the womb. We will then remove the pregnancy through suction. The procedure takes between 5 and 10 minutes and as soon as it is done, we will administer you with local anaesthetic to act as a painkiller in the cervix and then stop supplying the general anaesthesia, meaning you will wake up within the next hour. We’ll then carry out a few tests, just to check that everything is okay, and then you are free to go home. You must stay at home for 48 hours with someone with you at all times as the general anaesthesia may cause memory loss, loss of concentration or disorientation. Avoid driving, drinking and signing any legal documents for 48 hours after the procedure. Do you have any other questions?’ Dr Choi asks, my mind swimming with information. Mija squeezes my hand comfortingly, and I smile. ‘No, Doctor,’ I say, ‘I’m ready.’