Ship/Member: Minghao & Wonwoo Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: Dystopian idolverse au, Vaguely based on Never Let Me Go, Discussions of pregnancy including implied miscarriage Permission to remix: Yes
***
“Noona, stay healthy, okay? I'm really happy for you — I’m cheering you on!” Minghao smiles, cheeks rounding as he waves at the phone. The woman on screen grins back, leaning backwards so her hands are visible in the frame. She doesn't have to move too much — her belly is large, putting some distance between her and the phone propped up on her desk. In the blur of her waving arms Minghao sees a clunky, industrial-looking band strapped tight around her wrist, a bright red LED blinking at him stoically from its casing of metal and black plastic. He blinks back, momentarily stunned, and then the phone is passed down the line to Wonwoo and he's greeted by a new blank screen.
“Hyung, did you talk to that pregnant carat today?” Seungkwan asks when the fansign is over and they're waiting for the managers to bring the cars around. He's rubbing at his fingers, trying to get some of the ink marks off so he can take a selfie.
“Mhmm.” Minghao grunts in acknowledgement. “She’s seven months along.”
“Woah.” Seungkwan sneaks a glance. “Do you think…” He trails off. Tact is something Seungkwan has always prided himself on, though his curiosity is hardly one to go gently into that good night.
“Seungkwan-ah, it's bad luck to ask about a baby this close to the due date,” Jeonghan drawls from the right of Minghao. It doesn't sound true, but Minghao has no way of knowing for sure. He's never seen a woman this far along in a pregnancy through natural means. He doubts any of them have. A long time ago there had been a bump, he'd run his hands across it as his mother smiled down at him through tears, and then the flash of ambulance lights, and then his father, this time, crying, a pile of bills on the kitchen table, and Minghao had said, Ba, don't worry, and called the number of the entertainment company the next day and signed the contract and boarded the plane. Hope was a thing that money could buy, in this world, and even as a child Minghao had known that. What he hadn’t realized was that the damage had already been done, the price of two losses in a row much greater than even his eventual success could afford.
“And leave the marker stains. It's endearing.” Seungkwan gives Jeonghan a look, then brings his phone up to snap some finger heart selfies.
Later, Wonwoo finds Minghao in the kitchen eating a simple meal. It's dinnertime, but everyone else prefers to spend the short respite between schedules sleeping, or at least sprawled out on their beds staring at the ceiling, recovering whatever energy they can muster after three weeks of nonstop promotions. Wonwoo roots around in the fridge for a bit, then says, “my cousin got pregnant when I was young.”
“Oh.” Minghao puts his chopsticks down, not sure what to ask.
“No one thought she would make it. I mean, Changwon…” Wonwoo shakes his head. “The radiation and all. I was just a kid, so I didn't really understand why it was such a big deal. My parents helped, driving her to the tests, filling out paperwork. The government gave the whole family compensation.” He chuckles, a bit darkly. “I still remember all the good food we had that year.”
“What — what happened to her?”
Wonwoo takes a sip of his water. “She was determined to have the baby. It was hell on her body, but she wouldn't give up. She was really careful, did everything right, and in the end,” he tilts his head, “he came out perfectly healthy. No major complications or anything. What were the odds?” Wonwoo stretches his arms. “A natural-born baby is precious — they wouldn't use him for donations. The government paid them to move to Busan. We thought they were set for life. Just…”
He only hesitates for a moment, letting his arms fall to his sides. It's not like he's above being cruel, nor is any one of them too precious to hurt at this point, after all the years they've spent together. Besides, Wonwoo knows that sparing Minghao the truth for the sake of his feelings would be too obvious, with the way the other is watching him now; what's more, it would be taken as an even greater cruelty.
“Once they know you're capable of a natural pregnancy and birth — there are things they can get from your body that they can't from IVF, or from clones just yet. They monitor you closely, run tests, take blood, eggs, whatever. Maybe they make you try again, and again. You're basically a full-time lab subject.” Wonwoo puts the drink back in the fridge. “My cousin gave me some of the money she got for it all, so I could come to Seoul to be a trainee.”
Minghao nods. “She was fortunate, though, still. In a way. I mean, she had the child she always wanted.”
Down the hall, the members begin to stir, rubbing at their tired faces and swearing quietly when their palms come away smeared with carefully applied concealer and eyeshadow.
Wonwoo’s phone pings, a reminder for them to leave, and he dismisses the notification without looking. “Yeah. And she made it out.”
[FILL] The price we pay
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: Dystopian idolverse au, Vaguely based on Never Let Me Go, Discussions of pregnancy including implied miscarriage
Permission to remix: Yes
***
“Noona, stay healthy, okay? I'm really happy for you — I’m cheering you on!” Minghao smiles, cheeks rounding as he waves at the phone. The woman on screen grins back, leaning backwards so her hands are visible in the frame. She doesn't have to move too much — her belly is large, putting some distance between her and the phone propped up on her desk. In the blur of her waving arms Minghao sees a clunky, industrial-looking band strapped tight around her wrist, a bright red LED blinking at him stoically from its casing of metal and black plastic. He blinks back, momentarily stunned, and then the phone is passed down the line to Wonwoo and he's greeted by a new blank screen.
“Hyung, did you talk to that pregnant carat today?” Seungkwan asks when the fansign is over and they're waiting for the managers to bring the cars around. He's rubbing at his fingers, trying to get some of the ink marks off so he can take a selfie.
“Mhmm.” Minghao grunts in acknowledgement. “She’s seven months along.”
“Woah.” Seungkwan sneaks a glance. “Do you think…” He trails off. Tact is something Seungkwan has always prided himself on, though his curiosity is hardly one to go gently into that good night.
“Seungkwan-ah, it's bad luck to ask about a baby this close to the due date,” Jeonghan drawls from the right of Minghao. It doesn't sound true, but Minghao has no way of knowing for sure. He's never seen a woman this far along in a pregnancy through natural means. He doubts any of them have. A long time ago there had been a bump, he'd run his hands across it as his mother smiled down at him through tears, and then the flash of ambulance lights, and then his father, this time, crying, a pile of bills on the kitchen table, and Minghao had said, Ba, don't worry, and called the number of the entertainment company the next day and signed the contract and boarded the plane. Hope was a thing that money could buy, in this world, and even as a child Minghao had known that. What he hadn’t realized was that the damage had already been done, the price of two losses in a row much greater than even his eventual success could afford.
“And leave the marker stains. It's endearing.” Seungkwan gives Jeonghan a look, then brings his phone up to snap some finger heart selfies.
Later, Wonwoo finds Minghao in the kitchen eating a simple meal. It's dinnertime, but everyone else prefers to spend the short respite between schedules sleeping, or at least sprawled out on their beds staring at the ceiling, recovering whatever energy they can muster after three weeks of nonstop promotions. Wonwoo roots around in the fridge for a bit, then says, “my cousin got pregnant when I was young.”
“Oh.” Minghao puts his chopsticks down, not sure what to ask.
“No one thought she would make it. I mean, Changwon…” Wonwoo shakes his head. “The radiation and all. I was just a kid, so I didn't really understand why it was such a big deal. My parents helped, driving her to the tests, filling out paperwork. The government gave the whole family compensation.” He chuckles, a bit darkly. “I still remember all the good food we had that year.”
“What — what happened to her?”
Wonwoo takes a sip of his water. “She was determined to have the baby. It was hell on her body, but she wouldn't give up. She was really careful, did everything right, and in the end,” he tilts his head, “he came out perfectly healthy. No major complications or anything. What were the odds?” Wonwoo stretches his arms. “A natural-born baby is precious — they wouldn't use him for donations. The government paid them to move to Busan. We thought they were set for life. Just…”
He only hesitates for a moment, letting his arms fall to his sides. It's not like he's above being cruel, nor is any one of them too precious to hurt at this point, after all the years they've spent together. Besides, Wonwoo knows that sparing Minghao the truth for the sake of his feelings would be too obvious, with the way the other is watching him now; what's more, it would be taken as an even greater cruelty.
“Once they know you're capable of a natural pregnancy and birth — there are things they can get from your body that they can't from IVF, or from clones just yet. They monitor you closely, run tests, take blood, eggs, whatever. Maybe they make you try again, and again. You're basically a full-time lab subject.” Wonwoo puts the drink back in the fridge. “My cousin gave me some of the money she got for it all, so I could come to Seoul to be a trainee.”
Minghao nods. “She was fortunate, though, still. In a way. I mean, she had the child she always wanted.”
Down the hall, the members begin to stir, rubbing at their tired faces and swearing quietly when their palms come away smeared with carefully applied concealer and eyeshadow.
Wonwoo’s phone pings, a reminder for them to leave, and he dismisses the notification without looking. “Yeah. And she made it out.”