Page 1 of Fallen Starboy

ARISTA

People like me were never meant to have our cake and eat it, too. Especially not when that cake was a happily ever after with a fucking superstar idol, of all things. Kim fucking Seo-Jun, to be specific.

Our futures were vastly different in terms of potential. We were on opposite ends of the potential spectrum.

Or, in our case, the social class spectrum.

I clutched the bundled-up baby in the basket closer to my body and fought back the tears just a little longer. Whatever the future held, I knew this was the only choice I could make to keep her safe. To give her the best chance at a future as I could.

Jun had his whole life ahead of him. He didn’t need me. And his company seemed determined to make sure I knew it. The money they threw at me to solve the ‘problem’, as they dubbed my situation, was no small number. It was enough to support myself for ten years, maybe more, without lifting a finger.

Their reasoning was solid, too.

He’s worth twenty times that in his first two years. In five, imagine the life he could have.

A life where I didn’t fit.

I could leave, sure, but they were determined to not leave behind any evidence of our indiscretion, and that included the one currently sleeping in my arms, unaware of anything going on around her.

Our child.

The one his record label tried to erase.

The only mark on his perfect record.

Of course, eliminating such a blemish wasn’t as easy as washing a ketchup stain out of a shirt, or replacing a broken toy.

A child was forever. And once that child was born, there was no going back.

There would always be evidence of his imperfection out there in the world, sharing his DNA, one press leak away from ruining the image of their cash cow.

I thought I could just leave, that abandoning him without a word was the right thing to do. But after one too many nights spent sitting around the fire, staring into flames that didn’t hold the answers I so desperately sought in their flickering shapes and colors, I realized I had been stupid.

I couldn’t give her the life she deserved. I could never replace the life she would have had with him.

I could never love someone else like I loved Kim Seo-Jun. And I could never be the mother she deserved.

Sneaking away to have the baby in secret was hard.

I went through the whole thing with no support system since telling my family, or his, was out of the question.

When I was due to go into labor, a freak accident involving a car whose brakes were cut clean in half almost caused us both to die before we’d met.

And now, after staring into her face that reminded me so much of him, brushing my nose over her soft head, the faint red peach fuzz giving me hope that she’d gotten something good from me after all, after doing all the things a new mother should do with her baby, I was doing the unthinkable.

I had to let her go. Just like I had to let him go.

It was best for both of them.

The Label might be able to bury me and our plans of marriage, but it would be impossible to bury his child once he knew of her existence. Once he held her in his arms, I knew he’d do everything within his power to keep her safe. He had money, reach, power?—

And I had nothing but a broken dream, and my body weight in regrets.

“You’ll be okay,” I whispered to the sleeping baby wrapped in a soft, pink blanket, tucked into a basket like some fucking period drama orphan, tiny hands fisted against her rosy cheeks as she slept peacefully. “He’ll make sure of it.”

Your father will give you everything I couldn’t even begin to hope of ever giving you.

This is for the best.

The only person getting hurt here was me, and that was okay.

I could handle that pain, could handle his hatred when he realized what I’d done.

I could even handle it if he made an announcement and denounced me for leaving her on his doorstep.

I could even handle it if he hated me for the rest of our lives.

What I couldn’t handle, though, was the thought of our daughter not living a good life.

And aside from some memories and a smile that would haunt me for the rest of my life, there was nothing here for me now.

The agency blacklisted me in the industry thanks to my pregnancy indiscretion involving one of their artists. Had I just shacked up with the makeup artist and gotten pregnant, it wouldn’t have been an issue. Now, I was a liability, and I could understand that.

I couldn’t let her suffer in life because of me.

She deserved the best. And this was the only way she’d ever get it.

With a sob that tore my heart in two, I kissed her soft forehead, covered her up with the blanket, and laid her basket on the stoop. I pulled a letter I’d prepared out of my coat pocket and tucked it in beside her, already hating myself for what I was about to do.

But I couldn’t let them have her.

Once Jun claimed her as his own, they wouldn’t dare touch her.

Right?

This had to keep her safe.

It had to. I could suffer all the pain, as long as it was for her.

My hand shook as I reached for the doorbell I’d rang so many times before when I snuck into their dorms after curfew to hang out with Jun and the others.

The tone sounded hollow as I quickly snuck around the corner and hid behind a garbage bin, watching from just far enough away to make sure someone answered and took her in.

When the door opened, bathing her in the light from inside, the tears started to fall, even as I reassured myself I’d done the right thing. It was Minseo who answered, his face scrunched up in concern as he found the basket on the step and leaned down to pick it up.

I couldn’t linger any longer. It would increase the risk of being discovered. But I had to know they accepted her. I had to see her off safely. I would accept the risk to myself, as long as I could have this last moment in time to comfort me for the rest of my life.

“Hey,” a voice shouted from inside the dorms, “what’s up, Minseo? Did the delivery order show up yet?”

I watched as Jun appeared in the doorway behind Minseo, who’d sat down on the steps now, his hands hovering on the handle of the basket. His eyes found his bandmate, and then the basket, and as he fell to his knees, I realized I hadn’t stopped to think about how this would hurt him.

Would he want her after all this time?

Or would the sins of the mother be a stain on her future with him? Would he be unable to look at her without thinking of me? Would he take that out on her?

“Is that . . . ?”

Minseo nodded, lifting her from the basket, the letter fluttering to the ground as he dislodged it. “Looks like a baby to me, bro.”

Jun stared at her for a moment, then knelt to pick up the letter I’d written for him. The only thing he’d need to know once I’d disappeared into the dark night, and from his life, forever.

Keep her safe. Love her every day. Give her everything I never could.

Let her be your new Forever Star.

I’m sorry.

The three lines were enough, but guilt had me adding the rest. I wanted him to be sure she was his, that this wasn’t a joke. I needed him to understand how important she was.

For a moment, the world stopped as his eyes scanned the page in his hands. Then, ever so slowly, he looked at that baby in his buddy’s arms, then scanned the area around their door, as if he’d see me if he looked hard enough.

“Arista?” When I didn’t reply, he shouted louder. “Arista! I know you’re out there. Don’t be a coward!”

The loud noise woke the baby, who immediately started to kick and fuss, drawing his attention. I felt the heaviness in my chest as my body responded to her by instinct, wanting to soothe her as only a mother could.

He’ll be your mother and your father now. He’ll make sure you’re taken care of.

Jun would be a good dad. When he reached down and took her from Minseo’s arms, it only reinforced the knowledge. He held her like a little doll made of porcelain, like she was a treasure and he was afraid to break her.

“She’s in your hands now,” I whispered to him, wiping away the last of my tears as they disappeared into the house, closing the door behind them, the basket abandoned on the porch, along with any hope I had of ever loving anyone again. “Be good to her, Jun.”

And so began my new life as I prepared the story I’d tell my parents when I returned home, nursing a hole the size of the moon in my heart, and lacking the recommendation I’d hoped to gain from my time in the industry.

Time would heal all wounds. But the scars remained forever.