Selena

'Selena, honey, I might be away for over a month now', Michael updated me over the phone. 

More than seven months pregnant, I was desperately encouraged by all the men in my life to take maternity leave.

In my grand sized living room with my VR goggles on, I stood playing virtual-reality shooting games.

*RING-RING* went the aggressive doorbell.

'Hey', it was Sergio with a groceries bag in his hand, 'thought you'd be a bit more excited to see me'.

'You're late'.

More than often, he invited himself into Michael's new home. The grocery bag had all the regular snacks I craved, and protein I was advised to take for the baby. I grabbed a carton of milkshake and consumed it as fast as possible.

'I... hope you've been taking it easy', he begun. I kept drinking until I'd finished the carton. Then wiped my mouth.

'Don't really have a choice – you cut my work hours in half', I moaned. Throwing the old carton to the ground, I dived through the bag to open a new one. 'How are you dealing with Julian?'

'Not bad', Sergio replied, 'in fact I put him in charge of public relations, and he's actually restoring our relationship with the people, media, government'.

'Mmmmh', I started on the new carton.

'I don't know what methods you used to... maybe I don't want to know, but –'

'Hey –' I paused, burped, then relaxed on the milk, 'you told me to get my shit together and handle it... chief'.

'Mmmn', he grinned.

'Ooh', I jolted back, feeling strange vibrations in my stomach, 'what's happening – what's this?!' Instinctively, Sergio placed his palm over my belly.

'I think it's the baby kicking. It's normal'.

'Well I don't like it. Feels weird. What pills do I take to make it stop?' I asked. Sergio laughed at me. 'Was it the milkshake?'

'No...' circulating his palm on my belly, he leaned in and kissed me.

'H-hey', I panted, trying to discourage our fantasy romance, 'wait!'

'What?'

'Maria?' I fluttered. As if I'd touched a nerve, his face squeezed up, 'I-I wanted to talk to you about – she's the reason'.

'The reason?'

'She's the reason you didn't want me to give this child up'. In denial, he just kept shaking his head, 'the woman you were trying to tell me about at the clinic'.

'No!' Sergio grew very angry, very quickly, 'who told you? Michael?'

'I-I – he's told me a lot about your past, and it's made me understand'.

'Understand what? Don't believe him. It's some bullshit'.

'Do you even know what he said? It all started at law school...'

College Party (The past)

'I'm shocked you didn't invite a plus-one', Michael teased, upright, nervous in the elevator as the floors went by.

'But I'll probably leave with a plus-one', Sergio scoffed back, leaning against the elevator wall, relaxed in contrast.

Sky Terrance. Lots of noise. Bodies moving everywhere. Maria, being Michael's first date, appeared an hour after he arrived with Sergio. Every iconic face was there, including the hosts, Sniper and Priscilla.

'You look beautiful', Michael complimented Maria, kissing her hand. Courteous, vintage, and respectful, Michael had always been the gentlemen. 'Can I get you a drink?'

Maria, a 19-year-old Mexican employee for the college wasn't familiar with prestigious, high-class events. From a broken family, she migrated to Bluebridge, and needed to work for a green card.

Often, Michael noticed Maria and Sergio exchanging looks, but thought nothing of it.

'Hey guys, look. It's our canteen staff', Priscilla remarked, pointing Maria out to make her the center of attention. Jokingly, the uppity party group cheered, without realising how derogatory they were.

Being that she was known in the college mostly as immigrant or the canteen worker, she was convenient to manipulate. She basked in the vicinity of what she most desired. Money.

As patient as Michael was, he had a hard time trying to understand her. Not only was she uncomfortable, but her English wasn't good. When she suddenly went missing, Michael tried to find her. Roaming the corridors, opening class doors, peering in the toilets.

'Sergio!' Michael gasped, catching Sergio and Priscilla making out behind the open toilet door he pushed. Both of them were drunk, laughing when he caught them.

'Don't tell Will, please?' Priscilla squealed like a poodle. Keeping his composure, Michael inhaled.

'I-I don't care about that. Anyway, have you seen Maria?'

'No. Sorry', Sergio shrugged.

'The Mexican girl?' Priscilla asked, 'she went home because she wasn't feeling well'.

Days later, Maria was back at work.

'Why didn't you tell me earlier?' Michael asked, disappointed at the situation. More embarrassing than disappearing at the party, she was facing a potential eviction no-one could know about.

At Maria's flat, Michael sat upright on her peachy couch. Maria, wearing an oversized grey t-shirt and shorts served him a beer.

'Michael, you're too kind. You... shouldn't have'.

'It's the least I could do', Michael replied, handing her a folded receipt. 12 months of rent. Paid. Just like that. All it took was one kiss for Michael to notice... the cologne. Maria's grey t-shirt... smelled like himself. 'Hang on...'

'What?' Maria smiled, but too quickly the string of mysterious evidence was beginning to unravel.

'Is that... my t-shirt?' he asked her. Maria froze, mystified. Speechless, she glanced down at the shirt. 'Who gave that to you?'

'Michael, I...'

Of course. The only other person who had unrestricted access to Michael's wardrobe.

'Sergio... has he been here?' Michael pressed on. Reluctantly, Maria nodded. It made sense. Being bilingual, meant that he was one of the few boys that could communicate to her in Spanish. 'He gave you... my shirt?'

'It's fine. I can give it back to you, here –' Maria began taking of the t-shirt she wore.

'No-no!' Michael stopped her, 'you can keep it – on'. Wearing the t-shirt... was Maria's only mistake.

That night, Michael went home, trying to restrain his tears, repressing the weight of his broken heart.

Frightened of what he would do next, the hand with his key tremored. But he proceeded to enter his apartment.

Michael found Sergio and a group of students playing games in the living room. Alcohol. Takeaway. Mess. Priscilla was among them, painting her nails shellac pink. As soon as they spotted Michael, they cheered mockingly.

'Okay, party over!' Michael asserted, keeping his composure. Reluctantly, the frowny flock exited his apartment.

'Come on, Mike', Sergio nagged, 'you've got to socialise more'.

'YOU!' with a forceful conviction, Michael pointed at him, 'pack a bag! Get out'.

'What?' Sergio chuckled, 'are you serious?' Without a flinch, Michael had begun the process of emptying out all the drawers of Sergio's stuff and throwing it outside his apartment. 'Hey! Come on, where will I stay?'

'I don't know – maybe Maria's?' Michael was salty. His tone became dark. Sergio went silent, then left.

Weeks went by where they never talked. No outdoor sports together, no movie nights out, no more travelling together. But Sergio's act couldn't last long because of one thing... money.

'Mike! Open up!' Sergio banged Michael's door, 'let me in – and stop being such an asshole! I know you've been avoiding me'.

'Get lost', Michael seethed, behind the closed door. Sergio persisted.

'Okay Mike, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!' he wailed the building down, 'please... please just let me in', sliding to his knees in front of Michael's door, he sobbed desperately, 'I have nowhere else to go, man'.

Hours went by. Michael hadn't opened the door... until he heard snoring. By Midnight, Sergio dozed off on Michael's doorstep. Then, he opened, allowing Sergio's head to fall to the ground.

'Hey man, wake up', Michael shook him up from his nightmare. Next to him was a duffle bag filled with his living equipment and alcohol bottles. Cheeks red, with a black eye and dried tears on his face, made it obvious he'd been fighting. 'Come on, you can't stay here'.

'Michael', he blurted, just before tilting over, and throwing up in the corner of Michael's doorway. Michael squirmed, yanking Sergio into the apartment and shutting the door.

Helplessly, with vomit surrounding his mouth, Sergio began sobbing again.

'I'm not even going to ask'.

'That time... at the party, when Maria left because she was feeling ill, she found out the next day that she was pregnant'.

'What?! You got –' Michael lowered his voice, 'you got her pregnant?!'

'Mike, she –', Sergio hiccupped, 'she aborted it'.

'Huh?' Michael began walking around in circles, panicking, 'how is she now?'

'I don't know! She's not home – she's been missing for days! She won't pick up the phone'.

'This is bad!'

'You know what she told me?' Sergio blurted, 'if it were you – who got her pregnant – she wouldn't have aborted it'.