Despair. Confusion. Despair. Weeping silently, Lilia was crouched on the floor of the bathroom, holding the results in her shaking hands. Blue meant positive. Blue meant pregnant. It was blue.

As she sat there, rocking back and forth in despair, she tried to repress the flood of thoughts that were hounding her. Memories, worries, thoughts swirled around her, dizzying and horrifying.

They never get over it, you think they do, but then you get hate mail, Beth's voice reminded her. You are my role model. I know you'd never do anything that would make me regret my choice of role model, twelve year old Shannon's words mocked her. I love you, Nick's voice sounded, joining the mass of memories swirling around inside.

Everything he'd worked for. Everything he'd ever wanted. He had it all. And with this, she could take it away from him. He loved her, that she was sure of, but was it enough? Enough to face this, when it could destroy his life, his image?

But there was an underlying fear. A rock hard ball of fear that she could not ignore. She remembered the day she asked about her father.

"Don't you worry about him, my little Lilia. He is a good-for-nothing person, who abandoned his responsibilities, his child and girlfriend, when things started to go wrong for him. He couldn't handle having to grow up, having to face the possibility that his girlfriend may die, leaving him a single father. He's worth nothing, so don't you even think about him. I doubt he thinks about you," her aunt's thoughtless words echoed in her head. He had left her, had never known his child. Stop that, Nick is nothing like him. He can't be, she insisted. But you never knew your father. How do you know this? another voice tried to reason with her.

Her world was falling apart. She was confused and scared. Unsure. All she had to cling to was the memory of her life spent without her father by her side, because he had been inconvenienced by her sudden appearance. It was unsettling.

* * * *

Backstage pandemonium. She stood on the outskirts of it, watching the technicians mill about, preparing for the concert, the Boys warming up, and the lucky fans hovering around in awe. She watched as a young girl approached Nick shyly, pen and paper in hand. He knelt down to the little girl's level and talked to her for a few minutes while he signed his autograph for her. The girl watched him in awe, through big blue eyes.

Looking around, he had everything anyone could want. He had accomplishment, achievement, adoration. He had fans on the other side of the stage waiting to see him sing, dance, perform for them. He had everything. Lilia thought back to the letters he had sent her, before she had joined him on tour. He had talked about his dreams for the future as a child, how all he ever wanted was to be heard by people, to have them want to hear him, to see him. He had achieved his dream.

And with a sinking feeling, she knew that she couldn't take it away from him. He wouldn't let her. She could never replace it, could never fill the place of what that little girl represented for him.

He stood up, looking around the room and caught her eye. She smiled weakly. He frowned, concerned. He walked over to her, and greeted her with a hug.

"You feeling okay, Lily?" he asked.

"Actually, not really. I think I'm going to go back to the hotel," she answered. He nodded.

"I'll see you after. Do you want me to get you a cab?" he asked.

"No, it's okay, I'll take care of it myself. Just go out on stage, and have fun," she said. He kissed her cheek, and turned to walk away, when he stopped and turned around.

"I almost forgot. Here," he said, handing her a slightly squished lily. She smiled, blinking back a fresh onslaught of tears, trying to hide them. Luckily, it was dark and he didn't notice.

"Thank you. I'll see you. And Nick?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you," she said, clutching the little flower.

"I love you, too," he said, and kissed her again, before racing off to join the guys in the finishing their warm ups.

* * * *

Her decision had been made for her. She made a few calls, made her arrangements in a matter of minutes, and grabbed her bag. She slipped a note under Paul's door, knowing that he'd find it when he returned.

She was about to leave the room, when she looked around it one more time. It was like so many others that they had stayed in together. Same wall paper, furnishings, set up. It represented so much, a whole life. And she was leaving it all behind.

She resolved to be strong. She pulled the door shut, and made her way down to the lobby. Leaving her key with the receptionist, she grabbed a taxi and made it to the airport safely. She was a stone. She showed no emotion, remained reserved and unattached.

* * * *

As soon as he opened the door, he knew that something was wrong. Something was missing. She was supposed to be there, but the room was dark, cold and empty. Frowning slightly, he searched the room quickly for her, but she wasn't there. For a few minutes, he had figured that she might have gone out, but then he realised that none of her stuff was there. Then he noticed the table.

There was a note, and a small tape recorder, the kind that reporters used to record people saying things that they shouldn't be. His heart stopped as he picked up the small piece of paper and read it.

Nick,

I'm sorry to do it this way, but I couldn't face you. Things aren't working out, and I felt the need to get out now, to save the trouble later. I'm sorry, but it's over. I'm going back home. Please, don't call or anything. Just realise that this is what I want, and forgive me one day.

Lilia

She was gone. She had left him. His light, his love. The woman that had occupied his every thought ever since he had met her, and she was leaving him. She wasn't saying why, but she was sorry? His world falling apart, he absently picked up the tape recorder, and pressed play.

Just once, just for you. One day, I wouldn't be so decidedly against it. Just for you, her voice said. He nearly broke down in grief as her clear, beautiful voice sang to him.

Some say love, it is a river
That drowns the tender reed
Some say love, it is a razor
That leaves the soul to bleed
Some say love, it is a hunger
An endless aching need
I say love, it is a flower
And you, it's only seed

It's the heart afraid of breaking
that never learns to dance.
It's the dream afraid of waking
that never takes the chance.
It's the one who won't be taken,
who cannot seem to give,
and the soul afraid of dyin'
that never learns to live.

When the night has been too lonely
and the road has been too long,
and you think that love is only
for the lucky and the strong,
just remember in the winter
far beneath the winter snows
lies the seed that with the sun's love
in the spring becomes the rose.

* * * *

She closed her eyes as the plane took off. She had stayed strong until now. But she could no longer. She was leaving her heart behind. But it was for him, that she told herself again and again. She remained strong until they were well above the ground, on her way back home. Then she caught sight of the small little flower that he was so fond of giving her, and her pain, which she had been able to contain, broke loose, and she broke down and cried.