6. Pain With A Smile

Lindsay finally chose vanilla cake as the base, and now it was time to pick the pastries that would be served to the guests. Staff members quickly arranged tables in front of us, placing plates filled with various kinds of pastries.

“Rose, I need your help. Come on, pick the best twenty!” Lindsay begged with a whining face.

“Twenty? So you want me to taste everything?!” I replied in disbelief.

“Hehe… then what else am I supposed to do?” she grinned helplessly.

“Just pick randomly! I can’t eat anymore!” I groaned. I never really liked pastries anyway, so I immediately surrendered.

“Oh? You say you can’t eat anymore? Interesting,” David whispered beside me. Mocking me again?! ugh. I didn’t turn. Didn’t react. My eyes stayed fixed on a chocolate croissant in front of me. “I’ve been thinking… you actually look slimmer. Are you dieting?” he continued. Still nothing from me. Arms folded. Eyes forward. “You look better when you’re thinner. Keep dieting.”

That was it. I snapped. I turned sharply toward him. Eyes sharp.

“I’m NOT dieting to get thin! I’m not eating... because I DON’T HAVE MONEY! Happy now?!” I snapped.

Silence. There it was. My anger management—gone. My *namaste mantra* shattered into pieces. David looked slightly startled. For once, he closed his mouth.

Good. Very good.

---

The meeting ended, and Lindsay eventually picked pastries based on appearance alone. She also seemed less willing to ask for my opinion after that. “We’ll have dinner first,” David said coldly as he drove at high speed.

Neither Lindsay nor I spoke. The car was filled with silence and our own thoughts. Eventually, he parked in front of a large restaurant. All-vegan. I followed Lindsay reluctantly inside. Was this… because of what I said earlier? David stepped inside and spoke sharply.

“Eat. I’m paying.” His tone wasn’t playful. It sounded… annoyed. I didn’t care. Maybe he had just broken up again with another high-class model who cheated on him with some old billionaire.

Lindsay once told me about it—Josephine, a famous model who betrayed him with an aging Italian nobleman. Maybe that’s why he turned into this walking disaster. And somehow… I became the target of his frustration. Why me?

---

Lindsay ordered food, and I copied her. While waiting, I ordered a cold lime drink. The first sip… refreshing. The second sip… even better. The third sip—

“Ugh—” A sharp pain stabbed my stomach like a knife. I gasped and clutched my abdomen. Lindsay and David immediately noticed.

“What’s wrong?” Lindsay asked, panic rising in her voice. David stayed silent, but his expression changed slightly.

“I don’t know… maybe stomach pain. PMS maybe?” I tried weakly.

“No,” Lindsay shook her head immediately. “PMS doesn’t hurt that bad. Something’s wrong. Dave, should we go to the hospital?”

David shrugged. Typical. But the pain was getting worse.

“I’m fine, Linds,” I forced a smile.

It hurt. So much.But I still smiled anyway. Because apparently, that’s what my life had become.

Pain… with a smile.

---

While waiting for food, Lindsay complained about her friends texting her about invitations. “They only know how to party! They don’t know how hard I’m working!” she groaned.

“Because you didn’t involve them,” I replied quietly. “They even asked me to tell you they’re willing to help. And you weren’t planning to invite them?”

“I will invite them, of course… I just… I’ve been sensitive lately,” she sighed, wiping her forehead.

I thought bitterly: *Yes. I agree. You’ve become as annoying as your brother.*

---

David stayed silent, scrolling on his phone. Meanwhile I talked about my painting. “I finally earned my own money,” I said with a small proud smile. “I almost gave up at the exhibition. If it hadn’t sold… I don’t know what I would eat next week.”

Lindsay looked at me sharply. "Why didn’t you tell me you had no money?! You don’t consider me your friend?!”

“I’m an adult,” I replied calmly. “I should be independent.” I may be poor… But I still have pride.

---

The food arrived. And suddenly… I wasn’t so confident anymore. I swallowed hard.

“…Can I even eat this?” I took one spoon.

Then— Pain exploded through my stomach again. Worse. Much worse. A soft groan escaped my lips before I could stop it.

Lindsay and David stood up immediately. “Rose!” Lindsay panicked.

David didn’t speak—but his eyes were sharp, focused.

And then— My body suddenly lifted. “What—wait… what?!” I blinked in shock. He was carrying me.

David. Actually carrying me. “…Am I heavy?” my mind screamed in disbelief. I looked up. His face was serious. Concerned. No teasing. No sarcasm. Just urgency. He walked fast toward the parking lot while Lindsay hurried behind us.

And the last thing I heard before everything faded—

“Straight to the hospital.”

Then—

Nothing.