<div style="text-align: center">《 Sou-Yeon 》<br/>
<i>Location: Abendblume conference room<br/>
Addressing: Hale, Dr. Frazier, and anyone else who will listen</i>​</div><br/>Hale was a horrible, horrible man. Sou took back every quiet pledge she had made to do whatever it took to stay, including sucking him and anyone he pointed to off. If she got her lips around him, she swore she would<i>bite</i>it off! She hated him for doing this to her. She hated Hale, and Rebel, and every single person who had not upvoted her posts, or who had given her a speeding ticket (which was how she met Rebel), and not invited her to their birthday party in second grade, so she was left out of the loop on Monday morning when everyone else in class was talking about how cool the bounce-house had been and she had to eat her rice and kimchee in the cafeteria alone.<br/><br/>Again.<br/><br/>Fuck them all! She glared daggers at the old man, then crossed her arms over her chest and huffed, her nostrils flaring like a Spanish bull's. She had never wanted a pregnancy test to read positive so badly in all her twenty-seven years.<br/><br/>Mr. Frazier's appearance made her skin prickle and the nape of her neck shiver with fear. She looked at the cup, test, and wipe like they were spiders. Her heart was pounding so fast she almost forgot to breathe. Then she realized she was supposed to pee in the same room as everyone else, and her eyes widened at Hale as if she wanted to eat his face off, and not in a good way.<br/><br/>"I can't, I…I can't pee there," she gasped. She glared at the men in the room. They were all probably getting good material for their golden shower fetishes. Damned perverts!<br/><br/>She was so grateful her mother wasn't here to see her shame. This wasn't like when her mother scolded her for being a 'hand-phone whore.' No, that wasn't shame – that was making money and being<i>loved </i>by the public! This, however…this was shame. The kind where her mother would drop her voice an octave, sticking out her lower lip and looking at her like she was some kind of village leper.<br/><br/><i>'You so ug-ah-lee when you wear the lip stick and blue eye shad-dow. What you think you are? Some kind of Pam-ah-lah An-der-son whore? Some kind of 'me so horney' whore?' </i><br/><br/>Sou remembered seeing the condemnation in her mother's eyes. She felt the same anxiety that she had when her mother compared her to her sister, the one who would become a doctor or lawyer, or marry a doctor or lawyer, and Sou-Yeon was just a Pamela Anderson clone, stuffing tissues in her bra and trying to fit in with the Gilmore Girls on TV. Hell, she would have been happy to be London Tipton from 'Suite Life,' but even that was too much for her mom.<br/><br/>She set the cup on the ledge of the whiteboard, and waved the doctor away. "You can at least turn your back," she snapped. "You don't have to look at me when I'm trying to piss!" Edging her tights down, she was ever grateful for her experience peeing in squat toilets when they went back to the old country when she was a kid.<br/><br/>It was hard to get herself to pee. She had pee fright. She rolled her eyes, tried to think of running water, and finally started to sing softly under her breath. "Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb, Mary had a little lamb it's fleece was white as –" There it was. The small, inadequate stream finally flowed, and she closed her eyes and tried to push out as much as she could without (Buddha forbid!) farting by accident.<br/><br/>Finally, the stream ended, and she handed the mostly full cup back to Mr. Frazier. "Guess I had more than I thought," she apologized, wiping herself off before shimmying her pants up her hips and over her butt. Now there was nothing left to do but pray. Only she wasn't sure that anyone up there would recognize her voice. It had been ages since she had prayed. The last time was probably when she asked for a pair of ample bosoms and got acne instead.<br/><br/>Stupid gods.