Author's Note: I have decided to change this to a three shot! I came up with an idea for the third chapter and I thought about making it into a separate one shot, but it works well with the story and fits as an ending! :D It's already half-written anyhow, so that will be up soon. Thanks for all the fantastic reviews, it's so cliche but it really does make me want to write more and faster.

REACH FOR ME

Bathing, beauty

Ballad of bliss, you are born

Tell me you love me, tell me you see me

At 9PM the phone rang and Shelby trudged from the couch to the kitchen to pick it up. She answered it lazily, then realized there was a possibility, more like a miracle, that she'd gotten a callback. And ever so professionally, she greeted, "Hello, Shelby Corcoran speaking."

"Hey, baby. How are you doing?"

Shelby's face sank. Taking a moment's pause, she exhaled. "Hi, mom, look, I'm busy right now, could I call you back some other time?" she lied.

"You don't have ten minutes to tell me what it's like in New York City? I haven't seen you for almost a year. You haven't come for the holidays, everyone was wondering where you were, I told them you were off becoming a star? You get that job you were wanting? And what am I supposed to do with all your presents? Giving me your mailing address. If you don't have time to talk to me, maybe we're going to have to start sending letters to accommodate your new lifestyle, huh?"

She let out a soft chuckle, not really able to listen to her mother's rant, but enjoying the familiarity of it. The euphoria of the city had worn out as quickly as it came in, and now she was longing for something that made her feel comfortable. Something that made her feel safe. Her mother could provide that, but she couldn't stand talking to her. For the simple reason that she had no idea what her daughter had done. And Shelby had no intention of telling her. "Yeah, here, I'll give you my address, but then I have to go. I promise I'll call."

She knew she wouldn't keep that promise, but she couldn't allow herself to feel any guilt about it or the feeling would spread, and she simply didn't have the strength for that. Instead, she hung up the phone, and plopped back down on the couch, returning to the ice cream she had on hand and turned the TV volume back up.

There was a sense of numbness about her. She was watching the television, but she wasn't really watching. And there wasn't anything really going on in her head either. It was a whole lot of white noise as she stared blankly, bringing the spoon of vanilla up to her mouth every now and again, licking the inset of the spoon slowly. Shaking herself out of it, she turned her head back to the phone, eyes carefully trained on it for a moment.

Abruptly, she stood up, placing the tub of ice cream on the couch and rushed to the phone. She dialled a number she'd memorized, a number that had been ingrained into her mind for nine months, and put the phone to her ear, twisting the cord along her finger.

The ringing was torturous; with each ring that came, she coiled the plastic wiring tighter around her hand.

"Hello?" came a voice, the man on the other end sounded pleasant, cheerful even.

Shelby opened her mouth for a moment, and the words seemed to get stuck in her throat.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

She clasped her hand over her mouth, trying to compose herself, but she could hear noises in the background. There was an increasing louder screaming sound coming through. Her ears locked onto it, and her entire body froze. After a few more seconds, she heard a click and the sound disappeared. She'd had no idea what she was doing, or thinking. She ran a hand through her curled dark hair, nerve-wracked, and breathed deeply.


Another waiting room, this had to be the worst part of her day. Not that waking up didn't seem hard enough, but having to sit in some over-sterilized room just to go visit someone who would poke and prod her with needles somehow seemed worse.

"Hi, there."

Shelby looked up from the stale magazine she had been reading. Didn't they have anything better than a two month old copy of Reader's Digest? Say Vogue or at least Cosmopolitan? She'd expected the damn healthcare companies would have enough money for at least that. But she hadn't been expecting anyone to talk to her. "Uhm, hi," she responded warily, turning her head towards the man sitting beside her. She hadn't even noticed he was there, her mind too far off into the clouds.

He chuckled lightly. "Sorry, it's just, you look so familiar. Do I know you?"

"I don't think so," she responded with a quirked eyebrow.

"Ah, you're probably right. I don't know how I'd be able to forget a pretty face like yours," he said with a smirk.

A few moments of silence passed as Shelby looked at him, the expression on her face unreadable. "... are you hitting on me? In the doctor's office?"

"What can I say? You caught my eye."

Unable to contain herself, she let out a snort and brought her hand up to her mouth to cover rough giggles.

"Why are you laughing? You should feel complimented," he said, clearly offended by her reaction. She hadn't realized before, but he wasn't exactly terrible looking.

"Oh, I'm complimented alright," she answered, chuckles still escaping her lips every few seconds. "What if I was here for, oh, I don't know, an STD or something?"

"What? ... are you?" he asked tentatively, suddenly horrified. It was the 90s after all, the AIDS pandemic was barely coming down from its peak, the paranoia didn't surprise her.

Instead of answering, she dramatically turned her attention back to her magazine, leaving him there to wonder. He was clearly not expecting this reaction from any woman, so he stood up, gave her a double take before scooting over to the other end of the waiting room.

Shelby was bemused with herself, though, she wasn't sure why. In fact, that little conversation had brought her into a better mood. It wasn't that she had been hit on, though that was also good for self esteem, it was just the humour of the thing. As her name was called, Shelby made her way down the hall, a small smile on her face.

This wasn't an exam she enjoyed in the least, but post-pregnancy exams were supposedly obligatory. She pulled off the awfully revealing gown, back into her own clothes and sat in the chair, waiting for the doctor's report. She didn't particularly like this office, it was different from the Lima clinic she'd gone to for years. And while both were equally unpleasant, this one was unfamiliar and that somehow made it that much more uncomfortable.

"So, Shelby, good that you're sitting down," said the doctor, entering through the door with a file in her hands and sat in her much comfier chair.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, suddenly wary, her posture straightening in her chair.

"It's not much to worry about, but we're going to have to schedule you for surgery."

"We have to what?" she exclaimed, jumping the gun.

"There have been some complications," she explained.

"Oh my God, am I going to die?" Shelby eyes were wide, eyebrows crinkled with fear and worry. It was so like her to become worked up without knowing the full details. Melodramatically, she started to breathe heavily, "I don't wanna die," she said, her voice a whisper.

The unsuspecting doctor chuckled, unsure of what to do. "You are not going to die. It's not a big surgery, there are some risks, but it's not life-threatening."

"Are you sure? Because I'm an actress trying to make it. Will I be able to work after the surgery? I need to find work. Will there be scars? Stretch marks are bad enough, I can't look like Freddy Krueger if I want to be an actress. You have to understand how pertinent this is!" Shelby implored, going off on her tangent. It was what she did when she was stressed out, rant about it to someone who probably didn't care.

"Just stay calm. It's going to be okay. We'll plan the surgery at the end of the week, or whenever you can get someone to stay with you. It'll be fine."

A few moments of silence passed, Shelby stared down in her lap, thinking. She was overreacting probably, it wasn't as though she'd been diagnosed with cancer.

"Okay, you're good now? I wasn't finished," said the doctor carefully, trying to be as soothing as possible. Shelby looked up, a little bit of terror in her eyes. "We'll have to perform a hysterectomy."

"I-I don't know what that is."

The hesitation upon the woman's lips made Shelby brace herself, her right hand clutching tightly onto the arm of the chair, her nails digging into the fabric of it. "You won't be able to have anymore children, I'm so sorry."


Shelby had a way of being both rash and yet, immaculately organized. It was her passion and need for perfection combined that made her a force to be reckoned with; but it also made her very difficult to handle. And because of that, she never truly could figure herself out. She would think she wanted something, and change her mind only moments later. The realist and the idealist within her always having a struggle.

The news she had just been dealt was horrifying. She stumbled out onto the street, the autumn wind hitting her full force, as she stood blankly, her scarf flying off to the side within the air. She looked up to the city skyline and could feel a surge of tears appear within her eyes, and she let out a gasp. This year was not going well for her.

But she was struggling with herself now, as she started to walk, blindly passing the masses of people that inhabited the streets. She didn't planned on being a mother, not anytime soon, it was all about the dream, everything was about the dream. But she could remember that feeling that haunted her, the sensation of love she could not rid from herself. She could remember her unnamed little girl, and she knew she wanted that. Someday, she had wanted a daughter that she could raise and care and love. And now it would never happen.

Her steps took her down the Canal Street subway station, standing on the platform, that blank stare omnipresent within her eyes. As the train came, she entered the sliding doors and sat down, her head leaning back against the advertisement behind her.

The train ride was long and torturous. Why she seemed to live so far away escaped her. Each stop, people came in and out through the doors; they were completely inconsequential to her and she to them. She wished she had brought her Walkman along, any music would have done her some good.

Instead, her ears perked up at the sound of cooing. Across the train car and a few seats down, a woman sat with a baby in her arms, blowing raspberries into the child's neck then planting little kisses up her neck to her ear. The baby, dressed in all pink, so typical, giggled at each noise. Shelby watched with intrigue, her eyelids starting to shake as she watched something she had had the possibility of doing at that very moment but gave away. She leaned her body against the standing pole beside her, and began to sob.

Author's Note: Angsty, right? Yeah, I just feel like her past needs to have some justice done. I hope to have the next and last chapter up soon! If anyone has any suggestions or questions or something they'd like to see me put in, I'd be glad to oblige! Please review, let me know how I'm doing with this, I'll never know if I need to improve unless you tell me!