Thanks, guys, I'm glad you let me know you still care about the story, it means so much. TWO DAYS UNTIL HAIRSPRAY! YAY! Enjoy!!

Now I've looked in the mirror

And the world's getting clearer
I'll take what you give me

Please know that I'm learning
So wait for me this time

"Time"- Chantal Kreviazuk

Though nights seemed to drag on without Corny around, days began to pass quickly. Soon, it was a week after the fight, then two. Amber had grown solemnly accustomed to being alone. She spent her days at the studio, often working until late evening, and until there was a cramp in her lower back. She had begun to neglect her body and often went all day without eating, never realizing the long term effects it could have on her, or the fetus inside of her.

Her stomach was larger now; it had grown quickly over the past few weeks, as had her resentment. Her resentment for that thing inside of her; for Corny, for Sophie, for Link. For all of them, making her so miserable; for herself, for letting herself care so damn much about all of them. The thought of not loving this fetus inside of her scared her. What if she never learned to love it? What if, when it was born, instead of getting that expected surge of love, she felt nothing? What if, every time she looked at it, she only saw Corny, and all the resentment there, and she hated it for that? There were so many fears running rampant through her mind, and for the first time in a long time, Corny wasn't there to calm them. He couldn't hold her hand, or stroke her hair. He couldn't assure her that everything would be fine. And deep in her heart, she knew it wouldn't.

Months ago, she hadn't been able to wait for this day; today. She hadn't been able to contain herself at the thought of Corny returning to the show, his back healed and nearly as good as new. Now, of course, she was dreading it. She had been since she'd slipped that ring off her finger and into Corny's palm. She was absolutely terrified of being in the same building as him, much less the same confined studio space.

Besides being upset about their fight and broken engagement, she was mad. Furious, actually. She couldn't believe that Corny hadn't cared enough to even try and get her back. Couldn't believe that he hadn't called, or shown up on her doorstep; hadn't tried to get in contact with her at all, not even for the sake of the baby. Though, God knew, she wasn't doing much of anything for the sake of the baby, so how could she blame him for the same thing?

She managed to keep her eyes averted from him as she sensed him in the studio, and though her cheeks were blushing furiously with all of the pent-up emotion inside of her, she refused to let it show. She refused to even speak civilly to him because there was no point in it; once she so much as saw him, she would lose it; her cool, her temper, the shaky confidence she was attempting to build. It would all be for naught.

Although Corny had been scheduled to return today, Link was still the host, at least for the moment. Corny was more of a simple stage presence at the time, perched behind his podium, drumming out the rhythm to the music as Link moved with the council members. The crew and cast were just now beginning to learn of the turbulence between Amber and Corny, and many of them still approached her with the expectant 'Are you happy Corny is back?', to which she could merely utter a reply that she hoped they would not question.

She kept busy during the day, even though she knew he was in close proximity of her, she refused to let herself seek him out. She didn't want to see him, because she knew that now that he had this, his precious show, back, he didn't want anything else. That's what all of their problems had been about, she told herself, that when he'd been taken out of control, he'd gone stir-crazy and had nothing better to do than fight with her. When the show began, she observed from the edge of the dance floor, as always, but made sure to keep her eyes glued on the council members. She'd even thought about watching Link, if only to spite Corny, whose eyes she was sure would meet her own eventually, but decided against it. The very last thing she needed in her life right now was more drama, or to lead Link on in believing that she felt any certain way about him.

He'd tried to talk to her since that day he'd bolted from her apartment, leaving her to deal with Corny's wrath alone, but she hadn't been exactly sure how to respond to him. He claimed that he only wanted the best for her, and though part of her believed him, she couldn't help but hate him just a little because, before he had come along, she'd had the best. She'd had a fiancé, and a home, and a family. She'd had more than ever before in her life, and now, she had nothing.

By the time the show finished taping, Amber felt slightly relieved. She'd officially gotten through the first day of Corny's return, and that meant things could only get easier from here on out, didn't it? The council members scattered, and the crew began to chatter nonchalantly as the cameras rolled back into place until the next afternoon. Amber felt her stomach growl, and was sure that anyone in a close proximity could hear it. She glanced toward the snack table, her eyes raking over the piles of food that rested on glass platters. Donuts, sandwiches, potato chips. It was all junk, and junk that she had, for the first year she'd worked here, happily taken part in. Now, however, there didn't seem to be much of a point. Her stomach was big enough, and she had no desire to eat. She wasn't hungry, even if her stomach said she was.

It may have been stupid, but this stand she was taking against food, it was because of Corny. Because she had such an intense desire to show him that she knew how to care for herself and didn't need him in her life, she had all but stopped eating. Especially now, and in front of him. She wanted him to wonder about her, and if the only way to do that was to deprive herself of a few essential nutrients, she was more than willing to comply.

It was odd, watching him unbutton his suit jacket and loosen his tie, knowing that he was going to be leaving without her. Knowing that he wouldn't give her a quick kiss before telling her that he and Sophie would meet her at home later, or ask her what she felt like having for dinner. No, he would pick Sophie up alone, and they would probably heat up TV dinners and chat casually on the couch. Meanwhile, she'd go home, eat half a bag of stale popcorn and fall asleep over a pile of her take-home work, still wearing her clothes. But she could pretend that tonight she had a fabulous date; maybe with Link. She would pretend that she needed to hurry home so that she could pull on a silk gown and go out for a night on the town. She refused to let him see that her world had already crashed down around her.

She turned away from the concession table just as she felt him behind her. It was difficult to explain, but she'd known him and had been so intimately close to him for so long that she could sense him without ever seeing him. Then, of course, she smelled him; that deep, heavenly scent of his cologne filled her nostrils, and she felt her knees beginning to tremble. Part of her wanted to grab him, to ask him to please forgive her for all of the idiotic mistakes she'd made, and she had almost convinced herself to do it, but when she turned and met his hard eyes, it was suddenly obvious that he wasn't interested in any such thing from her.

"Corny." She held her chin high, looking him in the eyes and clutching her clipboard. Her mind searched for aimless compliments. Great show, good to see you back. It's nice to see you walking again. None of them made sense, or were even completely true. She decided not to say anything at all.

"Are you eating?" It wasn't a kind, sympathetic tone in his voice, but harsh and sharp as he eyed the food table over her shoulder.

She kept eye contact with him.

"I don't quite see what business it is of yours anymore." She pretended to be indignant while secretly thriving on the fact that he was actually here, speaking to her, asking her about herself.

His eyes narrowed into angry slits at once, flashing dark.

"Damnit, Amber." He turned to go, and then looked back at her. "All I know is that baby better not be suffering because of its neglectful mother. Now that I'm not around to keep an eye on you, you're probably starving yourself on purpose, aren't you?"

Yes. "No," she answered him, feeling a sudden pressure on her chest, "I'm not a child, Corny. I don't need to be supervised."

"Well, you know what? I think that right now even Sophie is acting a hell of a lot more like an adult than you are, Amber." He glared at her, shaking his head before walking away. "You're so clueless. Let me know when you get your damn priorities in order."

She couldn't get him out of her mind for the rest of the day. The way his cheeks flushed, and his deep blue eyes regarded her so harshly, as if they'd never shared anything more than a professional relationship. As if he hadn't seen her naked body with those very eyes too many times to count, or traced his fingertips down the soft curves of her skin. As if he hadn't heard her make almost animalistic sounds when they made love, hadn't made her toes curl, or her back arch. As if he'd never even loved her at all.

It was no surprise that she found herself in the grocery store that same evening, staring at a produce display (with no intention of buying any of it) and seeing nothing but Corny. For the first time since their break-up, she genuinely missed him, with no selfish motivation. She just wanted to be able to touch him again, and have him know that she did love him, no matter what she had said or done to convince him otherwise.

It was a surprise, however, when she turned from the display and found herself facing the blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman she'd spent the majority of her life attempting to avoid. It had been years since she'd seen her, and part of Amber was glad that time had been well to her mother. That could only mean good things for her own future.

"Mother," the word was a gasp, and Amber wasn't even completely sure she was the one who had said it. She felt breathless suddenly, and stammered. "Oh-oh my God."

Velma's cerulean eyes raked over her, appraising her with an arched golden brow.

"Well. It's certainly been an ample amount of time, hasn't it?" Velma said the words, her voice dripping with what Amber could only assume was pure disdain. "Six years isn't enough time to separate yourself from all of this?"

Amber swallowed, still slightly speechless at the sight of her mother.

"I can't…" She paused, "I came back to Baltimore after college." It wasn't her fault that she hadn't bothered to try and find her. Baltimore had grown immensely in the last few years, and was no longer the city it had been when Amber was in high school.

"Oh, yes," Velma tapped a manicured nail against her pink lips, "The college that you used your trust fund to pay for." She didn't give Amber a chance to speak. "I hear that you have taken over as station manager."

Amber nodded, the roots of defensiveness creeping into her voice suddenly.

"A little over two years now."

"And how has that been going for you?" Velma smirked, "I'm assuming you used your Von Tussle charm to achieve that position." There was heavy emphasis on the last word, and Amber furrowed her eyebrows, her fingers curling around the handle of her shopping basket.

"I didn't sleep my way to the top, if that's what you mean." She felt her lips curling into a sneer, "I went to college for a reason, Mother."

"And what reason is that?" Velma's voice had dropped, but she spoke at such a level that could convince anyone she was making no real effort on her part. "You had no real interest in that position. I'm willing to bet you only took it to make that man's life miserable." She was quiet for a moment, "Though I can't entirely say I blame you for that."

That man. That was what Corny would be now; not simply to Velma, or others who had no idea she'd been romantically involved with him, but to Amber as well. That man she had used to love, that man that was the father of her child. That man that she had once thought she'd spend the rest of her life with.

"Well, I didn't," Amber shot back, though the words weren't completely true. She could still remember that first day she'd come into the studio; she'd been wearing pink, she remembered that part vividly because once, when she'd been seventeen, Corny had told her that pink made her look like a cupcake with frosting. She'd liked the idea of that; the thought of him licking her in that way, his tongue tracing over her skin. And so, on that day that she'd walked into the studio as the new station manager, she'd worn pink. She doubted Corny had remembered it, either then or now, but she had, and had spent the entire day wondering if he had wanted to taste her. That was one of those random memories that she would have from now on; memories of the way her life had used to be, memories of the man she had once loved.

"It was a career move, Mother, not a personal one." Those words also weren't completely true, though Velma had no way of knowing that.

Velma rolled her eyes.

"Everything is personal with you, Amber, that's your problem. You never quite knew how to separate yourself from your emotions." She raised her eyebrows, lines creasing her forehead, and Amber suddenly noticed her mother's age. Tiny wrinkles sprouted from the corners of her eyes, deep creases marked too many years of frowning. Amber felt her face flush.

"I'm fine, Mother," she sneered at her, shifting slightly. Velma's eyes watched her, and Amber could practically feel it; the exact moment that she comprehended that bump beneath her clothing. Velma sucked her breath in, narrowing her dark blue eyes.

"Who did that to you?" Velma demanded suddenly, her voice low and sharp as a razor. Of course, Amber knew the connotation of the words immediately, and felt her eyes beginning to burn with tears as she lowered them to the ground, desperate to look anywhere but the other woman. Amber chewed on her lip, and Velma reached out, her bony fingers wrapping around Amber's thin wrist. "Amber, I demand you to tell me."

Amber's eyes connected with hers for only a moment, and she jerked her wrist away, holding it to her chest.

"Don't touch me. You can't demand anything of me." She shook her head, "You have no control over me anymore." She was silent for a moment, and Velma stood watching her still, her eyes hard and cold. Amber sighed, suddenly defeated. There was no reason to hide it, from her or anyone else. "It's Corny's."

"Jesus, Amber, you let that womanizer impregnate you?" Velma's words were spiteful as she glared hatefully at Amber's stomach.

"Mother, we're engaged!" Obviously, the words slipped out before she had time to think about what she was saying, and she saw Velma's eyes dart to her bare ring finger.

"Nice ring," Velma commented sarcastically, and Amber glared at her, feeling the pinpricks of tears beginning.

"We were engaged," she clarified softly after a moment, "Things didn't work out."

Velma stared at her blankly for a moment, and Amber anticipated her response. She should have known better, but she couldn't stop herself from thinking that maybe Velma would show her some sort of sympathy; just maybe she would offer some sort of long-awaited comfort to her daughter who was now pregnant, yet completely alone.

A smug smirk pressed across Velma's lips, and she shook her head.

"You should have known better than to ever expect anything from that fool, Amber."

Amber felt her cheeks burning with rage at the self-satisfied smirk on Velma's face.

"Shut up," she spit the words back at her, "You have no idea what you're talking about."

Velma caught herself quickly, replacing her sudden surprise with a sneer.

"You think I don't know what happened between him and Brenda, no, all of the council girls, while I was there?" She narrowed her eyes, "You're the only one on the show that he wasn't screwing, Amber. I made damn sure of that." Her shoulders shrugged lightly.

"That is not true," Amber was irate, "Yes, he slept with Brenda, but that was a-"

"A mistake?" Velma took the words from her mouth, "I'll bet it was, now that he's got that obnoxious little brat."

"That obnoxious little brat is my-" Amber cut herself off. Her what? Her ex-fiancé's daughter? Her used-to-be future step-daughter? The words didn't even seem to make sense, and Amber shook her head. "She's not a brat, and Corny's not a womanizer." It was simply a territorial thing now; Amber herself could call Sophie and Corny all the annoying names she wanted, because she knew that deep in her heart, she didn't mean them. When someone else said those words, they struck a wrong chord inside of her.

Velma smirked coolly, tapping her fingernails against her inside of her bare arm.

"You're soft, Amber." Her words were as cold as her glare. "He dumped you, left you pregnant, and you're still tripping all over yourself at the thought of him. That's not the girl I raised."

Amber wasn't sure how to respond to her comment, and clenched her jaw. Velma was gone a moment later, and she was fairly certain she wouldn't see her again for a very long time, if ever again. It wasn't until late that evening, when Amber was lying in bed, that she suddenly realized what she should have said in reply to her mother. She should have told her that she wasn't the girl she had raised; should have said that she was not the same person Velma had been at her age, and had no intention of becoming that person.

And last, but certainly not least, she should have told her that she was not soft; she was hopelessly and desperately still in love with Corny.