The news didn't come gently.
It never does.
Thomas found out in the worst possible way—through silence that stretched too long, through the way Estrella couldn't meet his eyes anymore, through the trembling in her hands when she finally asked him to sit down.
They were alone.
Rome hummed outside the apartment, alive and indifferent.
"Say it," Thomas said quietly. "Whatever it is… just say it."
Estrella swallowed hard. Her voice barely held together.
"I'm pregnant."
The words hit him like a physical blow.
For a moment, Thomas didn't breathe.
His mind raced—replaying nights, decisions, moments he should have stopped, lines he crossed knowing exactly what they meant. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing once, twice, then stopping in front of her.
"Are you sure?" he asked, not in denial, but fear.
She nodded. Tears slipped down her cheeks.
"Yes."
Silence crashed between them.
Thomas sat down slowly, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it might give him answers. His voice cracked when he finally spoke.
"This is my fault."
Estrella shook her head.
"It was both of us."
But they both knew the truth was heavier than that.
Damiano found out less than an hour later.
Not from Estrella.
From Thomas.
They met in a private studio hallway—cold lights, locked doors, no witnesses. The moment Damiano saw Thomas's face, he knew something was wrong.
"What did you do?" Damiano asked calmly.
Too calmly.
Thomas didn't dodge it.
"Estrella's pregnant."
The sound that came from Damiano wasn't a shout.
It was worse.
A sharp, broken breath—like something inside him snapped.
He stepped forward, eyes dark, jaw tight.
"You crossed a line," Damiano said, voice low and shaking. "Not as a bandmate. Not as a friend. As a human being."
"I love her," Thomas said, immediately. "I never meant to hurt her."
Damiano laughed once, bitter and hollow.
"Love doesn't protect someone from consequences."
For a moment, it looked like fists might fly.
But instead, Damiano turned away, pressing his hands against the wall, breathing hard.
"You don't get to ruin her life," he said. "And you don't get to disappear from this."
Thomas nodded.
"I won't."
But the damage was already done.
The media explosion came fast.
Too fast.
A blurry photo.
A headline.
A leak that shouldn't have existed.
"RISING STAR PREGNANT — FATHER LINKED TO MÅNESKIN MEMBER"
The internet ignited.
Speculation became accusation.
Accusation became cruelty.
Phones rang nonstop.
Paparazzi camped outside buildings.
Comment sections turned vicious.
Aaliyah saw the headline on her phone before anyone could stop her.
She didn't scream.
She didn't cry.
She simply closed her eyes.
"So this is how it happens," she whispered.
Damiano told her everything that night.
She listened in silence, arms crossed, face unreadable.
When he finished, she said only one thing:
"Our daughter will not be eaten alive by this world."
Outside, flashes lit up the Roman streets like lightning.
Inside, everything had changed.
And there was no going back.