Love's a fragile little flame || Jenlisa Adaption

Chapter 3

Mino [8:23 a.m.]: *photo attachment*

Mino [8:23 a.m.]: *photo attachment*

Mino [8:23 a.m.]: *photo attachment*

Mino [8:23 a.m.]: *photo attachment*

Mino [8:23 a.m.]: *photo attachment*

Mino [8:24 a.m.]: courtesy of your publicist. looks like you had a fun time last night

Mino [8:24 a.m.]: very chummy with the co-star, jennie...

Mino [8:25 a.m.]: i have literally never seen you smile this big in my life

Mino [8:26 a.m.]: is your celebrity crush becoming a real crush??

Jennie [8:50 a.m.]: oh god

Jennie [8:55 a.m.]: also, fuck off

*

The photos are all over social media.

Even if Mino hadn't texted her, there's no way Jennie could've missed them, what with the way her mentions are blowing up.

At first, Jennie's heart races as she scrolls through Instagram, remembering Sam's comment last night about some guy recording a video and fearing the worst. But after a few minutes, she feels fairly certain that the only evidence of what happened last night is in the form of paparazzi photos.

The relief she feels soon fades though, as she realizes those are damning enough on their own.

There are five or six iterations floating around. Most show the same things: Jennie and Lisa stumble out of the club with linked arms, wide smiles, and flushed cheeks. Jennie's leaning into Lisa as she laughs, squinting against the flashbulbs. Lisa's smiling too, mouth half-open, like the camera caught her mid-sentence. Both her and Jennie's clutches are tucked under her arm.

Those photos are whatever. They're not images that Jennie would prefer to be splashed all over the internet, but they're innocuous enough. Her PR agency is probably brainstorming positive spin strategies at this very moment.

But there's one photo that makes her stomach drop.

It's dark and blurry, since it was shot through the tinted window of the Uber, but Jennie can make out the scene clear as day; she and Lisa in the back seat, bent over each other with their heads pressed together. Jennie's turned away from the camera, but the flash illuminates half of Lisa's face. She's smirking at Jennie, her one visible eye cast downward, in the direction of Jennie's lips.

But the focus of the photo — the center of the golden freaking triangle — is Jennie's left hand, resting midway up Lisa's bare leg, the tips of her fingers dangerously close to the inside of her thigh.

Jennie feels feverish just from looking at it.

The only upside is the poor quality of the image. There's no way the major publications would buy it, which is a small blessing.

But the fan accounts don't care. It becomes glaringly obvious that they're posting this particular shot more than any other.

They all caption it with variations of the same thing:

"I ship it."

*

Jennie feels fairly nauseated as she walks downstairs, gripping the railing with white knuckles.

She and Lisa have a late call time today. The car that will bring them to set isn't slated to arrive for another 10 minutes, but Jennie couldn't stand pacing around her apartment any longer.