Love's a fragile little flame || Jenlisa Adaption

Chapter 7

At this point in her career, Jennie's lost track of how many times she's been interviewed. Despite that, it's immediately clear that today's press junket is different from anything she's done in the past.

There's basically a mini TV studio set up in the corner of the hotel function room. She and Lisa are seated in director's chairs in front of a backdrop that has "The Last Note" printed across it in bold letters. Opposite them is the hub of the operation — a bevy of lights, cameras, and serious-looking crew workers.

Their PR teams have joined forces with studio flacks to split into two groups: one hovering just off-camera and the other, armed with clipboards, gatekeeping at the door.

Jennie closes her eyes and takes a deep breath as the sound guy threads the mic wire underneath the front of her blouse.

"Gee, I love getting felt up this early in the morning," she mutters, voice as flat as she can make it.

She knows it's rude, but she's overwhelmed and, whatever, they're in New York City. They invented 'rude.'

The sound guy says he's almost done and Jennie opens her eyes, planning to apologize, when she senses Lisa looking at her. She glances up and, sure enough, Lisa's watching with this wry expression, lips pressed together like she's trying not to laugh.

In the split second their eyes meet, Jennie's mind flashes back to a morning in Boston when Lisa woke them up before the alarm; when she spooned Jennie from behind and slipped her hand beneath her t-shirt, teasing her nipples until Jennie whined and pressed back against her, needing more.

Lisa holds her stare for a long beat before looking away. A trace of a smirk lingers on her lips.

Jennie takes another breath and tries to will the redness from her cheeks.

It's gonna be a long day.

*

It is a long day, but not in the way Jennie feared.

They're booked solid from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m., with just a short break penciled in for lunch. Lisa does the heavy lifting in the first few interviews, but after that Jennie finds her groove. Most of the journos ask variations of the same few questions and Jennie feels like she's learning her lines as she goes. After the first half-dozen reporters, she's able to rattle off responses without much thought.

It's plain to see that Lisa is a pro at this sort of thing. She delivers the same rote responses, too, interview after interview, but they never sound scripted or stale. Jennie tries to follow her lead, to leave room for spontaneity, to look for opportunities to have fun.

At some point, without even realizing, it becomes more fun than not.

She and Lisa play off each other. When they're asked a tired, boring question for the 30th time, they start making up answers.

"What was it like kissing another woman on camera?"

"Difficult," Jennie says somberly. "And I mean that literally. Our boobs kept getting in the way, so it was physically hard to get our mouths to touch."

Lisa's lips part in surprise just for a second before she lifts her chin and nods. "It's true," she says. "That was, like, a whole thing. We had to hire an intimacy coach."

Sometimes Jennie jumps in to answer for Lisa, just to try to get a rise out of her.

"Lisa, what was it like working with Jennie Kim?"

"Oh it was awful, she hated it," Jennie tells them. "I'm a monster. All the cute smiling and giggling that's happening over here—" she points her thumb in Lisa's direction "—yeah, that's all for show."