the 1 | chaennie

43. I Wish You Would

Nodding, Rosie smiled, letting out a soft sigh as they dwelled in the hushed quietness of the moment, the hum of electricity and shifting weight of the gathered crew seeming overly loud. Rosie could feel all eyes on her and she hesitantly cleared her throat as she curled her hands into fists in her lap, looking at Nayeon.

"Do you mind if we take another break?"

Nodding with an earnest look on her face, Nayeon glanced at the large antique clock on the wall and then over to the director, making a sharp slicing movement with her hand. "Yeah, how about we cut for lunch? Let's break, guys."

Chatter started to fill the room as the cameras stopped rolling and mics were cut off. Rosie climbed to her feet and breathed out, letting her shoulders droop as the tension bled out of them. A hand on her arm made her turn to Nayeon, who gave her a lopsided smile.

"You're doing great."

With a dismissive laugh, Rosie waved a hand and then raked her fingers through her hair, "yeah, it's just ... a lot. A lot of it is resurfacing."

"Well, you only have to share what you're comfortable with."

Nodding, Rosie gave her a brief, wan smile, before Nayeon squeezed her arm and stepped across the line of wires to confer with the director. Rosie watched them bending over the monitor for a moment before she realised someone was at her elbow. Doyeon held out a bottle of water and Rosie's phone, and Rosie took them with a muttered thanks.

Slipping the phone into her back pocket, she cracked the bottle of water open and gulped down half of it as she moved through the throngs of people. Catering had been set up in her kitchen, dominating the long stretch of counters, and she quickly avoided the bustling room, slipping down the hallway and into the second bathroom she came across, hoping to steal a few moments of uninterrupted peace and quiet.

Sitting down on the closed lid of the toilet, she fiddled with her phone and slowly sipped the rest of her water. After a few moments, Rosie held the phone up to scan her face and then opened up her contacts, scrolling through the long list of names until she found the one that was all too familiar. Jennie's name stared back at her and made her heart twinge. The green phone tempted her, but Rosie knew it was futile. A waste of her time.

With a sigh, she climbed to her feet and crumpled the empty water bottle in her hand. Moving towards the marble counters with a large sink, Rosie set the phone down on one side and the empty bottle on the other, bracing her hands against the edge of the counter as she stared at her wan reflection. Dark circles were hidden beneath layers of foundation and her curls were slightly dishevelled from the constant raking of her fingers through her hair, but she looked normal.

The sadness that rose within her, the longing that bubbled up and the slow-burning irritation were all carefully hid beneath a calm mask. It rankled her, the resurfacing of so many conflicting emotions, none of them particularly warming, and she found herself unintentionally gritting her teeth out of sheer frustration. Her throat closed up as the urge to cry clawed at her throat, almost painful as it constricted, and she swallowed the stone in her throat as she thought about Jennie. She ached for her at that moment, so badly that it felt like her insides were tearing themselves apart, and Rosie pressed the fingertips of one hand against her forehead, trying to soothe the dull ache behind her eyes.

She was hunched over when the door opened, a breeze caressing her legs from the motion, and raised her head to glance in the mirror and see who the intruder was. The polite mask that had snapped into place dropped upon the realisation that it was just Irene, and Rosie straightened up and turned. Arms crossed over her chest, she leant back against the sink.