Love's a fragile little flame || Jenlisa Adaption

Chapter 8

Going to therapy is, like, such an LA thing to do.

At least, that's what Jennie thought when she first moved out here. Everyone and their mother had a therapist. It seemed like such pretentious, navel-gazing nonsense.

Kai, of all people, is the one who finally convinced her to go. He said it might help her deal with the stress of her growing fame, to come to terms with the lack of control that accompanied it.

She agreed begrudgingly. She was still in love, back then, and she thought he might see something she did not. And it turned out he was right.

The love didn't stick, but the therapist did.

During Jennie's first session after the New York press trip, she has a minor breakdown.

Okay, maybe not so minor.

Her therapist listens calmly as Jennie tells her how angry she is with herself. Why is she her own worst enemy? Why is she still like this? After all these years of therapy, why isn't she better?

Her therapist reminds her to go easy on herself. To focus, instead, on how far she's come; the progress she's made.

"What advice would you give a friend who was in a similar situation?"

(She's asked this question before. Jennie kind of hates when she asks it.)

"I know the exact advice I'd give. That's not the problem."

"What is the problem?"

"I... I just don't know how to follow it."

"That's okay. Let's start there."

*

Afterward, Jennie drives home, drinks a glass of water, and takes a three-hour nap.

When she wakes up she's still exhausted and her eyes are insanely puffy, but she feels a little better.

She's not there yet, but now she has a plan.

She has a goal. A destination.

She just hopes that when she gets there, it isn't too late.

*

Jennie squeezes in three more therapy sessions before the final dress fitting, ahead of the premiere.

Both she and Lisa are being dressed by Rodarte — the fashion house that designed costumes for the film. Their looks are meant to be a pair, so the designer insists that they do their last fitting together. It's the only way to ensure that they're 'cohesively aligned from an aesthetic standpoint.'

But Jennie doesn't care about that.

She cares about seeing Lisa.

Who she hasn't heard from in nine days.

Who she's written 100 texts to, but never hit send.

*

Jennie's feeling slightly lightheaded when she walks into the building where the fitting will take place.

Her stylist, Jisoo, and her two assistants are all business. They steer Jennie past reception and into a cozy lounge that's part living room, part design studio. There are sofas and mirrors on one side and sewing machines and bolts of fabric on the other.

Jennie doesn't know what to make of the duality of the space. She doesn't spare much time to consider it as she scans the room, looking for Lisa. Her search is interrupted by the principal designer, who pulls Jennie in for an angular, awkward hug.

After they exchange pleasantries, Jisoo waves enthusiastically to a woman over by the windows. She places a hand on the small of Jennies back and guides her over.