And it's not theirs to speculate
If it's wrong and
Your hands are tough
But they are where mine belong and
I'll fight their doubt and give you faith
With this song for you
'Cause I love the gap between your teeth
And I love the riddles that you speak
And any snide remarks from my father about your tattoos will be ignored
'Cause my heart is yours
-
Clare ended up staying in a hotel after that first week, and Rosie felt like she could breathe a little easier, without feeling like she was doing something wrong just for existing in the same space as her. Still, she was in a strange mood over the following days, happy with how things were with Jennie, but feeling like there was suddenly a wall between her and her mother. She'd always been able to tell Clare everything, but now she had secrets from her - big secrets - and she was starting to regret letting her anger get the better of her because somehow, her honesty didn't make her feel better.
That didn't stop her from seeing her mother though, going out for late dinners at fancy restaurants, trying to diffuse the tension between them as they made stunted conversation about Rosie's upcoming album, about how she was liking the city and how Alice was thinking about going to Berlin for her birthday. She never mentioned Jennie, and she was happy to keep sneaking around at night, keeping her a secret from her family as well as the world, but the secrets weighed down heavily on her.
As happy and in love as she was, Rosie wished that she could share that part of her life with her mum. When she spoke to Alice on the phone she wanted to be able to tell her about Jennie, and she wanted to tell everyone the truth in her songs. Rosie wanted to introduce Jennie to her parents, fretting that they'd dislike her because she wore the wrong sort of dress or was too overly American, even for her American mother, not because she was a woman. She wanted a lot of things that she was too afraid to do, and this was one instance where being fearless despite her fears wasn't quite within reach.
So she stayed silent and told herself that she was taking baby steps, letting her family adjust to the idea of her loving women before she showed up with one on her arm and caused an even bigger rift between the splintering remains of her parents' ruined marriage. She'd thought that everything had settled down for the most part though, her mother just taking her time to come to terms with the news, while Rosie took some time to get used to her parents separation, but on Thursday morning, she was playing a few notes at her upright piano out in the open living room when her phone buzzed on the kitchen table.
Climbing to her feet, she covered the keys with the fallboard, closed her journal and padded across the room, hoping that it was Jennie messaging her in between takes. Her hopes sank slightly as she looked down at the message from Chanyeol, and she quickly read over the contents of the text, calling her to a meeting at PCY Records' headquarters in an hour. Biting back a sigh, she wondered what pressing album matters couldn't wait and walked towards her bedroom to fetch her things. It would take her nearly an hour to make it to the office building in the congested inner city traffic, and she wasn't dressed to leave the apartment.
Rushing to change her clothes, she jammed her feet into a pair of sandals, grabbed her bag and a light denim Jacket, and was out of the door a short while later. Sitting behind the wheel of her Porsche, she hummed out a vague tune and set her phone to record, making memos as she tried to piece together the music for her latest song. Over the past few days, she'd written four songs, and one showed real promise as a potential candidate for the album, which was nearly finished and just needed a few more tracks and some final polishing. The album shoot was scheduled for two weeks' time, her and Chanyeol had already had three different arguments about the album title - she'd wanted to call it Enchanted, for the night she'd met Jennie, but he thought it wasn't meaningful enough and she couldn't tell him why it was so she'd settled on Speak Now - and she was stubbornly insisting that she would be able to finish off the album herself in the next couple of months.
They were planning on releasing it in autumn, following the precedent of her last two albums, which meant that she'd need to release her lead single in a few months' time and wrap everything up. It wasn't even halfway into the year yet, but she could feel the pressure surrounding this album. Her fame was growing with each day, with each hit, and she needed to keep the ball rolling before she faded back into nothingness and let her career snuff out with a dull album that didn't sell. But Rosie was too wilful and headstrong to not put every ounce of herself into her work, and she had faith that the album would be a success. A part of her was determined to make sure it was because, for the first time in her life, it was personal. Too personal. It was about her and Jennie, and her family and Suzy, and how all of these new changes in her relationships were affecting her. A part of her wanted it to succeed just so that she would know, deep down, even if only for herself, that her budding love for Jennie was universal, that nothing changed just because she loved a woman, and that no matter if she changed the small details, her love was real to her and everyone else.
But when she pulled up at the office and breezed in through the lobby, smiling at the receptionist and spending a few moments talking to a few of the employees crowded in the elevator, she stepped out onto Chanyeol's floor and found herself staring at the back of the CEO, who turned and gave her an easy smile as he beckoned her forward.
"Hey kid, how're you feeling?"
She shrugged indifferently as he slung an arm around her shoulder. "I think I might have a new song for the album."
"Fantastic! You can play it for me after the meeting and we'll see."
Giving him a warm smile, she let him guide her towards the conference room, and he opened the door before ushering her in to find three women already sitting there. Clare, Hyeri and Irene. Pausing just inside the door, Rosie blinked in surprise as suspicion crept up on her, and she realised that this wasn't an album meeting. Her publicist and manager didn't concern themselves with the tiny details about her songs and how they were produced and whether she needed to amp up the folk music aspect in one song and the country in another. Her mother wouldn't have been called in either. With dread, Rosie felt the blood drain from her face as she met Clare's eyes with an accusing look on her face.
"You told them?!"
"Take a seat, Rosie," Chanyeol softly ordered her from behind, and she found herself stumbling forward, feeling numb as she took a seat at the end of the long table.
She all but collapsed onto the chair, her hands trembling as she balled them in her lap, and she watched as Park Chanyeol walked to the other end and sat down, staring down the length of the table as he reclined in his chair with an unreadable expression in his eyes. The room was dimly lit with yellow lights and bright sunlight streamed in through the wall of windows behind him, giving a glimpse of palm trees and dusty foothills on the horizon. She'd spent hours in that room, on both of her previous albums and the upcoming one, poring over possible album covers, debating track listing and discussing the details of her first tour. It had always been filled with passion and voices clamouring as they tossed ideas back and forth and hashed out their disagreements.
Never had the room felt so quiet and tense and left her feeling cold inside as she stared down at the wooden grain, unable to bring herself to speak. It was a relief when the door opened again a few minutes later, and she eagerly looked up, hoping that it was some kind of business emergency that would mean that Chanyeol had to rush off and she could postpone this meeting until another day, giving her some time to pull herself together. As she looked at the tall man that stepped in, she jolted with surprise in her seat as she took in the sight of her father.
"Dad? " Rosie exclaimed, quickly climbing to her feet and rounding the conference table to hug her father.
The smell of his expensive aftershave brought back memories of her childhood, and she pressed her cheek against the collar of his grey Italian suit jacket, unable to hold back a smile. It had been months since she'd seen Mason and a long time since she'd spent any regular time with him. His arrival was completely unexpected, but she found herself glad for it and smiled up at him as she pulled back.
"What're you doing here?"
"Your mum's been up in arms about you being a lesbian and all, so I was summoned to come and sort out this business before it gets nasty."
Mason looked down at her and gave her a quick kiss on her cheek, before he took a seat at the long table, leaving a considerable distance between him and his wife. Rosie stood there spluttering for a moment, her cheeks turning red before she pressed her lips together in a flat line and sat back down at the table.
"Shall we crack on? I had to cancel two business meetings for this," he dad grumbled as he unbuttoned his jacket and lounged in the chair.
"Two meetings," Clare coolly replied, "well I'm sorry that your daughter's life and career is an inconvenience to you."
Her father didn't deign to reply, much to Rosie's relief, and they all sat in the heavy tension as they waited for someone to broach the subject. Park Chanyeol was leaning back in his chair, legs crossed as he stroked his moustache, while Hyeri gave Rosie a shrewd look and tapped her pen. Irene was looking at her vivid red nails, a bored expression on her face and Rosie was nearly sick with worry as she sat stiffly in her chair, palms sweating and a lump stuck in her throat.
"Well, to put it simply," Chanyeol drawled, clapping his hands down on the arms of his chair and pushing himself up in his seat, "we have a problem, and that problem needs to be extinguished."
"Problem?" Rosie spluttered.
"Yes, a problem. That is what it is, Rosie."
She opened her mouth to protest, but Hyeri held up a hand and gave her a grim smile, begging her to just listen for a moment. "What Chanyeol means is that ... well, publicity-wise, it would be a big mistake if ... this was to get out."
"It'd be a fucking PR nightmare, is what it'd be," Chanyeol bluntly cut in.
"We just want what's best for you, Rosie," Irene soothingly replied, "we're all a team here, and our primary focus is making sure that your albums sell and you don't do anything to jeopardise that happening."
Her lips curled up into a tight, bitter smile, her brown eyes flashing with anger, and she crossed her arms over her chest as she swivelled in the leather office chair. "And my being gay would kill my career. That's what you're saying, isn't it?"
Shrugging helplessly, Hyeri gave her another grim smile, "well, yes. Essentially."
"Your demographic is deeply religious folk who want a good girl who's all moony-eyed over boys and sweet and naive," Chanyeol said, waving a hand in a vague gesture, "that, I can sell. I can sell your love songs and all those teenage girls drink up all those relatable heartbreak and secret crush stories you spin. What I can't sell to a bunch of tractor loving hillbilly's and a bunch of Catholics is some lesbian love songs about you kissing other girls. And if I can't sell that, your career goes down the drain."
Blanching, Rosie opened and closed her mouth uselessly, angry tears pricking her eyes as she sat there and let them tear her down with the harsh truth. She knew it was the truth, of course, which was why she'd never told anyone before, even though she'd known she'd liked girls since she was a teenager herself, but it still hurt to have them rip apart the small shred of hope that perhaps they'd jump on board and support her. They could've pushed this angle, used her sexuality to push some progressive agenda that could help her sell more albums to a different group of fans. But clearly Chanyeol didn't think there was a market for it, and Hyeri didn't think that it would be good for her public image.
"To put it plainly, Rosie," Chanyeol said, "either you put out an album I can sell - one about boys and fairytale romance and heartbreak - you put out four more of those albums, or I shelve you and you stay locked in a contract with PCY Records until your career is so dead that no one would even want to sign you anyway."
"Okay, that's-" Clare interjected, an irritated look flitting across her face, but she trailed off as Chanyeol waved her silent, leaning forward as he stared at Rosie from the far end of the table.
"I'm not being cruel. I'm not," Chanyeol continued, "but it's the brutal truth. Everyone here knows it, and so do you, Clare. It's why you told us to begin with. You know it too, Rosie. I know you do. And I don't care who you love - by all means, do what you want in your own time - but in public, for the cameras and in your music, you're playing a part, and I expect you to play it well. There's millions invested in you, and it's not a risk I'm willing to take. I took a chance on you, and now you have to decide if you want the career you've always dreamed of, or if you want to walk away from it all."
Rosie swallowed thickly, her mouth dry and her voice hoarse as she replied. "I'm seeing someone."
"What?" Clare blurted out.
"Who?" Hyeri asked, pen poised in her hand as she looked expectantly at Rosie, waiting to write down the name so that she could get ready to do damage control and spin whatever lies necessary to make a story disappear or seem harmless. There was nothing for her to worry about yet, but in this industry, it helped to be prepared.
Grinding her teeth together, Rosie closed her eyes, panic welling up inside as she struggled with how much she should share. Telling them that she was seeing someone, that her feelings were real and existed and weren't just some faraway idea for the future, was one thing, adding another layer of complication to their predicament, but roping Jennie in with her name made it very real. Hyeri would reach out to Jennie's team, they'd go into panic mode, trying to do damage control without even knowing what they were trying to control, and Rosie wasn't sure if she was ready for the panic that would come crashing down on her relationship. It was precariously balanced between her and Jennie's careers and steeped in secrecy and she could already envision it all coming apart at the seams.
"I won't tell you," she haughtily replied, arms folded over her chest as she stubbornly raised her chin, "you already micromanage my life so much - dye your hair blonde, no more glasses, you have to stick to this diet because no one likes a fat popstar, don't talk about politics - I won't have you meddling in my relationships too."
She pushed her chair back and climbed to her feet, giving them all a sulky look before she stormed towards the door. Yanking it open, she stepped out into the cool hallway and walked towards the elevator. Jamming her thumb into the button, she hunched her shoulders and clenched her jaw, fighting back her anger and frustration as she forced herself to take shallow breaths. She felt exposed, having been led into a trap like that unprepared, and she couldn't bring herself to sit in that room any longer and have them fill her head with their doubts. Rosie already knew the risks, and she was walking a tightrope, but she was managing it. None of them have any idea what she'd been up to for the past couple of months; they had no idea about her and Jennie, and it wasn't up to them to speculate or make decisions for her for the sake of her career. It seemed so unfair to Rosie that she had to pick.
Heels clicked on the tiled floors and she willed the elevator to come faster, but a hand fell on her shoulder as it dinged and she was pulled around to face Irene. There were pity and understanding in her publicist's eyes, and Irene gave her a small smile, before jerking her head towards the low leather bench set against one wall.
"Let's sit down for a minute and talk," Irene softly told her, steering her towards the bench.
Body tense, Rosie sat rigidly with her back against the wall, arms folded across her chest as she tried her best not to look like a petulant child. "I won't let them tell me how to feel," Rosie bristled, "I signed a contract for music , not to have my life dictated by someone else."
Irene rested a hand on Rosie's arm. "Your contract has a clause that you have to stick to the image that the label is trying to sell. Anything you do to jeopardise that gives them the right to terminate your record deal, or ... well, shelve you. Look, I know it's not ideal, but ... well, no one in that room is asking you to change who you are."
"They are!"
"No, no, Rosie, they're not. You can be whoever you want to be in your own time, but in front of the cameras, you need to be someone else."
"I'm not an actor , I'm a singer. If I wanted to pretend to be other people, I would've gotten a career in the film industry."
"Just ... come back inside. Everyone in that room is on your side, okay? We all want to help you and do what's best for you. Come back inside and we'll talk through your options there."
She sat in sullen silence for a few minutes, the silence tense and uncomfortable, her eyes shut as she tried to focus on calming herself down. And then she sighed, deflating slightly as the tension bled out of her shoulders. Running a hand through her mass of curls, she nodded. Irene gave her arm a gentle squeeze as she smiled, before she climbed to her feet and left Rosie to follow after her. Stepping back into the room, she felt a little more subdued and took her seat at the end of the table again while Hyeri settled herself back down on hers.
"Right, so, as I was telling Rosie, we all want what's best for her, right? So let's discuss how we're going to manage this," Irene said, laying her hands flat on the tabletop and giving everyone pointed stares as her eyes roamed from one face to the next.
Clearing her throat, Hyeri lounged in her chair, legs crossed at the knee as she twirled a pen between her fingers. "It's just not going to work unless we know who we're trying to keep stories away from. Whether they're high profile, if they're going to cross paths in public, whether they're already out are all things we need to know to try and come up with a good enough plan."
Rosie considered that for a moment and realised that Hyeri was right. If she wanted to make sure that she could still keep seeing Jennie in secret, with no repercussions in her career, she'd have to give them everything so that they knew what kind of lies to spin to keep people from catching wind of their relationship. They were doing okay themselves, but there was only so long that Jennie could keep sneaking into her apartment in the early hours of the morning, and disappearing before the sun came up before they were caught. And if Rosie was being honest, sneaking around was starting to get a lot less enjoyable than she'd first found it. The thrill was wearing off and she wanted to be able to go out for breakfast and lunch and dinner, to introduce her to her friends and go bowling together or visit a museum. The most they'd ever done together was go to old antique stores staffed by people who were lucky if they'd turned on a TV that was in colour in the past twenty years.
"Okay, I- just give me a minute," Rosie slowly said, "I need to make a call."
It wasn't up to her to decide whether she told them about Jennie, knowing that very few people knew that Jennie was attracted to women as well as men, and she didn't want to out her to a room full of people just to make it easier for herself. Slipping her phone out of her bag, she stepped out of the room again, this time with nervous anticipation instead of anger, and she let herself into the glass-walled office of Park Chanyeol, taking a seat in a brown leather armchair and letting out a shaky breath before she dialled Jennie. Rosie knew that she was on set today, but she was hoping she would catch her in between takes or during a short break, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip as she listened to it ring. It wasn't a decision she wanted to make without Jennie's approval, and she closed her eyes as her heart raced in her chest.
"Hey, you."
She was almost breathless with relief as her eyelids fluttered open, and the worry in her heart was brushed aside by the simple act of hearing Jennie's voice. "Hi."
"What're you up to today? I thought you'd be busy writing."
"I'm, uh, I'm in a meeting. It's ... well, everyone knows about me. Me and you. But they don't know it's you."
There was a brief pause. "Okay. Are you okay?"
Blowing the air out of her lungs, Rosie let out a shaky laugh and ran her fingers through her hair, slowly growing more and more dishevelled looking.
"I mean ... yes, but no."
"What can I do? Do you want me to leave-"
"No, no," Rosie hurriedly assured her, "you can't just leave set. You're the star."
"I know, but-"
"They're making a plan. Damage control and public image and all of that. And they want to know who I'm seeing. I didn't tell them your name. I didn't- well, you're not out-out, and I-"
There was a quiet laugh on the other end of the line, and Jennie softly sighed, "it's okay, Rosie, you can tell them. I just- well, I guess I'll have to let my publicist know so they can get in contact with each other and sort this out between them. Kyungsoo already knows about me, maybe they can coordinate."
Smiling slightly at her optimism, Rosie softly sighed. "Sure."
"Sorry, I have to go," Jennie hurriedly replied, "we're about to start shooting. I'll see you tonight? I'll bring Chinese food."
"Okay."
"Try not to worry your pretty little mind too much, okay? I know this all makes love look hard, but it's simple really; I love you."
Laughing, Rosie felt a warmth spread through her chest as she leant back in the chair, her cheeks turning pink with happiness, and she couldn't help but smile. "I love you too. Have a good day."
She lingered in the office for a few more minutes, taking the time to collect herself, before she walked back into the room and firmly told them all Jennie's name and watched them flounder for a moment before everyone erupted into conversation. It was almost a release to tell someone Jennie's name, to admit that they were dating and make it real. If it was under different circumstances, she might even have felt happy about it, but at the very least, she was proud of herself and she resolved not to let anyone make her feel ashamed for it.
It was a long meeting. They went back and forth for so long, debating the best way to manage how they were going to present her public image while she snuck around with a girl in her private life. That much was very clear, that there would be no publicity allowed. Not even so much as a whisper about them being friends. Chanyeol was almost cruelly blunt with his strict instructions, leaving no room for misunderstanding as he made it obvious that if she failed at keeping her relationship a secret, that would be the end of her career. Rosie loved Jennie, but music was her life, and she knew that she would have to put it first, even if it made things harder for them.
And then came the suggestion of a PR stunt in the form of a fake relationship manufactured by Hyeri and someone else who was in the spotlight and looking for more fame or trying to hide their own secrets. Rosie objected at the mere thought of parading around with someone else, forcing herself to pretend with some other man for the rest of the world, while she loved Jennie in private, but the idea had already been put out, and everyone else was eager to take that pathway.
But Rosie already have enough buzz about her dating other men, even from so much as breathing the same air as them, and she stubbornly fought to keep that as a backup plan. If things progressed, if she was given an inch with her relationship with Jennie, perhaps allowed to masquerade as friends, then perhaps she'd consider having a fake boyfriend. But it was already too much, and too much pressure with an upcoming album to finish, and she was weak with relief when Chanyeol begrudgingly agreed with her and the matter was put to rest. For the time being, she was walking on eggshells and they were all acting as a flimsy wall to balance her when she stumbled. It was made very clear that she wouldn't be allowed to fall very far.
After what felt like the longest few hours of Rosie's life, the meeting ended, and she felt shaky and hollow as she walked from the building with her parents in tow. Her father was staying at a nearby hotel and kissed her on the cheek and insisted that he'd walk there and change, before coming to her apartment, which left her alone with Clare as they both climbed into her car. Her mother had asked if she might come to Rosie's apartment for a cup of tea, and as much as Rosie craved some time to herself, to muddle through what had happened and vent her feelings in the form of a very angry song, she relented and found herself sitting behind the wheel as she buckled herself in. The silence didn't last very long.
"Why didn't you tell me you were seeing someone?" Clare quietly asked, sitting in the passenger seat of Rosie's car. She had her eyes closed and was clutching her handbag in her lap, her shoulders tense and an air of sadness about her.
Rosie turned her key in the ignition and the car purred to life and she found herself unable to explain it delicately. She didn't want to hurt her mother's feelings, to make her feel like she didn't trust her with the truth. The truth was that Rosie had been scared. She'd been scared that it would all be too much for Clare, that the idea of having a gay daughter was already too much, without the added element of another woman in Rosie's life. A very real woman who she loved and wanted to bring home for dinner and take to family events. Her mother had barely looked her in the eye for the past week just at the mere mention of her liking women. And it wasn't that Clare meant any harm in it, and she was trying her best to come to terms with it, but it had left Rosie scared that her mum would reject her in the worst possible way. And all she could think was that it was a good thing that she had her own money. It would break her heart to lose her family over this, but she could look after herself and she'd already put up the walls around her heart and tried to steel herself for the rejection.
"Because it's been hard for you," Rosie said, her voice low and shaky as she gripped the steering wheel hard. "And it's been hard for me too. And I didn't want to make it any harder."
"This is your life , Rosie. And this makes it harder whether you want it to or not."
"Well I'm sorry for being such a burden," Rosie snapped, "I'm sorry that I'm such a disappointment because I'm dating a woman. And I wish I could make you feel better about it, but it's not up to me to do that. I can't help it. I can't just ... change how I feel. Trust me, I spent years trying to convince myself that they weren't real feelings, but ... they are." Her voice cracked embarrassingly and her eyes were glassy with tears as her frustration grew, but the words just kept tumbling out of her. "And I'm sorry that you care more about what God says on the subject than me, but that doesn't mean I'm going to listen to what an old book says is right and wrong over my own intuition. And it wasn't up to you to decide who should know about my private life; you shouldn't have called this meeting."
Making a sound of frustration, Clare gave her a stern look, "but it wasn't just about your private life. This affects your career. I just- I don't want you to make a mistake and ruin the rest of your life over the way you think you feel right now. You're young and you might-"
"Do not say I'll change my mind," Rosie snapped, colour rising in her cheeks as she turned the corner a little aggressively and accelerated, "it's not a phase, it's not-"
"I'm not saying that! I just mean that ... maybe you should wait until you find someone that you want to spend the rest of your life with. She might be your first love, but she might not be your last, love. Is it really worth staking everything on her when you're both so young? "
"I think it is," Rosie stiffly replied.
"Well ... okay."
They drove the rest of the way in silence, Rosie brimming with resentment and her mother sitting there in discomfort, unease emanating off her in waves as she tried to accustom herself to the fact that her daughter was dating a woman and was ready to risk everything for her. Perhaps Rosie was foolishly naive, but she really did think at the time that Jennie was everything she wanted and that nothing could tear them apart unless they let it. And they were happy and in love, and Rosie refused to let a wedge be driven between them. For now, she was at a fragile stalemate with her record label and her team, and with an album to finish, she didn't have time to hash out the finer details of what they could and couldn't make her do concerning her own relationship. She just hoped that this wouldn't all blow up in her face before she had time to try and smooth it all out.
It was clear that there would be a lot of smoothing with her mother though. It wasn't exactly anything Clare did, but there were connotations to her words and some of them were bluntly honest with her thoughts, and while she hadn't rejected her daughter yet, there was an undercurrent of disapproval in everything from her looks to her posture. Rosie wasn't sure how she could fix things there, and there was the snarky self-righteous part of her that didn't want to. Why should she have to fix her mother's feelings for her? It wasn't her with the problem; Clare should figure it out herself and decide whether her daughter was worth setting aside her prejudice, steeped in religion, or not. In the meantime, the best that Rosie could do was keep her love life to herself.
She drank tea with her mum at the dinner table, warm sunlight pooling on the table as the faint smell of oranges and rich earth stemmed from the potted tree near the windows, and the afternoon slipped by easily. Her father came over a couple of hours afterwards, wearing a freshly pressed linen shirt with his customary suit, rolling the sleeves up and discarding his jacket as he drank black coffee near the open windows. It was a warm day, the sky cloudless and a mild breeze flooding into the apartment as they all sat around together, but it was a strained atmosphere, and Rosie didn't like it.
Her parents were stiff, but cordial for her sake, knowing that they would be forced together upon occasion for the sake of her career and wellbeing, and they all stepped around the conversation of their separation and Rosie's sexuality, while all being overwhelmingly aware of the elephants crowding the room. Rosie secretly wished that Alice had been there to diffuse the tension. She'd always been good at that, and she'd already phoned her over the past week to see how she was holding up, and it would've been nice to have someone on her side. Her father hadn't said much, but she sensed his disapproval, even if he seemed to be taking it a lot better than Clare.
As the day wore on, she was expecting them to leave. Both of them had their own hotel rooms and the days had been exhausting enough, but her parents stayed where they were as if trying to soak up as much time with her as they could. A pang of homesickness struck Rosie, and she realised just how much she'd missed them now that they were there with her, and she wished it had been under easier circumstances. She wished that they were a real family together, playing scrabble and winding each other up like they had when she'd still been living at home when she'd play them songs in front of the fire and her dad would make hot chocolate on cold nights. She almost wished that they would go so she could hold onto those memories, instead of tainting them with these new aloof ones. Whatever other people thought, there was a certain sense of comfort in naivety, and she almost found herself resenting Clare for ever telling her that they were separating.
But things never quite worked out the way she intended them to. Rosie loved to control her life, she loved to feel like things were her choice, like she was the one orchestrating it all - although she gave love its freedom, knowing that it could be fickle and unexpected - and she hated to lose that control. And there it was, happening again a little after seven o'clock, dusk nearly consumed by darkness and a knock sounding on her door, making her freeze up. Her parents were still there, bickering about something or another, and Rosie's frustration had built and built and built that she'd completely forgotten that Jennie was supposed to be coming over. She had a relatively short day of filming - only fourteen hours - and Rosie hadn't expected her parents to come to her apartment after the meeting, let alone stay well into twilight. And now here they were, sitting at the table, with Rosie's girlfriend outside the door, unbeknownst to them, and Rosie felt control slipping out of her grasp as she ran through the two outcomes of this situation. Either she went to the door and told Jennie to go, or this was the moment that her parents would finally meet her.
Neither of them was high on her list of preferences. She didn't want to dismiss Jennie so flippantly, even though she knew Jennie would understand. Rosie had agreed that she should come over after work, and she knew that she was standing outside with an armful of Chinese food, and she didn't want to give up the night that she'd been anticipating with her. They spent so little time together as it was, and she cherished those moments in their secret world they built together. But her parents had only learned about her existence in Rosie's life a few hours ago, and she didn't want to push it too far by inviting her in and pretending that everything was all okay.
"Ah, that'll be the fish and chips. Lovely stuff," her dad said, clapping his hands together and climbing to his feet.
Rosie didn't remember them agreeing on ordering fish and chips, too preoccupied with her own thoughts, and she quickly leapt to her feet. "I'll get it."
Her dad settled back down on his chair, shrugging indifferently as he slipped her the notes he'd pulled from his wallet, and she gave him a wan smile as she took them and quickly rushed towards the door. Her heart was pounding as she tugged the door open, and as she had expected, Jennie stood there, all beautiful and warm, the smell of spices drifting up from the bag she held and faint circles under her eyes. She was wearing a thick knitted cardigan over a baggy t-shirt and faded jeans, and she leant in to gently kiss Rosie.
"Hey, you look exhausted," Jennie said, giving her a grim smile as she reached up to tenderly stroke her cheek.
"Yeah," Rosie murmured, rubbing her forehead, "yeah, I'm actually knackered. It's, uh, it's not really a good time right now." She watched as Jennie's face dropped with disappointment, and Rosie felt guilt well up. "I'm sorry, I know I said to come, but- it's just-"
"You got enough change there, love?" her dad shouted after her as Rosie winced, a sheepish look on her face as she met Jennie's surprised crystalline brown eyes.
"My parents are here."
Her voice was barely above a whisper and she half-stepped out of the doorway, closing the door slightly behind her as she felt her stomach lurch. Jennie took a step backwards, a look of understanding on her face as she nodded. "Oh. Okay, I, uh, I'll call you?"
"What're you doing, girl? Catching the fish yourself?" her dad asked, his voice closer now, and Rosie softly swore as she found herself caught between her two choices. "Rosie?"
She had to push the door open further to step back inside, and she glanced over her shoulder at her father, who hovered halfway down the hallway, his forehead wrinkled with a slight frown. Jennie was in plain sight behind Rosie, and Rosie closed her eyes as she let out a soft sigh. His eyebrows flew up and she could hear movement further inside the apartment, the sound of chair legs scraping on the floor as her mother eavesdropped. She felt her stomach drop even further as everything rose to a point of no return. There was no choice but to introduce them to Jennie now, and she quickly turned to give Jennie an apologetic look, before stepping inside and leaving the door open in a silent invitation as she faced her father.
"Dad, this is Jennie."
"Jennie, is it?" he said, his brogue rough around the edges of her name, and he gave her an appraising look as Jennie took a measured step inside, looking slightly put on the spot and mildly bewildered at the fact that Rosie was letting her stay.
Blinking in surprise, she took a quick step forward, juggling the bag of food in her arms to free up a hand, which she held out. "Yes sir, it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Park."
Her father laughed as he looked down at Jennie's hand before he reached out and gave it a gentle shake, eyeing the brunette with amusement. "Well, best get yourself all the way inside before that food gets cold. Do you like fish and chips? We've got some coming."
She gave him a tentative smile before nodding, and Rosie quietly shut the door behind them, her heart beating quickly in her chest as her palms went clammy. She mouthed an apology at Jennie as she gently ushered her down the hallway, although there was a part of her heart that was soaring with happiness as a warmth spread throughout her; Jennie had met her father, had shaken his hand, and she found that she loved that. She was nervous and scared about how the rest of the night was going to go, but there was a feeling of pleasure in the simple act of watching two parts of her life meet.
As she neared the end of the hallway though, she took in the sight of her mother standing near the table, a startled look in her wide, brown eyes as she stared at the newcomer. Rosie took a hesitant step forward, a wary look in her eyes, and swallowed her nerves. "Mum, this is Jennie."
"Jennie," Clare said, giving her a thin smile, "it's lovely to meet you. Rosie's been telling us all about you."
"It's lovely to meet you too, Mrs Park," Jennie said, her smile slightly subdued.
Taking the food off her, Rosie set it down on the table, "Jennie brought Chinese food."
"Oh, well, that's ... lovely. I'll set the table."
Rosie weakly sank down onto her chair as Clare hurried into the kitchen, her back stiff, and pulled plates and cutlery out of cupboards and drawers. Her father found wine glasses and a bottle of Shiraz and brought them over. It was a few minutes of silence before the door knocked again, and Rosie handed the crumpled bills in her sweaty hands over to her dad to go and fetch the fish and chips this time.
In a few short minutes, the four of them were sitting at the round table, plates filled with their preference of food, and Mason was pouring them wine. Uneasiness coiled in Rosie's stomach, and her shoulders were taut as she was coiled ready to spring to her or Jennie's defence, should her parents make any too judgement jabs. Rosie drained her wine quickly and wolfed down her food, trying to end the night before it got too embarrassing for her. Sooner or later her mum or dad would say something that was a little too sensitive for Rosie, who was already exhausted, and she didn't want to cause any more tension between them. She was tired and irritable, and she just wanted them to go so that she could spend time with Jennie.
"I see you have a tattoo," Mason continued, his eyes trained on the hint of black ink of Jennie's bicycle tattoo showing from beneath the band of her sandals. "You know, in the bible, it's considered a sin."
Jennie speared a piece of fish on her fork, "I did know that, yes. I don't really follow the teachings of the bible though."
"Oh, you're not Catholic then?"
At the shake of Jennie's head, Mason's mouth turned down slightly at the corners, and Rosie gave him a sharp look from across the table. Clare was quiet as she ate her food, leaving the conversation to her husband as she bottled up her criticisms. No doubt she would speak her mind to Rosie on another occasion.
"I don't think her religion is the most pressing concern here," Clare dryly said.
"I'm didn't say it was a concern , I just- well, I never thought that Rosie would bring home someone who was ..."
"You mean gay," Rosie blurted out. "Let's not mince our words. I've already told Jennie how you feel about it, and it doesn't really change anything, so there's no need to walk on eggshells."
Jennie hesitantly cleared her throat, a strained smile on her face as she reached for her glass of wine. "I understand that it's a bit of a surprise and that it might be hard for you, especially with the whole, ah, Catholic thing. And I've dealt with this before, so I get it, I do, but I love your daughter, and ... well, I think that's one thing we can all agree on, right?"
Everyone looked at her for a few moments, before her parents shrugged and nodded, mumbling vague agreements, and Rosie watched as Jennie's shoulders went slack and she smiled with satisfaction as she carried on eating. The rest of their dinner was by no means any less awkward or uneasy, but the tension was alleviated slightly and Rosie could tell that her parents were trying to get to know Jennie, even if it was only for her sake, making stunted conversation as they tried to find anything to talk about.
By the time that her parents left for the night, both of them leaving separately in private cars, Rosie was glad for the night to be over. She walked them both to the door when it was time for them to go, mumbling a goodnight and letting them both kiss her on the cheek, and when her mother had left last, she fell back against the door and let out a loud sound of frustration, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.
Jennie called her from the kitchen a few moments later, and Rosie sighed as she slouched towards her girlfriend, feeling so many things at once that she wasn't even sure what to make of it. Things had gone far from how she'd planned it, and it hadn't been as horrible as she'd expected, but it had by no means went perfectly.
"I feel like screaming."
Turning with a teapot of boiling water and brewing tea in hand, Jennie let out a quiet chuckle and carefully poured out a decent measure of amber liquid into the teacups she'd arranged on the counters. Stirring in some milk for Rosie, she pushed the cup towards her.
"That would ruin your angelic voice though. Here, have some tea instead."
"I won't have a career to worry about needing an angelic voice if this all goes arse up. I'm going to end up as a judge on X-Factor, or worse , a contestant on Dancing With The Stars."
Laughing, Jennie wrapped her in a warm hug, squeezing her tightly as she pressed a soft kiss to her blonde curls. "It's not going to be as hard as they're making it out to be. People throw rocks at things that shine, and you shine so bright that they're just ... trying to be realistic, and that feels like they're tearing you down, but really they're just ... well, being realistic. The world isn't a kind place, and they want to protect you from that."
"And my parents?"
"Look, I'm not going to pretend that it's any of my business, and I know it's different for everyone, but ... they can't hide behind their religion as an excuse. Taeyeon was so supportive of me and Jisoo, and I know that we were the incredibly lucky ones, but that doesn't mean that you have to accept that your parents aren't so open to that. Is it a shock for them? Yes, completely. But that doesn't mean that they can't be understanding, if not supportive. Talk to them. I'm sure tonight, meeting me, brought up a lot more concerns for them, and they probably have questions too. It's not up to you to make them feel better about it, but you can maybe help them understand it a bit better."
"Right," Rosie mumbled, digging the heels of her palms into her eyes as Jennie gently grasped her shoulders and held her close.
"Tea," Jennie reminded her with a quick kiss on the forehead, "I'll run you a hot bath."
-
"I'll be honest, I lost my link to my religion there. You listen to my earlier albums and there's a smattering of references to it, and I'll be honest, I was never this devout Catholic, but I grew up with that. You know, I went to a Catholic boarding school with nuns, I went to mass all the time, the whole thing. It was kind of expected where I grew up in Melbourne. I didn't really have much faith in it all, but I remember that I used to love the church at boarding school."
"The church?"
"It was really old and the acoustics were just perfect . I'd stand on the pulpit and sing songs by The Cranberries, pretending I was Dolores, and the words would just echo off the vaulted ceiling and it was the only time I ever really felt at peace in a church. Music had a way of making me feel this strong presence that connected everyone a lot more than believing in some God did, and I just- well, I built my career off of that. Of creating something real that connected us all. And then when my parents had trouble separating their religion from my personal life, it kind of ... it put an even bigger rift between me and what I'd grown up believing. And I know that a lot of people have gone through a lot worse with this, with their coming out, but when you're suffering through something, you don't think that you're lucky because you don't have it the worst, you don't think about other people because you're hurting and you just want it to stop. So I've always tried to do right by being so open with my love, because sometimes there are people who need just a little bit more of it than someone else. And just the idea that there were kids out there being told that their God hates them for their love just made me feel sad . I've never quite gotten my faith back because of that. Instead, I threw myself even deeper into my music, so that I could make that connection with the thing that brings me peace."
"You used your music to cope?"
"Of course! I think for me, music has always been such a big outlet for everything I've felt. And everybody has that point in their life where you hit a crossroads, and you've had a bunch of bad days and there are different ways you can deal with it, and the way I dealt with it was, I just turned completely to music. I learned that there were two ways you can get through pain; you can let it destroy you, or you can use it as a fuel to drive you. To dream bigger, work harder."
Nayeon gave her a knowing look. "Well given the sheer amount of success you've had, I guess I don't need to ask where you channelled all that pain. Your songs ... I mean, some of them are so personal about your heartbreaks. Did you ever stop and think that maybe you didn't want to share something with the world?"
Laughing, Rosie gave her a wry smile. "All the time. Especially when it was about Jennie. Sometimes ... well, there are moments when I think I've been unfair in my songs, and maybe painted her in an unflattering light. Or there were moments where I lied about her appearance, made out as if she was another guy I was seeing with brown eyes or a gap in their teeth, or wrote something that was ultimately small as if she'd done this unforgivably bad thing to me, and just, well, I acted like she was this idea, rather than a person. But I made the decisions to put those
songs out, over and over again, and it wasn't always easy, especially with the ones where I poured my entire heart out, but I always chose to do that. And I've never regretted doing that. Maybe how I did it, I suppose, and how difficult it made things sometimes."
"Did you ever fight about your music?"
Screwing her eyes shut, Rosie tipped her head back as she let out a loud laugh, clapping her hands to her heart as she trailed off into a groan. "Oh God, yes. So many times. I'd write about a fight and she'd ask me to play it for her, and then we'd fight again about how wrong I'd gotten it, and I just- I loved it. I loved how we pushed each other with our work. She'd make me rewrite things she didn't like the sound of, I'd tell her that she was reading a line wrong, and we made each other better for it. We were always brutally honest with each other, sometimes at the expense of each other's pride, but it was what we needed. We were good for each other, we just ... we fit. Until we didn't."