So I'll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep
And I feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe
And I keep up with our old friends just to ask them how you are
Hope it's nice where you are
And I hope the sun shines
And it's a beautiful day
And something reminds you
You wish you had stayed
You can plan for a change in weather and time But I never planned on you changing your mind
-
"I told you my story had three beginnings, right? But not every beginning coincides with a breakup. But if there are three beginnings, I suppose there are also three endings, and they are the breakups."
"Three breakups?"
"Essentially, yes. We'd argue and call it off and come crawling back the next day, but those were just in the moment kind of things. They were never serious. But there were three serious endings, and I guess that this was the first."
-
As smoothly as everything had been going - for the most part - of course it didn't stay that way. Clare and Mason went back to London after a few more days, and Rosie kept Jennie clear of them for the rest of their stay, and was filled with relief when they went. She missed them so much, but she couldn't help but feel nervous when they were around, as if she was doing something wrong, even though she knew that she wasn't. It was going to be hard for her to feel comfortable around them, but she hoped that distance would give everyone the time that they needed. Space would be good for them.
But a week later Jennie wrapped her movie and was going to Seattle to shoot a new film for three months. Rosie had known about it, but it had seemed like such a distant thought, something that was so far away and outside of the bubble that her and Jennie created. They were doing the best that they could with their light night visits and the occasional secret outing to an antique store or a coffee shop, but distance would be the real test. In their industry, nothing made or broke a relationship more than distance. Of course it was expected - Rosie would be off touring after her album dropped anyway - but she was desperate to hold onto the moments that they had and silently hoped that the day would come slowly.
It didn't though, and sooner than she would've liked - a lot sooner - she found herself standing in her doorway with Jennie, hugging her tightly and fighting back a wave of sadness. Loneliness welled up inside her, and Rosie's eyes burned with the thought of curling up in her bed alone, of pacing her empty apartment in the early hours of the morning, knowing that Jennie wasn't about to turn up after a long day of shooting. The knowledge weighed heavily in her heart and she clung to her a little bit tighter.
Sensing her sadness, Jennie pulled back and rested her forehead against Rosie's, her hands coming up to gently cup her face in her hands, her warm breath ghosting against her lips, and Rosie closed her eyes as a lump formed in her throat. "I'm going to miss you," she softly admitted, her voice cracking slightly.
"It won't change anything," Jennie gently assured her, "not for me and you. You can- you'll visit. And I'll be back for premieres and interviews. It won't be so long."
"I know," Rosie sighed, her shoulders deflating as her eyelids fluttered open and she pulled back, a small smile curling her lips. She didn't mention that when Jennie finished shooting, she'd be getting ready to tour, and when she came back, Jennie would be shooting again. It was a never- ending cycle. Instead, she cradled Jennie's upper arms in her hands and gently squeezed as she gave her a more convincing smile. "It's going to be great. Seattle's great. You're going to crush it."
Jennie quietly laughed, an anxious look in her deep brown eyes as the corners of her mouth quirked up slightly. She was nervous, but there was excitement brimming beneath the surface, and Rosie was excited for her. They both knew that their careers were tricky, constantly requiring travelling and long times spent apart, and they'd stumbled upon each other in a good time when there were both in the same place at the same time for a solid block of time. Now was the real test, and Rosie's stomach tied itself into knots at the thought.
Giving her another smile, she reached up and tenderly brushed a lock of hair out of Jennie's face, "go on then, you don't want to miss your flight."
Ducking down slightly, Jennie kissed her, her lips warm and hard against Rosie's, and she lingered for a moment, both of them savouring it before she pulled back. "I love you."
"I love you too," Rosie said, her eyes crinkling at the corners, "let me know when you land."
"Of course."
Stealing one more kiss, Jennie stepped out into the hallway, and Rosie lingered in the doorway as she watched her go, giving her a small smile and a slight wave when Jennie glanced back over her shoulder as the elevator doors opened. Kissing her fingertips, Jennie gave her a small wave in return as the doors slid shut and hid her from sight.
Closing her eyes, Rosie slowly breathed out and sagged against the doorframe, her heart weighing heavily in her chest, and she went back inside to her empty apartment. Pottering about in the kitchen, she tidied up and stared out at the pinpricks of light amidst a sea of darkness, sadness lying heavily on her as she brooded until there was nothing else to do but go to bed. She lay on the right side of the bed, pummeling the pillows into shape and feeling the coldness emanate from the empty space beside her. Over such a short period of time, she'd gotten used to having Jennie curl up beside her, always a warm and solid presence, and it felt strange to go to sleep and not have to set an alarm to shoo her girlfriend out into the early morning darkness before they got caught.
That first day was the hardest, knowing that things were different rather than feeling it. They didn't get to see each other every day, even when they wanted to, so Rosie didn't so much feel that it was different to not see Jennie, but the knowledge that she couldn't was a constant nag at the back of her mind. It made her broody and irritable over the following days, as she went longer without seeing Jennie. They talked as often as they could, and she fell asleep on the phone to Jennie more than once, her eyes burning as she stayed up as late as she could to prolong their time together, but it wasn't the same over the phone. She wanted to hug her, to run her fingers through her soft hair, kiss the underside of her jaw and trace her cheekbones with a soft touch. She'd never missed anyone before, not like that, and Rosie realised it's because she'd never had anyone to miss like that. It wasn't like missing her family or Talia; it cut deep to be away from Jennie, and as proud of her as she was for chasing her dreams, it didn't make her miss her any less.
They were only apart for three weeks though, before they saw each other again. It was Jisoo's birthday at the start of June and Rosie flew to Seattle to visit Jennie. They were having a party for Jisoo out there, seeing as she'd joined Jennie out there for a few weeks to shoot a few projects, and Rosie had leapt at the chance to sneak out of town for the weekend and enjoy Jennie's company. She'd missed her more than she'd thought possible, and she was brimming with excitement as she packed her things and was picked up by a sleek black car and driven to a small, private airstrip on the outskirts of the city. Her bodyguard was accompanying her and she'd invited Talia too at Jennie's suggestion, both of them having become a little more open with sharing their relationship with those they trusted. Talia had taken it well, and she'd eagerly agreed to meet her in Seattle when Rosie extended an invite. She was excited to see her friend too, but the thought of seeing Jennie again made her heart soar.
The flight wasn't long, and the plane was tiny and all for her as she stretched her legs out in front of her, absentmindedly twirling a pen as she stared out the window and thought of new lyrics. She sipped sparkling water as she occasionally burst into a flurry of writing, crossing things out, humming a melody and then scribbling out more words, until a song started to take shape beneath the nib of the pen. It helped calm her down, and the flight passed by quickly.
Before she knew it, they were descending, down through the puffy white clouds, while a mass of green and small mountains spread out below her, Seattle a grey sprawling maze beneath her, buildings winking in the sunlight as they sank lower, bypassing skyscrapers that jutted up from the urban mess of the city. Buckled in, she gripped the armrests and bit her bottom lip as she tried not to smile, peering through the oval window as her heart soared. Jennie would be waiting for her, and that was all that Rosie could think about.
Wheels grazed the tarmac, bouncing and jostling the small plane until they came to a screeching halt, and as soon as it was safe, she threw off her belt and scrambled for her belongings with ink-stained hands. Handbag over her arm, her bodyguard grabbing her case and guitar, Rosie was standing by the door, waiting for stairs to be brought over for her. She was jittery with anticipation, her heart racing in her chest, and as the door opened, she stepped out into weak sunlight and a mild breeze.
The smell of rain hit her and she registered the figure climbing out of a rented grey Lexus, brunette hair turning to spun gold in the sun, and Rosie's face split into a wide smile as she ran down the metal stairs. Her feet pounded on the pavement and Jennie met her halfway, catching Rosie as she threw herself at her, and Rosie's stomach lurched at the quiet, familiar chuckle in her ear as she buried her face in the side of Jennie's neck. She could feel her heartbeat jumping through her shirt and she let out a faint sigh as she relaxed in Jennie's tight embrace.
"Hi," Jennie murmured, her lips brushing her collarbone, and Rosie couldn't help but smile into her hair.
Pulling back, she gripped her arms tightly, eyes shining with happiness as she looked into Jennie's brown eyes, creases radiating out from the corners as she smiled back down at her. The wind ruffled their hair and the air smelled of petrichor from the greenery surrounding the airfield, and Rosie wanted to kiss her, in plain sight of the few airfield officials and the pilot, but she settled for looping her arm through Jennie's and eagerly walking towards the parked car. Her bodyguard followed behind and stowed her luggage in the trunk, before settling into the back seat. Rosie made herself comfortable in the front, and Jennie gave her an excited smile as she ran a thumb over the back of her knuckles.
Lunging into an excited babble, Jennie talked non-stop the entire way back to the rented apartment that she was staying at, and they were careful sneaking Rosie up, although Jennie assured her that they had so many people coming and going that no one would even notice. Jisoo was there, along with a few unfamiliar faces, who Rosie was quickly introduced to. There was Kim Taehyung, an actor mostly known for his back to back stints on Broadway, Jessica, Jennie's childhood best friend, Chahee Park, an English fashion model, two women called Bona and Seola, who were introduced as Jisoo's friends, and Krystal Jung, who she already knew.
She was quickly made welcome, a glass of wine handed off to her while Jisoo made a jibe at her being underage, and Jennie laughed as she walked up behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist, hugging her from behind and resting her chin on her shoulder. Rosie perked up at the casual gesture, loving the feeling of how normal it felt, with no one ogling them or making snide remarks about their relationship, and she leant back against her solid chest, smiling softly to herself as the comforting smell of Jennie's perfume enveloped her.
They weren't actually staying in Seattle, and after that first night, cuddled up against Jennie's side and waking to her arm thrown heavily across her waist, the small gathering of friends bundled into a few waiting cars and were driven back to the airstrip Rosie had landed on. Talia has arrived that morning and Rosie was all smiles as she nervously introduced Jennie to her best friend, a glow of happiness about her as they all sat in the back of the car, chatting away as they drove through Seattle. A small jet was waiting for them on the airstrip, and they were all flown out to Ocean Shores, a small coastal sand-blown town on the waterfront. A few cabins had been rented for the weekend, and that night they all made it to the beach, Rosie wrapped up in a sweater and faded jeans as she padded barefoot over the sand, breathing in the briny sea air as the wind tousled her hair. She felt peaceful as she rolled her jeans up and let the salt water ripple over her feet, listening to the shouts and laughter behind her as everyone made themselves comfortable on the skeletal trunks of bleached trees washed up on the sand. They had a cooler full of beer and they all lounged about on the sand as they watched the sunset.
Jennie wrapped an arm around Rosie's shoulder as they sat on the sand, leaning back against a log, a faded navy and white mehina cotton throw tossed over their legs as staticky music crackled out of a portable stereo and the sun faded into darkness and a smattering of silver stars. She didn't get to talk to Jennie much, but she was content with the feeling of her shoulder beneath her cheek, the steady beat of her heart and the swirling circle's Jennie drew on the back of her hand as they listened to everyone talk. Whenever Jennie laughed or spoke, Rosie felt the deep reverberations of her voice in her chest, and it made her stomach lurch, reminding her again of how much she'd missed her.
The short trip didn't last long, and before she knew it, she was saying goodbye again. It had been a fun weekend, spent playing blackjack at one of the old casinos, horseback riding along the beach, listening to gulls wheel about above them, visiting the garish seafood themed restaurants lining the shorefront, and she found herself wishing that it could be like that all the time. But she had work, and so did Jennie. Back in Seattle, they said goodbye, and she'd thought it would only be for a few more weeks - two months at the most - but it ended up being a lot longer than that.
As she hugged her tightly, holding her for as long as she could while they swayed back and forth, memorising the feeling of Jennie's arms wrapped around her, Rosie didn't know that it would be a while before she felt them again. When they kissed goodbye, fingertips caressing jawlines and cheekbones, and their eyes drank in the sight of each other, there wasn't even a shred of doubt in their touches and stares. Only sadness and love. Their goodbye was filled with the promise that they'd see each other again soon, not with a note of finality, like this was the last time. But the thing about the last time was that, at the time, you didn't know it was the last time. And when Rosie climbed onto the plane with a heavy heart, it was still whole - aching but very much intact - and it hadn't been broken yet.
She fell back into her familiar pattern upon her return to Miami, spending her day's fine-tuning songs, debating whether the piano should be more prominent in a song, if the pitch was right, whether more backing vocals were needed. Each day she came home drained, her mind spinning with new melodies and debates about what the track listing should be. She was kept busy, and it grew harder to find moments to talk to Jennie in between her shooting her film. But Rosie missed her more than ever, finding herself leaving voicemails when her calls weren't picked up, feeling frustrated as she tried to find the right moments to call Jennie. Their schedules were fluid and constantly changing and packed, and in the brief moments they managed to catch each other, all of Rosie's troubles would fade into the background. It was just her and Jennie in those moments, and the rest of it went away, the ache in her heart would recede and she'd look out of her apartment window and bite her lip as she smiled.
Even when it grew harder, she never saw the ending coming. There were no warning signs. The two of them were still trying their best, they were falling more in love with every passing day, and they were counting down the days until they could see each other again. Jennie had an interview with a late night talk show host for an upcoming movie and would be in town for the night next month, and Rosie held onto that thought when she was overwhelmed with loneliness. They never made it to that night.
It was late June when Jennie called her in the early hours of the morning. Rosie was still awake, trying to work out the chorus for a new song, and she dropped everything as her phone lit up in the dimly lit kitchen. Smiling, she answered the call and pressed her phone to her ear, her heart softening just with the anticipation of hearing Jennie's voice.
"Hey, you."
"Hi. I, uh, I didn't think you'd be up."
"I've nearly got this chorus sorted out. I just can't quite get the melody right, but I've nearly got it. I can feel it," Rosie said, letting out an exasperated sigh, even though she loved the challenge of getting a song out.
There was a pause on the other end of the phone. "Oh, yeah, that sounds great."
Rosie hesitated for a moment, her brows wrinkling slightly, "is everything okay?"
"Everythings ... everything's just- it's hard. I miss you."
"Yeah, I miss you too," Rosie slowly replied, her frown deepening.
Jennie let out a shuddering breath on the other end of the phone, "I miss you, I do. I need you to know that. And I love you - I love you a lot."
"I know," Rosie murmured.
"But it's hard. I'm sorry, I just- it's not a good time for me. It's all ... a bit much."
"Yeah," Rosie whispered, "I know, but you're nearly done there. You'll be coming home soon and-"
"It's not working , Rosie. You and me ... the distance is too much."
Realisation hit Rosie like she'd just plunged into ice cold water, shocking her and numbing her all at once. Lips parting, the air in her lungs was forced out as her eyes widened, and her stomach filled with dread. Confusion washed over her as she stood there in silence, with silence on the other end of the phone, and she frowned as she swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to make sense of things. Everything had been fine. She'd spoken to Jennie yesterday; they'd been laughing about something that had happened on set, and Rosie had played her a new song. It had all felt normal. It had felt okay. But she felt sick as she realised how wrong she'd been.
"What- what are you saying?"
"I can't do this anymore," Jennie said, her voice cracking with tears. Rosie's eyes prickled with her own tears at the pain in Jennie's voice, and a hollow emptiness opened up inside her. "I'm sorry," she breathed, her voice hitching on a sob, "I know that I said- I said nothing would change, but that wasn't true. And it's not that you- it's nothing anything you've done, it's just- it's not a good time for me. I can't do this distance thing. It's just ... not working. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, really I-"
Rosie hung up, feeling her heart shatter as she stood there in the dim light of her empty apartment, numb with shock, but knowing that she hurt. Swallowing thickly, she squeezed her eyes shut, drawing in a deep breath and exhaling in one slow, shuddering gasp. Tears prickled her eyes and her phone buzzed in her hand, which was tightly clamped around it, and she felt her face flush with warmth as humiliation and betrayal washed over her. Letting out a choked sob, she forced her fingers to loosen and her phone clattered to the floor as she stood stiffly near the window.
Another sob worked its way up her throat, and Rosie slowly sank down to her knees, wrapping her arms around herself as she shook, a deep pain cutting into her heart as her bottom lip trembled. She knelt on the hard floor for what felt like forever, swallowing sobs as she sniffled, her eyes closed to the world as she tried in vain to keep her heart in one piece. Out of everything she'd imagined, she'd never thought that Jennie would end things so suddenly, with no warning, no attempt to even try and fix it, and it left Rosie feeling hurt and devastated and too drained to even feel angry.
A small part of her mind softly intruded on her wounded thoughts, murmuring that maybe it was all a big mistake, maybe Jennie would call her in the morning, when a new dawn shined down on the day, and she'd realise that her words in the early hours of the morning had been a mistake. Perhaps she'd regret it and confess that she was stressed about work, upset at the distance between them, but still so in love with her that she couldn't possibly have meant what she said.
But dawn came, painting the room in weak yellow sunlight as the sky turned tangerine orange on the horizon, and Rosie sat with her back against the wall, eyes hollow and ringed with dark circles, red and puffy from crying, and she clutched her phone in her hands and waited for a phone call that never came. As in disbelief as she was, it was over, and Jennie hadn't even given her a proper reason. She'd never imagined that of all the ways that things would end between them, that it would be like that, and she just kept thinking about their last goodbye, about their last kiss, which she'd taken for granted at the time, full of reassurance that she'd see Jennie again soon. She hadn't realised that it would be the last.
-
"It's so devastating to come to terms with speaking of someone in the past tense when you used to see them as your present and your future. Of course, that was only the first time we'd broken up. I was devastated, of course. Completely crushed. But ... well, I think that was actually the easiest time. We were only together for a few months, I'd only had a taste of what it felt like to be in love with someone, and it hurt, a lot, but I didn't- well, I was still young. I was twenty and I'd made so many steps forward with her. I'd been hurt before, and I was afraid to be honest to even the people closest to me, and then I met Jennie and she was so giving with her love and she made me feel proud to love her. And then it was all just ... gone. Over."
"You didn't see it coming?"
"No, I was completely blindsided. And that's always the hardest thing, when someone completely has you fooled so much, that you think they're never going to hurt you, and then they do. That's when you get the worst heartbreak. It was ... crushing. I didn't even see it coming, and that's what hurt the most, because I thought we were fine - it was getting harder, but we were fine - and then it was just ... over."
"Did you feel like she'd let you down?"
Rosie laughed, her eyes shining slightly as a sadness brimmed there, forcing a lump to get stuck in her throat as she recalled all of those painful memories. Somehow, even after all this time, it still hurt sometimes. She'd think about how sad she'd been, how broken - not just the first time, but all of the times it had ended - and her heart would ache. Even when they'd patch things up again, there were always those fractured pieces that had healed into scars. They were still visible, even if they'd mended, and old wounds could ached from time to time, not matter how much time passed.
"No, no, she didn't let me down. A letdown is worth a few songs; a heartbreak is worth a few albums. God, I could've written albums just on that time alone. Of course, I threw myself into my music, going through the stages of sadness, grief, anger, confusion. There were so many emotions, I didn't even know what to think. And I had an album coming out! I wrote furiously for weeks, and a couple of those songs made the album, in the end. All I had left was my music. With my parents separating, and things tense at the label because they were trying to cover up my sexuality, and then Jennie leaving me ... everything sort of felt like it was falling apart, and I was trying so hard to keep it together."
"Were there ever moments where you wanted to fall apart?"
She gave her a grim smile. "Of course. It was like I was constantly reminded of her. You know how it is when you're going through heartbreak; a heartbroken person is unlike any other person. Your time moves at a completely different pace. It's like this mental, physical, emotional ache and feeling so conflicted. Nothing distracts you from it."
Pausing for a moment, Rosie sighed heavily and gave her another smile, this one a little more genuine. "Then time passes, and the more you live your life and create new habits, you get used to not having text messages every morning. You get used to not calling someone at night to tell them how your day was. You replaced these old habits with new habits, texting new friends and hosting dinner parties and going on tour to new places and having new adventures, and then all of a sudden, one day you're in London and you realise you've been in the same place as your ex for five days and you're fine. And you hope she's fine."
"Is that how you dealt with it the last time?"
Tilting her head to the side, Rosie pressed her lips into a thin line as she deliberated, "in a way. Except, I didn't get to the point where I was fine, and I don't think she did either."