Two headlights shine through the sleepless night And I will get you, and get you alone
Your name has echoed through my mind
And I just think you should, think you should know
That nothing safe is worth the drive and I would Follow you, follow you home
I'll follow you, follow you home
-
"The European leg of my tour came next. I played in Australia in March, and you have no idea how good it felt to be home. I'd never really thought of Miami as home, and London was, in some respects, but Melbourne ... it was where I truly felt peaceful and normal, and it made me so happy to be home. I was in London a few days later, which was just as comforting, and it was good for me, to be around so many things that reminded me of home. Of course, I wasn't really okay, and I missed Jennie more than ever." Rosie laughed as she frowned slightly, a confused look on her face. "Do you know how much you have to miss someone to be on world tour for a critically acclaimed album, to be home in Melbourne, at all the places you'd played at before you'd even so much as been looked at by a record label, to realise that you had everything you'd ever wanted, and feel ... nothing."
"You went back to her," Nayeon guessed, her voice a low murmur as she gave Rosie a pitying look.
Giving her a half-hearted smile in return, Rosie shrugged, "not until May."
"What happened in May?"
-
The second leg of the Speak Now World Tour ended late March, and Rosie was offered a two-month reprieve before the North American leg began. Her last show had been in London, and she lingered for another week in the city, going for tea with her mother, played tennis with her father and had lunch at his golf club in Wimbledon. After a week, she went back home to Miami.
With nothing to do and weeks of spare time on her hands, Rosie found herself restless in her penthouse. She spent hours pacing back and forth, cooped up and irritable because paparazzi were camped across the street, she wrote a few songs and made homemade jam, she spent hours on the phone with friends, making plans to see them when their schedules lined up. It was all boring. To compensate, Rosie bought herself a new house.
House was a generous term because the Cape Cod Colonial stood on an acre and a half of land with a long, gated driveway and a guest house out back. It was all white clapboard with French doors that opened out onto vine-draped pergolas shading balconies, porches and patios. It even had a tennis court.
She spent hours shopping for furniture, filling the farmhouse-style kitchen with vintage crockery and expensive kitchenware, the glossy countertops lined with cookbooks and small potted plants, copper saucepans hanging over the industrial stove and fresh flowers standing in a vase each day. Her orange tree stood in the corner, in the patch of sunlight that streamed in through the windows, and she would drink coffee at the breakfast bar in the mornings and stare at it deep in thought.
Rosie bought books for the cypress wood built-in bookshelves, oriental rugs for the living rooms and antique lamps for the end tables in her bedroom. At dawn, she sat out on the patio, staring out at the view of the canyon, and at night, she lit a fire in the stone outdoor fireplace, breathing in the woodsmoke as she drank wine and softly strummed her guitar in the comforting orange glow of the fire. But with four bedrooms and bathrooms, the place felt empty and removed. She was lonely.
Weeks slipped by in peaceful isolation, and there was a sense of peacefulness in her new estate in the hills. Nobody bothered her, the paparazzi were held at bay behind a long driveway and thickly treed surroundings. It wasn't that Rosie didn't have any friends - she had an endless list of people to spend her time with - it was the fact that she didn't feel close to them. They would meet up at red carpet events or fashion shows, movie premieres and glamorous parties, but most of the time they were all off working on their own careers. The singers were on tour or bust recording new music, the actors were all around the world filming for TV and film, and the models were at the fashion capitals of the world, opening runways and posing in the latest styles.
If she was being honest, it was nice to spend most of her time alone anyway. After a few weeks on tour, constantly surrounded by people and always on the move, from hotel to hotel, it was nice to have a permanent home. It was nice to have quiet moments to herself, to think out loud and do whatever she pleased without being recorded or photographed. She preferred her trysts into the spotlight to be on her terms.
She made a few appearances over the weeks, but the biggest one wasn't until the start of May. After a month of idle relaxing, she was attending the Met Gala, one of the most highly anticipated events of the year, and an impossible invite to refuse.
Arriving on the red carpet in a custom J.Mendel gown, she posed for photos on the red carpet outside the museum, while artists of all kinds milled around, posing in extravagant outfits that matched the theme for that year. It was Alexander McQueen: Savage Beauty. Skipping her usual saccharine sparkles and ballgowns sweetheart style, Rosie chose something a little darker and stronger, a one-shoulder gown in gunmetal and peach, with the requisite sparkle and frill, but without the princess feeling to it. Her hair held her customary curls and her lips were her signature bright red, but a smoky eye gave her a darker, more alluring look than usual. It felt good to stray from the usual and ordinary.
Inside, there were McQueen garments through the exhibit, sparkling like jewels upon their plinths as they winked in the dim lighting. The Temple of Dendur was the site of the dinner, the place transformed into a lush garden covered in roses and other pastel flowers, while round, unfinished wooden tables dotted the room. She knew Jennie was there, but she hadn't seen her on the red carpet and couldn't see her inside the packed room either.
When they were seated, Rosie found herself at a table with a few unfamiliar faces and found herself a little apprehensive as she introduced herself, knowing that the seating charts were planned with perfect precision, trying to match people up for an interesting night at the biggest fashion night of the year. To her left was a dark-haired man, wearing a black, silk Armani suit, his hair perfectly slicked back and beard neatly trimmed. He gave her a bright smile as he twisted in his seat, recognition lighting up his brown eyes.
"Oh, you're Roseanne Park," he said, his voice coloured with surprise.
As she looked at him, Rosie cocked her head to the side with the nagging feeling that she knew him from somewhere. "I am," she said with a wry smile, "I feel like I should know you."
He let out a deep chuckle, his eyes flickering with amusement, "we've never met, but I believe you know my music. My manager told me you had my lyrics written on your arm at one of your concerts. I've been begging her to set up a meeting for weeks now. I'm Jeon Jungkook."
Recognition jolted her memory, and she gave him a sheepish smile as she held her hand out, "of course! Lego House! It's a brilliant song."
He ducked his head as he pressed a hand to his chest, "that means a lot coming from someone as talented as you."
"Yeah?" she replied, eyebrows rising slightly, as one side of her mouth curled up into a smile, "doesn't the fact that I write silly songs about boys and heartbreak diminish me a little bit?"
"As someone who writes silly songs about girls and heartbreak, not at all," he said, reaching for his champagne flute and giving her a quick wink. He held his dainty glass up with slender fingers and Rosie quickly scooped hers up, gently clinking them together with a quiet chime. "To real talent."
Rosie gave him a coy smile as she eyed him, taking a sip of golden champagne and leaving a red lipstick mark around the rim. While she was praised for her songwriting, there was always the undercurrent mocking of her frivolous songs about boys, of childish love and romance and heartbreak, and while people weren't openly rude to her face about it, she knew she was garnering a reputation for it. Jeon Jungkook placed himself on the same side as her, and it was refreshing to have someone else on her side. And he sounded like he was being honest too, which was also rare in their industry. She couldn't count the number of times people had told her they loved her album while knowing deep down inside that they wouldn't have been able to name any tracks aside from her singles.
Her evening turned out to be a lot more eventful and fun than she'd thought, and after a night spent worrying about her appearance, and eyeing everyone else's fashion choices over courses of exquisite food, she found herself at Crown for the after party. All at once, it was like everyone let loose as soon as they stepped into the marble foyer. Alcohol ran freely, old music drowned out quiet conversation and everyone fell onto leather sofas and cosy armchairs or rushed to the dancefloor.
Jungkook became her unofficial escort for the evening, and Rosie found that she was enjoying herself more than she had in a long time. She couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed so much, drinking mineral water and chatting as the party raged on around them. He was from London and they spoke at length of their favourite places and acquaintances they had in common. She told him about Melbourne and he told her about his Korean heritage, they shared stories about their passion for music and both of their latest albums. He was handsome in a way that would've been arrogant if he hadn't been so sincerely charming and effortlessly polite, coaxing her onto the dancefloor with suave moves. By the end of the night, they had plans for a songwriting session together.
As much fun as she was having though, her night took a quick turn when she finally spotted Jennie. Instead of her usual sweet, demure look, she'd opted for a vivid red - a perfect match for Rosie's bold lipstick - wearing a Michael Kors bandeau halter gown. Her brunette hair was back in a sleek ponytail and she wore a gold metal cuff around one wrist. If it wasn't for the vivid shade of her dress, she would've looked like a Greek god, all golden and tanned, and a pang of heartache seized Rosie as she spotted her from across the room and subsequently ignored her as she averted her gaze.
Escaping to a cool corner of the room, away from the packed dancefloor, she fetched herself a glass of water and felt sweat prickle her skin as her heart hammered in her chest. Jungkook was still dancing away, his suit Jacket long since abandoned, the sleeves of his Italian silk shirt rolled up over his forearms, and Rosie realised that no matter how many friends she made, there was always going to be a piece of her heart that they couldn't touch, because it belonged completely to Jennie.
Leaning against a pillar, she cradled her water in her hand and watched the party unfold before her, the hour growing late and the guests becoming increasingly drunker. She was still sober, having barely taken a sip of her champagne, and some of the thrills of the night was wearing off. The night had felt so magical, so full of fun and excitement, dancing with strangers and laughing all night long, but now she just felt drained. It was like she'd come out from underneath a spell. Standing there in an expensive, custom made dress, with some of the most famous people on the planet, Rosie found herself tired.
And then she felt someone come up behind her. She didn't hear their footsteps over the music, or see them by looking over her shoulder; she felt them. And she knew it was Jennie. She didn't have to look to know it was her; a shiver ran down her spine, Rosie's stomach lurched and she felt a lump form in her throat as she raised her glass to her lips and took a sip. Her whole body went tense and an ache strongly flared up in her heart. She didn't have to look.
"Hi," she quietly said, just loud enough to be heard, keeping her eyes trained forward.
"I've missed you," Jennie said from behind her, her voice trembling slightly as she softly replied.
Rosie's bottom lip wobbled as she let out a shaky breath, feeling a knot of tension unwind inside her. Her eyes prickled slightly and she didn't have the courage to turn around. She couldn't look at Jennie, or she knew that she would cave. Tears would well up and fall and the fragile threads keeping her together would snap, in front of this room full of people who didn't know that she was heartbroken over the woman standing just behind her. The woman that was supposed to be a complete stranger.
"I've missed you too," Rosie mumbled. She bit her lip, just hard enough to be painful, her heart fluttering in her chest, and she swallowed thickly.
Standing there in silence for a few moments, the music pulsing around them, bodies writhing on the dancefloor and people milling about with drinks in hand, they pretended that they weren't even aware of each other. But Rosie was so aware of Jennie that she could feel her. She could feel the rush of being around her, the anticipation of her next words, Jennie's voice punching right into her and leaving her speechless as she listened to the way her lips shaped words and her warm voice brought them to life. Missing her had never felt so painful, longing had never gripped her so tightly in its vice, and it was all she could do to stand rigidly beside the pillar she'd claimed and pretended that she wasn't aware of the woman she loved standing behind her.
And Rosie realised at that moment that there was only one thing left for her to do, and that was decide. But there was a part of her that wasn't sure if she even had a choice. Was it up to her to choose whether or not she forgave Jennie, or was she already in too deep that there was nothing else to do but let herself get swept away and caught up in their tumultuous relationship all over again. All she knew was that if it was a choice, she was finding less and fewer reasons to fight against what her heart was telling her. There was a part of Rosie that was still wounded, still hurt from the casual dismissal of their relationship, but she had the capacity to forgive Jennie. She could let her heart heal, she could let her make amends and try again.
She was tired of following the routine of her life with no feeling. As exciting as touring was, and visiting new places and going to endless amounts of parties, she wanted more, and Jennie was the one beautiful thing she'd gotten stuck on. It was like she was a rock, jutting out of the gently flowing river of her life, blocking the way and causing friction in the natural order of things. Everything had been running smoothly until they'd met until she'd been so caught up in a fairytale romance and hadn't been the same since. Not for the first time, Rosie wondered how much simpler things would've been without her, how grey her life would be without the colour that Jennie brought to it. It would've been smarter to walk away, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.
Drawing in a shuddering breath through trembling lips, Rosie closed her eyes, swallowing her nervousness, and heard herself speak before she could even stop herself. "Can we go somewhere?" Rosie asked. "Just you and me? Somewhere private?"
Her eyes snapped open at the gentle brush of a hand against hers, and she had to fight the urge to look down as a jolt of electricity ran through her. "I'm staying at the NoMad hotel. Until tomorrow."
Dipping her head in a quick nod, Rosie strode off without another word, her heart pounding with anticipation, and the feeling that she was making a mistake banished to the back of her mind as she slowly wandered back through the crowd. It wouldn't do to be seen leaving too early, or in a rush, and she took her time, pausing to talk to people, nursing a drink that was procured for her by someone at one point, feeling jittery and anxious as she lingered at the party.
Eventually, she decided to leave. Cheek kisses were exchanged, promises to get brunch or attend their next party were made, and she slipped out of the hotel to a chorus of her name being shouted by dozens of paparazzi held back from the door by barricades, camera flashes leaving white spots dancing across her eyes as she was hustled towards a waiting car by her personal bodyguard.
She was driven back to her hotel, before having a valet bring her rental car around to the front of the hotel and slipping into the front seat, relieving her bodyguard for the night as she drove off still wearing her dress. The Rolls Royce was steady beneath her touch, smoothly passing down busy New York streets as she followed the directions towards Jennie's hotel, the city alive around her, despite the fact that it was after midnight. New York famously never slept, and for the first time, she realised that she and Jennie weren't alone in their world of night. She couldn't go into her hotel, not with the risk of someone lurking about in the lobby. In hindsight, Rosie realised that she should've changed.
But when she pulled up outside of the tall building just north of Madison Square Park, she messaged Jennie and told her that she was outside, and smiled softly at the sight of the brunette woman quickly exiting the hotel in a red halter gown. When the door opened and a soft yellow light winked on, she turned to look at her, meeting her gaze as Jennie ducked down and peered into the car. Sliding in, she shut the door and buckled herself in in silence, and Rosie pulled out into traffic.
"Where are we going?" Jennie quietly asked after a few moments, and Rosie swallowed the nervous lump in her throat as she glanced in her side mirror and overtook a yellow cab.
"I thought we could head out of the city. Somewhere private."
"Okay."
They drove in silence, for the most part, the radio quietly playing as Rosie drove out of Manhattan and headed north out of New York City. Driving thirty miles out of the city, she headed towards Harriman State Park, an hour's drive away and offering the seclusion she craved and the secretive blanket of night. Two headlights shone through the darkness as she hit the beginnings of the park, and she quietly cleared her throat.
"I haven't heard from you in a while," Rosie hesitantly started.
Shifting in surprise, after such a long gap of silence, Jennie let out a loud, shaky laugh, breaking the tension slightly as she gave Rosie an astounded look of disbelief, a yearning in her deep brown eyes. "Because you told me not to call. But I really wanted to; I missed you every day."
Eyes flickering towards Jennie, Rosie felt hope blossom in her chest, while a sharp pain cut through her. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," Jennie whispered, her voice sad and full of longing and apology. "I'm sorry, Rosie. Really. I know it's ... it's not a good enough word to describe how deeply I'm ashamed of how I treated you, but ... I didn't mean to hurt you. I just- I wasn't in a good place, but I'm looking after myself better now."
"That's good," Rosie slowly said, her voice low and uneven as her stomach fluttered with nerves, "I'm glad that you're taking care of yourself. I'm glad you're okay."
Letting out a shaky laugh, Jennie tipped her head back against the headrest, and Rosie turned to look at her, taking in her closed eyes and the angle of her jaw, and the way her parted lips pouted slightly as she breathed slowly through them. She had the sudden urge to kiss her, knowing how soft those lips were, and had to clamp her hands down tighter on the steering wheel, navigating her way through the hills and switchback roads of the state park. It was too dark to see anything but the blur of briefly illuminated trees forming a seemingly solid wall on either side of them, but it reminded Rosie of their drives through the foothills of Miami, of the hushed quietness of the night and the peacefulness of someone else's company.
"That's the thing; I'm not okay. I'm more myself now, and I just- I miss you. Everything got a bit messed up there in Seattle - the role I had was just- it didn't put me in a good headspace - and now that I've had time to get back to where I was, I feel so alone without you. I'm me again, but there's still a piece missing. You."
Coming to a slow break in the middle of the road, with no concerns about anyone else driving along and disturbing them at three o'clock in the morning, Rosie closed her eyes, sitting stiffly in her seat, hands braced against the steering wheel as cool leather pressed up against her back. The truth was that she felt like that too. Jennie's name had repeated itself in her head over and over again, a constant train of thought in her head, and she knew that she wouldn't be able to think about anyone else in that way. And it was a dangerous game they were playing, risky and unreliable, but she wanted to take that chance.
Car idling, headlights shining two bright beams of light into the darkness as her eyes burned with tiredness in the late hours of the night, both of them wearing expensive dresses from a night that seemed like another world away from where they were parked, up in the hills on a sloping curve above the sparkling glint of the Hudson River, Rosie slowly turned to look at Jennie. They were all alone, worlds away from prying eyes and any problems that would inevitably try and wedge themselves between them, and Rosie wanted her. She wanted her so badly that she forgave her. And she told herself it wasn't worth it if it was safe. If there were no risks, nothing to lose, then it wouldn't have been worth it.
Slowly putting the car into park, she let herself get wrapped up in the daydream that it would work this time, hope filling her as she unbuckled her seatbelt and twisted in the driver's seat. Reaching out in the dim light from the sliver of moonlight filtering through the tinted windows, she cupped Jennie's cheek in her hand, gently smoothing her thumb over her high cheekbone and cherishing the warm feeling of her soft skin beneath her touch. Leaning in closer, Rosie paused, and Jennie was pulled closer to her, as if by gravity, until they were so close that she could feel Jennie's warm breath on her lips. And then their foreheads were resting against each other's, and Jennie's face swam out of focus until their lips were just out of reach, and Jennie's hands lightly traced the bare skin of Rosie's shoulders, the curve of her neck, the line of her jaw and curve of her ear. At that moment, she would've done anything Jennie asked her to. She just wanted to be touched by her, the way she'd missed being touched for months.
After a brief moment of hesitation, in which alarm shot through Rosie's mind and was quickly brushed aside, she made her decision, and as if she couldn't bear to not feel the touch of Jennie's lips on hers for even a moment longer, she closed the small space between them, her mouth hot and urgent on Jennie's, feeling her fingers gently dig into her arms and neck as the car suddenly felt small.
Pulling back slightly, her chest heaving as she breathed heavily, Rosie blinked back the burning sensation in her eyes as tears welled up, held at bay by her sheer stubbornness, and her voice cracked as she heard herself speak. "Stay," she softly pleaded in the quietness, the radio nothing but fuzzy static at their height, and she felt her heart ache as she was filled with so much hope that she couldn't bear the thought of being left again. "Please stay."
"I'm not going anywhere."
Sleep was all but forgotten about as they sat in the car, parked in the middle of the road with the stillness of the night around them, kissing and laughing in disbelief, their fingers tracing the lines of each other's faces, their eyes drinking in the sights, their ears cherishing the sound of quiet laughter and the way their lips formed words. It was like a bubble of unease had popped inside Rosie, and she suddenly felt as light as air, as if she was about to drift off in her euphoria as Jennie whispered how much she loved her and missed her against her neck, making her skin ripple with goosebumps.
It was nearly a two-hour drive back to Manhattan and to the restored Beaux-Arts building that housed the NoMad hotel, and Rosie followed Jennie inside, feeling bold and unwilling to let the rest of the night slip through her fingers. The lobby was empty, the front desk unmanned as the night manager was off in some back room, and Rosie trailed after her in a daze, up to Jennie's hotel room, where she found herself alone with her. It felt different after the confines of the car, a different kind of solitude, and Jennie moved slowly with a dancer's grace, kicking off her heels and reaching for her zipper.
The room was spacious, with a king-size bed covered in down comforters and an embossed leather headboard, maple hardwood floors and a vintage Heriz rug beneath the bed. A damask patterned folding screen stood in one corner, with a large freestanding claw-foot tub. It had a homey feeling with the mahogany writing desk, the carefully curated artwork dotting the walls, and the simple act of being there with the only person that had ever felt like a home to her. Of all the places she'd been and people she'd met, it was only Jennie who had offered that comfort of a safe harbour when things were getting hard. They understood each other completely.
Moving up behind her, Rosie's hand gently brushed against Jennie's, moving it aside as she cupped her back and felt the hummingbird fluttering of her heartbeat. With her heels on, she was the same height as Jennie standing barefoot, and Rosie pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, smiling as Jennie rolled her head to the side, baring the expanse of lightly tanned skin. Slowly unzipping her dress, Rosie took a step back and released her, swallowing thickly as Jennie turned, her brown eyes filled with wariness.
"I don't want to take it slow," Rosie admitted, her voice low and hoarse. "I forgive you, and now I just want you."
Hesitantly nodding, Jennie moved towards her, her dress pooling to the floor as she stepped out of it, and she gathered up Rosie's hands in her own, skimming her thumb across the knuckles. "I want you too, but I want to do it right this time. I want us to be serious, Rosie."
"I know," she mumbled.
But she didn't want Jennie to tiptoe around her and try and make amends for things. Rosie wanted everything to go back to the way it was before. She wanted that easy love, for the cracks in her heart to close up under Jennie's gentle touch, to feel warm and understood by someone that she understood too. There was so much she'd been missing, and she didn't want to dance around the truth, which was that she wanted Jennie. She didn't want to play a slow game, where they both played coy and pretended that they weren't already in love, where they spent weeks with Jennie trying to woo her with grand gestures in apology. That wasn't Rosie, and she knew her heart well. She just wanted the soft, quiet love she'd stumbled upon with Jennie.
But there were glaring obstacles, and she hands shook as Jennie's hand trailed over her shoulder as she stepped around Rosie, carefully undoing her dress for her too. Balling her hands into fists, Rosie let her dress crumple to the floor and was handed a fluffy guest robe, while Jennie went to make them tea. Making herself at home on the big bed, Rosie watched her move around in her underwear, her shoulders slightly taut with tension, although she moved around with the easy comfort of someone who was trying hard to diffuse the tension. A small smile twitched at the corner of Rosie's lips and she hugged her knees to her chest as she waited for Jennie to join her.
With a fragile cup in hand, Rosie let the warmth seep into her body as steam curled up from the tea, perfectly made to how she liked it. Jennie hadn't forgotten. She took a scalding sip to calm her nerves as the bed jostled and Jennie slipped beneath the covers, wearing a silk chemise, and she turned to look at her.
"I'm halfway through a tour," Rosie blurted out.
"I know."
"I leave at the end of the month, and I won't be back in Miami much and-"
Jennie gently laid her hand on Rosie's, her expression softening as her eyes swam with apology and a tinge on sadness. "I won't leave you again. We can- we can make it work this time if you give me a second chance."
"Okay."
They drank their tea and spoke in small bursts, filling the silence with anything and everything they thought of that had happened while they'd been apart until tiredness crept up on them and it was an effort to keep their burning eyes open.
Pre-dawn grey light was slanting through the parted curtains by the time they finally drifted off to sleep. Too tired for her usual caution, Rosie nodded off in Jennie's bed, on a mountain of soft pillows and a warmth pressed up against her, and when she flung one arm out across the bed, it fell against the solid figure sleeping beside her.
-
"You forgave her, just like that?"
"Just like that."
Nayeon's eyebrows rose slightly and Rosie could almost read her thoughts through the mild surprise on her face. Smiling, she gave her a knowing look, arching one eyebrow slightly.
"I know that I've been painted as this vindictive woman who loves to get revenge on those who've wronged her, but that's ... well it's not always true. And there seems to be this whole culture about not being allowed to forgive people. People act as if anyone who's ever done anything wrong in their life has to spend the rest of it atoning for their mistakes, and it's just- it's not realistic. And it's funny to me because growing up Catholic, you have to do penance for everything , and we're taught that we're all sinners and you have to be punished and make amends before you're absolved of your sins ... but that's not how real life works. People make mistakes, and you can decide whether you forgive them or not."
"So you decided to forgive her?"
"I did. I gave her a second chance and I didn't regret it for a moment. Was I still mad? A little. Was I still hurt? Yes, but enough time had passed that I was at a place where I could forgive her. I loved her, completely and wholeheartedly, and I chose to forgive her and love her, despite the mistakes that she made. And God knows she forgave me and loved me for mine. And I think that's what it comes down to; a choice. I think it says more about love that you choose to commit to something, no matter the obstacles, no matter the temptations and risks, over and over again, every day, than never having a choice at all. People have mistaken love for passion, and they can go hand in hand, but love isn't just a feeling , it's not a strong, uncontrollable emotion. It's something you have to work at, and Jennie had messed up, and she was sorry, and I wasn't about to punish her for that. I wanted us to work at fixing what we'd broken, and you can't do that when you're throwing people's wrongdoings back in their face all the time. There has to be trust, there has to be acceptance and forgiveness for each other's flaws."
"Has there ever been a time when she's broken that trust?"
Softly exhaling, Rosie pressed her lips into a flat line, a brooding look lurking in her eyes. "Yes and no. I've always trusted her to love me, and she always has, and I've always trusted in that. But sometimes she's broken my heart in the process, and that leaves doubts in your mind. No matter how many times someone tells you they love you, the instant that they leave, for what feels like good, it essentially nullifies all of that comfort and warmth. It's like in a heartbeat you doubt whether they ever truly meant it. Words carry weight to them, and being careless with your words can scar you for years."
"But you trusted her each time."
Giving her a crooked smile, Rosie nodded, "I'm a trusting person. I like to give everyone the benefit of the doubt; it hasn't always been the smartest decision. The way I see it though, I can either let people change me, make me distrustful and distant and suspicious, or I can be the person I am and learn from my experiences. And I know which version of myself I prefer."
"Doesn't it hurt though, to be betrayed by people you trusted? I'm not speaking of Jennie in this instance, but there was a time when you trusted people who abandoned you in a rough patch. Didn't that make you want to not trust anyone?"
"Of course, and I have become a lot warier. Even back then, giving Jennie a second chance, I was a lot more naive and inexperienced, but I've grown since then. I prefer to grow , not change , and I think that's a natural process of growing up, and it never made me want to not give Jennie another chance, it just gave me the experience to know what worked and what didn't in our relationship."
"What didn't work?"
Rosie let out a surprised laugh at Nayeon's straightforwardness, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she shook her head slightly in a bemused fashion. "Distance, for one. I think that we'll focus on that for now, because that was the first problem, and the second time around, it was still a problem. As I said, I was on tour, and we had to try and work visits back to Miami to see each other again. Sometimes I'd only be back for a few hours before I flew out again. It was hard, but I knew by then what Jennie needed in her relationship, and that was affection. She needed that physical intimacy, and I think being so secretive was hard for her too because we couldn't just hold hands in public. Not then. But we worked hard to see each other as often as possible, without anyone finding out, and we were managing."
"What did you need?"
"Ah, see, that's the thing. I didn't need anything. Despite what people say, I've never been the kind of person who needed to be dating someone. I've apparently dated every man in Hollywood - an endless string of them - but for me, I never had to have someone to love. Some people do, and that's fine, but for me, I was fine by myself. I would be heartbroken in the off- periods with Jennie, but I had my life, and I had my career, and sometimes I'd chosen my career over her, and I was content with that. I was happy with my songwriting and connecting with all of my fans and living the life I'd always dreamed of for myself. It didn't mean it didn't hurt and I didn't want more, but that's the thing; it's never been about what I needed , but what I wanted , and she's all I ever wanted. It's always been the same since I met her."
She paused for a moment, her eyebrows drawn low over her jade eyes as she ran a thumb over one of the rings she was wearing, a sort of lost and troubled look on her face, almost as if she'd quite forgotten where she was, and the audience of the crew were invisible beyond the small bubble her and Nayeon's conversation had created. Rosie felt so far removed from the space in her apartment, from the interview, as the story built up inside her. She'd been speaking for what felt like forever, so caught up in a flood of memories, of conflicting feelings as old wounds reopened and old kisses were remembered as ghostly touches against her pale skin. There were a thousand memories she didn't reveal, the small things that seemed so insignificant to the tale she was weaving together but had been so consequential at the time. Those memories utterly consumed her as she sat in the armchair, and thought back on all those decisions she'd made with Jennie. It would've been easy to walk away at any point, but she'd committed herself to the woman she loved, and she chose to stay at every point. She would always make that decision.
"I think," Rosie suddenly said, breaking her quiet moment of deep thought, her voice low and soft, "I think ... perhaps we weren't really committed the first time around. It was so short- lived that I don't think we had time to really figure anything out, aside from how we felt about each other. We loved each other when it was convenient for us to, and when work got in the way, it was an inconvenience . This time around, we were committed. We didn't make excuses, we just worked harder to make it work, and it was easy because loving her was always so effortless."
She hesitated again, swallowing thickly before she let out a flat laugh, a stab of pain in her chest. "It didn't matter though; it ended, as all things do, in heartbreak. To me, the worst part about being human is that we can't go back. We can't change what we did, what we said, the decisions that we made that we would come to regret. I think we could've loved each other forever if I'd been able to go back, change my mind and fix things, but I couldn't, and we'd hurt each other too much to mend it easily. All I hoped was that if I came across that moment again, I'd do it the right way. But I didn't."