In dreams, I meet you in warm conversation
We both wake in lonely beds, different cities
And time is taking its sweet time erasing you And you've got your demons
And darling, they all look like me
'Cause we had a beautiful magic love there
What a sad, beautiful, tragic love affair
Distance, timing, breakdown, fighting
Silence, the train runs off its tracks
Kiss me, try to fix it, could you just try to listen?
Hang up, give up, and for the life of us we can't get back
-
"That song was about remembering all the things we'd done together, those small moments that stuck out. It's not until you lose someone that you think about how much you miss dancing in the kitchen with them at midnight, or making their coffee for them just how they like it. And I thought it'd get easier with time ... but it didn't."
"How did you manage it? I mean, as you said, the Grammy's were coming up and you that's one of the biggest events of the year, and you were nominated, performing. Obviously, you showed up. But what was that like for you? To be going through so much in your personal life and having to hide it."
Blowing the air out of her lungs, Rosie shrugged helplessly as she shook her head, unable to articulate it.
"I don't know," she softly said, a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes curling one side of her mouth, "I just- I knew I didn't have a choice. It was ... hard. Breakups are always hard. And being in the spotlight with such a big secret ... well, it was- I couldn't tell anyone. I couldn't just put my career on hold to curl up in bed as I'd already spent a month doing. They don't care about things like that; they only care that you show up to your scheduled events and cash-in on whatever project you've agreed to for even an ounce of publicity."
"I imagine it made you resent your life, just a little," Nayeon hedged.
With a laugh, Rosie looked up towards the ceiling as she rubbed at her forehead, wishing she'd taken the Diazepam when it had been offered to her. She was starting to get a headache and was so keyed up with tension as she dwelled in painful memories that she could feel it taking its toll on her.
"Just a little," she murmured in amusement, "or perhaps just the circumstances of my life. If I'd been anyone else, if she'd been anyone else, we would've been in a very different position. And I can't say that we would've been better off, because I don't know what struggles we would've had then, but I know that this wouldn't have been one of them. We wouldn't have had to hide from the whole world. "
-
Day in and day out for the next two weeks, Rosie rehearsed. She spent countless hours going through the limited choreography of Mean , the song she'd chosen as a sly dig at a critic who'd slammed her before, catching up with her band and finding some sense of comfort with them. She'd toured with most of them since the Fearless tour, and they'd been like her family in the earlier years of her career, splitting up and coming back together every era for the next tour or performance.
In a way, Rosie was glad that they were there because it gave her an excuse to be distracted by other people. She realized how much she'd been isolating herself, even back in London, and it struck her as a good idea to perhaps call some of her friends who were in town. Perhaps surrounding herself with the company of other people would help her forget about Jennie, just for a few hours here and there.
But for the time being, she rehearsed and trained. Rosie hadn't even finished her album yet, but it was clear that she'd be touring for it, which meant that she spent hours on the treadmill every day, when she wasn't practicing her performance, trying to maintain her fitness levels to be able to parade up and down a stage for a couple of hours. It gave her an outlet for her emotions, feet pounding on the machine as she ran until she couldn't think until she felt like she was going to drop. And still, she didn't sleep and barely ate.
It was with weary resignation that the day of the Grammy's came around, and after a sleepless night, Rosie was sitting outside on the balcony of her hotel room in Los Angeles, watching the sunrise with a cup of strong coffee in her hands as Hank sniffed at wilting magnolia petals strewn across the patio. Her mind was fuzzy and she was slumped with exhaustion, unable to even bring herself to care about her performance that evening.
Her team would be here soon, hair and makeup tutting over the state of her as they tried to cover her bags and cut her bangs back so that her hair stopped falling in her eyes. She wondered what they would say when the dress that had been tailored for her was just a little too baggy in all the wrong places, what Hyeri would have to say about her glum attitude. Rosie wasn't looking forward to a lecture about her media training, a repeat of everything that had been drilled into her since she was a teenager, warnings to not make mistakes or slip-ups and another hundred things weighing down heavily on her to remember as she walked the red carpet.
But in that moment, it was just her, alone. She breathed in the crisp early morning air, the grey clouds parting to reveal the salmon dawn over the busy city as it came to life below, and she closed her eyes as she basked in the cool breeze on her face. It was mid-February, and she felt no better after six weeks without Jennie. It felt like a piece of her was missing, and when she slept, she woke in her bed all alone, knowing that Jennie was doing the same on the other side of the world, and there would be no end to that cycle. She wasn't coming back in a few weeks to be with her like they'd planned; the only time she ever came back was in dreams. It was why Rosie didn't sleep.
There were just so many different emotions inside her that she couldn't even comprehend what she was feeling. With a little bit of time to reflect on, she was angry at Jennie, so angry , but she missed her and was devastated at the fact that she'd lost her. And Rosie wanted to forget that she'd ever met her, but it was impossible. She was considering buying another house, just to get away from the confines of her current one, where she felt drowned by memories of Jennie, even though she'd only spent brief moments there with her. They were painful enough.
Brooding for most of the morning, Rosie eventually made her way back inside her room, stiff and fatigued and too full of thoughts to be able to ignore them. She ended up with her guitar in her lap, lying on the floor of her hotel room as she stared up at the white ceiling, tapping a pencil against her lip as she ran over some new lyrics. They weren't lighthearted lyrics of love songs; they were darker, sadder, bittersweet, and Rosie felt like crying as she filled pages with stray sentences, venting all of her frustration.
She wasn't disturbed until early afternoon, when there was a knock on the door and Rosie groaned as she climbed to her feet, running her hand through her tangled hair as she made her way to the door. Hyeri was already letting herself in with the spare keycard by the time she reached it, giving her an appraising look as she took in the haggard look of her client.
"Well I hope you're not going to be carrying yourself like that tonight," Hyeri said as she took in Rosie's stooped shoulders and morose expression.
"Don't worry, I'm sure the dream team will work magic on me," Rosie drily replied. "Best get in the shower before they get here. Irene's already on her way with the dress."
Nodding, Rosie left her to help herself to the contents of the fridge and made her way towards the marble bathroom. Lingering beneath the steam until her skin was reddened and cheeks flushed, Rosie finally emerged when she knew someone would be banging on the door soon to tell her to hurry up. Drying herself off, she wrapped herself in a fluffy bathrobe and made her way out to the kitchen.
Irene was there with Hyeri, both of them drinking sparkling water at the breakfast bar, a black garment bag hanging up nearby. Rosie ignored it and gave her manager a small smile, looking over at the beauty team setting up in the light of spilling in through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the living room.
To her exasperation, Rosie soon found herself sitting on a chair while her hair was trimmed, dried and sprayed with a dozen products and then slicked back into a bun. Her makeup artist clicked her tongue as she covered Rosie's face with concealer, especially beneath her eyes, while Rosie sat still and let the conversation wash over her. She was used to this routine, and while usually would be an animated addition to the conversation as they laughed and bantered in a familiar way, but she was tired, feeling her eyes struggling to stay open as her face was beat and contoured until she looked like a new person.
She put her heels on and then stood in her underwear, leaning on Hyeri and the hair stylist, while Irene helped her into the dress. It went on easily, as she'd suspected, a little loose around the waist and hips, but it wasn't noticeable over the embroidery. It was a golden embellished high- collared dress by Zuhair Murad, made of nude silk and thousands of sequins. There were cutouts at the back and it made her seem taller than she was, the look accentuated by the thinness of her wiry arms.
"You look like you're about to drop where you're standing," Hyeri huffed as Rosie stood in the kitchen with them, trying not to smudge her nude lipstick as she drank sparkling water and blinked back the burning feeling in her eyes.
Rifling through her handbag, her publicist came up with a white plastic pill bottle and shook out two of them, holding out the white pills in the middle of her palm. "Here, take these."
"What are they?" Rosie hesitantly asked.
"Modafinil. They'll keep you alert and enhance your mood. Quick, the car will be here soon."
Glancing out the window, taking in the first streaks of dusk as the sky darkened and the city lights glistened, Rosie put the pills in her mouth and knocked them back with the sparkling water, the taste of black cherry and powdery chemical taste of the pills mingling on her tongue. She didn't question their safety, knowing that it was Hyeri's job to make sure she was at the top of her game for interviews and wouldn't give her anything that could impair that.
In fact, as Rosie found herself being bundled out of the hotel room, Irene carrying her purse, a long camel coloured cashmere coat being thrown over her shoulders against the chill air- conditioned hallway, her mind felt less sluggish and she felt more alert as she blinked owlishly. They made their way down from the penthouse to the lobby of the luxurious hotel, people stopping to stare as she swept across the floor with her team of people rushing her along. Sliding into the cool interior of the black town car parked on the verge outside the front doors, Rosie was brimming with sudden energy and elevated mood, her mind running faster than her body, and she felt a little off-kilter at the sudden change in her mood.
She listened with rapt attention to the lectures and reminders off her team as they drove towards the venue, night falling quickly as they wove in and out of traffic. Anticipation was heavy in the air in the car, and Rosie allowed herself to sit back and relax, turning over her thoughts with a new perspective on them. She'd been so exhausted and heartsick thinking about Jennie, but she felt refreshed and somewhat detached from her heartbreak as the pills came into effect.
It didn't change her feelings, but she found herself looking at them from a different angle, before coming to the conclusion that she missed Jennie more terribly than ever. What they'd had had been beautiful, and it was one of the greatest tragedies of her life to have let it slip through her fingers, and it saddened her even as the pills warred against her feelings.
By the time her car was waved through the barricades closing off the street for the event, she found herself bolstered by the pills, restless and eager for the night to be over. There was an after-party, of course, which she'd be making an appearance at, but Rosie wasn't expecting anything great from the evening. Except for perhaps a few drinks of the sly when there were no photographers around to try and spin her into a party girl.
The car door was opened for her and Hyeri climbed out first while the clamouring of reporters and paparazzi suddenly overwhelmed Rosie. Irene followed suit and then Rosie slipped out, hidden by the two women as they made quick work of arranging the skirt of her dress before she was left to face the length of red carpet running towards the doors.
Plastering a smile to her face, Rosie raised her hand in a wave as a photographed called out to her, and with her shoulders back, swept along the carpet, making her towards the backdrop where other celebrities in the music industry were already posing. Her team left her to it, holding her coat and purse as she posed for the camera flashes, a smile on her face as she slowly made her way down the line. Rosie waved at people she knew, meeting them halfway as they hugged and exchanged polite cheek kisses, and allowed herself to get dragged into more than one interview for popular celebrity networks and news sites.
And then she ran into Park Chanyeol. Rosie had known he would be there, to sit beside her as the man who had signed her, taking her wins as a personal win for himself, and Rosie had to keep the smile on her face as she hugged him. It had been a while since she'd last seen him, and there was a tension in the charged air between them, a sort of bitter resentment lingering inside Rosie. In so many ways, she blamed him for her inability to come out. It was his contract that kept her silent, and she found it hard to play along with the charade of niceties as cameras flashed and they chatted.
She'd gone to the pre-telecast award show a few days beforehand, wearing a Dolce & Gabbana dress as she accepted two of her awards, and she got to pose with them both on the red carpet, cradling the golden gramophones as she smiled for the cameras. Giving them back, she rejoined her team and they made their way inside, and a short while later the show started.
Sitting in the dark, the proceedings washed over her, and Rosie was content to wait for the last category she was nominated for to be called, enjoying the performances and smiling at the jokes. It was long, but she was wide awake, thrumming with energy as she shifted restlessly in her seat. Eventually, she had to slip out of her row to sneak backstage and get ready for her own performance.
In her dressing room, she shed her golden gown in exchange for a loose vintage floral dress with a petticoat, her hair let down and plaited to the side and her heels kicked off for brown heeled oxfords. Bangs messily arranged in artful disarray, her lipstick was touched up and Rosie was left to wait a short while, before walking through the backstage hallways to wait in the wings of the stage.
Her band was all there, wearing homespun vintage clothes that made them all look like country folk, and they huddled together for their usual pep talk before a performance before an electric guitar banjo was slipped over Rosie's head and they all stepped out onto the dark stage to take their places.
She performed Mean on a raised platform, against a rustic backdrop of broken shutters, doors, ladders and planks, milk pails and barrels and broken furniture lying around for band members to artfully arrange themselves on. A vintage microphone stood before her, and Rosie was illuminated by a bright spotlight as she sang the words she'd performed a hundred times before, a wry smile on her face as she changed up the lyrics, her fingers finding the frets with familiar ease. Adrenaline coursed through her, amplified by the pills, and she felt so alive as she performed, eyes almost feverishly bright.
That was what she was here to do. Performing was who she was. It made her heartbreak the tiniest bit more bearable to find herself on stage after so many weeks off, knowing that this was what she was good at, what she'd chosen over the flighty romance with Jennie. In a few weeks, she'd be in Australia to wrap up the Speak Now World Tour and Rosie felt emboldened by the knowledge as she sang and played along with the bluegrass music of her band.
As the song came to a close and the stage was flooded with light, she was greeted with the sight of a standing ovation and couldn't help but glow with pride, eyes creasing at the corners as she smiled brightly, cheeks pink flushed with happiness. The rush of performing never got old, and as she made her way off stage, trembling as her pulse raced and her chest heaved breathlessly, she couldn't wait to do it again.
The rest of the night passed by quickly, and Rosie didn't even feel the loss of her other nomination as she dwelled in her state of euphoric alertness. For weeks now, she'd been sluggish and cocooned in her heartbreak, but she emerged for that night and found herself eager for the after-party. She shook her babysitters at the event hosted by InStyle at the Chateau Marmont, the placed crowded with the early arrivals and made her way deeper inside.
At the bar, she ordered herself an Aperol Spritz, draining it quickly in the gloom of the fringes of the party, feeling the liquor burn her throat and warm in her stomach, before ordering another drink and draining that one as well. Not much of a dancer, Rosie fell into conversation with a few people she knew in the industry, kissing cheeks as introductions were made and photos were taken. At one point, she thought she saw Jennie in the crowd, and her stomach lurched before she realised it was just another brunette woman.
Her head was spinning from the rush of alcohol on her empty stomach by the time she bumped into a tall figure in a dark suit, stumbling slightly before big hands steaded her. Laughing as she thanked the person, she looked up to see a familiar face looking down at her with surprise, her own eyebrows rising swiftly before she reached out to grip Jungkook's shoulders.
"Jungkook!"
"Rosie," he warmly greeted her, leaning down to kiss her cheek, "you look lovely. How've you been?"
Waving a hand dismissively, Rosie laughed again, eyes bright with pain and alcohol, and smiled up at him. "How were the holidays?"
"Good. I went back to London for a bit."
"Yeah? I just got back."
"I guess we missed each other. Drink?"
Readily accepting the offer, Rosie let him usher her towards the bar and order two Cosmos before they clinked glasses and he congratulated her on her wins. They fell into easy conversation, and Rosie was nearly overcome with relief at just how easy it was, laughter spilling from her lips as they sipped their drinks and watched the dancefloor writhe with some of the biggest names in Hollywood.
He'd been working on some new songs, playing small gigs over Europe and some in America, his fame rapidly growing, and Rosie smiled fondly as she recalled days like that. It was good to talk to someone else who understood, who was in a place she'd stood a few years ago, in the same shoes in terms of the amount of freedom and pressure. Jungkook didn't know about her and Jennie, or even just about her, and Rosie didn't tell him in the crowded bar, but she felt as if they were kindred spirits at that moment as they drank and laughed and talked about the places they'd been and the songs they wanted to write.
"I'm flying back to Miami tomorrow," Rosie blurted out. "You should come to my house to write with me. If you want."
Dark eyes widening slightly in surprise, Jungkook blinked and stood there for a moment, mouth opening and closing, before he laughed. "I- yeah. Yeah, that'd be amazing. I'm flying back there too on Tuesday for a photoshoot. Shall we call it Friday?"
"Friday," Rosie said in agreement, raising her glass to clink it against his.
He smiled and they stood at the bar, leaning against it for a few moments before he suddenly looked down at her.
"Want to dance?"
Hesitating, she bit her bottom lip, swirling the dregs of her drink around in her glass. She didn't like dancing, had never been one to go out of her way to dance, and the only person she'd ever danced with of her own volition, had loved it even, had been Jennie. Yet Jennie wasn't there, and Rosie paused for a moment as confusion welled up within her, before she decided to accept his offer.
It didn't matter if she only wanted to dance with Jennie, spinning each other around in the glow of the fridge in her kitchen or moving the furniture aside as they blasted old music, because Jennie wasn't there, but Rosie had the urge to just toss all her troubles aside. She'd dance despite everything they'd been through, she'd dance with Jungkook as if Jennie was jealously watching from the shadows, and she knew it wouldn't make her feel better that it wasn't Jennie she was dancing with, but at least it was something.
They danced all night, laughing and jumping around as the DJ's played track after track until Rosie's skin was covered in a damp sweat and her makeup was smudged and her bangs had started escaping the slicked back bun. It was mindless fun and a welcome distraction.
She left long after midnight, her cashmere coat thrown around her shoulders, Irene rushing her past the lingering paparazzi and throngs of fans as she gave them bright smiles, and was quickly bundled into the back of the waiting car. Despite the fact that she hadn't slept in days, the pills were still in her system and Rosie blinked owlishly in the dark as she adjusted to the gloom, sinking back in her seat, wide awake with no intention of slowing down just yet.
"Well ... that all went better than expected. Well done," Hyeri said, shoulders slumped with exhaustion as she finally let her guard down.
She was like a watchdog at events, waiting to drag Rosie out of an interview at the slightest hint of a misstep, and she ran a hand over her face as she finally relaxed. Rosie gave her a wan smile as she hugged the coat around herself, watching the glow of the city race past as they headed back to their hotel.
"You and Jeon Jungkook seemed to be having a lot of fun."
"Mhm."
"He's handsome too."
"Yeah."
"Have you thought about-"
"If you're about to ask if I've thought about dating him, you might want to revisit the meeting we had a while ago about the fact that I'm a lesbian. You know, how I only like women. But seeing as I'm sure you weren't about to say that, go ahead."
Hyeri fell silent for a moment, lips pressed together in a flat line as she was chastened, and Irene gave Rosie a hard look, quickly checking to make sure the partition was up. Sighing heavily, her expression softened into one of exasperation.
"You know, he'd make a good PR stunt."
"Ah, so you are trying to pair us up."
"It's just something to think about," Irene soothingly explained, "for the next time you get into a relationship. It'll allow you some ... freedom."
Letting out a derisive snort of laughter, Rosie rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she reached up to brush stray hairs out of her face. "It's not freedom, it's just a different sort of lie. Besides, he's my friend; I wouldn't want to use him like that."
Pausing for a moment, Rosie glanced sideways at her manager, "he's coming to my house to write on Friday."
"Oh. Oh, well that's- that's good! I'll make sure no one interrupts."
Nodding cordially, Rosie leaned against the door and watched the streets flash by until they eventually came to a stop outside her hotel. It was early hours in the morning, the night dark and interrupted by the glow of hotels and take-outs and bars, and she murmured her goodnights before making her way upstairs to her penthouse.
Hank greeted her at the door with excited circles run around her and Rosie smiled as she shed the cashmere coat, heading further into the suite and tossing it over the back of an upholstered chair. Kicking off her heels, she dropped down to her knees in her embroidered gown and scratched the puppy beneath the chin, feeling some of the tension inside her dissipate.
Ordering coffee from room service, Rosie shed her dress, throwing that over a chair too, and dressed in a pair of monogrammed pyjamas and silk slippers and took her makeup off, before she retreated to the balcony. Sitting at a table overlooking the soaring skyscrapers lit up against the velvety blanket of night, she felt drained yet wide awake. It wasn't a physical exhaustion, but the feeling of spending too much time around other people, and she ran a hand over her face, looking ashen and drawn.
A man in a white tuxedo wheeled a tray into her suite after rapping on the door and being admitted by Rosie's shout, and she sat outside, legs up on the railing of the balcony, drinking rich Turkish coffee from the French press and waited for the sun to rise. It was quiet and Kuma lay curled up on another chair beside her, and Rosie thought about Jennie as she sat wide awake, knowing that she'd already be awake in Europe.
On a whim, she checked her phone, scrolling through the endless notifications of congratulations off friends and family alike. There was a missed call off Clare, another off her father too, and a text off Alice. And there, another at the bottom off Jennie, and it made her heart clench painfully in her chest as she opened it to stare down at the single word.
Congratulations x
-
"I was awake for forty hours after that," Rosie sighed heavily, looking worn and small at that moment as she curled up on the armchair. "The pills helped to an extent, but the comedown was ... hard. They don't really have much of a side effect, except that you're going to need a good long sleep, but the way my emotions were all over the place ... it was rough."
"Did you take them often?"
Rosie shook her head, giving Nayeon a droll smile. "No. No, nothing like that. Not often at
all. Only when I was in a bad place and I needed to be at the top of my game for interviews and the like. It wasn't often things lined up badly enough for that. But that was a long few days for me. I flew back to Miami, although I couldn't tell you a single moment of that trip, and I passed out for nearly two days. I was just ... exhausted. Heartbreaks are tiring."
"Was it just the heartbreak? I mean, it sounds like you were under a lot of pressure anyway."
"I was," Rosie admitted, chewing on the inside of her bottom lip for a moment, "but it didn't help that I couldn't help myself process this properly. And it wasn't the kind of thing that warranted getting help for, because everyone goes through breakups and the like, but I felt like I was falling apart, but they wouldn't let me."
Nayeon gave her a sympathetic look, mouth set in a grim line as she propped her chin up in her cupped palm, elbow on the arm of her own armchair. "They did a good job of keeping it under wraps. Clearly."
With a sharp laugh, Rosie arched an eyebrow as she smiled sardonically. They'd kept it so tightly under wraps that not even a whisper of it had managed to get out. No one knew about her ended relationship, about the insomnia, the lack of appetite or how she holed herself up in her house. As far as the rest of the world was aware, Rosie was just resting after holiday excitement and rehearsals to get back on tour.
"I was devastated, you know. A complete wreck. And all the headlines were saying was how good I looked. I was barely eating, barely sleeping, and all they cared about was that I looked thin on the red carpet. Dolled up in so much makeup to hide how bad I looked, wearing gowns that distracted them from the fact that I'd lost so much weight, and how I wasn't behaving like myself because I was on mood-enhancing pills. No one even knew how much pressure I was under to not fall apart; no one even knew how badly I was suffering."