Spinning like a girl in a brand new dress
We had this big wide city all to ourselves
We blocked the noise with the sound of 'I need you'
And for the first time I had something to lose
And I guess we fell apart in the usual way
And the story's got dust on every page
But sometimes I wonder how you think about it now
And I see your face in every crowd
Cause darling, it was good never looking down And right there where we stood was holy ground
Tonight I'm gonna dance for all that we've been through
But I don't wanna dance if I'm not dancing with you
Tonight I'm gonna dance like you were in this room
But I don't wanna dance if I'm not dancing with you
-
"So you never even tried to date anyone in between. Or since?"
With a grim look of ire, Rosie shook her head, "no. And I know perhaps that might seem strange to most people, that I'm so sure when I've never really given anyone else a chance, but ... well, the first person I dated messed with my head so much that I lost that spark of romance. And Jennie's the only person who's ever been able to bring that back."
Rosie let out a hesitant laugh as she bit her bottom lip for a moment, before giving Nayeon a sheepish look.
"I've had crushes; I know what they feel like. I've had my friends try and set me up with beautiful women, and it just- it's nothing in comparison. They're some of the loveliest people I've ever met, but none of them have ever held a candle to Jennie's flame. She makes me feel ... everything. I spent so much of my life struggling to accept myself, hiding it, and then being manipulated, and then I found her and it was like a light came on. It was just ... it was that small realisation like oh it's you!"
Her cheeks reddened slightly with embarrassment as she struggled to explain, recalling all of the ways that Jennie had ever made her feel warm and understood, the way she'd laughed at all of Rosie's jokes and knew every inch of her. It was a feeling that no one else had ever given her, no matter how well they knew her. It was more than who she was; it was just Jennie.
"And it's not like I spent all this time waiting for her to come back. I had my own life, my own career to focus on, and life went on when she left. But I wasn't interested in looking for anyone else, and not always because I was holding onto the hope that she'd come back - even though she always did - it was just the fact that I wasn't interested in anyone. There were women I could've taken home, could've enjoyed the company of, but I wouldn't have been able to love them. It was like that light would just switch off and I'd feel so alone. I'd be in a crowded room with all of my friends and my family, people who knew me so well, but there was the knowledge that they'd never know me like she did."
"It can be an isolating industry sometimes."
"It really is," Rosie faintly sighed, "the restrictions, the rules, the dieting and exercising, the PR stunts and calling the paparazzi. It can all feel like you're a puppet being controlled, while no one actually takes an interest in who you are. They'll congratulate you with fake smiles on their faces, you get asked how you are but no one really cares about the answer because it shouldn't be anything less than positive because you're just so lucky. A lot of my life has felt like an ongoing act. Constantly being in the spotlight since sixteen can be very damaging, and I think the fear of disappointing everyone was one of the main factors that kept me in line. I wasn't at liberty to be like a Disney star who went off the rails, or one of those boyband stars who were arrested for drugs and photographed in an absolute state coming out of bars. Being a woman already puts so much pressure on you to behave perfectly, to never mess up, but then there was the different demographics that Park Chanyeol wanted for my fanbase."
Nayeon nodded as she listened, her eyes lighting up as she seized the last part of Rosie's sentence before she could keep talking.
"That fanbase being partly made up of Republicans."
"Yes," Rosie admitted, her mouth turning down at the corners. "And that was difficult for me to come to terms with. Of course, country music has always been very popular in the south, and I suppose my brand of folk music was comparable to that. And it wasn't just the Republican part, but the fact that religion goes so strongly hand in hand with those people. And on top of that, I was Catholic. It was very clear to me from the start that there was a part of my fanbase that would hate the real me. And that mindset, that knowledge, can be very damaging, especially when trying to come to terms with the fact that I could never love who I wanted to without impacting my career."
"Obviously that's less of a concern for you now."
With a rueful smile, Rosie arched an eyebrow. "It was never my concern. I wasn't allowed to talk about politics, and that included my existence as a lesbian woman. Being myself would've been a political statement and would've alienated a lot of fans. I was contractually obligated to keep quiet about anything that could harm the reputation they made for me, and I think the fear about my career failing didn't come from myself; it was instilled in me by Chanyeol and people at my label. My team tried their best to accommodate both sides, but it was still very clear to me that I couldn't mess it up. Jennie and I had the entirety of Miami at our disposal, but we were left searching for the little spots to hide away with each other. Our own little secret places set aside for us to escape prying eyes. Until we broke that rule."
-
No matter how hard Rosie tried, she couldn't shake the thought of Jennie. After she'd left early that morning, Rosie had gone straight to bed, collapsing on top of the rumpled covers, arms and legs splayed out and promptly passed out for much of the day.
When she woke, it was from a dream about Jennie's lips pressed to her shoulder, reaching out for the ghost of the person occupying her dream, and finding herself disappointed upon discovering the bed empty. Yet the smell of her clung to the pillows, and Rosie buried her face in one of them, feeling oddly well-rested.
Days passed in a daze and she couldn't concentrate on anything. She was haunted by the ghostly feeling of Jennie's lips on her skin, the memories of how soft her skin felt, by the coat that Rosie found abandoned in her kitchen the next evening. As much as she said she needed time, Rosie was almost desperate to see Jennie again. If it wasn't for the small voice of caution at the back of her mind, she might've called her again immediately, asked her out to talk things over, but she didn't. It was almost painful, the longing that seized her heart and twisted her stomach uncomfortably. Just like that, she was back in Jennie's thrall.
And it wasn't anything to do with Jennie's influence on her; Rosie was just in love with her. Jennie hadn't asked anything of her, not in as many words, yet Rosie was almost at the tipping point of throwing her lot in with her again and letting her ruin her. It seemed worth it.
As it was, she went for long walks to try and clear her mind, to subdue the restless urges to call Jennie, to shake the evocative feelings burning hotly within her as she thought about Jennie's bruised lips and blown pupils as she hovered over her. She walked down sidewalks, thumbing her bitten lips as she thought about how she'd kissed her, catching glimpses of brunette hair in the throngs of people going about their day, and each time it made Rosie's stomach lurch as her heart stumbled, thinking that it was Jennie for a brief moment.
She was distracted to the point where she couldn't even write, and not because she had nothing to write about, but because she couldn't concentrate. And all Rosie could think about was how they'd fallen apart and what Jennie thought about it because they hadn't really gotten to the point the other night. They'd vented their frustrations and regrets, but they'd never made it to the serious conversation, and then they'd stopped talking altogether.
It was late Sunday evening when she finally plucked up the courage to phone Jennie. To resist was futile, and the sooner they got to the bottom of things, the better. Rosie couldn't think straight, and it was the only way she knew she'd be able to get a grip. So she stood outside in the grey day, feeling the nervous fluttering of her heart in her chest, and pressed the ringing phone to her ear. She couldn't say why she was nervous, after all, they'd been through so much together already, but she was.
"Hello?"
"Hi," Rosie said, her voice soft and light, a smile involuntarily curling her lips, "it's me."
"How're you?"
"I'm good," Rosie murmured.
Pausing slightly, Rosie let out a shaky laugh and smoothed down her bangs as the wind ruffled her hair.
"Actually, I've, uh, I've been thinking about you. A lot. It's driving me a bit mad, to be quite honest."
Warmth bloomed in her chest at the sound of Jennie's laughter, followed by a soft sigh.
"Yeah, me too."
"I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee with me?"
"Coffee? Like at a café."
"I've heard they're the best places to get coffee."
"Like ... now?"
Eyebrows rising slightly, Rosie smiled to herself as she leant against the wooden post of the pergola. "Are you busy right now?"
"No, I just- well, it's still pretty early."
Staring out at the deep grey sky and the approaching dusk, Rosie pursed her lips for a moment, a clouded expression in her brown eyes. "Yes, it is."
"And ... we'll be in public."
"Well, I haven't booked out a café for us, if that's what you're wondering. So yes, I'm assuming there'll be other people drinking their coffee."
"Rosie, are you sure-"
"Something has to give, Jennie," Rosie said with a faint sigh, "you're right; we can't keep doing it as we have been."
There was silence at the other end of the phone and Rosie pushed off the wooden post and paced the paved patio as she listened to the rustling sound of what she thought were bedsheets. Teeth worrying at her lower lip, she felt nervous, wondering if perhaps she was being too presumptuous with bending their careful rules. Rosie thought it was what Jennie wanted, and she was trying to be brazen, to show that she wasn't quite so set on what her team told her, but what if Jennie was worried about them being seen together too?
What if she worried like Rosie did, and didn't actually want to change anything, just didn't want to be with Rosie? The other night it had sounded like she wanted to be, but in all the time they'd been apart, Jennie hadn't once tried coming out. Rosie would've heard any whispers potentially before the press announcement, but there had been nothing. Even her jealousy about Krystal was unfounded because there were no sly hints from their mutual friends at all the dinners and events she'd attended with them. Nothing at all. So perhaps Jennie wasn't ready.
"What time?"
Letting out a pent up breath, Rosie's shoulders slumped as she allowed herself a pleased smile. "I'll pick you up now."
"See you soon."
They hung up and she ran her hand over the beige sweater with colourful geometric triangles knitted into it and realised it was Jennie's. She'd avoided wearing it for so long, keeping it hung up in her closet, but she hadn't even hesitated that morning when she'd pulled it on with her maroon chinos, enveloping herself in the faint smell of the perfume clinging to it.
Smiling to herself, she hurried inside and grabbed Jennie's coat, slipping it on with the intention of returning it, before lacing on a pair of brown oxfords and grabbing a handbag. She was behind the wheel of her Range Rover five minutes later, driving through the bluish light of dusk as her heart leapt with excitement.
It wasn't a long drive to Jennie's apartment, and she texted her as she pulled up outside, car idling at the curb, and waited patiently for her to emerge. The way her body reacted to the sight of Jennie stepping out of the lobby was so strong that it caught Rosie off guard and she had to tighten her hands on the steering wheel as her stomach clenched and she straightened in her seat. Quietly clearing her throat as Jennie opened the door to the passenger side, she turned and gave her a strained smile.
"Hi."
"Hi," Jennie greeted her, her voice breathless and low, and she quickly buckled herself in before giving Rosie an appraising look. "Oh, my coat! And ... is that my sweater?"
"I brought the coat back for you," Rosie said, her eyes sliding sideways to peer at her as she put the car into drive and indicated to pull out into traffic, and the corner of her mouth curled into a smile.
Hand behind the headrest of Jennie's seat, she craned her neck to check for oncoming traffic and pulled out into the street, her eyes darting to Jennie every few moments as they drove through the city. The sky was gunmetal blue, the streetlights orange starbursts breaking through the gloom, and Rosie flicked her headlights on as they drove in the comfort behind the tinted windows of the hulking car.
There was something about driving that was always a relief for them. No one knew it was them behind the dark windows and they were free to drive anywhere and everywhere they wanted to, without the risk of being seen - as long as they didn't stop anywhere and get out. Rosie would've been content to drive them around all night, but the whole point of this was to put herself out there, to take a risk to see whether it was what she wanted with Jennie.
"How've you been?" Rosie asked after a few moments, taking a left.
"Oh, yeah, good. It's nice to be home."
Rosie nodded in agreement, feeling somewhat shy as she drove them through the city in silence, the radio off and the sound of honking horns and traffic muted in the small space. It was ridiculous that she should feel shy, especially given all of her history with Jennie, but there was a part of her nervous for this talk. She wanted so badly for them to be able to work it out, to find their way back to the blissful heaven of how it felt to be with Jennie, to know her in every sense of the word, but she was scared that it might be too much to work through. Sometimes, it didn't matter how hard you tried, some things just wouldn't work.
They made small talk about work and how Jennie's birthday was next month and how
Rosie's album was progressing, and it all felt so easy. Laughing like they used to, the tension between them dissipated and Rosie couldn't keep the smile off her face. It was almost enough to fool her into thinking that things hadn't changed at all, that Jennie had just been away filming and the couple of months of heartbreak hadn't happened at all. It was like she'd found a missing piece of herself, and it was frightening at how quickly she came alive in Jennie's company. Rosie loved the person she was around her, how Jennie just put her at ease, made her feel warm and giddy. It felt like falling in love all over again.
Eventually, they came to a stop at an open parking spot lining a street full of restaurants and bars and boutiques. Shopfronts were lit up in the fading light and they climbed out of the car and met on the sidewalk, where Jennie was thumbing quarters into the parking metre. They were standing outside an old cinema, showing the latest movies and the smell of fresh popcorn was blown out onto the street.
Beside it sat a comic book store and then a sushi bar. They fell into step beside each other, hands buried in their pockets, heads down, passing by ramen restaurants, bars advertising happy hour drinks and pizza parlours. Rosie guided them toward a small coffee shop she liked to come to and write sometimes.
It was a small healthy joint, tucked away between a Himalayan restaurant and a bakery that specialised in French desserts that tasted like they were straight off the streets of Paris. It was one of her favourite spots in Miami, crowded with small tables, always warm from the steaming coffee machine as it churned out bitter espresso from the dark roasted beans imported from Hawaii. She loved to go there on difficult days and hide in a forgotten corner with a book, drinking tea and vegetable juices for hours, until she couldn't recall what was bothering her.
She knew it wasn't the kind of place where paparazzi would be lurking. In fact, she'd never encountered them anywhere near the neighbourhood before and knew that they'd be safe unless someone recognised either of them and took photos on the sly. But it was late and the shop was half-full with a smattering of college students and a few hopefuls writing novels or screenplays.
They made their way far away from the windows, a bad habit picked up from too many times photographed by people hovering outside waiting for them, and they tucked themselves away in the shadow of a framed painting of wild horses. Jennie eyed the decor with a dubious look on her face and Rosie quietly chuckled as she shed her coat in the warmth. They were close to the coffee machine, offering them cover for their conversation, and the hum of the coffee shop and the meditative sounds of instrumental music washed over them.
"Coffee?"
"Oh, um, yeah, sure. I'll have a maple-"
"Latte with oat milk."
Jennie gave her a small smile, and Rosie shrugged slightly before she climbed up from her seat and made her way over to the counter.
They were familiar with her infrequent appearances at the coffee shop, and always subtle with their reaction to one of the world's biggest celebrities popping in for coffee, and clandestine with Rosie's stolen moments in the safe haven. Not once had she had an issue with her privacy while she was there, and she owed the barista's for their sealed lips about her stolen moments in the back corners of the place.
She was always polite enough to linger for a few moments and talk to them, feeling a flicker of warmth at the delight in their eyes, and as she ordered their coffees for them, along with a vegan muffin to share, she made small talk with the tattooed woman behind the counter. Rosie also ordered two wheatgrass shots for them, dropped a twenty in the tip jar, and reclaimed her seat across from Jennie a moment later.
The coffee machine started churning loudly, the sound of milk being steamed drowning out their conversation from at least a few tables away, and Rosie laced her hands together on the scarred surface of the table.
"So, um, where should we start?" Jennie hesitantly asked.
Bowing her head, Rosie sighed, and she peered up through her lashes to watch Jennie anxiously ruffle her chopped hair. "I don't know. I just- what can we do? I don't know how to fix this, us, while I'm locked in a contract. It might be easier for you, but not when it's with me. I think we made that very clear."
She gave Jennie a faint smile, her expression clouded with her dour humour, and she sat back in her chair. Lips pressed into a thin line, Jennie looked down at the table, a brooding look on her face as her shoulders curved forward. She kept her head turned toward the wall they were sitting beside.
"I know it's not going to be easy," Jennie softly replied, her eyes closing, "I'm not asking for easy. I just want a chance for us to try. I want us to be able to do this. Go out for coffee without being scared that our careers will suffer because of it. People have friends! We should at least be able to pretend to be friends."
"But we're not friends, Jennie. We've never been friends. It's- well, they have good reason to be worried. What if we slip up? We can go out with our friends as much as we want, but I'm not in love with my friends. One look at you- God, they'd know, and I don't know how to not look at you like that. I just-"
Cutting off as the waitress appeared with two wheatgrass shots, eyes darting between the two of them as she set them down, both of them murmuring quiet thanks before she retreated. Jennie eyed the vivid green juice and raised her eyebrows at Rosie, who shrugged and drained her own in one gulp.
Jennie followed suit, mouth turning down at the corners as she grimaced with distaste. "That goes down about as easily as battery acid."
"It's good for you," Rosie softly chided her with mild amusement.
A shiver of revulsion ran through Jennie as she shook her head, before meeting Rosie's sparkling eyes and giving her a sheepish smile. The barista was back a moment later, balancing two cups of coffee and the muffin, setting them down and whisking away the small empty shot glasses. Rosie nudged the muffin toward Jennie and added some sugar to her coffee.
"Okay, so," Jennie said, skimming the foam off the top of her latte and giving Rosie a hooded look as she ate it, "we're not friends, we've never been friends, and you can't look at me in a friendly way. So we just need to distract them from who we're really looking at."
"You mean a PR stunt," Rosie sighed heavily.
It wasn't the first time they topic had been broached to either of them, but it was the first time one of them had proposed the idea. Rosie shouldn't have been surprised; it was the most logical choice with the least amount of fuss about it. Of course, there was the acting, but Rosie had been pretending for her whole career, and holding hands with another man seemed a small exchange for the opportunity to date Jennie outside of the confines of their homes. All it would take was holding hands too, because she couldn't so much as take a photo with another man without a dating rumour being sparked. It would be all too easy.
But the thought twisted Rosie's stomach. So far, she'd avoided putting herself into any public spotlights with relationships, letting her music be the source of her romantic speculation, and she wasn't exactly eager to be put in the spotlight further with someone she didn't know, let alone love. Jennie would have to be sure this time for Rosie to be on board with such a taxing plan.
"I know it's not ideal, but I act for a living. It won't be any different to my job, really, so-"
"Wait, you don't want me to do it?" Rosie asked, brow furrowing with confusion.
Eyebrows rising, Jennie paused, hand extended toward the muffin as her eyes widened. She slowly broke off a piece and retracted her hand. "Oh!" she murmured, voice coloured with surprise, "I mean, I feel like it's a lot to ask of you, especially seeing as this is all for my benefit."
Closing her eyes, Rosie exhaled slowly, before she fixed Jennie with a dour stare. "This is supposed to be mutually beneficial. That's the whole point in it. I don't-" she cut off, swallowing thickly as she gathered her thoughts, "I mean, I don't want to make you do something that I wouldn't do myself. We both have to be committed to this, or it's not going to work. I think it's unfair to put all the work onto you."
"I have some making up to do," Jennie said with a droll smile.
"I think ... I don't think my team will be on board unless I do it too, or instead," Rosie said, her brow puckering slightly as she spoke slowly. "You know how they are. With my fanbase and everything, it's ... well, they'll want to make sure our relationship is airtight."
Jennie nodded slowly, a thoughtful look on her face. "Would you be comfortable with both of us? I mean, you've never had a jealous streak, I don't- I don't think you do because you know what my job is like. And I wouldn't get jealous either!"
Rosie couldn't help but quietly chuckle at her earnest speech. "I don't think I'll get jealous," she said, her voice coloured with amusement before she narrowed her eyes slightly and pursed her lips. "But I think it might be a little too on the nose if we both have public relationships at the same time. If I go first, if we give it a couple of months, we can- we can see if it works. If it's what we want - both of us - then we can add another layer to the lie, I guess."
With a sceptical look, Jennie gave her a small smile, "you're still unsure, aren't you?"
Biting back an impatient sigh, Rosie grit her teeth for a moment, averting her gaze as she picked up her coffee and took a sip, looking around the cosy coffee shop and out into the night beyond. She primly set her cup back down and hung her head, splayed her callused hands on the tabletop as she tried to keep her frustration under wraps.
"Of course I'm unsure!" she quietly exclaimed. "You left me twice, and I believe you when you say you want me and you love me, but that doesn't mean I want to rush in again. It hurts too much. I want to take it slow and-"
"Slow is fine," Jennie softly said, reaching out to brush her fingertips against Rosie's, before reaching for the sugar and pulling back.
It was a small gesture, quick and casual, and Rosie had to admire the sneakiness of it as she watched Jennie add sugar to her already sickly sweet coffee. She curled her fingers into a fist and swallowed the lump in her throat.
"I want you to promise me something," she hoarsely said, meeting Jennie's deep brown eyes with her own anxious ones. "You don't just get to leave this time. If there's something wrong, if there's something we can at least try and fix, you tell me. We decide together if that's what's best. You don't just- you don't get to leave without trying, without warning me. Because I can't take it-"
She let out a shuddering breath, flinching slightly at the sharp ache in her chest. Closing her eyes, she sat back in her seat, tipping her head back as she breathed in slowly, trying to steady the trembling feeling that washed over her, filling her with a sudden faintness.
"Don't leave," Rosie said, her voice a small plea as she gave Jennie a doleful look. "Not like that again."
Swallowing thickly, Jennie nodded, her eyes shining with tears. "If it's not working -if - we try and fix it. Together."
"Well ... okay then."
A smile curling her lips, Jennie reached for her coffee and took a sip, eyes shining brightly with joy, and Rosie felt a warmth excitement kindle inside her as she stared at her over the rim of her own cup.
They lingered in the coffee shop for a long while, drinking slowly as they basked in the feeling of just being out together. Rosie could count on one hand the number of times they'd ventured out together, including the first time they'd gone for coffee before they'd even started dating the first time. That had been the only time they'd ever had no qualms about being out and about together, because they hadn't even been together then.
To sit in the back of the coffee shop with her as night swept over the city, it was a rare treat, and neither of them wanted it to end. It was like they'd found that small pocket for themselves, their sanctuary within the city, to be there together without the prying eyes of the world, and Rosie felt her last few reservations fall away as they sat at the back, laughing and finding themselves gravitating toward each other across the table as they talked in hushed voices.
Eventually, they had to leave though, having lingered there for too long, but Rosie was still hesitant to let the night end. She didn't want it to - not yet. For nearly four months, she'd been missing Jennie terribly, and after the taste of what she'd been missing the other night, she loathed to leave her again, finding herself completely wrapped up in her once more.
Jennie felt the same, so instead of heading home, they went to the cinema they'd parked outside, thumbing a few more quarters into the machine, before they ducked inside. Buying them two tickets to The Hunger Games, they snuck into the dark cinema and sat at the back, the back of their hands brushing in the blackness of the theatre.
Rosie felt an electric current running through her the entire time, adrenaline keeping her wide-eyed and alert at the back of the room half-full with other movie-goers, and it wasn't entirely due to the movie that she barely comprehended playing in front of her eyes. Just the fact that Jennie was sitting beside her, knee knocking against hers, elbows touching, knuckles brushing. It was intoxicating, and Rosie could barely concentrate on the plot, even though she already knew it by heart. She'd read the books countless times while writing a song for the soundtrack, but all thoughts of what happened flew out of her head as she sat there in her own world.
When the movie finally finished, and Jennie finally allowed them to leave after Rosie's song had finished playing as the end credits rolled, much to the brunette's embarrassment, they were both smug and brimming with happiness at how well it had all gone. They'd been sneaky and it had worked. No one had bothered them at all, even if their eyes had flickered with shocked recognition.
And then they were checked as they entered the well-lit lobby of the cinema, two women's mouths dropped open, bug-eyed with shock, as they took in the sight of the two stars. Sharing a panicked look of dread, they forced smiles to their faces as the young women asked for a photo with them both.
Cursing internally, Rosie knew that she was going to be receiving a very cold phone call off Hyeri tomorrow, that would most likely result in an impromptu trip to PCY Records' headquarters for another sit-down meeting with her team to go over every mistake she'd ever made. Still, as they stood there, side by side, sandwiched between the two young women, Rosie couldn't bring herself to regret her decision to try again as she pressed her hand against Jennie's lower back and smiled for the camera.
No one had to know what they were doing; no one but them. As long as she smiled for the cameras and played her part well, behind the scenes they were both free to do whatever they pleased, and Rosie's eyes burned with determined triumph as the camera flash blinded her, cementing her fate as Jennie's friend, for the world to see.
-
"That was really the moment where it became very real for us both. This time it wasn't a game, it wasn't a coy secret for us to play around with in the shadows. That was really the first step we took that made it all frighteningly real, because there we were, photographed together, out and about, and it was the start of something bigger than either of us."
"How did it feel to put yourself into that situation? I mean, obviously it must've felt great to be halfway in the light, but it must've put you in a tight spot too."
Face lighting up, Rosie eagerly nodded in agreement, amusement written all over her face. "Oh, absolutely! It was out of the frying pan and into the fire, definitely. We were the instigators of our own freedom, while actually just orchestrating ourselves a bigger prison. We had the whole city to ourselves now! If we wanted to go shopping together, we did. Dinner? We went. Except very soon I had a man on my arm or at my side at dinner, and I'd reach out to take the wrong hand when we would be walking together in a group. And it was great because we were together underneath everyone's noses! But it was hard."
"Worth it though?"
"Every second of it," Rosie earnestly replied, her words clear and precise as she fixed Nayeon with a level stare.
She wouldn't let it be misconstrued that she'd ever thought for a second that Jennie hadn't been worth every hardship and struggle they'd endured. Rosie would've done it all over again if she'd had to, no matter how different she wished it could've been. It had all led up to that moment, had all been pivotal in the way her life and her career played out. And perhaps there were moments she wasn't so proud of, but all of the decisions had piled up to it, and she couldn't bring herself to be angry at herself for it anymore.
"We still took it very slow though," she admitted, "it was like we were back in the dating phase again. We knew what we were, of course, but there was no pressure, no rush this time. Instead of jumping right back to where we'd left off like we did the second time around, there were late-night dinners and sleepovers at each other's places, maybe once or twice a week. We were both in and out of town doing our own thing, and I think it was good to ease ourselves back into it, and Jennie really let it be on my terms this time."
"You did end up back in a real relationship though?"
"Yes. It was just a serious decision this time, and neither of us wanted to waste it by being hasty and messing it all up before we figured out what we wanted. Communication has always been very important to me, and we really focused on it that time around. We'd talk about what we needed to be better at, what wasn't working for us, and what each of us wanted. It helped."
Cocking her head to the side, Nayeon gave her a searching look, and Rosie could read the burning desire in her eyes as she chewed on a question. Waiting patiently, Rosie laced her fingers together in her lap and gave her an expectant look.
"Wasn't that frustrating though? Having to check yourselves at every step of the way, all because of your careers?"
"It was. Of course it was. But ... I don't know, I just feel like love changes you - into a better person if it's with the right person - and we'd both been trapped in the confines of our young love before, and this time we wanted to give ourselves room to change with each other. We were both still growing up, right in the spotlight, and I think we both chose to handle it in a mature way and involve our team in it this time. It was invasive and brutal at times, but there was really no other option for us. It worked, and it worked well. And for that, I have to thank Loren Lee."