Morning, his place
Burnt toast, Sunday
You keep his shirt
He keeps his word
And for once you let go
Of your fears and your ghosts
One step, not much, but it said enough
You kissed on sidewalks
You fight and you talk
One night he wakes, strange look on his face Pauses, then says, you're my best friend
And you knew what it was, he is in love
You can hear it in the silence, silence, you
You can feel it on the way home, way home, you You can see it with the lights out, lights out
You are in love, true love
So it goes
You two are dancing in a snow globe, go round and round
And he keeps the picture of you in his office downtown
You understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars
And why I've spent my whole life try to put it into words
-
"I went back on tour with the surety that things were taken care of. The story came out that Jennie was dating Kwon Jiyong, and it was just enough coverage to keep people off our backs without it being too on the nose. I was kept busy - radio interviews, talk shows, talent show performances and charity events. I didn't see her again until June."
"Intentionally?"
With a scoff of laughter, Rosie arched an eyebrow. "Definitely. But ... but Jennie and I agreed that it would be for the best as well. We were both dealing with a lot. I hate to admit it, but I was ... jealous. Just the thought of her and Jiyong together was enough to make me feel ... I don't know. I don't know what I felt. I trusted her - it wasn't that - I think perhaps it was just envy. I wanted to be able to hold her hand like he could, and she would feel that when it was me with a new man. Distance kind of gave us the space to detach ourselves from the celebrity parts of our lives."
"That seems ... impossible. Especially for you. Jennie's career has been ... vast. She's won prestigious awards and been on Broadway and everyone knows her. But you ... there's something about musicians that brings on a rabid fanbase, as well as the A-list status. And you've been at the pinnacle of that for a while now. Could you ever really detach yourself from that? Escape it? Hide from it?"
With a rueful smile, Rosie brushed her hair back and let out a heavy sigh. There was a bitterness to the twist of her mouth as her eyes flashed with wicked amusement.
"That's the thing, it is possible. Celebrities aren't ... we're not- okay, so people know where my houses are. They know where yours is, and even where minor celebrities live, and paparazzi will hang around the latest big thing, snapping photos of them, and they know the hottest hangouts. But that's the thing; aside from all of that, it's not too hard to disappear, even being a celebrity. If you don't tag your location, don't publicise your life or go to the spots everyone's talking about then you can disappear. You can go off the grid. I could do that. We were just- we went off the grid with each other."
"You weren't really on the grid together though, were you? Sure, there was a single article that a few people saw - I can't even remember it and as a talk-show host I'm supposed to be up to date on every scrap of gossip - but it seemed like your team was ... a little extreme."
Gingerly baring her teeth, Rosie tipped her head to one side and then straightened up.
"I mean, it was, and it wasn't. Self-preservation is a big thing for any celebrity, and I understand that they were doing what was best. For both Jennie and myself. It didn't always feel like it, but I suppose it's similar to parenting in that way ... with me being the child. I resent the constraints, in hindsight, but fear does strange things to you. Makes you agree to do everything in your power to keep dark secrets, even when the only thing you want is the exact opposite."
"You wanted to come forward?"
"I just wanted her," Rosie said, her voice cracking on the last word as a flicker of pain ran across her face. She cleared her throat and gave Nayeon a wan smile, "in any way. Always."
-
The distance was as painful as a knife to the chest, like a piece of Rosie had been cut away, just out of her reach. It should've been simple, but it was anything but that. They Facetimed each other, they called and kept up a constant stream of texts through various phone numbers and pseudonyms. Rosie had saved Jennie in her contact under Miss Americana as a precaution that touched back to the joke they'd made, and nothing made her happier than to see that name pop up on her screen.
It didn't make the empty side of the bed any easier, or the time differences as Rosie hopped from country to country in a whirlwind of massive crowds and repetitive performances. Each day was like walking on eggshells, the weary thought that today might be the day the other shoe dropped leaving Rosie feeling wrung out and resigned to the bomb sitting in her lap, just waiting to suddenly explode and blow up her life.
Washington. Houston. Glendale. All of the places started to look the same, a black city lit up by a million tiny dots of light breaking through the darkness of night as Rosie paced before the windows of her generic hotel room. Then she'd fall asleep in the grey pre-dawn light and sleep through the morning in the king-sized bed, unless Hyeri had planned something to fill her day, which Rosie knew was just an excuse to keep her close, to keep her out of Miami. She couldn't see Jennie on the brief gaps between shows if she was kept busy.
It was over a month before they saw each other again. It was a paltry amount of time in comparison to other times they'd been apart, but it was all the more painful to know that they didn't need to be apart, and that it was only as a preventative to stop them from fuelling more rumours about their relationship.
But then Rosie had ten days off in June. Glorious, sweltering June, with its robin's egg skies and baking stone and strict house arrest that she was put under in a rented ranch a few miles out of the city limits of Miami. In the middle of scrubby desertland and rocky foothills and ravines, Rosie was confined to the twelve acres of private property to write songs, ride horses and avoid
giving herself a horrific sunburn in the harsh glare of summer. And Jennie was right there with her.
They spent a few nights beneath the star-lit velvety sky, skin bathed orange from the fire pit, wearing cut-off shorts and sweaters as they sipped wine. Jennie's freckles stood out against her golden skin as they rode horses through the hills, Rosie slathered in a thick paste of sunscreen that she looked like a ghost on horseback.
It was the perfect reprieve, with Hank running around their feet on Sunday morning as they kissed in the wide, rustic kitchen, toast burning as they got caught up in each other. Rosie wore Jennie's shirts, breathing in the familiar perfume of her that she'd missed so much while gone, and they slow danced in a halo of light cast by the fridge in the middle of the night, picking through the fridge like thieves as a full moon bathed the room silver.
Sitting out in the cool night air, shoulders brushing as they wrapped a blanket around their shoulders and drank coffee, they pointed out shooting stars streaking across the sky, Jennie's voice a warm whisper against her ear as she told Rosie to look, reaching out a hand leached of colour to point at the fleeting smear against the starry backdrop. It felt like forever. Like they'd been preserved perfectly in a timeless bubble, but it went too fast as well. Far too fast for Rosie's liking.
On her last day, she rose in the dark bedroom, feeling Jennie shift beside her and her eyes trained on her hunched shoulders. It was just after midnight, and Rosie had to leave. There was a car waiting for her a mile from the city, ready to take her away to the rest of her tour. To Canada this time.
"You should get ready," Jennie softly told her, voice strong, despite their impending parting.
Rosie's lips twisted into a sad smile as she swallowed the thickness in her throat, feeling it painfully constrict as if she'd swallowed a stone that slid all the way down to her stomach, sitting heavily there. Her body ached with the ghostly sensation of missing Jennie, even though she was still there, for the time being, and a pressure built up behind her eyes, quickly blinked away.
She showered and gathered together the few things she'd forgotten to pack earlier on, dressing in a pair of chinos and a striped t-shirt, before donning a navy pea coat. Jennie was shrugged on her denim jacket as Rosie entered the bedroom, taking in the heather grey sweatpants and sneakers, the frazzled brunette hair hastily pulled up into a ponytail and the pattern of the comforter indented into Jennie's flushed cheek.
The ranch was eerily quiet at midnight, skeletal trees of bleached wood thrusting up through the rocky ground, the horses shifting quietly in their stables and a stretch of nothingness around them. Jennie's Lexus was parked in the driveway and they both climbed into their seats, the car purring to life and tearing up a cloud of dust as they headed down the long path cutting through the swathe of land.
They drove in silence, along dark, bumpy roads until they reached the highway, and Jennie stopped off for gas at a squat station bathed in sickly luminescent light, returning with two cups of coffee to see them through the late hours of the night. As she climbed into the car, Rosie caught the silver flash of the necklace around her neck, the curve of her collarbone where shadows pooled in the hollow there, the way she hunched her shoulders and ducked her head illuminated by the flickering lights advertising greasy food and expensive gas.
It made Rosie's stomach wrench with anguish to know that it would be another month before they saw each other again, before they were holed up in a winery in Napa Valley or a yurt in Joshua Tree or some other distant, luxurious getaway. Rosie would take it, of course. She'd go anywhere with Jennie. A dingy roadside motel with bed bugs and crime scene bloodstains would be a sort of paradise, as long as they were together. But first, they had to be apart again, and it never got any easier, no matter how many times they said goodbye, or for how long.
Secrecy had its thrills and it had its grievances, and Rosie resented the need for it at all with each passing day. But she would never opt for anything different. Not yet. Fear and youthful naivety of believing Park Chanyeol when he said her career wouldn't survive it made her cling to the security blanket of stealthiness, despite every inch of her that ached for Jennie in every way imaginable.
They drove in silence, drinking their bad coffee as sleep blanketed them, leaving their bodies limp and deflated, yet they didn't have to speak to feel the strength of the love that hung heavily between them. Even with her eyes closed, giving in to the jostling movements of the car, Rosie could feel it. Every unsaid word between them struck her heart with a painful longing to speak it all, to make sure that Jennie knew.
The words got stuck in her throat though, and before Rosie could manage to clear the cobwebs of fear that clung to her mind, to bring the quiet reassurances to light, for some peace of mind for both of them, Jennie was pulling over onto the shoulder of the road. A car was parked beside a road sign marking the distance to Miami, and Jennie cut the engine and plunged them into darkness as she switched the lights off.
In the small space of the car, in the sudden darkness with the oppressive silence of the two of them dawdling towards a goodbye, Rosie could feel her love more than ever. It hung thickly between them, and the mere brush of Jennie's fingertips ghosting her cheek was enough for Rosie's heart and stomach to lurch with desperation as she was overcome by too many emotions to keep track of.
"You're my best friend, you know that, right?" Rosie said, her voice gruff as she sniffed and cleared her throat. "I love you. So, so much."
"Here," Jennie said in a low, urgent voice, scrambling for the collar of her shirt.
Rosie watched as she pulled the silver chain free, revealing the small paper aeroplane attached to the length of it, the same one she'd worn countless times in her presence. Jennie quickly pulled it over her head and reached for Rosie's hand, pushing it into her palm and curling her fingers around it. Her touch was warm and heartbreakingly familiar
"Paper aeroplanes symbolise taking you to the places you're supposed to be in life. This will bring you back to me, if you trust it to fly and guide you true."
"I'll see you soon," Rosie whispered, her words full of conviction as she leant across the middle of the car and kissed her softly, just another goodbye on their long list.
-
"Another month went by," Rosie said, a thoughtful look on her face as she chewed on each word before speaking. "July. It was a strange month. I was on the road again and Jennie was off on quiet dates with Jiyong, going to his football games and out for dinner. It made me feel ... just strange. I couldn't help but wonder if Jennie had always felt like that with me. That it made her feel distant from me, because that's how it felt to me. Like I was on the outside and far away. I know it was the loneliness speaking, and we tried to steer clear of seeing things in relation to each other pretending to date other men, but the thought of someone else taking her out to dinner instead of me was a cold thought."
"Was that- is that where the trouble came from that time around? Jealousy? Envy?"
With a quiet laugh, Rosie shook her head, her blonde tresses of curls fanning around her face before she raked her fingers through them and gave Nayeon a pained look. Her smile faltered for a beat, before Rosie firmly pressed her lips together.
"No, not at all. It was ... quite the opposite, actually."
-
July passed by quickly, with a small visit at a private retreat just outside of San Francisco at the start of August, meditation in the mornings and yoga in the afternoons, before she was gone again. Only for a couple of weeks that time around, and with overwhelming relief and gratitude, Rosie was finally allowed to go home. Home for the first time in months.
It was all thanks to Jennie and Jiyong, their quiet relationship seeming real and grounded, and nothing like the showy PR stunts Rosie had been subjected to. It offered them a reprieve from any rumours, and Rosie was finally free to go home to her house and her bed and her love, without any threat of scandal.
The feeling as she watched the gates to her home part before the car was indescribable. Her whole body felt limp with a serene rightness as everything fell into place. With a contented sigh, Rosie climbed out of the car as if came to a stop and stared at the white clapboard, the overflowing garden full of honeysuckle and roses and the smell of damp stone warmed by the sun. It hit her with a wave of homesickness and she turned and smiled at the chauffeur as she fetched her bags.
The front door was unlocked and she eased herself into the cool interior, dropping her bags inside the door and kicking off her shoes, listening to the muffled hum of the TV and someone clattering about in the kitchen. Smile growing, Rosie crept through the house barefoot and slipped into the kitchen to lean against the doorframe.
Jennie hummed to herself, hair haphazardly piled on top of her head as she stirred a steaming pot with a wooden spoon. She was wearing one of Rosie's floral silk robes, feet bare and a glass of white wine in hand as she swayed slightly in front of the stove.
She moved to a large skillet and stirred the contents with a different wooden spoon, before glancing down at the floor and laughing quietly. Rosie tilted her head to the side and gripped the doorframe in her hand as she bit her lip, watching Jennie with a warm feeling spreading throughout her. It took everything in her not to run to her and fiercely wrap her in her arms, but she held herself at bay for a few moments longer, enjoying the view.
"What? You want some chicken? Is that what it is?" Jennie cooed to an unseen Hank lurking behind the stretch of counters.
She scooped a piece out of the pan and gently blew on it, before stooping down and holding it out for the dog to snatch, disappearing from Rosie's line of sight.
"Sh, don't tell mommy. Good boy."
"Don't tell me what?" Rosie called out, pushing off the door with a wide smile stretching across her face.
She watched Jennie straighten up so quickly that she nearly sloshed her half-full glass of wine all over herself, wooden spoon clutched to her chest as her eyes went wide.
"Oh! Oh, you're home! You're home early!" Jennie excitedly babbled, dropping the glass and the spoon and rushing around the counters, the robe flapping out behind her as she ran at Rosie.
Meeting her halfway, Rosie staggered backwards as Jennie barrelled into her, spinning them around slightly as they held onto each other, before they lost their balance and went down to the tiled floor in a heap. Grumbling in between laughter, Rosie cupped her sore elbows and Jennie rubbed her wrist, but they both shone with so much happiness that it was nearly tangible.
Half-propped up on her elbows, Rosie couldn't even manage to get a word out before Jennie was kissing her, cupping her cheeks in her hands and smashing their mouths together. Laughter bubbled up inside Rosie, and she silently shook as tears prickled her eyes, feeling breathless and helpless.
"I didn't expect you until later!" Jennie exclaimed when she finally pulled back.
Gesturing off-handedly, Rosie's eyes crinkled at the corners as she looked up at her, reaching up to toy with the robe's belt as she smiled. "I wanted to surprise you. I left as soon as the interview finished. I couldn't stand to be away from you a second longer."
"Ugh, I know. I've been impatient all day."
"And ... stress baking? I can smell bread and ... brownies?"
"Cookies," Jennie chuckled, climbing to her feet and reaching down to help pull her girlfriend to her feet. "And yes, brownies, and the risotto is cooking for dinner. I got a bit carried away; I've had ... a lot on my mind."
Brow furrowing with concern, Rosie reached out for Jennie's hand, raising it to her mouth and kissing her knuckles as she looked at her with appraising brown eyes. "What is it? Is something wrong? You can tell me, you know that."
Waving a hand dismissively, Jennie let out a strained laugh, "it's nothing. Just ... it can wait. Let's eat. Are you hungry? I'm starving?"
"Jennie-" Rosie said.
Pulling up short, Rosie bit off an impatient sigh and then exhaled softly. Her lips curled up into a small smile as she looked at her, expression softening slightly.
"Is there more wine left?" Rosie ended up asking, deciding to drop the topic for the moment.
With an endearing smile and a tender look on her face, Jennie smiled at her and moved over to the counter, where a bottle of white wine she'd been cooking with sat on the counter, beaded with condensation. Rosie fetched a polished glass and let Jennie fill it up for her, before she topped off her own, and took a measured sip as she hovered beside her girlfriend, who stirred the mixture of chicken and mushrooms cooking over low heat.
They got wrapped up in conversation, eagerly sharing stories and gossip that they'd forgotten about during their calls, and Rosie tried not to sound too bitter when she asked after Jiyong. Jennie's indifferent response was a soothing balm to her envy though and Rosie perked up slightly, sipping her wine and kissing the back of Jennie's neck as she stirred the chicken and mushroom into the thick rice.
She toyed with her hair and let her fingertips glide over the soft skin of her stomach where her shirt rode up, breathed in the smell of her shampoo and felt the heat radiating from her as it warmed her cool fingertips, Jennie yelping and laughing at Rosie's icy touch. The sound warmed her heart and Rosie smiled into her shoulder as she stood behind her, arms wrapped around her waist as they swayed.
Yet there was an air of distraction around Jennie that nagged at Rosie, despite the fact that she'd told her not to worry. Too often in her life, secrecy had meant something bad was on the way, something that was going to throw her off-kilter as her whole world shifted, reality altered and a sense of impending doom coming with it. Still, Rosie could never have predicted the devastating ramifications of the truth when it came out.
The clock was inching towards five o'clock, the sky an aquamarine blue without the mere wisp of a cloud streaking across it. The trellis out in the garden was green and flowered and Rosie lit a citronella candle on the table as they settled down with heaping bowls of risotto and brimming glasses of wine. The air was warm and she could hear cicadas singing in chorus off in her flowering garden, cut through by the muffled crooning of The Dixie Chicks from within the kitchen.
Feeling languorous in the shafts of greenish sunlight filtering down through the trellis, Rosie spooned risotto into her mouth as she eyed Jennie across from her. She looked preoccupied, an uncharacteristic broodiness to her as she played at her food. That was even more unusual. Jennie's appetite was unending, constantly fuelled by her rampant baking sprees and near-daily brunches, and Rosie watched her closely, head cocked to the side as she chewed slowly, wondering what was weighing so heavily on her mind. Her earlier enthusiasm seemed subdued, and it was concerning.
"You going to tell me what's the matter?"
Jennie's eyes flitted up to meet hers, impossible brown against her tanned, summer skin, and they widened a fraction, before she cast Rosie a flash of perfectly white teeth. "With you home? Absolutely nothing."
She held her smile in place as she took a sip of wine, and Rosie pursed her lips as she leant back in the wide seat, chin in her hand as she rested her elbow on the wicker arm of the chair. Rosie was entirely unconvinced, and her stomach clenched with unease, curbing any appetite that she'd had.
"You say that, but you look like you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders. Come on, love. I know you. It's written on your face you know," she said matter-of-factly, reaching for her glass of wine and giving Jennie an earnest look.
"You've got it all wrong, I can promise you that," Jennie murmured, her mouth curving up into a mildly amused smile that made her eyes sparkle with mischief.
"So it's not Jiyong? It's not work? Or me?"
With a conspiratorial look glinting in her eye, Jennie leaned forward across the table, wisps of brunette hair curling at her temples as she smiled crookedly, her food all but forgotten about. As she replied, she lowered her voice, until it was smooth and honeyed, and just slightly laced with longing.
"Oh, it's you alright," she wistfully sighed, "it's always you. You're the root of my problems and the cause of my happiness, you know."
"I know," Rosie said with mild surprise, eyebrows rising and voice barely a mutter.
Climbing to her feet, Jennie sighed heavily with resignation and gave her a heartbreakingly tender smile, her eyes shining and cheek dimpling slightly. She slowly rounded the table, ambling like she had all the time in the world, and shaded her eyes as she looked out at the garden, her skin bathed golden and her profile tense and restless.
"You see, I've been thinking a lot while you've been gone," Jennie said as she turned to look at Rosie, the sweetest smile breaking out on her face as she walked over to her.
She reached out to cup the underside of Rosie's jaw, tilting her head up and smiling down at her as she buried a hand in her pocket, looking like she was weighing the moment. Shaking her head with an exasperated air of inevitability, she sank down before Rosie and let her hand slide up from her jaw to her cheek, brushing dark hair back as Rosie loomed over her.
"I've been thinking, and realising some things. And what I've realised is that I love you. I love you so much."
With a quiet laugh, Rosie leant over and quickly kissed the tip of her nose, her brow wrinkling with bewildered amusement. "I love you too, you dope. There's no need to be so melodramatic about it."
She pulled back and her eyes widened a fraction as Jennie's hand darted out to grab her arm, to keep her attention before it was drawn back to their forgotten dinner. Rosie turned back to her, dark eyebrows rising, before she looked down and watched Jennie's other hand unfurl to reveal a ring nestled in her palm. Rosie blanched as she looked at it and realisation dawned on her, before she looked up at Jennie's hopeful eyes and listened to her speak the words that she silently begged her not to say.
"Marry me."