Don't blame me, love made me crazy If it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right
Lord, save me, my drug is my baby
I'd be usin' for the rest of my life
I've been breakin' hearts a long time, and
Toyin' with them older guys
Just playthings for me to use
Something happened for the first time, in
The darkest little paradise
Shakin, pacin', I just need you
For you, I would cross the line
I would waste my time
I would lose my mind
They say she's gone too far this time
-
"Hey."
"Hi," Rosie murmured, voice weary and small, "I'm in Nashville."
There was a pause on the other end as Jennie was struck speechless for a moment. "Wha- I- I
thought you said you weren't coming?"
"I wasn't," Rosie quickly agreed, a nervous tension brimming beneath her skin as she paced the carpeted floor of her hotel suite. "But then I decided to stop for the night on my way back."
"Oh, well ... okay."
"So, can I see you?"
"Yeah," Jennie softly replied, "yeah, of course. I'll text you the details."
Nerves squashed by the approval, Rosie slowly exhaled as she hung up and waited for the phone to buzz with the address Jennie was staying at. She was already dressed from her flight so it only took her a few minutes to gather her bag and put her shoes on, calling downstairs for a cab to be called for her. The hour was late enough that the lobby was empty as she stepped outside, just the night manager at the front desk who gave her a polite nod as she walked towards the door.
A valet opened the door to the cab as she handed over a few folded bills before sliding into the back, and, giving the cab driver Jennie's address, she slunk into the shadows and turned her head to the side, letting her dark hair obscure part of her face as she looked out the window. Nashville was awash with colours, even this late at night, and Rosie watched with blank disinterest, as if outside of herself.
The street was empty when the cab deposited her on the dark sidewalk, a muffled silence as the rest of the city faded into the background and Rosie peered through the darkness to identify the building. The night had an edge of cold to it and she burrowed into her sweater and fixed her glasses as she strode towards the apartment Jennie had been put up in for the duration of her stay. Ringing the buzzer, she waited, something tightening unbearably in her chest as the lock disengaged and she was let in without a word.
Seized with the urge to see Jennie that had been building or days now, it was all Rosie could do to calmly ride the elevator up to her floor without restlessly pacing, hands curling and flexing and curling again as she tried to quash the itching need beneath her skin. Walking slowly as the elevator doors opened, Rosie paused outside the plain wooden door for a moment, giving herself time to pull herself together before knocking.
She heard footsteps inside and felt her stomach clench with nerves, something about flying all the way there just to see Jennie making her feel a little shy, before the door opened and the tension bled out of her. Deflating as relief washed over her, Rosie gave Jennie a small smile as she looked at her, backlit by yellow lights inside, dressed down in sweats and a cardigan, hair loose and ruffled. There were dark circles beneath her eyes from a long day, matching Rosie's from a long flight, and they both stood in silence for a moment, taking each other in, before Jennie reached out and pulled her in by the hand.
"Hi," Jennie whispered, pulling her into a hug as she pushed the door shut, her arms strong and wiry around Rosie's body, her clothes smelling faintly of perfume and laundry detergent as Rosie closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.
She could've stayed there for the rest of the night, standing in the entryway of the apartment in Jennie's embrace, until the sun rose and she had to catch her flight. To stand there and feel the steady thump of her heart and the warmth that bled into her, chasing away the lingering chill from outside, would surely heal some of Rosie's aches. She had to bite back a quiet sound of complaint as Jennie finally drew back though.
"So ... this is unexpected," Jennie said, eyebrows rising and falling quickly as her cheeks dimpled with a smile. "Is everything okay? How was the Bahamas?"
"I- yeah, it's fine, it was good. I just ... I missed you. I wanted to see how you were," Rosie softly admitted, the sleeves of her sweatshirt falling down over her hands as she looked down at them, tugging at the cuffs.
Jennie let out a quiet laugh that made a shiver run down Rosie's spine, the sound warm and familiar, "see how I am?"
Shrugging nonchalantly, Rosie's head rose and she averted her eyes, looking elsewhere as Jennie looked at her. A faint undertone of pink coloured her pale cheeks as she rubbed at the back of her neck, her eyes burning with a tiredness she wouldn't submit to.
"I know how hard it is for you to be away from home sometimes," Rosie shrugged again, trying to feign indifference even as her heart ached. She wasn't good at pretending that she wasn't overly involved in Jennie's wellbeing; to see her hurt was like a knife in her own gut, painful and more than she could bear.
"You're checking up on me?" Jennie lightly said, a quiet chuckle falling from her lips as she headed further into the apartment. "That's cute. I didn't think we did that."
With a gentle scoff, Rosie's lips curled into a wry smile as she arched an eyebrow, "what? Cared about each other?"
"No," Jennie murmured, her brow furrowing with a look of irritation, "of course I care about you. But ... you're not my therapist."
"Oh good, so you've started seeing one?" Rosie innocently asked, eyes widening as her brows lifted in mocking curiosity.
Rolling her eyes, Jennie smiled slightly as she dodged the question, "I don't need you to check up on me, Rosie. I'm fine. But seeing as we're on the topic, how're you? Had any revelations lately?"
Raising a hand, Rosie gave her a stern look, ruined by the smile tugging at the corners as she moved closer to Jennie. "Hm, I didn't think we did that," she murmured.
"What? Asked questions?"
"Exactly," Rosie murmured, a smile breaking through the blank mask of indifference as her hands cradled Jennie's waist. "We normally don't do much talking."
"Mm," Jennie murmured, a hand threading through Rosie's hair as her nose skimmed her cheek, "well, we could talk if you wanted to. Seeing as you didn't come here looking for anything else."
Rosie's lips brushed the side of Jennie's neck, parting and exhaling a shuddering laugh, hot against her skin and making Jennie shiver slightly. Goosebumps rose on her skin and Rosie could feel the pounding of her heart at her pulse point, leaving a trail of kisses up to the hollow beneath her ear.
"I did come for the sex too," Rosie admitted, voice coloured by faint amusement, "it seemed a bit insensitive to lead with that though. But if you'd rather talk ..."
"We can talk after."
But conversation never came as Jennie drifted off to sleep afterwards, her warmth burrowing into Rosie's side as the singer lay there, wide awake with a troubled look on her face as she looked down at the sleeping figure. Jennie's brunette hair was splayed across the pillows, bruised lips parted as she breathed slowly, and Rosie felt her body hum with the tense energy of laying beside her.
Sleep evaded her, and Rosie spent the night staring up at the ceiling until a greyish pre- dawn light started seeping in around the edges of the curtains, the shadows lightening and a weary resignation instilling itself in her. Her body was leaden and a knot in her stomach made her reluctant to go, especially having to wake Jennie up in the process - Rosie wasn't so shameless that she could bring herself to sneak out without a word, but she regretted that all the same, with how drawn Jennie had looked the night before, and how peaceful she looked now.
Still, she pressed a cool hand to Jennie's warm shoulder blade and gently shook her, having to try again with a little more vigour to wake her up. Jerking up onto her elbows, Jennie looked around with wild eyes, first at Rosie and then to the alarm clock on the other side of her, before she slumped slightly, turning back to the singer. Her face softened with a bleary-eyed smile as she leant over and chastely kissed Rosie, before flopping back down onto her pillow and burying her face into it.
With a quiet chuckle, Rosie traced circles over her exposed tanned back, an ache inside her from the casual affection that Jennie so carelessly bestowed upon her, which meant nothing. Nothing at all but the ghost of a habit long since forgotten about. It filled Rosie with so much love that her chest filled up like it was going to burst and she had to take a deep breath to settle herself. The tightness didn't abate though, and the urge to cry snuck up on her unannounced and surprising, the telltale stinging blinked away as Rosie looked back up at the ceiling and tried to swallow around the lump in her throat.
"I have to go," she whispered, unsure if Jennie had drifted back off again.
Her voice was faint, a tremor in it as she slowly eased herself up, the bitterness of it making her mouth dry as she looked down at Jennie. A faint grunt of annoyance was muffled by the pillows as Jennie reached out with a fumbling hand for Rosie. A choked laugh worked its way up her throat as she smiled slightly, reaching out to pick up Jennie's hand and press a kiss to the back of it.
"I'll see you in Chicago," Rosie murmured.
"You could stay," Jennie mumbled, a plea in her voice.
Thumbing the back of her knuckles, a fleeting smile graced Rosie's face before she set Jennie's hand down and slipped out from under the blankets. "We both know I can't."
"You're supposed to do what makes your heart happy, baby."
Rosie flinched at the endearment and was silent as she climbed to her feet. Stooping over to find her clothes, she pulled on the sweatshirt and turned around, cheeks pink as she found Jennie looking up at her, her eyes narrow slits as she fought back the urge to fall asleep.
"Yeah, well ... I'm working on it," Rosie muttered.
She was curt and hasty, finding her jeans and pulling them on, leaving the rest of her clothes where they'd been scattered and lost, before she shoved her feet into her shoes and located her purse and phone on top of the dresser. There were a few messages and missed calls, not from anyone important or about any missed obligations, but it only fueled Rosie's quick exit, like she'd been doused with cold water. Woken up from the dream that were the nights spent with Jennie.
"I'll call you," Rosie said, giving her a brief smile and pausing to duck down and quickly kiss Jennie's cheek, a friendly parting. Nothing more to it than an assurance that things weren't getting complicated. More complicated than they already were, which already felt like too much to Rosie as she struggled to keep all the threads straightened out.
"Let me know when you're home," Jennie said, sounding lost and confused as her brow creased.
"I will."
She left quickly after that, flagging down a cab from the sidewalk as the city glowed orange from the streetlights, the sky purple and cloudy, already awake despite the earliness of the day. Stopping at her hotel, Rosie gathered her bags and got into the car scheduled to pick her up, falling into a trace as the car hummed beneath her and she stared empty-eyed out at the passing view.
The flight was quick, as well as the following couple of weeks, spent drinking too much coffee as she paced around her house and thought of Jennie. Lisa had to all but drag her out for a girls night with a few friends, and it was a nice distraction but didn't do much to pull Rosie out of her thoughtful silence. The main excuse she gave for her absence was work, and it seemed to go over well with everyone but Lisa, who knew her penchant for isolation.
In truth, it was a lie, even though Rosie had been working on the songs for her next album. She'd written over a dozen or so potential songs so far, still trying to find the sound of it, the story she wanted to tell, the production of it all, staying on the phone late with Brainy as they muddled through her thought process. Of course, a lot of them were about Jennie, because who else would
they be about? But some of them were bittersweet and tragic and she wasn't sure if it was the right album to include them on, but she didn't know what else needed to be said. There was still time, of course, but Rosie couldn't bring herself to focus, too restless and tense with all her bottled up feelings.
Despite her promise to call Jennie, Rosie didn't reach out. She messaged her when she arrived back in Busan but had remained radio silence since then, even though all of her thoughts were monopolised by Jennie, the strange hold she still had over her, the deep, hidden love that Rosie still had for her in her heart. Guilt clawed at her for her silence, but she could feel her resolve wavering, fraying at the edges even as she tried to pull herself back together again.
She loved her so much. She loved Jennie more than anything else in the world, even after all this time, and all she wanted to do was make her happy. That would make Rosie's heart happy. To hold her tight and tell her that she loved her. But Jennie didn't love her anymore and it tore Rosie apart inside. And she tried to tell herself that she was only still hung up on Jennie because no one had taken her place yet, but Rosie wasn't looking for a replacement. She loved her and she missed her and it left the biggest hole inside her and Rosie couldn't even sleep without her there.
For two weeks, she barely slept, everything coming to a boil until she thought she would finally snap, the pressure in her chest making it hard to breathe as she lay there in the middle of the night, crying. Her heartache gripped her heart and made her feel like the walls were closing in on her, the feeling of being too hard to love leaving her wallowing in self-pity and self-loathing, wondering what she lacked that made the one person she did want incapable of staying.
And of course, the easy answer was the fact that she was trapped, but Rosie couldn't help but think there was some flaw to herself, some awful deterrent that forced Jennie away. A part of her that was so repulsive that no one would ever stick around; not even her fake relationships stayed, and that was saying something. She was so intolerant and closed off from everyone that she couldn't even suffer through a long-term relationship with people she barely had to see.
Rosie wished she could go back and change things, but she knew she could never go back to the person she'd been before all of this. For all the things about her that had never stayed the same, she'd changed and grown - not always for the best - and sometimes that felt good, it felt refreshing to know that her mistakes hadn't held her back, her career flourishing even when other areas of her life wilted. And some days it was all she could do to open her eyes and not think about all the things that still hurt, all the mistakes and the shameful decisions she'd made that had led her to that moment.
Sometimes she wondered if she was even happy at all as she numbed herself to the bad feeling brewing inside her, stamping them down as the twisted and knotted, trying to overwhelm her, and in the process, switching off anything good that might've made itself known. There was a monotonous emptiness to her life, with fleeting moments of bright light cutting through the darkness inside her, chasing away the clouds as the sun shone for a time, over dinner with friends, the triumph of a newly finished song, a new award, a night with Jennie. The things that brought her to life were few, despite the world spread out before her for her taking. Without a tour to distract her, Rosie didn't quite know what to do with herself.
It was almost a relief when there was a knock on the door two weeks after her return, just after dusk, the sky still clinging to a hint of violet as stars winked into existence through the veil of pollution that shrouded the city. Surprised by the unannounced visitor, given the fact that a handful of people knew she was living there, Rosie's forehead furrowed and she softly sighed.
"There's someone at the door. I'll call you tomorrow."
"Okay. Get some rest; you sound tired," Clare said on the other end, sounding more exhausted than Rosie felt, guilt sparking inside her as she thought of her mum in London, too far from Rosie's help.
"Yeah, I will," Rosie murmured, "let me know what the doctors say."
"Probably just the same as always," Clare said with faint amusement.
"Well ... let me know anyway."
"I will. I love you, Rosie."
Closing her eyes as she drew in a shuddering breath, Rosie's mouth thinned with concern as she replied. "I love you too. Bye."
Hanging up, she tossed the phone onto the sofa, beside the docile dog staring up at her with dark, liquid eyes, and she shuffled towards the door, slow and weary, shoulders slumped with a permanent air of tiredness that hollowed out her face. Pulling open the door she was taken aback by the sight of Jennie standing on the stoop of the back door, a denim jacket against the chill as her face softened into a smile.
"Hi."
"What're you doing here?" Rosie blurted out, eyes widening as her eyebrows rose. "I mean- you've finished shooting?"
With a quiet laugh, Jennie stepped inside, skirting around Rosie, and gave her an accusing look, somewhat amused but with an undercurrent of hurt. "Well, I would've told you but you didn't call," Jennie pointedly replied.
Flushing with embarrassment, Rosie ducked her head down and let out a strained laugh, "yeah, I, uh, I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Jennie lightly assured her, hand grazing Rosie's forearm before she continued on further into the house.
Trailing after her, Rosie rubbed at her forehead, masking a wince of guilt as she scrambled for an excuse. She didn't really have one though, beyond the truth of admitting that it was hard to be around Jennie when she was still so in love with her. Pathetically, tragically in love with no end of it in sight.
"I've been busy," Rosie managed to get out, unconvincing and flat.
"Mhm," Jennie idly replied, kicking off her shoes and flopping down onto the sofa, pulling Hank into her lap and cooing over him as he spun around in circles, riling him up as she rubbed his back. She looked up at Rosie through her lashes, solemn and patient. "What's wrong?"
Choking on a laugh as she made her way into the kitchen and set the kettle on to boil without question, Rosie leant back against the counters and smiled thinly. With a lazy shrug of her shoulders and the inability to meet Jennie's eyes, she tapped her bitten nails against the cupboard doors.
"Nothing's wrong," she assured her.
"Okay," Jennie accepted in stride, fully looking up as she raised her eyebrows expectantly, "what's changed then?"
"Changed?" Rosie echoed, turning around and busying herself by pulling out cups for tea.
With a withering sigh, heavy and pointed, Jennie leant back on the sofa, Hank having calmed down and curled up in her lap as she rubbed him behind the ears. "You left Nashville awfully fast and I haven't gotten anything but radio silence since, so I'm just wondering what changed? Did I do something last time or do you- do you not want to do this anymore or ... I don't know. Just give me something, Rosie."
A wan smile graced Rosie's face as she filled a milk jug and gently set it down on the little serving tray, finding comfort in the routine preparation of tea, even as her shoulders tensed.
"I left Nashville so fast because I had a flight to catch and didn't mean to stay at yours all night, and if Irene and Hyeri - or, God forbid, Chanyeol - found out why I was there, I would've been ripped apart for being reckless and stupid and risking my career for ... what? And I've been busy because while I was in the Bahamas, Jungkook and I hatched a plan to get me out of my contract with Jaehyun by dating him instead, so I'm sorry that I haven't been able to call you every day and see how you are, but you didn't exactly reach out to me either, or else you would've known all this. But like you said; I didn't know we were supposed to be checking up on each other."
With a sheepish smile and pink cheeks, Jennie hunched slightly, "yeah, I guess I walked into that one."
Closing her eyes as she let out a quiet scoff of laughter, Rosie sighed as the kettle clicked off and quickly filled up the china teapot. Carrying the laden tray over to Jennie, she set it down on the coffee table - a little too heavy-handed - and flopped down beside her, giving her a flat look.
"Just a little," Rosie softly agreed.
"I just- I feel like there's so much I don't know about you now," Jennie said, looking down
at her lap as she continued to stroke Hank's velvety fur as he lay with his eyes closed, blissful and still. "I don't like not knowing what's going on in your life. If you're okay or-"
Leaning back, Rosie stretched her arms out along the back of the sofa and tipped her head back, eyes closed as she breathed in deeply through her nose. "There is a lot you don't know about me," Rosie murmured, an aching note of sadness to her words, "and there's a lot I don't know about you. And that's just the way it is."
"But I always used to know what you were thinking. You were always terrible at hiding your thoughts. Now it's like looking at a brick wall."
"It's self-preservation," Rosie murmured, her lips twitching into a faint smile, "I was never a good liar but I've had to become one, because what's the alternative? If people know my weaknesses they'll burn me at the stake."
Leaning into her, Jennie looked at her with questioning eyes. "You mean me?"
Bumping her shoulder, Rosie gave her a small smile, "no, but I wouldn't want to give them the chance anyway. I just- I have to keep so much to myself, and yeah, I used to tell you everything, but things are different now."
"I'm worried for you," Jennie admitted.
Scrubbing a hand over her face as she shifted forward, reaching for the teapot, Rosie let out a strained laugh. "Me? I'm fine. The new album's coming along great. I'm on the verge of being newly single. What could be better than that?"
Jennie softly sighed as Rosie poured them both tea, making it to their liking without hesitation. Taking a scalding sip, Rosie set her cup back down on the coffee table and leant back, settling into position with her arm slung over the back of the sofa. She gave Jennie a faint smile of assurance.
"I'm fine."
Cuddled into her side, Jennie cocked her head to the side and looked up at her with lamblike concern, her wide brown eyes innocent and wary. Reaching up, her fingertips ghosted over Rosie's cheek, just beneath her eye, where the purple bruises of sleepless nights were etched into her pale skin.
"You look exhausted."
Closing her eyes beneath the gentle warmth of her touch, Rosie slowly exhaled, relaxing into the couch pillows as she reached up to take Jennie's hand in her own. "I've just had a lot on my mind," Rosie whispered. "Trying not to rely on the pills so much too."
"You can tell me about it," Jennie quickly said, pulling her hand back as she reached forward for their tea, handing Rosie's off to her and folding her legs beneath her as Hank snorted with indignation and jumped down. "We can just- we can talk."
"You didn't come here to talk."
"I think I did," Jennie murmured, "I think ... I just need to know that things aren't different. You keep so much to yourself, and I know why you do, but I just- I miss being your friend. So can we just be friends for tonight?"
Tipping her head forward as she cradled her tea in one hand, Rosie rested her forehead against Jennie's as she stroked the back of her head with her other hand. The tension in her chest abated slightly, the ache lessening as it bled out of her, and there was a tremor inside her as she replied.
"Yeah, we can be friends."
As was their custom, they ended up staying awake half of the night, falling into easy conversation and familiar teasing over tea and the leftovers of a cherry pie Rosie had made two days prior. And with each passing hour, things felt normal, like they did it every day, and their laughter filled the cold house until it didn't feel so lonely.
Dawn was only a few hours off when they lapsed into a comfortable silence, both nursing the dregs of their last cup of tea as they blinked back the stinging in their eyes. Rosie absentmindedly stroked Jennie's knee as Jennie leant into her, both of them lost in their own thoughts as the lateness of the night blanketed them.
"I never realize how much I like being home unless I've been somewhere different for a while," Jennie mused after a long while, her voice full of sleep as she slouched lower on the couch, legs stretched out to the coffee table.
The implications struck Rosie like a blow from a hammer, even though she was sure Jennie didn't realise it herself. She spent so much time at Rosie's place, when in Chicago, that it was hardly surprising to think of it as a sort of home for her, but Rosie couldn't help but think of what their own home together would be like.
Squeezing her eyes shut to chase away the thought, she swallowed thickly and straightened up in her seat, shifting Jennie with her. "It's late. I think I might head to bed."
She offered no invite, no choice for Jennie to make, no opportunity for the bitter sting of rejection. With an air of indifference, at complete odds to the part of her that wanted to ask her to stay, Rosie leant forward and set her cup down, before raking her fingers through her hair and climbing to her feet. Looking down at Jennie with an expectant look of wariness on her face, she watched her climb to her feet and step over her shoes. A clear sign.
Jennie could've left if she wanted to, with none of their usual obligations to stay after late- night trysts, but she walked ahead of Rosie, all the way to her bedroom, stretching her arms and yawning wide enough to make her jaw click. Silently shadowing her, Rosie fetched herself pyjamas and tossed some to Jennie as well, before disappearing into the bathroom to change and brush her teeth.
When Jennie walked in and picked up a toothbrush, Rosie blinked in surprise. She couldn't say when the toothbrush had appeared there alongside hers, only that she'd never given it much thought. Jennie had made herself at home without Rosie even realising, and uneasiness knifed through her with the bleak sinking feeling that things were getting too deep for them to dig themselves back out of again without facing the repercussions of their actions. What had started as a simple no-strings agreement had evolved into toothbrushes and late-night conversations, the absence of her aching and sore like a missing tooth, the slow but sure decline into feelings Rosie had halfway clawed herself out of. If she wasn't careful, she'd end up drowning in them again.
Neither of them spoke as Rosie checked the curtains were properly shut and Jennie pulled back the covers, or when they slipped beneath them on either side, on the sides that they always claimed unspoken, as if it was a shared space. Rosie didn't say anything, but she could tell that Jennie wanted to, or wanted her to. But she didn't say anything either, just rolled away and laid there beside her.
Rosie was left staring at the ceiling, wanting to look at Jennie, wanting to put her head on her chest and pretend that they loved each other completely. Just for a little while. Instead, she closed her eyes and listened to the sound of her heart and Jennie's shallow breathing. The silence weighed heavily on Rosie as she lay still, her mind racing as she waited and waited until she couldn't handle the silence any longer.
"I'm glad you came over," Rosie whispered to the dark.
The mattress jostled as Jennie rolled over to look at her, her face a dark, indistinguishable shape in the dimness of the room, and Rosie couldn't bring herself to look at her. She turned onto her side and closed her eyes at the press of Jennie's warm hand against her spine, right between her shoulder blades, a comforting weight that seemed to burn right through her and chase away the heartsickness.
"Tell me a secret," Jennie said after a long while.
But Rosie was quiet. And after a while, a painfully silent while, Jennie must've thought she'd fallen asleep, and so Rosie pretended to be asleep, feeling the press of her face against her hair as a featherlight kiss was placed to her shoulder before Jennie rolled back over and burrowed down under the blankets.
And then it was an age longer, as Rosie lay there with a hollow trembling in her chest and a lump in her throat as her eyes smarted with pricks of tears, that she whispered quietly, almost inaudibly, her big secret. Eyes squeezed shut as tight as she could, she forced it out between wobbling lips, a breathless murmur that made something inside Rosie burst.
"I love you."
Saying it made it feel more true. After so long of not saying it, of keeping it bottled up, even though it was so plainly obvious how she felt, the depth of her feelings - obvious to everyone but Jennie, apparently - it was like something snapped inside Rosie's chest with the simple truth. And Rosie had the feeling that the more she said it, the stronger it would feel over time. And eventually this truth she'd fought so hard to stifle, to snuff out, would weave itself back into every fibre of her reality once more. It was with a feeling of dread, like she'd released something that should've stayed locked away, that Rosie fell asleep.
Something woke her early the following morning, the sky beyond the windows still clinging to a faint rim of orange as the sun climbed higher, and Rosie's face crumpled with disgruntlement. She could've done with another twelve hours of sleep, preferably, yet her skin prickled with the nagging sensation that something had woken her up. Her mind cleared quickly, shaking off the fog of sleep as she bolted upright, blinking rapidly as she strained her ears, listening.
And there. The sound of muffled footsteps on the staircase. Very few people knew Rosie was staying at that house on Cornelia Street, let alone had a key. And for the ones who had keys ... it didn't bode well for Rosie. Scrambling out of bed, jostling the mattress enough to stir Jennie, Rosie crept around the bed and glanced back over her shoulder. Jennie looked at her through slits, brow creased with disgruntled confusion, and Rosie pressed a finger to her lips before opening the door and stepping out of the bedroom.
Rubbing at her bleary eyes, Rosie cleared her throat as she walked through the house, down to the second floor, where she came upon Irene, Hyeri and a young, brunette woman that was unfamiliar and startled Rosie more than the unease at having her manager and publicist present while Jennie hid upstairs.
"Um, morning," Rosie slowly said, quickly reaching up to ruffle her hair into something neater, "did I have ... an interview today?"
"This is Doyeon," Irene off-handedly replied, setting her bag down on the coffee table and making for the fridge. "She's my new PA."
Masking her surprise, Rosie moved forward, hand extended and gave the young woman a warm smile as she shook hands and introduced herself, her words cut off by Irene as she fished a glass bottle of some juice from the fridge and spoke over her.
"She's already signed an NDA and all the other documents so feel free to speak frankly in her presence. Perhaps about who snuck in here last night and why."
Mouth opening and closing as a hot flush crept into her pale cheeks, Rosie crossed her arms over her chest and feigned naïvety, her chin rising a fraction in a haughty manner. "Sorry, what are you talking about?"
With a heavy sigh and the roll of her eyes, Hyeri primly arranged herself on the sofa, inching away from Hank, whose tongue lolled as he looked up at her, and she gestured for Doyeon to take a seat.
"Don't deny it; Doyeon was sitting in a parked car across the street from the back gate."
"You're spying on me?" Rosie exclaimed, her face tensing with anger as the flush darkened.
"Spying is such an ugly word," Hyeri drawled, dismissing the accusation with a wave of her hand, "it implies a lack of trust, but we both trust you, Rosie. We're on your side, we work for you , not for Park Chanyeol. And it's our job to nip anything harmful in the bud and stop things from leaking to the press. I wish you would've come to us instead of sneaking around, but we need to work out a plan. All of us. So, if you can go and fetch Jennie for us, that'll be great."
Rooted to the spot for a few seconds, tense and seething as she struggled to restrain herself, Rosie looked at Hyeri for a long moment before turning on her heel and heading for the stairs. Her pace quickened as she took them two at a time and burst into the bedroom, where Jennie was lightly dozing. At the intrusion, her eyes opened and a soft smile crinkled the corners of them.
"You need to come downstairs," Rosie quietly urged her, feeling flustered and grey with worry.
Something on her face must've broken through Jennie's foggy mind because she was up in an instant, face a mask of concern as she reached out for Rosie, a dozen questions held at bay as she looked at her.
"Hyeri and Irene are here. They figured it out. They want to have a chat to ... I don't know, make a plan? Another cautionary tale perhaps?"
Rubbing Rosie's arm with a grim look on her face, Jennie nodded and guided her out of the room. They were quiet as they descended the staircase, Jennie calm and serene in contrast to Rosie's prickly annoyance.
"I'm going to make coffee," Rosie muttered as she bypassed the assembled team in favour of the kitchen, leaving Jennie to make effortless conversation with the other three women, charming them with her natural ease.
From the kitchen, Rosie was surly as she pulled out mugs and boiled water and loudly ground fresh beans, all the while rankling against the fact that she couldn't even struggle through the complications of a non-relationship without having people butt in. It was almost mortifying to have to explain that they weren't together, yet still have to subject herself to being policed, and it soured the whole arrangement that she'd made with Jennie. The purpose of it had been to evade the trappings of being jerked around like puppets to keep things a secret, and now they were almost certainly right back where they'd started. Feeling bleak and self-pitying, Rosie felt as if their days had suddenly become numbered.
"Do you need some help?"
She startled at the quiet, unfamiliar voice, chipper and friendly, and turned to blink at Doyeon. The assistant hovered a few feet away from her, bright brown eyes and a kind smile, yet a wide-eyed sense of awe about her as she nervously lingered back, unsure of herself in Rosie's presence. In the safety of her own home, Rosie so often forgot that she was a household name and it made her feel uneasy to play a part in the one place she should've been able to relax.
Nevertheless, she flashed her a quick smile, conscious of her pyjamas and bed hair and the fact that this stranger certainly knew more about her than she would've liked, Rosie waved a hand dismissively.
"No, no, it's fine. You're a guest."
"Technically you're my boss' boss, so ..."
A small huff of laughter worked its way up Rosie's throat at the surprising candour, and she shrugged nonchalantly, "I suppose I am. When did you get hired exactly?"
There was a note of scepticism in Rosie's otherwise light tone, a shrewd narrowing of her eyes as she tried to maintain nonchalance, yet still somewhat peeved by the fact that this doe-eyed brunette had been lurking outside her house all last night to catch her in the act. It soured Rosie's mood but she held herself in check, knowing that the accusation wasn't towards Doyeon. She wasn't even sure the assistant knew what she was getting herself into; Rosie almost pitied her.
"Last week," Doyeon said, moving to lift the kettle as it clicked off. "I recently moved here from New York."
"What brought you to Chicago?"
"Well, I graduated from Yale in Public Relations and spent some time as a personal assistant, managing models signed with a New York agency. From there, I moved to Chicago for the theatre scene. A friend put out some feelers for a new job when my last show wrapped up, and I ended up getting coffee with Irene and Hyeri last Thursday. I had no idea who their client was at the time but it sounded like a good opportunity."
Rosie lifted the lid off the French press as Doyeon poured a stream of boiling water into it and eyed her with interest. "Well ... if you ever need a hand with anything, just let me know."
A look of mild surprise flitted across Doyeon's face, clearly caught off guard by the earnest offer, and Rosie turned away from her to fetch cream and carry the coffee over to the trio who were deep in conversation. Interrupting as she thumped everything down a little heavy-handed, Rosie poured herself a cup and left it black, draining it quickly in two gulps before refilling it again as she glowered and started pouring cups for everyone else. Adding a touch of cream to one of the cups, she handed it off to Jennie without a word and settled down, leaving a large gap between herself and the unperturbed actress.
"So ..."
Sighing heavily, Irene's mouth thinned as she gave Rosie an exasperated look, an air of exhaustion about her as she fixed her own coffee to her liking and leant back. She looked at Rosie like she was dealing with a little sister, a thorn in her side that wouldn't abate.
"Don't be like that, sweetie. We're all adults here."
Chastened, Rosie jerked her chin forward in a stubborn set, teeth grating as she tried not to seem like a petulant child, sulking after being caught doing something wrong. In truth, she was partly embarrassed from their clumsy blundering about that she'd thought they'd hidden well, but they'd left a trail somewhere. Obviously.
"Well, let's get on with it then. I've got a banging headache," Rosie grumbled, rubbing at her forehead, which admittedly was throbbing, but was more so to do with the fact that she would've liked to avoid the ensuing conversation.
"So, you two are ... back together or what?"
"It's ... casual," Jennie slowly replied, glancing sideways at Rosie before she hesitated, "should I call my management?"
Irene and Hyeri shared a brief look before the latter replied. "It's not going to be anything formal. No contracts or the like; I can give Jihyo and Kyungsoo a call after and brief them, just so we're all on the same page. Unless ... do they know about this already?"
"No."
"Okay, well, that's fine. Again, we just want to make sure we're all on the same page. It would've been better if you'd told us sooner," Hyeri continued, her eyes shifting to Rosie, who squirmed beneath her gaze, "a dozen things could've gone wrong somewhere along the way. And just how long has it been going on for, by the way?"
Shrugging indifferently, Rosie focused on the exposed brick wall as she mused for a moment, "I don't know. A few months. How'd you find out anyway? Aside from the spying."
"Nashville?" Irene softly exclaimed, wincing slightly as she shook her head, "come on, Rosie, did you think we wouldn't figure out why you took an inland detour from the Bahamas instead of flying straight home? It took all but five minutes to put the clues together, and not least of all because we knew Jennie was already there."
"You knew that?" Rosie asked, her voice small as a pucker formed between her eyebrows.
"Of course we did!" Irene said with a faint laugh that turned into a groan, "honestly, it's like having two clients half of the time, when you're enough work as it is. Do you think we wouldn't have social media and news alerts on for Jennie just because you two weren't together anymore? It's still a risk; still a big fucking story if it leaks. So ... damage control. We need to know what we're going to have to potentially clean up."
Glancing at Jennie, who was lounging carelessly, sipping her coffee like they weren't expecting some sort of unified front on what exactly was going on between them, Rosie opened and closed her mouth for a few moments, floundering.
"I- nothing. There's nothing. I mean ... we barely see each other anyway so ... that's all there is."
"Okay, great. That makes it easier at least."
"But ... I do want out of the PR contract with Jaehyun."
Freezing, Hyeri looked at Irene, and Rosie looked at both of them, palpable tension in the air as no one spoke for the longest moment. Clearing her throat, Hyeri shifted forward, elbows on her knees and her head cocked to one side.
"Okay, well, is there a reason, because, with all of this, it might not be the best time-"
Shaking her head, Rosie cut her off, sounding almost smug as a ghost of a smile touched her stony face, "Jeon Jungkook and I have come up with our own arrangement. It's an indefinite timeframe but it'll work. He's my best friend, I mean ... doesn't that just sound like it'll work better? He's got a new boyfriend so he needs it as much as I do and he's not completely insufferable to be around."
"That's all well and good, but the contract with Jaehyun only has a few more months on it so ..."
"Are there any clauses with legal repercussions if we break it?" Irene asked.
"No, but there were agreements made by his party that he gets to claim the narrative of ending things. That could potentially backfire if it was spun in a negative light. Especially seeing as this was put into place to help dispel rumours that Rosie can't keep a man. We'll have no control over the public image of her if it plays out badly."
Running a hand through her hair, Rosie drained her cup and set it down before climbing to her feet. "Break it off, if you don't mind. Let them say what they want; I'll jump straight to Jungkook and we'll flood the news with as many public outings as you like. I promise. No complaints this time. Hell, I'll even go on tour with him if that helps."
There were a few mutterings between the two women as they shrugged and deliberated while Rosie stretched her arms out and cast a surreptitious glance at Doyeon.
"The tour might not be a bad idea, actually," Hyeri murmured, eyebrows rising slightly.
"Certainly couldn't hurt."
"I have connections to European agencies for getting them papped."
"I'll reach out to Jungkook's team. See if the arrangements can be made."
"I'll handle Jaehyun's. See if we can't put an amicable end to it."
Passing around the end of the sofa, Rosie's hand ghosted over Irene's shoulder on her way past, a knot of tension inside her unravelling as her shoulders slumped. Walking away, Rosie trilled a quick thanks over her shoulder as she neared the top of the stairs.
"Wait, where are you going. We're not done yet," Hyeri called after her.
"I'm going for a swim," Rosie shouted back.
Ignoring the mutters Rosie padded downstairs barefoot and stepped into the indoor pool room, breathing in the strong smell of chlorine as the dimness of the space enveloped her. She felt secluded and alone, a haze of steam curling up from the surface of shimmering blue. Standing on the edge of the pool, the basalt cold and damp with condensation, her skin rippled with goosebumps and she hovered for a moment, swaying unsteadily as her toes curled over the lip, until she gave into gravity.
Fully-clothed, Rosie tipped forward and rushed down to greet the surface of the water, breaking through it and submerging herself in the mercifully warm waters as she sank slowly to the bottom, exhaling a stream of bubbles in her wake. It felt like being cradled by a hot bath and her dark hair swirled around her head like black silk as her vision darkened by the waning light.
She would've been content to stay down there at the bottom forever, but reemerged for air a few moments later, her lungs burning and grateful as she breathed in the damp air. Sweatpants dragging in the current of the water, Rosie slowly made laps, back and forth, burning off some of her pent up energy, until her arms ached and her skin was flushed pink from the heat.
Heart beating quickly in her chest, Rosie dragged in a deep lungful of air and fought her way down to the bottom, heels scuffing along the slippery tiles as she waved her hands back and forth to keep her balance. Eyes closed, she listened to the brag of her heart and dwelled in the echoic silence of the pool, the sounds distorted around her, tranquil and soothing.
The strain on her lungs told her when it was time to resurface, and she pierced the water was a splash, pushing dark hair off her forehead as she blinked back black spots and let her eyes adjust. A tall figure was standing on the edge of the pool, hands in her pockets and a curious tilt to her head. Jennie smiled softly at the sight of Rosie's dark head bobbing in the water.
"They're gone."
Swimming the length of the pool with long, easy strokes, Rosie folded her arms on the edge and propped her chin on top, kicking her legs out behind her to stay afloat as she looked up at Jennie. "Did they say anything else?"
"Aside from grumbling about how much of a pain in the ass you are?" Jennie teased with a flash of her teeth, she lazily shrugged, "not really. Just going over the logistics of it all. They don't plan on telling Park Chanyeol-"
"How kind of them," Rosie dryly muttered.
Sinking down to a crouch, Jennie cupped her cheek in hand and looked down at Rosie with a grim weariness to her old eyes. "They're worried about you too, you know."
With a sigh, Rosie pushed off the edge, slipping into a quick backstroke as she stared up at the ceiling, stewing in her bitterness. " Everyone's concerned about me when it's trouble for them. They can't help sticking their nose in my business like I'm a child," Rosie scornfully replied, her loose-limbed relaxation locking up as tension crept back in.
"Don't worry, I told them that there's nothing for them to stick their nose into. Strictly platonic. So, unless they're planning on stopping you from having friends now ... I think we're in the clear. Still no public outings, of course. That's a bit too on the nose for their liking."
"Mm, well, I'll take what I can get at this point," Rosie sighed.
Jennie was quiet for a moment, crouching at the edge of the pool as she watched Rosie float on her back, drifting with her eyes closed. "Are you okay?"
"Grand. You should get in; it's nice."
"In pyjamas?"
"I mean, you can take them off if you want. I won't mind," Rosie coyly replied, a smile in her voice, "but they're also just pyjamas so ... yeah, hop in."
Hesitating, Jennie deliberated for a few moments, uncertainty written on her face as she chewed on her bottom lip. Raising her eyebrows in a taunting manner, a sly smile crossed Rosie's face as she trod water.
"I will pull you in."
With a snort of laughter, Jennie rolled her eyes and climbed to her feet, taking a moment to steel herself before she jumped in, spraying Rosie's face with water. Chuckling quietly, Rosie sucked in a deep breath and sank down into the depths of the cerulean water, her eyes stinging from the chlorine as she dove towards Jennie.
She grabbed her ankle, feeling her startle at the contact and let out a shuddering laugh of bubbles as Jennie kicked upwards, quickly followed by Rosie, who broke the surface still laughing.
"Asshole."
A torrent of water doused Rosie's face, the taste of chlorine making her cough and splutter as she wiped water from her eyes and splashed Jennie back. Their laughter echoed off the walls of the room, close and oddly muffled, and they subjected themselves to childish dunking and splashing and dragging each other under until they'd exhausted themselves.
Drifting on their backs, side by side, listening to the sound of the filter and the gentle lapping of the pool, they dwelled in comfortable silence for a few minutes, until Rosie stirred. Raising her head slightly as she turned to face Jennie, she found her already staring at her and gave her an uneven smile.
"Thank you for being there today."
"Sure. It was nothing."
"It wasn't nothing. Not to me, anyway."
Their hands gently brushed in the water and Rosie was seized by the itching urge to take hold of Jennie's hand and squeeze it tightly.
"Are they always like that?"
"You mean infuriatingly overbearing? Oh, just about. Where would I be if I didn't have three mothers coddling me at every turn, and apparently a new babysitter."
"I mean, you've got a lot more on the line than I do. Still, I wouldn't want that."
Making a small grunt of irritated agreement, Rosie closed her eyes and flexed her fingers. A small touch between her eyebrows made her open them again as Jennie smoothed away the crinkle that had formed, droplets of water trailing across Rosie's forehead at the touch.
"I wouldn't want it for you either," Rosie murmured, a lump forming in her throat, "but it's fine. Just one more album. One more tour."
"You won't sign with him again?" Jennie whispered.
With a scathing laugh that echoed sharply off the walls, Rosie wolfishly smiled, "we'll see. If I do, it'll be on my terms this time. I needed him more than he needed me last time, but I am the label at this point. It might sound cocky to say it, but it's true. I don't need Chanyeol anymore, and if I have to use that against him to get what I want ... we'll see, anyway."
"Good."
"Mm."
"And what will you do with your newfound freedom?" Jennie asked.
Her stomach knotted itself at the seemingly innocent implications behind the question. It would've been easy to be honest, to tell Jennie what she might've been hoping to hear. But it wouldn't change anything in the grand scheme of things. Rosie had to stop getting so hung up on the past and expecting the future to work out like she so desperately wanted it to. It never worked out like that. And to tell her that she'd do the thing that had ultimately been the destruction of their relationship just seemed like an unnecessary cruelty. Not least of all because Rosie didn't know if she wanted to yet.
'I don't know," she whispered, opting for a half-truth, "maybe I'll take a break. Sort some things out. Go somewhere where people don't know my name. Maybe even somewhere with no people. I think I'd like that."
"That sounds nice."
Either it was wishful thinking or Rosie actually heard a faint note of disappointment in Jennie's reply. It made her insides clench, a confusing feeling of conflicting emotions, a rollercoaster of soaring hopes and plummeting disappointment making her feel sick. Rosie really didn't know what was going on anymore; one moment she thought that she was okay with them being friends and the next just the mere thought of them possibly reconciling made her heartsick with eagerness.
"Yeah, it does," Rosie wearily replied, flipping over onto her stomach and paddling over to the edge of the pool.
Her clothes were sodden and heavy, puddling water onto the floor, as she hauled herself out in a shower of water droplets Pushing her hair out of her face, Rosie gave Jennie a half-hearted smile as she reached for a fluffy towel on the sideboard. Drying her face, Rosie shimmied out of her sweatpants as she watched Jennie watch her, only her eyes visible over the rippling water.
"Breakfast?"
Straightening up, Jennie gave her a solemn nod and made her way over to the edge of the pool, while Rosie abandoned her wet clothes and left them in a soggy pile. She fetched another towel and handed it off to Jennie, before making a swift exit. It felt silly to behave so skittishly and shy, like a schoolgirl with a crush, but Rosie's skin suddenly felt hot and the muggy air in the pool room to close, the breath getting caught in her throat.
Towel wrapped safely around her, she escaped to the third floor and felt the cooler air wash over her clammy skin. Heading straight into the bathroom, Rosie let the frigid water wash over her, slowly warming as she hurried to wash the chlorine from her skin and hastily shampoo her hair. She was just washing the suds from her hair when Jennie knocked on the doorframe, poking her head inside.
"Hi."
"I'm just finishing up," Rosie said, her voice slightly strained as she stared at the tiled wall. "You can come in."
Jennie brushed up against her as she stepped into the shower, her skin clammy and cold, making Rosie tense slightly. Finishing up, she gently urged Jennie further beneath the stream of hot water and slipped out, grabbing a fresh towel and brushing her teeth, feeling marginally better as she managed to pull herself together.
Slipping on a loose-fitting dress, her damp hair curling around her shoulders, Rosie padded downstairs and fed Hank before busying herself in the kitchen. The Memory of Trees played on the record player, drifting softly through the apartment as she opened the windows to the early spring coolness of the day outside, the sky a pale blue with glimpses of puffy streaks of clouds between the towering city.
Rosie swayed in the kitchen, lost in her own world as she hummed along to Enya and whisked eggs in a large bowl. French toast was sizzling in a large skillet as she chopped strawberries, tea steeping in the pot and Hank sniffing around her feet for scraps, when Jennie emerged dressed in borrowed clothes she'd raided from Rosie's closet. The t-shirt was a little short, showing a thin strip of her tanned midriff and the jeans were loose and cuffed. Jennie's eyes were impossibly brown as she grinned.
"Smells good."
"It's French toast," Rosie supplied, turning to carefully turn the thick slices of bread in the pan.
Setting the table as Rosie fished the golden bread out of the pan and piled up a plate, Jennie took a seat in a shaft of sunlight, limned in silver as she poured green tea into their cups, while Rosie made her way over to her.
Their late breakfast held the illusion of a perfect day as they listened to music and the sounds of traffic below, fresh city air and heavenly French toast and copious amounts of tea. Rosie basked in the company and the warmth of the sun of her pallid skin as she ate a proper meal for the first time in days, conversation coming and going as the mood struck them, otherwise leaving each other to enjoy their food and the soothing sounds of Enya.
"Any plans for today?" Jennie asked as she swallowed a mouthful and reached for her cup.
Lounging in her chair, plate empty and another cup of tea cradled in her hands as she sat with her head tipped back and eyes closed, Rosie hummed. "Mm, just dinner with Lisa tonight."
Cracking one eye open, she looked at Jennie for a long moment, taking in the way the sunlight glistened against her hair, the way she primly cut through the bread, the way her jaw muscles worked as she chewed methodically. Pressing her lips into a flat line, Rosie deliberated for a moment.
"You should stay."
"Hm?"
Straightening up and leaning forward, setting her plate aside, Rosie looked at her with open encouragement, a faint smile on her lips. "For dinner. I'm cooking so it's nothing fancy. I know you don't really know Lisa, but you should stay. Only if you want to, of course."
Eyebrows rising as she was caught by surprise, Jennie paused, knife and fork clutched in hands as she stared at Rosie. "Dinner? Sure, I'd love to."
"Okay. Great."
They cleaned up breakfast in a synchronised dance around each other, loading the dishwasher, fingertips brushing backs as they scooted past, hands grazing as they handed off bottles of syrup and dirty plates. And once they were done, left wiping damp hands on dishtowels with nothing to do, Rosie made a feeble excuse of working on music and escaped to the room she'd monopolised for work.
She figured she should at least make a show of trying and sat down at the upright piano lugged in for her personal use, one of her many diaries sitting on top with a black biro, waiting for her to finish off the last song she'd been puzzling through. Her heart wasn't fully in it though, and her mind even less so, too many distractions tearing her away as she muddled through absentminded scales, fingers running up and down the ivory keys with fluid ease.
Whittling away a few hours with the express intention of putting some space between her and Jennie, even though it wasn't lost on Jennie that she was only here because she'd asked her to stay, she played a particularly morose chord as frustration gripped her. At the same time, Jennie eased the door open with a slow creak and hedged inside.
"Hi."
Peering over her shoulder, Rosie shut her diary and put it back on top of the piano before twisting on the bench to watch as Jennie loped inside, awkwardly tall as she carried a glass of water inside.
"Thought you should probably hydrate. You've been at it for a while."
"Oh ... thanks."
"Any progress?"
Shrugging half-heartedly as she glanced down at the keys, Rosie grimaced. "Not particularly."
Setting the water down on top of the piano, Jennie stepped around the bench and sat down on the edge, sliding along as Rosie shifted to make more room for her. Elbows brushing, Rosie hated that her heart jumped at the contact.
"Play something for me."
Rosie's fingers dutifully found the keys as she started a familiar melody, until Jennie let out a quiet laugh, tipping her head to the side to rest on Rosie's shoulder as she gently shoved her.
"I meant of yours."
"I don't know what to sing for you," Rosie hedged, self-conscious and jittery.
"Sing me one of your new songs. From your next album."
Mouth opening and closing as she scrambled for an excuse, or for a scrap of a song that wouldn't dig her into a deeper hole than she could climb back out of. "I- uh, I don't know. I can't think."
"What were you working on?"
Floundering, Rosie reached up for her diary and opened it to the last page. There were the half-finished lyrics to a song called Getaway Car and she held it open limply in her hands as Jennie craned over to look. Shutting it, Rosie tossed it back up on top of the piano.
"It's called Getaway Car. It's not finished yet."
"What's it about?"
"I don't know. Bonnie and Clyde. Escaping. I was thinking about Jungkook helping me get away from Jaehyun ... and I guess he's just the getaway car. I mean ... he's not the happy ending, for obvious reasons. Just a means to an end, even if he is one of my best friends. It just had me thinking."
"Can I hear it?"
It was as safe a song as any Rosie could play for her from her latest batch of songs and she shrugged nonchalantly, her fingers finding the right keys. It wasn't supposed to be performed on piano, it was supposed to be upbeat, as far as she'd gotten into the production of it with Jongin, but it would have to do for now.
" It was the best of times, the worst of crimes I struck a match
And blew your mind, but I didn't mean it
And you didn't see it
The ties were black, the lies were white
And shades of grey in candlelight
I wanted to leave him
I needed a reason
X marks the spot
Where we fell apart
He poisoned the well, I was lyin' to myself
I knew it from the first Old Fashioned, we were cursed We never had a shotgun shot in the dark
You were drivin'
The getaway car
We were flyin'
But we'd never get far
Don't pretend it's such a mystery
Think about the place where you first met me We're ridin'
In a getaway car
There were sirens in the beat of your heart Should've known I'd be the first to leave
Think about the place where you first met me"
She played a few more keys before losing the thread and trailing off, feeling tongue-tied as she let her hands slide off the keys and into her lap. With a self-conscious laugh, she shrugged and raked a hand through her hair.
"I don't know. It's not completely finished."
"I like it."
"I think I'll put it on the album," Rosie quietly babbled, "it's supposed to be more ... pop, I guess. The piano doesn't really make it sound how I imagine it."
"Then I'm excited to hear it like you do," Jennie said, bumping her shoulder with hers.
With a quiet scoff, Rosie's eyebrows rose and fell quickly as she reached up and ran a quick scale, her hands itching to do something other than sitting idly in her lap.
"I think everyone hears it differently," Rosie murmured.
They were silent for a moment, sitting shoulder to shoulder, until Jennie suddenly leapt to her feet. With a light laugh, she quickly crossed over to the small orange tree in the corner of the room, beneath a window where it could get some sunlight, and she smiled widely as she caressed a leaf.
"You brought it with you?" she asked, glancing back over her shoulder.
A small smile softened Rosie's face as she lowered the fallboard back over the keys and turned to straddle the bench. "Of course I did. It goes with me wherever I'm living."
"I like that," Jennie stated, straightening up and turning to face Rosie as she leant back against the windowsill. "I like to think that there's a little part of us still growing, despite the rest of it."
"Yeah, me too," Rosie murmured, a faint crease between her eyebrows. "It's ... what, six years old now?"
"Six years ," Jennie sighed heavily, running a hand over her face. "We were so young. We really cared about each other though, didn't we?"
Reaching up for the glass of water, Rosie gulped it down, avoiding replying as pain lanced through her chest. She masked a wince as she set it back down and cleared her throat, hands on her knees. A sudden weariness washed over Rosie, bowing her against the weight of it as she let out a heavy sigh.
"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."
"You'd be somewhere else entirely," Jennie agreed, musing with a faint smile in her voice, "we'd both be different people."
And at that moment, Rosie didn't know if that would've been a good or bad thing.
-
"I definitely felt like things were starting to fall into place for me a little by that point," Rosie said, a thoughtful look on her face as she propped her chin upon her fist. "It felt confusing, all of the things with Jennie, but it felt like other things were getting better. Jaehyun's team actually took it well; I tricked myself into believing that there wouldn't be any repercussions from it. Unfortunately, I was so wrong. So horribly, terribly wrong. But it felt good at the time, to be on the same page with my team, to alleviate some of the stress of sneaking around from everyone , not just the public, and to just know that I'd have one of my dear friends by my side for the next leg of my high profile love life."
"But the two of you didn't last very long, did you?"
"Not long at all," Rosie agreed. "It was already ... I think it was the start of May when we were first photographed together. It was just after Jennie's birthday, yes. And we lasted the summer."
Cocking her head to the side, Nayeon raised an eyebrow, "why so short? I mean, you've said it yourself, he was the perfect cover."
With a wry smile, Rosie airily dismissed the question, "like I said, Jungkook was only the getaway car, not the happy ending. It was never going to last, but it worked while we both needed it to. After that summer, I didn't need him anymore, and it was a lot to put anyone through. I know he would've stuck by me as a public boyfriend, but I didn't want to put him through the levels of harassment I was experiencing. Instead, he was there as a friend, even when I disappeared. That was more important to me than what the public thought we were, and honestly, at that point, I stopped feeling like I owed them any sort of glimpse at my private life. Real or not."