Flashback to my mistakes
My rebounds, my earthquakes
Even in my worst lies, you saw the truth in me And I woke up just in time
Now I wake up by your side
My one and only, my lifeline
I woke up just in time
Now I wake up by your side
My hands shake, I can't explain this
Say my name and everything just stops
I don't want you like a best friend
Only bought this dress so you could take it off, take it off
Carve your name into my bedpost
'Cause I don't want you like a best friend
Only bought this dress so you could take it off, take it off
There is an indentation
In the shape of you
Only bought this dress so you could take it off You made your mark on me, golden tattoo
Only bought this dress so you could take it off
-
"It's funny how quickly my life turned around. Not completely, but it was a start. A good start. For so long I'd just ... spiralled. I didn't care about myself, I let other people take care of me like I was a doll. They fed me, they dressed me, they put their words in my mouth and told me where to go and when. And then I made a conscious decision to stop. To stop all of it, because I was so close to a very public breakdown. I knew I wouldn't come back from that and I didn't want that to be the thing that broke me. I'd survived a decade of being torn down and ripped apart, of heartbreak and being used; some guy wasn't going to be my downfall."
"You know, I'll be honest," Nayeon said with sheepish amusement, "I did think you had given up. When you disappeared for a year and no one saw you, I really thought that was the end of your career. It would've been a sad way to go, I'll admit that."
Running her tongue along the inside of her lip, Rosie shook her hair, faint amusement tightening her face as she tried to hide the bitterness. "It would've. I considered it too; I'd written songs about it before, about the celebrities before me who'd given up their positions at the top to vanish and enjoy their lives. It was appealing, I'll admit, but times have changed. Where could I go where I could live the life I wanted to in peace? Nowhere."
Brow furrowing slightly with a bewildered look, Nayeon gestured to her, "but you managed to hide well enough for that year, right?"
Inhaling, Rosie's cheeks filled with air before she slowly blew it back out, rubbing at the back of her neck, "I mean, I did. I wouldn't let them call the paparazzi at all when I was still in Chicago, so of course, I was seen less. That's the main form of exposure for celebrities; calling people to a certain location and having them take photos of you. It's all staged. But I'm, well ... easily recognisable. It's part of the job, I know, especially with the level of success I'd achieved by that point-"
"Which has grown even more since then," Nayeon interjected.
Gesturing to her as she nodded quickly, shoulders sloping as she leant forward in her seat, Rosie continued. "Exactly, but even then, with bad press circulating, I was recognisable. Fans come up to me and ask for autographs, people break into my houses, everyone stares when I'm walking down the street or sitting in a restaurant. In what world could I vanish and settle down with a woman and live a normal life, going to the shops and the beach and all of that, without ever being recognised? It wouldn't have been enough for me, to give it up and still live with that kind of exposure. I would never disappear and let them run stories about my love life when I'd intended to give it all up - not just my career but the publicity too - and undoubtedly, it would've gotten out. Eventually, it would've."
There was a solemn defeatedness of Rosie's face as she turned her eyes down to the floor, roaming over the patterns of the rug as she swallowed thickly. There was a heaviness in her chest, the old flicker of chagrin at the invasion of her privacy, the relentless hounding of the press and overzealous fans, the constant scrutiny that had worn her down over the years. It had taken Jaehyun and the aftermath of that fallout for Rosie to take a step back from social media, from interviews where her words could be misprinted or snippets of a video could circulate.
She still bristled at some of the things they said about her, but it no longer got in her head. The distance she'd put between herself and Instagram and Twitter had helped, and although she missed the silly, frivolous posts of parties with her friends or funny anecdotes, the closeness with fans that she otherwise would never interact with, it was a necessary precaution. Now, it was little more than a means to promote her work and the occasional event or subtle hint that it took months for her fans to cotton on to. She had breathing room again, and some semblance of a private life that stayed private. It had taken some pruning of certain friends and employees to assure that.
"Instead, I settled for getting my shit together. Now that wasn't easy."
-
It was miraculous what a few weeks could do. That morning after Jennie had stayed the night, Rosie woke feeling as if something had shifted inside her. Tired, yet burning with determination, she cooked up waffles and eggs for breakfast, her plate heaped with more food than she'd eaten in a while. She and Jennie sat at the dining room table, but Rosie didn't say much, pensive as she lost herself in her thoughts. Sensing her brooding air, Jennie left quickly after breakfast, the distracted answers tossed her way pointing towards Rosie's preoccupation.
Rosie didn't speak to her much over the following six weeks, holing herself up in her home as she poured out all her alcohol and emptied the pills into the trash, as she had Irene arrange for a meditation teacher to come by every morning, a chef to personally cook her meals and healthy drinks with whey protein and vitamins. With an inclination for staying up through the night to watch the sunrise on her balcony or through the windows, restless and exhausted, Rosie rectified that and quickly found herself rising with the sun, before journaling in the study and reading poetry for an hour as she drank tea.
She tried everything; hot baths with salts and oils, a massage therapist to come and work the kinks out of her muscles in the comfort of her rented home, ordered a weighted blanket and incense to burn for a soothing aroma drifting through the house. Copious amounts of tea and strictly no coffee, baking sugary desserts that helped make up for lost calories and the gnawing hunger in her slender frame.
In six weeks, the change was startling. The hollow exhaustion and weary slump to her shoulders from a worn-out body and defeated soul had perked up, her cheekbones less angular and eyes less sunken, the bruises fading to faint smudges as her brown eyes shone like polished jade. She had her hair done and garnered a faint tan from the hours spent on the balcony each morning, making her seem less washed out and sickly, her regular meals and better nights of sleep adding a few pounds. It was a start, at the very least.
And then she called a business meeting to inform her team and the record label that her album would be somewhat delayed. It didn't go over that well with Park Chanyeol, but there were looks of relief and pride in her team's eyes, Irene and Hyeri seeming to deflate slightly at the idea, at her newfound spark that wasn't born from snark and frustration. Citing a need for some time to look after herself, to work on her best work and remove herself from the public for a while, even Chanyeol finally relented, understanding the need to not jeopardise his biggest artist and income in his label.
Rosie actually felt okay again, somewhat alert and present, a rare serenity taking hold inside her as she completed simple tasks around her home, calling friends and family she'd neglected for weeks, if not months. Clare, she spoke to regularly, but even after a month, there was a liveliness to Rosie that her mother could see, a physical change, like a switch had been turned on. And Rosie could see that her mother was doing okay too, sounding pleased over Facetime as they talked for an hour one morning as Rosie enjoyed her shakshuka and a green smoothie, the chef having just left.
Everyone she spoke to commented on her sudden change, somewhat startled as she reached out to them, making plans, catching up on gossip and how their lives were going. It was as she was speaking to Talia, her oldest friend that she saw so rarely, that Rosie made the abrupt decision to have a party while mid-conversation, blurting out the proposal to her friend with the eager offer to fly her out so they could see each other. It had been months, since she'd been in Texas for Jungkook's concert, playing the part of dutiful girlfriend, since she'd seen Talia, let alone a whole host of her other friends that she'd missed dearly in retrospect, speaking to them having brought that ache in her chest to the surface.
"I'm having a party next week," Rosie told Hyeri on the phone on Friday, "it'll be a small one, I think. Nothing should leak - I hope not - but just in case."
"A party?" Hyeri dubiously replied, a chastising undercurrent to the words.
"Yes. I thought it might be fun. You know, seeing as the rest of my life has gone to shit."
"You've been sober for six weeks now; are you really going to throw that away so soon?"
Sighing impatiently, ire making her shoulders bunch as she grit her teeth, forcing herself to retain her air of pleasantness, Rosie leant against the railing of her balcony, the cool metal biting into her forearms as the wan sunlight warmed her back from overhead.
"Well it's not like I have a problem, is it? I'm not a- a habitual drunkard, I just- I was drinking a little bit too much and now I'd like to have a few friends over for drinks and music, and it'll be nice. You can come if you don't trust me."
Hyeri made a scathing sound on the other end, "you know trust isn't the issue. I'm just ... I'm proud of you. You really do seem a lot better, in just a few weeks, and I don't want you to ... spiral again. I thought you were going to be taking things slow, keeping a low profile and all that."
"I will! I won't even invite Jennie," Rosie assured her, quelling the flicker of guilt, "Chanyeol won't have anything to get all worked up about, I'll make sure I'm on my best behaviour, and you can even designate a babysitter for me. Just in case I look like I'm about to make a really fucking stupid decision. It'll be grand."
After a beat of silence, Hyeri grunted with reluctant agreement, "okay fine. I'm out of town next week though; Jiyong's publicist is fucking around so I'm going to meet with a few industry friends. Maybe I'll tell Doyeon to keep an eye on you."
"If you think it's necessary."
"Oh, don't be all sour about it. If things get any worse, you can kiss your million-sales streak goodbye. And that's if you can come back from this anyway - which is a big if mind you. If you're postponing the album, you'd better not pull any more shit between now and its release."
"I know, I know," Rosie grumbled, "I was thinking of going somewhere less crowded. Maybe. I don't know. I haven't thought about it much. Maybe even just London; my mum would probably like it if I went home for a bit. You know how she worries."
"That might be good. London's good. It might give you some time for things to cool down, get out of the spotlight and all of that."
"Mm, we'll see," Rosie murmured, "I've got to go though; Lisa's coming over for couples yoga and a Scrabble lunch session."
With a quiet chuckle, although she sounded somewhat relieved and pleased, Hyeri replied, "sounds good. Make sure you drink water."
Scoffing, Rosie rolled her eyes as her lips twitched with the ghost of a smile, "yes, mum. I know how self-care works. I'm even getting good at it again, how's that for progress?"
Clicking her tongue in admonishment, even as her voice softened with her retort, Hyeri sighed softly, "I'm glad, you know. Really, I am. I know it's not always ... easy for you. I wish we could've helped you earlier, but you really do seem better. Different somehow."
Wrinkling her nose, Rosie exhaled a snort of laughter, raking a hand through her hair, "yeah, well, someone reminded me that you can't help someone if they won't let you. And I got tired of beating myself up over everything, so ... I don't know, maybe it's for good. Maybe it'll stick this time."
"I hope so."
Swallowing thickly, Rosie hesitated for a moment, "look, I have to go. I'll call you tomorrow."
"Enjoy your yoga and Scrabble."
August rolled around with the first hints of autumn, cold winds sweeping through the city and overcast days bringing the excitement of the impending winter as summer started to fade. Rosie lazed around her home in knitted cardigans and sweaters, drinking peppermint tea and baking spiced cookies as the weather turned. There was a sense of peace to be found in the simple things she hadn't been able to appreciate in a long while. Something that warmed her soul to sit and read with Hank in her lap and The Smiths playing in the background as rain splattered the window. Her own townhouse and the adjoining condo had been finished for over two months already, the renovations completed while she was away with Jungkook, after being strung out for as long as she could possibly make it, always finding small things to work on that delayed the inevitable. It was costly to stay in the carriage house on Cornelia Street, but Rosie stayed, seeking comfort in the familiar creaky spots of the old wooden floorboards, in the little balcony overlooking the back gate, the wide windows thrown open to let in the balmy summer air, and now the child winds as autumn came along.
She would miss it when she left, this old house where she'd spent nearly a year. But Rosie would be lying if she said she'd prolonged moving back into her own home for any reason but Jennie. Here, she could sneak in through the garden gate, away from prying eyes as the paparazzi remained ignorant of her current residence there, away from anyone. Just the two of them and their cautious game, where Rosie understood completely that she was being strung along with no hope, that small part of her still clinging to the familiar instead of giving it up. And she didn't care. She didn't want it to end, she didn't want to give up Jennie. Jennie, who was dating other people, yet kept coming back to her, who insisted that they could never give it another go, because it would just fail again, like it had the last three times.
So Rosie would take what she could get and fork out the steep rent for a place for it to occur in, in peace. And Jennie didn't have to know that she loved her, that she was putting off the inevitable, even though they both knew it would end eventually. And once it ended, Rosie knew she'd never get that feeling back with anyone ever again, that they'd never come back from saying goodbye that last time. The thought of being strangers with Jennie if they saw it through hurt more than the thought of not being with her. The idea that she'd know the sound of her laugh anywhere, yet wouldn't even know what to say to her at some point in the future was so painful that it made her feel physically sick.
And so she paid the rent for another month and planned her party for that weekend, text messages sent out to the few invited, Jennie guiltily left off the list, as promised, even as she invited a host of their mutual friends. Rosie knew word would get back to her, and she further avoided texting Jennie to dispel the guilt that grew inside. Yet, even as she intentionally didn't invite her, Rosie found herself thinking of Jennie as she had Doyeon help her organise catering, as she sent her manager's assistant arranging racks of designer dresses to be brought to the apartment for her to try on for the occasion. Rosie picked the tight black one with Jennie in mind.
Talia arrived on Rosie's private jet late on Saturday morning, a waiting car swiftly bringing her to the carriage house where the two of them milled around the apartment, eating the lunch prepared by Rosie's chef and catching up on all the things they hadn't spoken about over the phone. Rosie shared everything with her, no doubt in her mind that her oldest friend always had her back and her secrets safely locked away.
As the afternoon rolled around and Doyeon started managing deliveries of alcohol and prepped food, a few culinary assistants monopolising the kitchen while Rosie stayed out of sight, Lisa arrived with a garment bag slung over one shoulder, looking as willowy and radiant as always. Talia had met her before and the trio fell into easy conversation as they got ready for the party, indulging themselves in the ordinary routine of getting ready. Curling each other's hair and applying false eyelashes and lipstick, opening up a bottle of white wine to kick things off early, Rosie quickly loosened up with her first drink in weeks.
With the black silk slip dress hugging her body, her blonde hair grown out to her collarbones gently waved and bold red lipstick giving her a vivacious look, Rosie felt more herself than she had in a long time, dressed up for herself with no pressure to keep her composure. She was somewhat pleased with herself for deciding to host the party, even just the presence of her two closest friends and a bottle of wine bringing out a side of herself that she'd sorely missed.
"Trying to impress someone?" Lisa commented with approval, brown eyes shining as she smiled, taking in the sight of Rosie primping and spraying herself with a bottle of French perfume.
Rolling her eyes, Rosie blotted her lips and looked at Lisa in the bathroom mirror, "she's not coming."
"What?"
"I didn't invite her," Rosie murmured, brow creasing as she glanced down, before she briskly washed her hands and dried them on a towel.
"Well that was stupid," Lisa grumbled, her lips curving downwards.
Turning around, Rosie let out a withering sigh and cupped her friend's cheeks in her hands, gently pinching them with affection as she laughed. "Lisa, I appreciate you trying to fix my mistakes, but ... I can't go back to that. And this night is about me. Me enjoying myself with my friends without any distractions."
Giving her a sad smile, Lisa patted one of the hands on her cheek, "is that what she is?"
Frowning, Rosie dropped her hands and waved a hand in an airy manner, "well ... she doesn't help with not distracting me."
"Okay, okay. But maybe ignoring her isn't the best way to go about getting over her. It's a bit of a dick move."
Covering her face, Rosie made a sound of frustration at the back of her throat, "okay, we are not talking about her tonight. Okay? No relationship talks. No ... exes talk, sleeping with people talk. We're going to have fun."
With a quiet laugh, Lisa arched an eyebrow at the heated insistence in Rosie's voice. "Is that an order or ..."
Sighing, Rosie poked her out of the bathroom, "stop spoiling my fun and have a drink with me. Everyone will be here soon."
The three of them grabbed drinks and Rosie pushed one into Doyeon's hand as the assistant lurked on the edge of the room, wary of infringing on the party which would soon be packed with some of the biggest celebrities from a number of areas. If she was going to be babysitting Rosie for the night, Rosie thought she should at least enjoy herself too. With music playing through the house as they sprawled around the living room on sofas, ottoman's and armchairs, they were soon joined by Jungkook and William.
It was already well past dusk, the night edging towards a late hour, and party guests slowly trickled in. Jongin and Seungwan had flown in, surprisingly hand-in-hand, much to Rosie's shock and delight, Krystal and a few of Lisa's other model friends she was acquainted with, Taehyung, Chahee and even Jisoo making a show. Sana Minatozaki showed up with her DJ equipment, offering her services which Rosie readily agreed to, and even Kim Suho turned up with his new girlfriend, Tiffany, their cordial friendship after their PR stunt warranting an invite, considering the amount of mutual friends. Perhaps most awkward of all was Jisoo showing up with Seulgi, Lisa sheepishly admitting she'd told her to come, not realising Jennie wasn't invited, but Rosie's discomfort evaporated quickly with the glass of wine in hand and the pulsating bass coming from Jongin's DJ setup.
Feeling comfortable in her own home as she worked the room, a smile wider than she'd had in weeks stretching across her face as she caught up with old friends and was introduced to guests they'd brought. Doyeon served as her shadow as she made the rounds, taking food from the scattered trays and enjoying drinks, and Rosie found herself content. It had been a good idea, and although she stuck to white wine to keep herself in control, she felt the pent up tension of the day dissipate as the anxiety of everyone enjoying themselves was silenced.
Eventually, she approached Jisoo, somewhat reluctant but still unable to bring herself to be rude and ignore her. After all, they did get along well when the awkward presence of her sister wasn't standing between them. Rosie gave her a sheepish smile as she found herself standing before her and Seulgi, aware of the uncomfortable predicament the trio found themselves in, one being the sister of Rosie's legitimate ex, and the other the sister of her PR stunt-turned public enemy.
"Hi," Rosie greeted them with false brightness, accepting a warm hug off Seulgi as she smiled widely at her, "I'm glad you both could make it."
There was that moment of unease as she met Jisoo's gaze, not quite knowing where they stood, although the other woman's posture was relaxed and friendly as she held a bottle of beer in hand. "I haven't seen you in a while," Jisoo coolly replied, a piercing appraisal in her dark eyes, "how've you been?"
With a wavering smile, Rosie brushed the question aside and let out a nervous laugh, "oh ... you know."
Rolling her eyes, Seulgi looped her arm through Rosie's and gave her a sheepish smile, "I'm sorry my brother is being such a colossal asshole."
A startled laugh came from Rosie as her eyebrows rose, "yeah? I think I've been an asshole too, you know." Her eyes slid to Jisoo's as she spoke, a spasm of pain and remorse flashing across her face. "Did you tell her you were coming?"
"Yeah," Jisoo said with a small smile, "she understands, you know. You two ... I don't know what fucked up thing you've got going on, but I know it's not easy for either of you, but she understands."
Wrinkling her nose as she looked away, ruffling her hair, Rosie winced slightly, "no, I think I should've invited her."
Standing in that room full of people, of friends and acquaintances, Rosie found that, really, the only person she wanted to be with right then wasn't in the room. Head pleasantly fuzzy from the wine and her lowered tolerance from her brief reprieve from alcohol, Rosie felt the world shrink to that moment, that blindsiding moment of desperation as the itching urge for Jennie seized her.
She managed a strained smile and shouted encouragement for them to have fun over the loud music before moving on. Working her way through the crowd, tossing fleeting smiles at friends, hands on lower backs as she held snatches of conversations with people she passed by, she drained her glass of wine and poured herself another, before eating three mini quiches, a few stuffed peppers and tiger prawns and then draining her next glass.
Making another round, she ended up beside Jongin, DJing for a little while as they laughed and talked while people danced, then moved onto a discussion with a music executive, Momo, who was the CEO of a label called JYP. Rosie wasn't entirely sure who invited her or how she'd ended up there, but she found herself talking to her for longer than anticipated, absolutely fascinated by the woman standing before her as they drank and the fog in her mind spread. Eventually, after a duet with Jungkook and a few sloppy photos taken with Lisa and Talia and Seungwan, Rosie found herself tired.
Not physically, but she'd tired of the party. She was almost seized by the urge to tell everyone to leave, to clear out the place so she could drink a glass of water, down some aspirin and go to bed. Her earlier exuberance turned to brooding silence and without making a conscious decision, she soon somehow found herself standing outside on the sidewalk, trying to flag down a cab as the bitter wind clawed at her thin dress and hair.
She gave the cab driver the address and slumped in the backseat, feeling the effects of the wine as she rested her head back against the peeling leather of the old car, the sounds of the city fading as her heartbeat thumped in her ears, the smell of wine clinging to her as her heavy eyes slid closed. Lulled by the swaying of the car, she fell into a stupor and was only pulled out of it when her phone started ringing. Doyeon.
"Hello?"
"Miss Park? Where are you?"
"I'm going home."
"Home? I- you- the party is at your house."
With a gentle sigh of laughter, Rosie's lips twitched into a rueful smile, "a house isn't a home, Doyeon."
Hanging up without another word, Rosie slumped in the back of the car as it wove through the city, finally coming to a stop outside the apartment building. It was then that Rosie realised that she didn't have her purse with her, nothing but her phone, and with a surprised look of dismay, she blurted out an apology to the cab driver as she fumbled with her phone.
[Rosie]: outside
[Rosie]: I forgot my purse
[Rosie]: cab is waiting
Her phone buzzed a moment later and she squinted at the screen, her vision blurry even with the contacts she was wearing.
[Jennie]: wrong person
[Jennie]: I hope you're having fun x
[Rosie]: I'm outside your apartment
[Rosie]: please come down
The phone darkened with an incoming call a heartbeat later as the cab idled, and Rosie closed her eyes as she pressed the phone to her ear, guilt creeping up on her.
"Hi."
"What do you mean you're outside."
"I- I came to see you," Rosie mumbled, tripping over her tongue with embarrassment, "I didn't bring my purse. If you can- if you come down I can- I'll pay you back."
Jennie sighed on the other end of the phone, a heavy weariness to the sound, but her voice was warm and slow as she replied, "oh, don't worry about that. I mean, I don't mind of course, only that ... well, I'm not home."
"Oh."
"I'm at the bar in the Bowery Hotel lobby. Get the cab to bring you there."
"Oh ... okay."
They hung up and Rosie sheepishly gave him the new address, although she wasn't sure he really minded with the fee ticking upwards, and she settled in for the ride to the hotel bar, blearily staring out at the darkness as she felt exhaustion wash over her.
It was a long drive across town and she saw Jennie huddled in a long coat beneath the eaves of the door to the bar, leaning against the tall windows as amber light spilt out of the gilded room within. Rosie had been there numerous times, amidst the plush furniture and crimson velvet, the smell of old wood, smoke and liquor a permeating scent that spoke of old money and luxury. She'd even been there with Jennie before, on a drastically different night, perching on bar stools in the panelled room, the rafters and plush rugs making the room seem big, yet cosy.
This time, she didn't go inside. Pushing the cab door open, she managed to duck her head outside, sucking in a lungful of cold air as she watched Jennie move towards the car, shoulders hunched and eyes trained on Rosie. There was an unsteady quality to her steps from a few drinks herself, and Rosie looked up at her with wide, apologetic eyes, expecting to see irritation on Jennie's face.
"I'm sorry, I-"
"Push over," Jennie interrupted, hand on top of the cab as she ducked her head down, a lopsided smile on her face as Rosie blinked up at her, a lining of silver in her brown eyes as mortification and conflicted feelings got the better of her.
"You don't have to-"
Making a shooing motion with her hand until Rosie scooted over, Jennie slipped in and slammed the door shut, curtly greeting the driver as she buckled her belt and directed him back to her place. Rosie stared at her from the deep shadows of the back corner, looking regretful and meek when Jennie glanced at her.
"It was getting late anyway."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I was just meeting up with an old friend in town. I've had one too many already."
With a breathless laugh, Rosie blinked back the burning feeling in her eyes as she hung her head, "I didn't mean to- I mean ... I don't know why I came."
Eyebrows rising in a gentle look of surprise, Jennie cocked her head to the side as she looked at her with open curiosity. "No?"
And then Rosie burst into tears, her breath hitching in her throat as she tried to swallow them, a strangled whine falling from trembling lips as she wiped at her eyes, smearing gold eyeshadow and dark eyeliner as she tried to hide her face. Hunching forward in her seat, her shoulders shook as she sniffled, feeling her cheeks warm as the silence and tension hung heavily, Jennie watching her while the cab driver ignored the obvious sounds of her crying.
"I'm sorry. I'm fine," Rosie blubbered, as unconvincing as she could possibly be with tears tracing their way down her cheeks and her facade cracking. "I'm sorry."
"Are you okay?"
Letting out a strangled laugh, Rosie wiped at her eyes and nodded weakly, sniffing and clearing her throat as she looked out the window. "Yeah, I am. I just- I don't know, I feel bad."
That wasn't the truth of it all, although she did feel bad for not inviting Jennie, for showing up and spoiling her night after purposely snubbing her. But for the most part, she was upset at the predicament she was in, caught between a rock and a hard place with the urge to be with Jennie and the airtight contract that forced her into secrecy for the sake of her career. Rosie was tired of sneaking about just to be able to see Jennie, that she couldn't even invite her to a party with friends and guests without it being an issue.
"You should've come," she thickly continued, a hoarse quality to her voice as she stared out the window, "I shouldn't have cared so much about what- about what they'd think if we were seen together. They don't even know us."
Jennie's hand cupped the back of hers, enveloping it in her warmth as she tugged Rosie towards her across the empty middle seat, "it's okay."
They stared at each other in the cab, the air between them laden with tension and the ensuing silence, both of them staring at each other with longing. And Rosie knew then that it was inescapable that she'd always come back to Jennie, so what was the point in trying so hard to stay away? To be the cause of that divide? She would be hurt either way; she may as well give in to it completely. And with that came the release of so much pent up confusion and heaviness that she hadn't been able to shake over the last month of figuring things out, that she went limp in the back of the cab, weakness making her hand shake as she reached up to rub her brow.
Flooded with the dreadful feeling that she'd just made some awful decision which was about to ruin everything, Rosie was silent for the rest of the cab ride back to Jennie's, her mouth dry as she cast furtive glances at the woman beside her. If Jennie felt the anticipation building in the air, she made a good show of pretending she was unaffected by it, Rosie's eyes tracking her with hunger, out of the car, through the doors and all the way up to the apartment.
"Drink?" Jennie offered, flipping light switches and tossing her coat over a sofa as she moved through the airy space.
"Sure," Rosie murmured, shutting the door behind herself, feeling unsteady in a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol.
Something twisted her stomach, her breathing shallow and her hands shaking so much she had to curl them into fists as she moved warily through the apartment. Her skin felt cold, the intimacy of the two of them together in the open space after the packed confines of the party and the looming presence of the cab driver making her heart stumble, adrenaline coursing through her.
"I- uh, yeah, I'll just ..."
Meeting Jennie's eyes for a fleeting moment as she looked at Rosie expectantly, Rosie turned and walked through the open-plan apartment, through to the bathroom, leaving the door open as she braced herself against the counters and stared at herself in the mirror above the sink. She looked fine. The terrifying decision made in the back of that car, to give in with reckless abandon, didn't show, aside from the nervous way her eyes darted around.
In fact, Rosie looked better than she had in a while, that sallow pallor of her skin lightly golden, her cheeks fuller and a gentle flush to her cheeks from the wine. It was Jennie that had her so off-balance, the one thing that was wrong with her life now. Rosie could handle the rest of it, the scrutiny and the sleepless nights, the relentless hounding of strangers online and the fact that perhaps her career was well and truly done for, but Jennie ... she couldn't accept that. Not now. Not when she'd come to terms with everything else, found some semblance of inner peace.
Splashing cold water on her face and the back of her neck as she listened to glasses clink in the kitchen, Rosie dabbed at herself with a small hand towel and then perched on the edge of the tub situated in the middle of the room. Taking a few moments to calm herself, to rein herself in before she made a complete mess of it all, she looked up at the sound of footsteps nearing the doorway.
Jennie peered inside with a curious look of mild concern, two glasses on wine in hand as she stepped inside slowly, like approaching a skittish animal. "Are you okay?"
"Mm," Rosie murmured reaching out a hand for the glass of wine.
She didn't drink from it, rolling the stem between her fingers as she dwelled in the pleasant hum of the few drinks she'd had already, already too embarrassed and tense to get too sloppy. Jennie took a sip as she watched her, leaning back against the sink as she swallowed.
"You're my best friend, you know," Jennie hesitantly started, "you can tell me what's bothering you. Did something happen at the party? Did something upset you?"
"No," Rosie quietly laughed, the sound hitching and pitiful, "no, it's not- I just didn't want to be there anymore."
She could feel Jennie's questions from across the room, and, shoulders slumping with defeat, Rosie sighed wistfully as she looked up. To be called her best friend needled Rosie's heart, wanting Jennie in so many ways more than that, but it was better than nothing, so she relented, just a little, giving Jennie the truth she thought she wanted to hear.
"I know I've been ... distant the past few weeks. I've been taking some time to be with myself and heal and do some growing. I just- I needed to centre myself for a bit. I needed that clarity to put things into perspective. But ... I've missed you."
"You look well," Jennie commented, a softness to her face as she smiled slightly.
Running a hand through her hair, Rosie let out a breath of laughter, "yeah, I feel better."
"You know you didn't have to miss me though," Jennie hesitantly continued, "I would've helped. If you'd asked, I would've-"
With a pained smile, Rosie didn't quite meet her eyes as she replied, "yeah, I know, I just- well, you're the last person I need to be bothering with all of my problems. They're quite trivial, and I know you have a lot going on yourself so ... and it's not like it's your problem to deal with, is it?"
"That's not- that's not how relationships work."
"But we don't have one of those, do we?"
"I- a friendship is a relationship. You're supposed to be able to share things with your friends."
Closing her eyes, Rosie exhaled, "I know. It's a bit shit for me to ignore you and then dump all of my problems on you though."
Jennie crossed the room in a fluid motion, dropping to her knees before Rosie as she stared up at her with an aching look in her brown eyes. "I don't mind."
With a tight smile, Rosie tenderly stroked her cheek, leaning in close, "you should."
Cheeks flushed from drinking, eyes bright and somewhat wounded, Jennie drew back slightly from her touch, turning her head aside. "I care about you, you know."
"I know," Rosie whispered, "I care about you too. That's why I came here."
"Yeah?"
"Of course."
"Kiss me then," Jennie murmured, rising from her kneeling position, drawing up close to Rosie's face as she hovered above her.
Blinking in surprise, Rosie's face flushed and she lost her balance on the edge of the tub, falling backwards as her eyes went wide. Still clutching her glass of wine, she spilt it everywhere in the bath and on herself, the thin silk of her dress soaked through as it clung to her skin, and she let out a snort of laughter as Jennie fell forwards with her, catching herself on the back of the bath. Brunette hair falling into Rosie's face, they looked at each other, both of them laughing as the sound echoed off the tiles, and Jennie leaned in to kiss her cheek, where a rivulet of wine ran down her face.
Pulling back, they both fell silent as Rosie clutched her empty glass and her spine bit into the bath, her body uncomfortably bent as her legs dangled over the side of the tub, on either side of Jennie's waist. Reaching out to wipe her cheek, Jennie's lips parted as she looked up, pupils blown and a piercing look there, knowing and expectant.
"Rosie."
Everything seemed to stop at that moment, the breathless laughter trailing off as Rosie inhaled, the breath trapped in her throat as her heart hammered, Jennie's thumb warm as it pressed into the soft roundness of her cheek, her fingers curling beneath Rosie's chin to grasp it in her gentle hand.
The silence was like a ringing sound in Rosie's ears as she looked up at her, lifting her empty hand to brush Jennie's hair out of her face, cupping the back of her head and guiding herself up. She kissed her slowly, testing the waters, her stomach flipping nervously with the guilty feeling that she was using Jennie, although, if anyone, she was the one being strung along. Letting the glass roll from her hand, Jennie pushed herself up, while Rosie wrapped her arms around her waist, lifting her with surprising ease.
Feet planted firmly on the ground, Rosie swayed slightly, gripping Jennie's biceps as her chest rose and fell quickly and they stood chest to chest. Her body heat was searing to Rosie's cold hands, the wet dress clinging to her as the sour smell of wine perfumed the air.
"Let's get you out of that," Jennie murmured against her cheek.
Rosie's stomach lurched as she felt the rushed pounding of Jennie's heart through her chest, and she let out a shuddering laugh against the side of her neck, nose gliding along the underside of her jaw.
"You know, that's the reason that I came here."
"I figured as much."
"No, I mean- I thought of you when I picked this dress."
"I like it," Jennie whispered.
Smiling against her skin as she left a smear of red lipstick in her wake, Rosie curled her fingers in Jennie's hair. "Come to bed then."
Jennie finished her wine, leaving the glass on the bathroom cabinet, her fingers threading through Rosie's as she tugged her through the apartment, flipping light switches as they went, the darkness swallowing them as they moved like two ghosts linked together through the open space.
The air was chill in Jennie's room, wan moonlight and the glow of fluorescents outside lifting the veil of blackness enough to limn them both in silver, bleaching their silhouettes a shade of grey as they stood in the middle of the room. Rosie was like a statue as Jennie traced the curve of her cheek, their breaths mingling as they looked at the blurred features of each other's face.
"Don't move," Jennie warned her, her voice a low murmur.
Her hand followed the curve of Rosie's cheek, fingertips trailing a featherlight path along the sharp line of her jaw, stroking the thin skin of her neck where her pulse jumped eagerly. And Rosie didn't dare move, not even as Jennie's fingertips glided along her collarbone, following the dip and gentle curve at the base of her throat, palm resting flat against the cool, clammy skin of Rosie's chest as her breathing bottomed out and her chest rose and fell quickly beneath her touch.
She felt the brush of Jennie's lips against her skin; pressed to her palms and her cheeks, her neck and shoulders, chin, forehead, nose and mouth. It warmed her everywhere and Rosie clutched Jennie's dress in her hands, slowly reeling her in as she couldn't take it anymore. Nothing else mattered at that moment, as if time had come to a standstill and it was just the two of them. Rosie never wanted it to end, the saccharine sweetness of nostalgic memories humming beneath her skin as she thought about it all, half of her mind stuck in the past as regret coursed through her, cut through with the yearning ache of her mistakes.
And yet, Jennie always saw the best in her, always saw the person she really was, behind all the fame and the public persona shrouding her. Somehow, she always believed in Rosie, her faith unshakable, able to see right through the lies spread about her, without needing Rosie to tell her the truth. And Rosie had thrown it all away. She'd thrown it away for what? An industry that shunned her at the word of someone else, when all she really wanted was her.
Sadness consumed her even as her heart pounded with the exciting adrenaline of Jennie's touch, her eyes damp as she kissed her in a desperate manner, her fingernails gouging half-moon furrows in Jennie's back. All at once, she was struck with the realisation that this was what she'dbeen waiting for, the out, the other shoe to drop, the slap of reality to put things into perspective. It had been a horrid month, an awful summer of rumours and bad press, but at that moment, Rosie didn't care about anything else but Jennie.
Laying there in bed, their touches maddeningly slow and leisurely as alcohol hummed in their veins, making Rosie's emotions boil to the surface, the thin barrier that separated her thoughts from her mouth straining against the urge to let everything she'd held back spill forth. Instead, she lay there and imagine a future where they could go out for dinner together and no one blinked twice, where there weren't any cameras or headlines and her career didn't suffer.
It was such a small thing, so simple and within reach - or it had been at least - and so she cried, silent tears that Jennie didn't notice, and later on, in the early hours of the morning, she fell asleep with her back to Jennie's chest, her arm around her waist as they fit together perfectly, and Rosie slept soundly.
Waking up by her side as the sun filtered in through the tall warehouse windows, Rosie found her mind sluggish and pleasant, no hint of a hangover and the loose-limbed feeling of satisfaction as she lay against the linen sheets, feeling the warmth radiate from Jennie's sleeping form as she breathed slowly.
Rosie watched her for a while, marvelling at the sight, drinking it in while she could, completely aware of the nearing end of things. It was like she'd woken up, because, despite the fact that she knew she loved Jennie, she had been so determined to deny herself the truth that it almost hadn't even felt real. It was like she was analysing someone else's feelings, writing songs about someone else's heartbreak even as her chest ached and she longed for Jennie. But there would be no going back now, no wary backtracking as Rosie tried to keep their fragile arrangement on the tracks by not spilling the truth. It would be an accomplishment if Rosie made it through the day without blurting the truth out, feeling the urge grow in her chest, that tiny seed of hope blossoming with wretched craving.
Eventually, she got out of bed, shutting herself up in the bathroom and pulling on a bathrobe hanging on the back of the door. Splashing her face with water, taking in the smeared makeup and messy hair, Rosie's eyes stalled at the splotch on the side of her neck. Touching the golden mark, she pulled open the front of the robe to expose her collarbones and shoulder, tilting her head to the side as she connected the path of small yellow hickeys marring her skin, little reminders of Jennie's claim on her.
Making a pot of coffee and pouring herself a cup, she nursed it as she wandered through the apartment, drinking in the sight of all of Jennie's things, touching the cracked spines of books she'd read, breathing in the lingering smell of Jennie's skin on hers, the perfume clinging to the bathrobe, the abundance of plants in various stages of life and flowering. Rosie couldn't help but wonder what their home together would look like if she'd said yes and Jennie had moved in, what she would've brought and how they would've decorated it.
Finally, Rosie's hands fell on the acoustic guitar on the stand in the study area, a modest make that Jennie had owned for a few years now, chords taught to her by Rosie on many late nights as they'd drunk wine and talked for hours. It brought a smile to her face and Rosie dropped down onto the wheeled desk chair, spinning in it slightly as she absentmindedly plucked the strings and fiddled with the tuning keys until it sounded right.
Playing quietly on the opposite end of the apartment as pale sunlight streamed in, Rosie felt different. Everything felt different. She'd woken up earlier than anticipated, dawn not long since passed, with the feeling that something had shifted in the air. Perhaps it was the fact that over the past week the temperature had dropped several degrees outside, the crisp nature of autumn starting to caress the trees outside. Perhaps it was nothing more than that, as excitement at the thought of pumpkins and sweaters and pine and snow of the colder months stirred within her, breathing in the smell of the unlit cedar and cinnamon candle on the desk as she mulled things over.
But even Rosie knew it was more than, some bone-deep change that she felt in her heart. She woke carrying the weight of the decision she'd made the night before, the awareness that at some point, soon, she was going to have to end things. It wasn't right to lie to Jennie, to hurt herself in the process of lying, to string things out for both of them, and so Rosie decided to tell her. Soon.
Jennie found her there, a little after ten o'clock, humming a quiet tune as she scrawled lyrics on a borrowed notepad with a ballpoint pen, her empty coffee cup sitting nearby as her skin shone in the weak sunlight and her messy hair fell in her face. Bleary-eyed and smiling, Jennie sipped her own cup of coffee and cocked her head to the side.
"New song?"
"Mm, I think so."
"Will you sing it for me?"
Hesitating, Rosie shifted in the seat, stretching her arm as she let out a strained laugh. Eyebrows rising slightly, Jennie's cheeks dimpled as she smiled widely.
"What? Is it about me?"
"Of course it is," Rosie said with vague embarrassment, biting the end of the pen as she cradled the guitar in her lap, "you know they are, that you're the only one-"
She couldn't quite bring herself to meet Jennie's gaze, seeing the friendly curiosity, her cerulean eyes softened with the tender warmth Rosie knew she felt for her, even if she didn't let it get her hopes up anymore. Having made up her mind to cut that final string tying them together, it felt almost wrong to be there, lounging in her apartment like the belonged, like they did this every morning and would do it again tomorrow. It would almost certainly hurt Jennie to be rebuffed so abruptly, but Rosie couldn't play hot and cold anymore. Not if she was resolved to getting her life together properly.
"It's not bad," Rosie said around the pen, swivelling the chair so her back was to Jennie as she smoothed the pages of the notepad. "I suppose I was feeling a little nostalgic this morning. It's not finished, but I'll play you a little bit."
Sinking down onto a small chaise lounge, Jennie leaned her elbows on her knees and watched Rosie's restless fidgeting as she cleared her throat and ruffled her hair in an endearing manner. She didn't see the way Jennie smiled slightly at the familiar motion, the way her eyes watched her intently, a fierce desire there that she was so good at keeping under wraps. Rosie was babbling nervously as she plucked a few strings.
"I think it'll sound better on piano - I don't know yet, but you don't have one, so ... well, anyway, I don't have much, and of course, it's not like ... entirely accurate. I have to embellish and tell a story, of course, so-"
"I know the process," Jennie lightly murmured, cradling her cup as her face eased into a look of besotted amusement, staring at Rosie's back, willing her to turn around.
Rosie rolled her shoulders to loosen up the tension hiding there, turning in the chair so that she wasn't completely turned away from Jennie, before she started playing, fingers easily picking out the chords of the melody. It was a sweet sound that struck a painful chord in her chest, a pang of regret and longing, but somewhere in the middle of it all, strangely enough, a kernel of peace.
"I have this dream you're doing cool shit
Having adventures on your own
You meet some woman on the internet and take her home
We never painted by the numbers, baby
But we were making it count
You know the greatest loves of all time are over now
I guess you never know, never know
And it's another day waking up alone
But we were something, don't you think so? Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool And if my wishes came true
It would've been you
In my defence, I have none
For never leaving well enough alone
But it would've been fun
If you would've been the one"
She played a few more notes before trailing off and tossing a rueful smile in Jennie's direction as the notes lingered in the air before giving way to silence. Setting the guitar down on the stand, Rosie lounged on the desk chair, gripping the arms as she swivelled slightly, trying to sink down lower, as if she would go unnoticed if she did.
Jennie was silent for a few moments, a pensive look on her face as she drank her coffee, a v forming between her eyebrows. "Is that really what you wish for?"
"It's just a song," Rosie whispered, a wavering smile making a fleeting appearance across her face, "but ... you could've been. And, well, we were something, right?"
Chewing thoughtfully on her bottom lip, Jennie blew the air out of her cheeks and slowly shook her head, "we really were. I think you'll always be my great love."
Blinking back the prickling feeling that flared up behind her eyes, Rosie swallowed thickly as she ducked her head down, dipping her chin in a quick nod of acknowledgement. "I think so too."
They lapsed into silence again for a minute, before Rosie wearily pushed herself to her feet and smiled at Jennie as she massaged a sore spot on her back. "Anyway, I should be getting home. Lisa will kill me for ditching last night."
"Mm, better be getting home," Jennie quietly agreed, a distracted air about her as she rolled her empty cup between her palms, looking troubled.
"I'll, uh, I'll call you soon."
"Will you?"
Rosie let out a bark of laughter at the doubt colouring Jennie's words, but it was a half-hearted sound that made the smile slip from her face quickly as sadness took its place. "Yes. We can talk more then."
"Okay."
"Okay then."
Climbing to her feet, setting the cup down on the chaise lounge, Jennie appraised her for a moment and then stepped forward to wrap Rosie in a hug, holding her tightly, almost as if she could sense it was the last time, or that time was running out quickly. "I think it would've been fun too."
Giving her a thin smile, Rosie nodded, moving to take the pages with the lyrics written on them and folded them up, before she went to retrieve her discarded clothes. She left in a borrowed Jacket with her phone and folded notes in her pocket, hailing a cab as she breathed in the lingering smell of Jennie's perfume.
Lisa was waiting for her at the back gate, Rosie's purse in hand to pay for the cab, and they both lingered in the cold, foggy morning for a few minutes, just inside the gate as the wind bit at their cheeks. Rosie felt heavy-hearted but otherwise fine, while Lisa looked a little pale from a hangover, drinking in the fresh air to chase it away, and Rosie was happy to stand outside in her dishevelled state, hoping the cold would numb her enough to make the trembling in her hands stop. She wasn't sure it was because of the autumn weather.
"You okay?" Lisa eventually asked, voice gravelly and low.
Cocking her head to the side as she deliberated for a moment, Rosie hesitantly shook her head before she gave her friend a smile, her eyes too bright as she buried her hands in the jacket pocket and curled her fingers around the pages of the song.
"No. I think I really love her."