"You're moving to London? What? When? How long for?"
It feels like someone's simultaneously punched me in the stomach, ripped my lungs and heart out and then choked me, and I try to take in Rosé's reaction as Jaehyun questions her, just for confirmation, but I can't seem to focus on anything. My vision's blurred, my mind dizzy and I feel so out of it, almost like I'm not even here and I'm not sure whether I want to be sick or whether I'm going to pass out.
And I need some grounding. I need something to hold me down and thankfully, Jisoo must see it because her hand sneaks behind me and rests against the small of my back, adding a little pressure and it seems to clear some of the blurriness but not all of it.
"It's only for a year," Rosé whispers and I hear the way her voice trails off, her eyes locking on to my profile but I can't look at her. "Maybe a little longer, but I'll only find out when I'm there... but, um," she pauses and gulps and I know I'm definitely about to pass out when she says, "I'm leaving on the second," because it's too soon.
Though it seems I'm not the only one to realize it.
"Rosie," Jisoo gasps. "That's in four days."
Hearing it out loud only kills me a little more, and I feel my heart flutter nervously inside with every passing second of silence because I can feel Rosé's eyes on me and I know I should be reacting at some point but I can't. I don't know whether I need to feel hurt and upset that she's leaving, or rather leaving me behind; whether I should congratulate her as this opportunity is incredible and I know from her briefly talking about it that only the best students get picked; or whether I should be pissed that she didn't tell me she was applying for it because this is just so out of the blue.
Maybe if I'd known I'd feel a little better about it.
Maybe if I'd known, I would've known how to react.
Maybe if I'd known, I wouldn't feel like I've just been hit by a ten tonne truck.
"I know... but—guys, please say something," Rosé begs, and I know she said guys but it was directed toward me.
But I can't answer. I just squeeze my eyes shut, shaking my head a little before I stand. "I need to go to the bathroom," I blurt out and don't even bother waiting for anyone to respond or for anyone to ask if they can join me before I'm making a beeline for the bathroom, pushing open the door forcefully and stumbling inside.
I brace myself by one of the sinks, taking in deep, steady breaths, trying to regulate my breathing because it feels like I'm hyperventilating; and as a kid, my mom always taught me to breathe into a brown paper bag, but it's not exactly like I have one handy and so this will have to do.
Slowly but surely, I begin to calm down, my chest not moving as rapidly and my vision comes back... Along with my thoughts.
I really don't know what I'm going to do now; the plan was to tell Rosé that I was in love with her and see where it went from there, hopefully ask her to be my girlfriend and then get on with life happier than ever. But now I'm stuck. On one hand I want her to be happy. I want her to go to London and I want her to have that internship and follow her dreams, because I know for sure if it were the other way around, she'd support me. But on the other hand, I want to tell Rosé I'm in love with her and make her stay. I don't want her to leave because these past months have been the best of my life, and all because of her.
And I know I was never a sure thing with Rosé, I know we started out as friends with benefits and transpired into something more, and I know that if Rosé and I are meant to be together, the time will come and we will be together, but why can't that be now? Why can't we be happy for once? Why can't I get what I want? Why do I have to make a really fucking hard decision?
Because if I tell her I love her, if I ask her to stay, I know she will. I know she'll miss out on this opportunity of a lifetime and I'm not okay with being the person responsible for that.
But if I don't tell her I love her, if I don't ask her to stay, I'll regret it everyday of my life because I didn't make her mine and I might miss out on my own opportunity.
Fuck.
Why couldn't she have just told me? Why did she have to wait four days before leaving to tell me that she'd even considered it because I would've been more prepared. I would've had time to think about it, would've had time to mull it over and prepare myself for this but now I'm blindsided and I know she isn't asking me whether she can go or not—it's not my choice—but I know it depends on whether I say something to her. Because there's no doubt if I told her, and if she felt the same for me that I do to her, then she would stay.
God. Why couldn't she have just told me before?
But no... I can't be angry at her for trying to protect my feelings. I know she didn't tell me because she knew it would hurt me, knowing that she might be leaving the country. She knew that I would hate that she's leaving, so she didn't tell me to protect my feelings.
And I know that.
But I also know that because of that, I can't be mad for her wanting to follow her dreams.
I want her to stay, but she needs to go.
That's it.
I glance up at my reflection in the mirror, finding black streaks of mascara dripping down my cheeks, tears falling too, and I gasp because I didn't even know I was crying. I never cry. I haven't cried in so long, and I choke out a sob, grasping my sternum with one hand and muffling the noise with the other as I stare at myself. Because it's only when I'm taking in my mirrored image that it really hits me what I'm about to do.
I'm going to tell Rosé to go. Without me.
I drop my head, the tears dropping on to the off-white porcelain of the sink, and my hands grab at the sides as I feel myself caving in. I love her. I love her so much and I feel like I can't live without her, and I want her to stay... but I won't tell her that.
God.
How did it even come to this?
***
I don't know how long I've been in the bathroom when I finally stop crying.
I force myself to stop crying, to stop letting my emotions out because this isn't what I do. I’m Lalisa Manoban, and I'm numb to other people's feelings, and most people think consequentially that I'm numb to my own, but I'm not either of those. I know how people feel just by looking into their eyes, but they can't seem to see past my hardened exterior. Well, everyone except one person.
The breath I take in is deep and shaky and I push my thoughts aside, instead choosing on focusing on with cleaning myself up, grabbing some tissue and cleaning my cheeks, dabbing my eyes gently to make it seem like I have some mascara left on. Then I splash my cheeks and pull back to stare at myself, finding paleness, hurt, red eyes and a lost little girl staring back at me.
And I know I don't want to do what I'm going to, but I have to.
Because I want the best for Rosé.
So I inhale deeply again, feeling my heart crack inside my chest and smooth my palms down the front of my jeans before I turn and walk out the bathroom.
***
I feel like I'm living my life in slow motion as I walk back to the table, my head held high, face blank and hands clasped in front of me.
All eyes are on me, I don't need to look at each person to know that, but I just keep my vision fixated on Rosé, who's now perched on the edge of the booth, seeming as if she's ready to get up if needed. Her eyes flit to me when she notices everyone else staring, and the second I meet her eyes, I see her face twitch and wince, her eyes gloss over and body shrinking like she's terrified for what I'm about to say.
Jisoo's sitting beside her, and I suspect her hand's on Rosé's lower back much like Jisoo did with me, to give me comfort, but I steal myself and keep moving, never letting my gaze stray from Rosé until I'm standing directly in front of her. She rises to her feet, and I know everyone's looking at us, and how obvious it is that there's clearly more here than just best friends who are going to meet each other, but I don't care. I don't really give a crap about anything else anymore. Only Rosé.
I reach for her hands, and her eyes drop to mine slowly, nervously, watching the movement and letting my hands linger in the air for a long moment before she finally sets her hands in mine and allows me to pull her to her feet. I feel the jolt the second her palms slide against mine, the one that I know is going to turn bitter and transform into an ache I can't rid, but I want to revel in the time I have. I want to let myself feel because I know the second she leaves, I'll be numb.
"Lisa," she starts after a long moment of silence lingering between us, her voice breaking, her voice croaky, but she continues no more, just bites her quivering bottom lip as she switches her gaze between each of my eyes.
And I want to tell her. I want to just say it now, even though everyone's watching us, but I can't, so I just offer the best smile I can muster and drop her hands, squeezing my eyes shut as I slide my arms around her waist and pull her into a hug. She tenses, her body stilling, but then she molds against me like she always does, her arms winding around my neck and pulling me into her and I just breathe her in, my lips moving to her ear when I can; because this is the most ready I'm ever going to be.
My breath is warm and uneven against her ear, and I clench my jaw, trying to find it within me to make sure I don't suddenly say three words instead of the ones I intend on speaking, and finally when I can, I do.
"I'm happy for you," I whisper, unable to tell her that I wan her to go, and her arms tighten around me immediately, her face nuzzling against my neck and I hear her sob, but I can't take that.
So with all the strength I have left within my pathetic body, I push her away, hold her at arm's length and suck my lips in as I look over her, knowing that I've got to memorize her in front of me like this, because soon enough she's not going to be there. So I remember the way she looks at me, the way she feels beneath my grip, the way her hand twitches when she wants to grab me again, and how her eyes, despite being full of tears, are soft and adoring; in the way they only are when they look at me.
Fuck, I wish I hadn't noticed that.
Her lips part, moving around, but no words come out, and I take this as my cue to leave.
With a forced smile on my face, I give her a nod, knowing if I do anything else I won't let go of her and then I'm back to living in slow motion as I drop her hands, hearing them whoosh through the air and land by her side.
And I leave.
***
Later on, I'm lying in bed on my side, my pillow soaked with tears and my chest aching from all the wracked sobs my body's been making.
I gave up wiping away the tears when I couldn't stop myself from crying, even with sheer force, and so I just chose to lie in bed and think about Rosé, think about what I'm going to do when she leaves, and how I'm so madly and deeply in love with her that I want the best for her, even though that's away from me.
And I don't know how long I've been lying there when I hear my phone go off.
It's gone off several times since I left the bar, all calls, but I haven't noticed and so when I reach for it on the side table, sniffling and squinting to read the words on-screen because I've long taken my contacts out, I see the name Jennie Rubyjane before me and the beginnings of her text beneath it. And usually, I'd just push my phone away, I'd go back to lying down and begin sobbing and whimpering again, but the first few words include Rosé and so I'm powerless to resist reading it.
So I swipe my thumb across my screen, wipe at my eyes a little more and take in an unsteady breath as my eyes flicker over the text.
Rosé turned down Baekhyun for the date. Just in case you wanted to know.
The first thing that comes to mind is whether she rejected him for me, but then I think about her going to London and my heart breaks all over again. She only rejected him for that, not for me, and suddenly I feel stupid and I cry harder until I'm curled up completely, knees pulled to my chest and face half-buried into ny already wet pillow as my phone topples off the side of the bed and crashes on to the floor. Because even if I told her, even if I revealed my love for her, she probably wouldn't stay. Not if she only rejected Baekhyun because of London.
And that's when I'm faced with the truth.
She doesn't love me back.
***
Somewhere along the line, between the crying, the aching, the hurt, the anger... exhaustion takes over.
And I fall into a deep sleep.
***
When I walk into work the next day, I act as if last night never happened. I act as if I didn't wake up this morning at the crack of dawn, with only an hour of sleep under my belt, and spent the next three hours trying to rid the redness in my eyes. I act as if I didn't feel my heart-break over and over last night, as if I didn't feel sorry for myself and as if I didn't cry a river of tears and had to throw my bed sheets and pillow cases into the laundry basket this morning.
I just act like I'm fine.
I push open the door to the coffee shop and walk in, ignoring the set of hazel eyes that snap to me, but I breathe out a sigh of relief as I head into the back room, suddenly remembering that Rosé doesn't have a shift with me today; I just have Jisoo to deal with.
I grab my apron and tie it around my waist, adjusting my hair and tightening my pony before I head on out, picking up the few orders waiting for me beside the coffee and frappe machine and get on with making them. My hands usually go on automatic, doing my job whilst my mind wanders but today, I make sure both my mind and my hands are working at the coffee, and I receive several smiles when I put extra cream, extra shots, just because.
Apparently I do my job better when I put my mind to it.
Though soon enough, the morning rush is over and there's only two customers in the store, already sipping at their beverages and I know I can't get away from questions anymore. There's no distractions, nothing to clean, or to tidy, and I suspect Jisoo did it all before I got here to make sure I had to talk about it, but I’m not exactly in the mindset to be pissed because I knew it was coming sooner or later. Still, I choose to pick up a cloth and clean over the cappuccino machine, even though I'm not sure it's even been used yet.
"Lisa." Her voice is soft, too gentle, and my eyes close at it. I don't want her to feel sorry for me. "Lisa," she repeats and I don't turn around, but her cold fingers touch my forearm and I stop rubbing over the shiny metal of the coffee machine because it can't get much cleaner, my hand stilling in mid-air. "Say something."
This time I do acknowledge her words, and I let out a long sigh as I drop my hand, the rag releasing from my clutches and I twist my body to her, my head tilting to the side and my eyes feeling too sad, too heavy as they meet hers. And I see the gasp she forces herself not to make as she takes in my appearance, and I know I look like a mess, I know I look dead in the eye and I know I'm too pale; but it's not like she doesn't know I feel like crap so whatever.
"What do you want me to say?" I breathe out, my voice low and throat dry.
Jisoo pulls back her hand, choosing to rest them in the pouches of her apron and she offers me the smallest of shrugs. "Do you not have anything to say about Rosé?"
Her face is twisting with annoyance, and I try not to see it because I really don't need her getting pissed at me, but I can't. It's literally staring me straight in the eye and I feel heat curdle within my stomach at it as I get a little angry myself because I don't know what she wants me to say. That I'm okay that Rosé's going? (No.) That I'm heartbroken that she's leaving? (Yes.) That I'm not quite sure what I'm going to do when she's gone? (Yes.)
She already knows those answers, she can tell by my eyes, by the way I'm acting, so what the hell am I supposed to say?
"If she's happy to go... then she should," is the only thing I can think of. I turn back to the cappuccino machine and pick up the rag again, moving to clean it but her hand snaps out, stilling it before I can.
"So you're not going to tell her how you feel?"
I drop my head, chin to my chest, as I feel the regret of not telling her sink in. I hate myself for not doing it, but it's for the best. "No, Jisoo," I sigh, shaking my head and squeezing my eyes shut. "I'm not."
My friend steps forward, and I can feel her sharp hazel eyes on me, judging me. "She rejected Baekhyun for you," she tells me.
I laugh, but it's dry, mirthless, empty. "She rejected him because she's moving to London," I state, picking my head up and glancing at her. I don't want to talk about this. "Not for me."
It's just another punch to the heart, and there's a tiny part of me that wishes Jisoo would turn around and tell me that no, Rosé didn't reject Baekhyun because of London, but actually for me; but it seems I'm just got a case of the wishful thinking because Jisoo's face drops, and she opens her mouth to argue with me but nothing comes out. Because Rosé did reject Baekhyun, but not for me. She rejected him for London.
"You don't know that," Jisoo tries, attempting to keep her tone strong but I know she's not even convinced herself.
"I do, Jisoo," I counter and I see my friend's mouth drop open again, this time a noise coming from the back of her throat as she tries to fight me again, but I cut her off. "And you don't know it was for me, so it's irrelevant."
And it keeps her quiet for a long moment. She shuts her mouth, her lips sucked in and I breathe in deeply, feeling something heavy in the crevices of my lungs because it feels like I can't quite breathe properly, but I'm still living and so I don't care. So I get back to cleaning the machine, distracting myself with how I can see little splash marks on the metal and get to scrubbing them; but I knew it wasn't the end of the conversation, I could feel it in the air and so I don't find it surprising when Jisoo speaks.
Though what I do find surprising, is what she says.
"But you love her."
Because it's as if life's that simple. As if love can conquer all. Like it could fix everything; get me and Rosé together and keep her from going to London but somehow making sure she doesn't miss out on an opportunity and making sure I don't feel shit for holding it back. I laugh at the thought, at my friends words because I wish it was that easy. I wish I could just say those little words out loud, that I could just tell Rosé I love her and that would be that. She'd love me back, there'd be no outstanding problems and everything would work out. Just like a love song; I'd say it and I'm happy. Everything works.
But I know life isn't like that and I find myself smiling bitterly as I twist my neck, meeting hazel eyes.
"I do," I admit, because if there's one thing I'm completely sure of, it's that I'm in love with Rosé. That's the only thing I'm sure of anymore. "And it's exhausting having to pretend like I'm not in love with her, but if she's not here, then it doesn't matter," I lift a shoulder. "And telling her before she leaves is only going to make it harder, it'll only hurt more and if this trip's going to make her happy, if she wants to go," I stutter a little, taking in an uneven breath because my mouth said those words but my head said if she wants to leave me behind. "Then she should."
I throw in a little shrug at the end; an automatic reaction to see if I can convince Jisoo—if I can convince myself—that I don't really care, but we both know I do.
"She'd stay if you told her," Jisoo points out, and it's another blow to the heart because I'm still not sure of that. After everything, I'm still not sure and I won't admit that I'm scared she doesn't feel it back because it's so clear she does; but there's still that doubt in my mind that she can't love me. That she's too good for me.
My eyes close, pain slicing through me at my thoughts and I let out a long exhale as I say, "But I don't want her to stay for me." Jisoo's eyebrows furrow and I know she doesn't understand, but she wouldn't. There's only one person who understands me and that person's leaving to move to London in a few days. "I want her to be happy," I manage to get out, pushing a sob back down my throat. "I want her to get her dreams and she deserves it. She deserves a great opportunity."
Though it seems Jisoo still doesn't get it because her eyes narrow, they harden and she lets out the shortest scoff out through her nose, her head moving from side to side. "So you're just going to let her go? You're not going to tell her."
No. I'm never going to let her go, I can't, but I choose not to respond to that part of the question. It'll make me vulnerable if someone knows my weakness.
"She'll be back at some point, Chu," I try, and lean against the counter, cocking my hip out and folding my arms over my chest to hold myself together. "And if I feel the same way—" I know I will "—and if someone's dumb enough not to have snatched her up—" something tugs on my heart just that little bit more, causing that little bit more pain at the thought of seeing Rosé in someone else’s arms "—then I'll see what happens. But I'm not going to tell her before. That's not fair. I don't want to make her choose if it turns out there is a choice."
I only say it to get Jisoo off my back, because she's like a dog without her bone when it comes to shit like this. I just need to give her that bone, that tidbit of information for her to mull on for a while and she'll back off.
"You know there would be a choice," she fights, and I'm surprised because by now she's nodding and walking off, having her information. But the thought that she's still going worries me because I fear I'll realize how much Rosé leaving will affect me. "But you also know if there were a choice, it wouldn't really be one."
I know she's trying to tell me that Rosé would always chose me over everything, even a massive opportunity like an internship with a publishing company in London, but I'm not sure.
And that's why I just shrug at her and offer a sad smile, because I don't know what else to say apart from, "She's going... and that's it."
Despite her mouth opening, an argument present, Jisoo holds back her words, holds back what she wants to say because I must be showing how pointless it is for her to do this. I've made up my mind; I'm not going to tell Rosé. I'm scared, I'm hurt, I'm a little pissed off, but most of all, I just want Rosé to be happy – and that means her going to London.
So Jisoo doesn't argue anymore; just sighs, shakes her head in disappointment and turns away, heading back to the counter to serve a customer.