At this point in her career, Jennie's lost track of how many times she's been interviewed. Despite that, it's immediately clear that today's press junket is different from anything she's done in the past.
There's basically a mini TV studio set up in the corner of the hotel function room. She and Lisa are seated in director's chairs in front of a backdrop that has "The Last Note" printed across it in bold letters. Opposite them is the hub of the operation — a bevy of lights, cameras, and serious-looking crew workers.
Their PR teams have joined forces with studio flacks to split into two groups: one hovering just off-camera and the other, armed with clipboards, gatekeeping at the door.
Jennie closes her eyes and takes a deep breath as the sound guy threads the mic wire underneath the front of her blouse.
"Gee, I love getting felt up this early in the morning," she mutters, voice as flat as she can make it.
She knows it's rude, but she's overwhelmed and, whatever, they're in New York City. They invented 'rude.'
The sound guy says he's almost done and Jennie opens her eyes, planning to apologize, when she senses Lisa looking at her. She glances up and, sure enough, Lisa's watching with this wry expression, lips pressed together like she's trying not to laugh.
In the split second their eyes meet, Jennie's mind flashes back to a morning in Boston when Lisa woke them up before the alarm; when she spooned Jennie from behind and slipped her hand beneath her t-shirt, teasing her nipples until Jennie whined and pressed back against her, needing more.
Lisa holds her stare for a long beat before looking away. A trace of a smirk lingers on her lips.
Jennie takes another breath and tries to will the redness from her cheeks.
It's gonna be a long day.
*
It is a long day, but not in the way Jennie feared.
They're booked solid from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m., with just a short break penciled in for lunch. Lisa does the heavy lifting in the first few interviews, but after that Jennie finds her groove. Most of the journos ask variations of the same few questions and Jennie feels like she's learning her lines as she goes. After the first half-dozen reporters, she's able to rattle off responses without much thought.
It's plain to see that Lisa is a pro at this sort of thing. She delivers the same rote responses, too, interview after interview, but they never sound scripted or stale. Jennie tries to follow her lead, to leave room for spontaneity, to look for opportunities to have fun.
At some point, without even realizing, it becomes more fun than not.
She and Lisa play off each other. When they're asked a tired, boring question for the 30th time, they start making up answers.
"What was it like kissing another woman on camera?"
"Difficult," Jennie says somberly. "And I mean that literally. Our boobs kept getting in the way, so it was physically hard to get our mouths to touch."
Lisa's lips part in surprise just for a second before she lifts her chin and nods. "It's true," she says. "That was, like, a whole thing. We had to hire an intimacy coach."
Sometimes Jennie jumps in to answer for Lisa, just to try to get a rise out of her.
"Lisa, what was it like working with Jennie Kim?"
"Oh it was awful, she hated it," Jennie tells them. "I'm a monster. All the cute smiling and giggling that's happening over here—" she points her thumb in Lisa's direction "—yeah, that's all for show."
"Shut up!" Lisa says, swatting her arm. Then she recovers and throws Jennie a bone-chilling glare. "You know I can't comment on that." She turns to the interviewer. "You'll read all about it in the restraining order."
Eventually, as payback, Lisa starts answering for Jennie.
"Jennie, what music did you listen to in order to find inspiration to play Ella?"
"She loooves Rebecca Black," Lisa chimes in.
Jennie scoffs and slaps Lisa's thigh. "Seriously?!"
"Remember that song 'Friday?' Jennie's obsessed. She'd play it in her trailer on a loop. It was concerning."
"Oh my god, you bitch."
By the time the final interviewer takes her seat, Jennie's cheeks ache from smiling.
She can't remember when she last had this much fun.
*
In addition to being fun, it's also... kind of flirty.
They keep touching each other. It's not intentional, at first. It's simply second nature for Jennie to grab Lisa's wrist when she's making a point, for Lisa to close her fingers around Jennie's as she laughs.
But, at some point, Jennie starts looking for opportunities to make contact. And maybe Lisa does, too, because the subtle touches seem to happen more frequently throughout the day. The interviewers change so often, it's not like anyone would notice. (Not anyone who would report on it, anyway.)
Plus, they play it off like it's nothing.
Like they aren't even noticing they're doing it.
Soon Jennie gets that feeling again — like it's all leading somewhere. And she knows she should put an end to it — that there's nowhere for it to lead anymore — but her heart races each time she feels Lisa's hand on her skin, and she can't bring herself to stop.
*
Jennie and Lisa are switching seats with each other for the third time — a suggestion from Lisa that has definitely saved Jennie from a debilitatingly stiff neck — when Shin Ryujin is brought over.
She's with E! or possibly EW — Jennie's too tired to remember. Or maybe she was just too distracted by how tall she is, how her dress hugs her curves, and how Lisa was definitely noticing.
Of course, Lisa is now seated closest to the interviewer's chair, which, Jennie soon learns, is within touching distance. Because Ryujin keeps touching Lisa's arm and laughing at her jokes (even when they aren't that funny) and flipping her hair and angling herself toward Lisa and, like — there's just way too much touching, okay?
It doesn't help that Lisa actually seems charmed by this blatant attempt at flirting. She lights up any time Ryujin compliments her and practically blushes when Ryujin says some cheesy line about being distracted by how "insanely brown" Lisa's eyes are. (Gag.)
Jennie feels herself withdrawing from the whole thing. Her jaw clenches and she has to fight the urge to cross her arms over her chest. She might have done it, too, if Nayeon hadn't caught her eye and fixed her with a warning look.
So she tries to check back in — tries to smile at the right times and adequately answer any questions thrown her way. She thinks she might just get through the interview alive when Ryujin makes some disparaging comment about herself (clearly fishing) and Lisa rushes to reassure her.
"Please, you're crazy. I mean, have you seen you? You're totally hot. Your body is, like, bangin'."
Jennie's surprised she doesn't give herself an aneurysm from the effort it takes to stop her eyes from rolling back into her skull.
The feeling that follows is so overwhelming she has to dig her nails into her palms to keep it under wraps. She just can't believe that this chick is shamelessly flirting with Lisa right in front of her. Or that Lisa is actually flirting back.
It's bullshit. And it especially sucks because she and Lisa were just having so much fun together, and now she's all tense and annoyed with heat rising up the back of her neck.
She fully tunes out for a minute or so, until one question yanks her back to the here and now.
"The two of you seem to have formed a unique bond," Ryujin is saying. "I think it's safe to say that pretty much everyone watching this interview has seen the photos of you coming out of that club in Boston where you looked... quite close. Then there were the paparazzi photos of you on set — which were adorable, by the way. But sometimes the way you looked at each other... it was like you were sharing a secret."
Lisa tips her head back and laughs. "I don't know if you've ever been to Boston, Ryujin, but that city parties hard." She smiles at Jennie, who takes the hint and follows suit. "We were just having fun," Lisa says. Her tone is still light and friendly, but there's a note of finality there too.
Unfortunately, it does nothing to deter Ryujin.
"I'm sure, I'm sure," she says. "But still, I have to ask: Were the rumors true?"
Jennie and her team had prepped for this one, even though Nayeon had assured her that it was highly unlikely to come up. That no outlet would want to risk burning bridges with her and Lisa and, by extension, the studio.
So much for that theory.
Lisa must have been ready for this question too. In fact, as Lisa calmly answers, Jennie wonders if their teams had conspired on the messaging because Lisa's response is nearly identical to what Jennie had memorized. Almost word for word.
"First off, I'm not in the habit of addressing tabloid rumors, and I'm sure Jennie isn't, either. Otherwise, we'd spend so much time denying alien pregnancies and made-up celebrity feuds that there wouldn't be any time left to actually do our jobs."
"Of course," Ryujin says. "I completely understand. But you have to admit this is different from alien babies. Your chemistry is undeniable. And I mean, the photos are—"
"Completely out of context," Jennie says, cutting her off. "We had just taken the cast and crew out for some much-needed fun after a crazy week. Lisa and I were just trying to go home when the paparazzi, like, ambushed us out of nowhere."
Ryujin taps her pen against her bottom lip. "Home?"
Only when Lisa laughs and touches the side of Jennie's wrist does she realize the slip. Lisa rushes to cover for her.
"Honestly, it's flattering that people think we're together. I mean, I could do far worse than Jennie Kim." She smiles at her and it feels so genuine Jennie's stomach drops. "But it's just another example of people confusing fiction and reality. The good news is, if anyone wants to watch our characters get together they can go see the movie in a couple of weeks!"
*
Jennie's standing with Nayeon, drinking some water stretching her legs as the team wraps up, when she sees Ryujin approach Lisa on the other side of the room.
She's too far away to hear what she's saying, but after the stunt she just pulled Jennie can't believe the gall of it. The unbelievable occurrences keep coming, because soon Lisa's smiling, then she's laughing, and then Ryujin's cupping Lisa's elbow as she laughs too.
Jennie gets that heated feeling again, creeping up her spine. She blindly hands Nayeon her water and stalks across the room before she can think better of it.
When Jennie comes to a stop next to Lisa both she and Ryujin look at her in surprise. She must have walked over here quickly — she does feel a little short of breath.
"Hey, Lis, can I talk to you for a sec?"
Lisa furrows her brow. "Um..." She glances at Ryujin. "We were just—"
Jennie decides she doesn't want to hear the end of that sentence. She grabs Lisa's hand and pulls her backward. "Just a second, I promise."
Jennie turns and walks off, tugging Lisa behind her. Her heart is beating alarmingly fast and she doesn't really have a plan, here, so she just leads Lisa to the refreshment table in the corner.
She drops Lisa's hand and sees, over her shoulder, that Ryujin is being escorted out the door.
"Oh good, she's leaving."
Lisa tilts her head, eyeing Jennie coldly. "Um. What was that?"
"That was me, like, saving you." Jennie frowns. "I guess I could've been more tactful or whatever, but I couldn't just leave you alone with her after that."
Lisa takes a long breath, like she's going to need a lot of oxygen for what she's about to say. But before she can get a word out a camera guy appears beside them and starts making a cup of coffee.
Lisa signals to her team that they'll just be a minute. Then she takes Jennie's wrist and practically drags her down the hall and into the nearest bathroom.
There are three stalls and the doors are all ajar, but Lisa bends to look beneath them, like she wants to be certain they're alone.
That heat Jennie had felt on her neck earlier has traveled inward and is now burning hotly under her ribs.
"Uhh what the fuck are we doing in here?"
Lisa rounds on her, eyes blazing, and a sick part of Jennie actually likes it. After watching Lisa flirt with someone else for 20 minutes it feels good to rouse such a strong reaction from her, even if it's anger.
"What the fuck were you doing out there?"
She's mad enough to swear, and Jennie can't resist fanning the flames. She plays dumb and lifts her hands, palms facing up toward the ceiling. "I was sav—"
Lisa moves closer. "Don't say you were saving me."
Jennie sighs. "I don't know what you want me to say, then." She lets her arms fall to her sides. "That girl was too fucking aggressive. I didn't want you to have to, like, fend for yourself with her."
"We knew that question might come up," Lisa says, eyes narrowing. "And we handled it. It wasn't personal — she was actually apologizing for asking it. She said her boss insisted."
"Yeah, okay." Jennie huffs and crosses her arms. She can't believe Lisa is defending her. "Did her boss insist that she throw herself at you too?"
It's not until Lisa's mouth falls open that Jennie registers what she just said. Well, it's out there now. She squares her shoulders, deciding the only way out is through.
"Are you serious right now?" Lisa inches closer. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly and Jennie gulps. "That's what's going on here? You were jealous?"
Jennie chokes out a shaky laugh and glances away. "I— I was— I wasn't—"
Lisa's still advancing on her and Jennie retreats until she feels the doorknob pressing into her spine. "Jesus, Jennie. As if you have any right, especially after—"
She stops short and Jennie can almost hear her clenching her teeth. When Lisa takes a steadying breath, she steels herself for whatever is about to come.
"You wanted to go back to normal, Jennie," Lisa whispers. She looks her dead in the eye and Jennie realizes she's on the verge of tears. "I guess this is what normal feels like."
Lisa's voice breaks at the end of her sentence, and the anger Jennie had been holding onto vanishes in an instant.
"Lisa, I..." She reaches for her hand, but is batted away. "Lis, listen—"
She won't even meet her eyes. "Can you move, please? You're in front of the door."
Jennie's bottom lip starts trembling as she steps aside. "Lisa, hang on, just—"
Lisa doesn't look up as she slips past Jennie and walks out into the hall.
*
After Jennie collects herself and heads back to the function room to find Nayeon and the rest of her team, Lisa's already gone.
She only gets a short break and a quick bite to eat before they have to hit the road. She feels off her game while filming back-to-back segments with Fallon and Seth Meyers. It doesn't help that they both want to talk about Lisa — how it was to work together, if she's really as nice as she seems.
She smiles and answers the questions, saying all the right things, but it feels like someone else is doing the talking for her; like she's witnessing it all from afar, watching a stranger chat with each late-night host.
Jennie wonders how they'd react if she told them Lisa just made her cry in a hotel bathroom.
Maybe they'd be sympathetic if she left out the part about it being all her fault.
*
Jennie [8:58 p.m.]: i'm sorry
*
When Jennie's finally back in her hotel room, alone for the first time since she got out of bed, she almost bursts into tears.
She's so drained, emotionally and physically, that crying seems like the only thing to do.
She lets herself break down in the shower. When she stands under the steaming-hot spray her tears are indistinguishable from drops of water, and that makes her feel better somehow.
Today has given her whiplash. She doesn't know how to begin to process it; how to begin to fix it.
She knows the solitary text to Lisa won't cut it, not by a long shot, but at the moment it was the best she could do.
She's just so tired.
After getting out of the shower she puts on pajamas, brushes her hair, and crawls into bed.
Tomorrow.
She'll figure it out tomorrow.
Jennie's about to turn off the bedside lamp when there's a soft knock on the door.
Her heart races as she freezes, suddenly on high alert. It's sad, but an unexpected visitor makes her mind jump to 'stalker,' immediately. There's been a few close calls — one guy even got into her beach house in the off-season a couple of years ago — so it's not outside the realm of possibilities.
She's debating whether she should call Nayeon or hotel security when her phone buzzes in her hand.
Lisa [11:05 p.m.]: it's just me
Lisa's standing in the hallway in a little pajama shorts set and fuzzy pink slippers that Jennie hasn't seen before.
Jennie doesn't spot the bottle of wine until she holds it up.
"They put this in my room — it's that Sancerre we like." She bites her bottom lip, eyebrows lifting. "I don't like fighting with you," she says softly. She shrugs one shoulder, like it's an admission. "Can I come in?"
*
Ending the night with Lisa in her room only adds to Jennie's sense of whiplash. It's disorienting, but she's here and they're talking and it gives Jennie hope.
There's a seating area in the suite but those have always grossed Jennie out — there's no telling when the upholstery has last been cleaned — so they settle on either side of her bed. They sit with their backs against the headboard and legs stretched out in front of them as they sip from glasses of wine.
They've just been making painful small talk, so far; reminiscing about the first time they tried this vintage at a sushi place in Harvard Square, complaining about how much their feet hurt after a day spent in heels. And Jennie knows Lisa didn't come in here just to chat, but she can't work out how to bridge the gap to a more meaningful conversation.
She also doesn't know what she'll say once they eventually get there.
A silence settles over them and Jennie holds her breath. She studies the wine glass in her hand.
"Jennie..."
She looks over at Lisa, on the other side of the California king, and in some ways, it's like there's never been so much space between them. She tries to breathe evenly as she waits for Lisa to choose her words.
"I'm sorry about earlier," Lisa says after a moment. "For what I said. That I yelled. I just..."
She drops Jennie's gaze, throat working as she swallows. It's almost physically painful, seeing Lisa get upset again, and even though she's too far to touch, Jennie instinctually reaches toward her.
"Lisa. Hey." She rests her hand on the duvet, halfway between them. "It's okay. I'm the one who should apologize. I acted like a total psycho dick earlier."
Lisa snickers and glances over at her. Her eyes are glossy, but she's smiling.
"I've never seen you like that."
"I know. I—"
She flounders for a moment, searching for a way to explain without revealing. Lisa was right before — she was jealous. And she had no right to be. But she doesn't know how to admit that to Lisa.
She decides to listen to her therapist for once and cut herself some slack — just admitting it to herself is big for her.
"I just really did not like that chick," she says.
Lisa bursts out laughing. She tips her face up toward the ceiling, like she's praying for strength.
"Yeah, no shit."
That makes Jennie laugh too. She bends her knees and shifts onto her side, propping her elbow on a pillow. In this new position, she's facing Lisa and can inch her arm out even further.
"That's, like, three curse words today, Manoban," she says, arching an eyebrow. "Are you feeling okay?"
Lisa laughs louder. She mirrors Jennie's position and shakes her head.
"No, I guess not." Her eyes fall to Jennie's outstretched hand and, after a second's hesitation, she links their fingers together. She looks up at Jennie through her lashes. "Maybe a little better now."
Lisa doesn't bring up the other thing she'd said in the bathroom.
The part about "back to normal."
The part where she acknowledged that ending things, after Boston, was Jennie's doing.
That it's what Jennie wanted.
Jennie doesn't know what to make of that omission; isn't sure if she's relieved or disappointed.
She adds it to the long list of things she isn't sure of, of things she doesn't know.
(Is this really what she wanted?)
They finish the Sancerre, open a new bottle from Jennie's welcome basket, and raid the minibar.
It's probably a bad idea — it's getting late and they both have an early start tomorrow — but this is the lightest Jennie's felt in literal months, so she keeps quiet.
The TV is on in the background (some reality show that Lisa chose and Jennie graciously allowed, even though she thinks it might be on that Ryujin's network...) but they're not paying attention to what's on the screen.
There's too much to catch up on — so much to tell each other from the past several months; so much that's been left out of their tempered exchange of texts.
So much fun to make up for.
It almost feels like it used to; like no time has passed since the last time they lounged together and talked like this. Over the past hour, they've drifted closer and now they're lying down on their sides in the middle of the bed.
Jennie's tipsy and, like, stupidly happy.
It's enough just being close to her.
"No, she did not!" She gapes in disbelief at the anecdote Lisa just told her.
"Swear to god. Ellen told me I looked — and I quote — 'very hetero'."
Jennie presses her face to the pillow as she laughs. "Did you correct her?"
"Nah." Lisa shrugs. "Maybe if it was during the interview, but it was after, backstage. Didn't seem worth it."
"The things you could've told her..." Jennie giggles. It hits her that she's on the drunk side of tipsy.
Lisa smirks. "The thing I could've shown her."
Jennie gasps and grabs her wrist. "You still have that?!"
"Relax. I took it off my phone."
"And moved it to...?"
"A thumb drive. With a password. That's in a lockbox."
"Oh my god, Lisa..." Jennie groans, even as she flushes at the memory.
"You want me to get rid of it?"
She twists her lips to the side. "Um... I mean..."
"Yeah. Didn't think so."
Jennie's jaw drops in faux indignation and Lisa just laughs. She arches an eyebrow and throws Jennie a suggestive look, like she's caught her out, before her eyes drop to Jennie's lips.
Heat passes between them, just like it used to, and when Jennie tugs on Lisa's wrist, pulling her closer, she goes willingly.
Lisa pauses mere inches from Jennie's face, like she's giving her an out, but there's nothing in the world that could stop Jennie from kissing her. She presses forward, keeping her eyes open until the last second — until she feels Lisa's lips beneath her own.
Lisa makes a little sound from somewhere deep in her throat, and Jennie chases after it with her tongue. There's too much pent-up longing to go slow, too many nights spent alone and left wanting to hold anything back.
Jennie rocks her hips forward when Lisa squeezes her waist. She whimpers into her mouth because that's how desperate she feels; because she knows Lisa likes it.
When Lisa eases Jennie onto her back and slips a leg between her thighs, arching up into her, Jennie's nearly out of her mind with lust. She pushes her hands beneath Lisa's shirt and runs her fingers from her lower back up to her shoulders, meeting nothing but skin. When she drags her hands back down she glides her thumbs along the sides of Lisa's breasts.
Lisa moans into Jennie's mouth before breaking away. She stills, panting ragged breaths against Jennie's lips.
"God, Lisa."
Jennie smooths her hands up and down her sides, bunching her shirt up higher each time. The only clear thought in her head is that she needs Lisa's lips on her again. She wants Lisa everywhere; wants to be consumed by her.
"I need you," she breathes. She cranes her neck and kisses the side of her jaw. "Lisa. Baby."
Lisa exhales sharply and Jennie waits, ready for her mouth. Instead, she feels the mattress shift.
Her mind feels sluggish as she opens her eyes to find Lisa sitting back on her knees.
"I can't..." she whispers, as if she's talking to herself.
Jennie sits up and rests her hands on the tops of Lisa's thighs. "Hey." Lisa doesn't look at her. "Are you okay?"
She shakes her head and moves off of her. Jennie reaches for her again but thinks better of it. Instead, she grips the sides of her own legs, wishing she didn't know what question to ask next.
"You... You can't what?"
Lisa meets her gaze once more, and the pain Jennie sees written across her features makes tears spring to her eyes.
"I can't do this again," she says. "This... Us..." She gestures between them. "This isn't casual for me, Jennie. I— I can't just be with you and then walk away like it's nothing."
"Lis, I—" She tries to swallow, but it's hard with the lump in her throat. "It's not nothing." Her voice is cracking, but she doesn't care. "Lisa, it's not."
Lisa takes a slow breath as a tear slides down her cheek. "What is it, then?"
Jennie's lips move as she tries to find the right answer, to construct the magic combination of words that will make Lisa stop crying. But it's like her mind is tying itself in knots.
She exhales in frustration, coming up short.
Lisa looks at her sadly, like she wasn't expecting any different. And that makes it worse.
She gets off the bed and walks a few paces. She runs her hands through her hair before stopping and turning back.
"Jennie..." Her voice is quiet, but there's an edge to it Jennie's never heard before. "What are you so afraid of?"
Jennie's laugh is rough and bitter. "I don't know." She wipes her fingers beneath her eyes, hating how pathetic she sounds. "Everything? All of it."
Lisa lets out a harsh breath, eyebrows knitting together. She takes a small step toward the bed and Jennie finds she's watching her every movement. She admitted that she's afraid — that there's something she's afraid of — and it makes her feel so exposed.
"Jennie..." Lisa says again. The edge is gone from her voice. She takes another step toward her, going slow like Jennie's a wounded animal and she's trying not to startle her. "I know you've been hurt in the past. Your shitty exes and all that stuff with your parents. And I know it's hard. Trust me, I know."
She blinks rapidly, bottom lip trembling, and Jennie's never felt more out of her depths but she can't just sit there and watch. She climbs off the bed and crosses the short distance between them.
When she moves to wrap Lisa in her arms, Lisa takes her hands and gently holds her back. She bites her bottom lip, and Jennie knows there's more she has to say.
"Listen..." she starts, and Jennie's heart is already racing. "In case it wasn't already, like, abundantly clear, I— I really like you." She brushes her thumbs across Jennie's knuckles. "And I think we're great together. And... And I think we could really have something here. If you let us try."
When Jennie was in the first grade she did a penny-drop off the monkey bars because it wasn't allowed. She landed on her hands and knees on the playground gravel, stunned and unable to take a breath. Later, in time out, the teacher said she'd had the wind knocked out of her.
That's exactly how she feels right now, standing in front of her favorite person, who's asking her to try.
(Standing in front of her favorite person, and knowing she'll disappoint her.)
"I..." Jennie squeezes Lisa's fingers as if they'll save her; as if they'll stop the words from coming out. She shakes her head, completely helpless. "I don't know how."
Lisa drops Jennie's hands. She steps back, defeated and resigned.
"Then I can't." She's crying again. "I'm sorry."
Jennie can only watch in wretched silence as Lisa collects her things and walks out the door.
*
Jennie loves New York, but she'd give anything to be home right now.
The rest of the trip absolutely drags. It's particularly exhausting to have to pretend to be up on talk show after talk show when, in reality, she's never felt lower.
She only sees Lisa once more — at Julliard, of all places. They tour the school for a Today Show segment and do a brief interview with Hoda in one of the rehearsal rooms. They're civil and professional and, to the unpracticed eye, nothing seems off between them.
But to Jennie, the differences in their demeanors are night and day. During the interview, she holds herself still and straight. Lisa keeps her hands folded in her lap.
When it's over, after Hoda is rushed back to 30 Rock, they stand in silence and unclip their mics. The ache in Jennie's chest is threatening to split her in two when Nayeon jogs over and thrusts her phone in their faces.
"Your fans are glad to see you two back together. Look at all these mentions!" She scrolls down with her thumb and Jennie sees photo after photo of her and Lisa. Nayeon could not be more thrilled. "Hashtag Jenlisa lives!"
*
Somewhere over Illinois, Jennie caves and opens Instagram.
She literally can't feel worse than she already does, so why not?
Most of the posts she's tagged in are screenshots from the press junket. Every so often she comes across a video clip. She watches them without unmuting.
She scans the comments:
omggg could #jenlisa be any more flirty???
they're literally SO cute im gonna die
get urself someone who looks at u the way jennie looks at lisa
It turns out Jennie was wrong.
She can feel worse.
*
Jennie orders a couple glasses of wine for the second half of the flight home, but it does nothing to calm her down.
It just makes her think of Lisa.
It just lets her mind wander.
She lambasts herself and forgives herself and lambasts herself again.
She tries to remember why she's doing this.
She tries to see the point in protecting her heart if this hurts, too.
If this hurts just as much.
*
Jennie's town car is stuck in traffic on the 101 when she gets a text from her stylist.
Jisoo [5:07 p.m.]: i know you're swamped babe but check your email. sent you options for the premiere.
Jisoo [5:07 p.m.]: been coordinating with lisa manoban's people. we like #3. xx
.