all those words came undone and now I'm not the only one facing the ghosts that decide if the fire inside still burns out of breath, I am left hoping someday I'll breathe again
"Sorry." Lisa's voice is slightly breathless as she makes her way towards the woman standing under the ubiquitous green sign of one of the many Starbucks scattered along the street. She stops in front of her so abruptly that she almost gets hit by a surly teenager on a bicycle, who swears under his breath in rapid fire before riding off. "An interview ran late."
She selectively omits the fact that she had stood in front of her dressing room mirror minutes afterwards, paralyzed by indecision, before finally pulling herself together enough to meet her here.
Jennie's shoulders move in an almost imperceptible shrug as she stuffs her hands in her pockets, slouching further against the wall. "It's fine."
"Shall we then?" Lisa asks, gesturing towards the door. "Sure."
As they make their way into the cafe, Lisa has to force herself not to touch her face self-consciously. She hopes the thick layer of concealer under her eyes isn't betraying her. The last thing she wants is let on that she had tossed and turned fitfully the whole night, unable to deal with the Ghost of Childhood Past who'd materialized before her eyes the day before.
"Can I help you?" the girl at the counter asks Lisa, but her attention (and megawatt smile) is blatantly directed elsewhere- specifically, at the brown-haired, and still ridiculously gorgeous woman behind her. Inwardly, Lisa rolls her eyes. Some things never changed. Jennie was easily the most recognizable out of the five of them.
"Yes, I'd like a tall vanilla caramel latte please, no cream. Under the name Lisa."
Jennie crosses her arms, and when she speaks Lisa doesn't even need to turn around to know she's smirking.
"No strawberries and cream frappe with extra cream and syrup?"
Lisa shoots her a dirty look. "I'm twenty-five, not sixteen, Jennie," she returns. "Though I'm surprised you still remember that."
"Lisa, you had one every day. More than one, if you could get away with it."
"Oh, shut up. It's not like it was any worse than Rosé and her waffle houses."
Her brow lifts, but the girl at the counter clears her throat deliberately before Jennie can respond. The annoyed impatience is evident on her face, so Lisa hurriedly digs through her bag for her wallet, muttering a quick apology. For a moment Jennie looks like she's about to protest, but one look from Lisa silences her.
The hopeful gleam returns to the barista's eyes when it becomes obvious this isn't a date. With all the subtlety of a wrecking ball, she leans over the counter just a fraction more, displaying a generous amount of cleavage in Jennie's direction.
Lisa pretends not to notice. Everything about the situation is bringing back way more memories than she's willing to deal with at the moment. Drink paid for, she heads towards an unoccupied corner of the cafe, leaving Jennie to her own devices.
"I'll go find us a seat."
-and my burden to bear is a love I can't carry anymore.
(Sara Bareilles, 'Breathe Again')