Work Text:
Buried Giants
Jisoo woke up to the sound of muffled stomping and to the January crisp air creeping into her chamber through the gaps of the door: the former tickled her ears; the latter gnawed at her skin. She shifted under her thick blanket, a groan slipping out of her mouth, and reached over to something on her right, where she usually found Dalgom or Jennie—sometimes both. Unfortunately, Dalgom was currently away and Jennie, well, Jisoo thought she heard Jennie’s voice amidst the relentless stomps.
“Oh, yeah, Jennie,” she said, tailed with a cracked sigh.
The sigh alarmed her just how dry her throat was and how she dreaded the idea of going to the kitchen. With the article from Dispatch, the stomps, and the voices, she could imagine the state of the outside world.
Her eyes were caked when she forced them open. She saw her many dolls were not in their usual place: some fell over and the others sat askew on several corners of the room. Something blue and red under her small vanity table caught her attention and she realized that the joysticks of her game console were torn away from the screen. On the once bare floor, she found a scatter of objects: they were either broken or gone astray. Taking up the most space was a snow globe. Its glass was now a vomit of diamonds. Through the blinds, a ray of sunlight peeked and fell upon the splatter, like that of a spotlight, and thus was born a constellation of lights dancing on the ceiling of her room.
And Jisoo sat there, her body a statuette, feeling as if she were a patron of Alhambra mocked by a Greek tragedy. She guessed the old saying ‘as within so without’ could not have been more fitting than at this very moment.
What a way to start a new year, Jisoo thought as she swallowed a pill to ease her headache.
She had not even finished listing her resolutions yet the one thing she could see perching on top of the list was getting this year over with.
*****
Jisoo escaped from the wreckage that was her bedroom with an empty mug from the night before. She examined it, giving a particular attention to the koala hugging a lone tree branch, and was glad to find no damage on it—the koala. She remembered commenting to Jennie that she was supposed to give this mug to Jennie, not the other way around. Jennie had laughed at that, saying that the koala was Jendeuk—Jennie had added an air quote—and that the tree was Jisoo.
“I’m a tree. I’m okay,” Jisoo had said that day. She had expected Jennie to elaborate but the latter had only sent Jisoo a look and a smile then sashayed away, leaving Jisoo with the mug pressed to her chest.
From around the corner to the kitchen, Jisoo heard Jennie’s voice.
“It makes me look like a fucking fraud!” Jennie spit in English. “I sing about going solo but I got a boyfriend?” She jumped back to Korean.
Jisoo leaned on the wall and just realized that her grip on the glass had tightened to the point where her hand had turned white and sweaty. For a while there were only the thudding of Jennie’s footfalls and the trashing of her heart until she was jolted out of her trance by a hand around her wrist. Lisa tugged at her hand and, when she was about to protest, Lisa sent her a rare frown and gave Jisoo’s sleeve another insistent tug. When she and Lisa walked past the living room, she saw Chaeyoung giving Lisa a reassuring nod. She wondered what Lisa wanted to tell her. It was possible that both Chaeyoung and Lisa felt disappointed and betrayed upon knowing the fact that Jennie had violated an article in their contract. Jisoo just hoped she could calm them down.
“No! Jongin, I haven’t even told my members about—”
Lisa shut the door behind them and hid away Jennie’s voice. Jisoo sighed when she was about to comment that Lisa’s room looked tidy today. The bed was unmade but the blinds were open. She could see several make-up tools strayed across the vanity table and a number of Lisa’s toys tilted in weird angles but, other than that, it was great—especially with how the light flooded the room.
Lisa’s room was neritic; Jisoo’s was benthic.
Damn, she was miserable.
They both sat on Lisa’s bed after Lisa had given Jisoo her glass of water. Jisoo took a sip when Lisa stood up and began pacing. The girl was even fidgeting with her hands and it was a strange view to behold. It took a couple of questions and a threat—Jisoo said she would leave—to get Lisa to start talking.
Lisa began by repeating that she was sorry and mumbling something about how Chaeyoung was sorry too for encouraging her in the first place.
“I was sure that Jennie unnie had feelings for you,” Lisa said as she halted her pacing and stared into Jisoo’s eyes. “You don’t watch the series she recommend but Chaeyoung and I have. You know, Riverdale.”
Jennie had asked Jisoo to watch many series and movies. Even though Jisoo preferred reading books to binge watching, she did watch some of them to appease Jennie. She just didn’t know why Lisa brought it up.
“And Jennie unnie always brings up Cheryl and Toni, they are this lesbian couple on the show, and tells me about how they protect each other and Jennie unnie often compares their relationship to yours,” Lisa kept going, “your relationship with Jennie unnie, I mean. And with how she acts around you, how am I not supposed to think that she at least got a crush on you?” Lisa stopped there. Her mouth had made some motions sans noise before something articulate actually came out of it.
“I’m sorry, Unnie. I shouldn’t have told you anything that day.”
And with that, Lisa dropped her head and just stood there for a few moments. She patted Jisoo on the shoulder then dragged her way to the door.
“You and Chaeyoung don’t need to be sorry,” said Jisoo. Her eyes stayed on the slight ripple on the water. “I’m fine.”
Once she heard the clack of the door, Jisoo drank her water in one gulp as the ripples had begun morphing into waves. She interlocked her hands around the glass and rested them above her knees. She pressed hard and her hands finally quieted down. Her breaths, however, were making such a fuss.
Jisoo had said to Lisa that she was fine but a part of her couldn’t stop feeling like she had been deceived. She also couldn’t stop wondering what the hell was in this glass because it tasted like bile and it couldn’t for the love of God get rid of the lump in her throat.
*****
Universe didn’t seem to be favoring Jisoo. These past few days had felt like broken records: not the kind that didn’t play at all or on a loop but the kind that was a staggering mess.
Jennie was called to see Yang-sajangnim the first day the article dropped. Jisoo heard from their manager that their boss was livid about how the other party confirmed it without any ado. That night, Jennie explained her situation to Jisoo, Chaeyoung, and Lisa. They sat on the living room like they usually did only this time it wasn’t lively at all. The only two things alive were the lamp dimming yellow and the television playing static. The blue of the screen fell across Jennie’s face and flickered there. Jisoo thought there was never a time when she didn’t love Jennie in blue or purple but, this time, the way it casted shadows around Jennie’s eyes just made her blue and bruised. And, right there, Jisoo didn’t feel alive at all. She was a mere spectator with no power to stop the tragedy. Any effort to interrupt the stage would end up in her restraint. So she sat there absolutely motionless; the others did too. Jisoo thought they all did die in a way or another.
On the evening of January 2, Jisoo decided to leave the dorm. They always gave midnight surprise for each other’s birthday and, this year, Jisoo would spare them the awkwardness of doing so.
They should really be thanking me, she thought.
And so Jisoo didn’t see any of the Blackpink’s members on her birthday. She saw their greetings on Instagram and wondered whether it was all part of the play. When they saw each other again the next day in preparation of an award show, Jennie, Chaeyoung, and Lisa brought a cake, which they ate after the practice. Chaeyoung and Lisa hugged her and wished her happiness; they also whispered their apology, to which Jisoo gave her dismissal.
“I’m sorry your birthday sucks because of me,” Jennie said with her eyes trained on her phone. They were in the car, their manager driving, and the air had been thrumming with something Jisoo never correlated to her and Jennie before the statement shattered it. Jisoo hoped Chaeyoung was not preparing for her solo debut and Lisa didn’t choose to accompany Chaeyoung.
Jisoo glanced at Jennie’s phone and saw two figures in mask and cap leaning against each other and making a peace sign. The picture was once again a mockery and it reminded Jisoo of how it did suck. And she didn’t like lying to Jennie so she just hummed her accordance and rested her temple against the freezing glass. The pitter-patter of the rain and the hiss of the engine were a much better company than they were to each other.
During the award show the four of them had to pretend as if they were all dandy. They tried but apparently they were not half as good at acting as they were at singing since Blackpink’s publicist told Jisoo that many people on the internet noticed that there was something off.
Like they don’t have anything better to think about, Jisoo thought.
She managed not to roll her eyes at the publicist though. She assured the publicist that she would inform her members about it, which of course she didn’t plan on doing. Whatever floated YG’s boat, right?
Everything was chaotic and that was why Jisoo found herself walking towards an annex separated from the main building of a café by a tall railing wreathed in withering vines. Jisoo followed the cobblestoned path, its surface sprinkled by the remnant of last night’s snowfall, and shoved her hands into the pockets of her padding jacket. She saw Seulgi unnie crossed her arms to close her unbuttoned coat and Joohyun unnie blew air into her hands. Jisoo thought she heard Joohyun unnie cursed and complained about her lack of outwear.
This morning Jisoo had received a text from Seulgi unnie mentioning about having coffee together. Jisoo had accepted almost instantly. It had been a most-awaited excuse to go out of the dorm and not see Jennie. Although she had heard from Chaeyoung and Lisa that Jennie had been out on a date with Kai.
“Isn’t it dangerous to be out after the Dispatch incident?” Jisoo had asked. It had been a rhetorical question but Lisa had given an answer anyway.
“She went to his apartment.”
Jisoo hadn’t caught what Lisa had said after that but she had seen the way Chaeyoung had elbowed Lisa on the stomach. Honestly, it had not been unexpected but, still, Jisoo had not been able to come up with a proper, normal reaction to the news. And that had been the moment Seulgi unnie had sent her another text about how another friends of hers and Joohyun unnie’s were to join them. Jisoo had been afraid that it was to be another tense day.
When the waitress opened the door to the annex, it was almost quite if the sound of a rather high-pitched laugh didn’t ring from the far corner of the room. The room was bare of any customer apart from the two women sitting near the vast window overlooking the barren garden outside. Once the waitress left them, Joohyun unnie strode across the room towards the black-haired woman whose laugh had calmed to a smile. Her left hand played with a recognizable checkered scarf dangling from her neck while the other disappeared under the table. Her feet were crossed and, from where her slacks hiked up, Jisoo could see the Gucci loafers adorning her feet. And Jennie flashed in her mind.
Jisoo thought she really had to stop connecting everything to Jennie.
“Yongsun-ah, I’m not paying for this,” Joohyun-unnie said as she threw out both hands. “No one asked you to reserve a whole annex!”
Jisoo stood a little behind Joohyun unnie and she saw how Seulgi unnie silently slipped into the seat by the wall across a brunette, whom she knew to be Mamamoo’s Moonbyul. They had exchanged easy smiles before Moonbyul sunbaenim’s attention went back to Solar sunbaenim.
“Yongsun unnie has been composing again,” Moonbyul sunbaenim said. She then proceeded to fixing Solar sunbaenim’s turtleneck.
Joohyun unnie was quiet for a moment. Amusement tinged her words when she finally said something.
“Oh, that’s why you even threatened your group’s haters.”
“Preach!” Seulgi unnie said.
“That was a warning,” Solar sunbaenim responded. “Not a threat.”
“Our Yongsun really does have her lawyer on speed dial though,” Moonbyul sunbaenin said. She smiled and shook Solar sunbaenim’s hand.
Ah, so they have been holding hands, Jisoo thought.
It was not a shocker though. Rumors circulated in the industry.
“So, if any of you ever need any assistance, please, tell us,” added Moonbyul sunbaenim. And it earned her a slap from her girlfriend. “That includes you,” she paused there, “Kim Jisoo-ssi, right?”
“Yes,” Jisoo said as she bowed. “It’s nice meeting you, Moonbyul sunbaenim,” she paused and turned to the other sunbae. Jisoo waited until Solar sunbaenim finished rolling the sleeves of her girlfriend’s shirt. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Solar sunbaenim. I’m a big fan. And Chaeyoung too.”
“Rosé,” Jisoo corrected.
As an aspiring songwriter, Chaeyoung admired Solar sunbaenim’s integrity as an artist. Jisoo remembered how Chaeyoung flipped when she knew that Solar sunbaenim could compose songs of any genre—from ballad to hip-hop. “We love your voice. Especially when you belt out.”
What an understatement, Jisoo thought. She could recall how Jennie scolded her because she failed to hold back her smile while watching Solar sunbaenim doing a pole dance. She had told Jennie that Solar sunbaenim had looked hot and Jennie had then stormed out of the room. Jisoo had thought that night that, maybe, she should have said that the pole dance had been artistic instead of hot.
Because it was artistic.
“Please, call me Yongsun,” Solar sunbaenim said. She shot Jisoo a smile, placed a vacant chair beside hers, and got Jisoo seated there. “How about a birthday cake?”
Yongsun unnie—she insisted Jisoo call her that—ended up ordering a cake, into which the waitress stuck colorful candles, to be shared among the five of them. Moonbyul sunbaenim even did a beat-box as the other harmonized a happy birthday song. Once their conversation had headed towards mundane stuffs, which was not her birthday, Jisoo excused herself to the porch. The porch was this wooden platform stretched out from the annex towards the garden and stopped a meter away from the pond. A narrow ladder on the side of the porch led to an equally narrow path making a beeline towards a bench under a tree. The tree was now hunched down by the weight of the snow while the bench rotted away in the chilling air. Hung on the wooden structure that made up the ceiling of the porch were plastic pots; thin branches jutted out of them in an impolite manner. When the winds swayed the pots, those branches rustled then broke: some held on while others plummeted to the ground. Jisoo put her hands on the fence, now garlanded in plastic plants, and thought that it was such futile attempt to color this somber month.
“My sister always tells me how the British still go out and about no matter how bleak the skies are.” Jisoo saw Yongsun unnie approaching; she now had her coat on. The raps of her shoes against the hardwood echoed in the dead of the winter.
Jisoo was not stupid. She realized that Yongsun unnie and Moonbyul sunbaenim—Yongsun unnie especially—made extra effort in entertaining her. She had wondered who had spoken up about her situation.
“You’re still paying for the half of it though,” Yongsun unnie had told Joohyun unnie. They had been digging in their lunch. “You can slap my butt,” Yongsun unnie had added.
“For a whole day?” And Yongsun unnie had shrugged at it. “Deal!”
That had helped Jisoo devise an answer and had showed how much Joohyun unnie loved butt.
Jisoo eyed the scarf peeking from behind the lapels of Yongsun unnie’s coat. It raced down the length of Yongsun unnie’s body, finishing just a little behind her slacks.
“She gave you that scarf then?”
Yongsun unnie looked at said scarf.
“Yes, she bought me this when she went back after finishing her study.” She walked closer to Jisoo and leaned her lower back against the fence. The thorny leaves of the artificial plants poked the smooth, twill-woven material of her coat. Jisoo’s eye twitched at that.
“I think she’s particularly fond of this brand. She once gave me a duffle coat and it was very comfortable. I think she’s rubbing off on me,” Yongsun unnie said. Jisoo saw how Yongsun unnie’s eyes flittered to where their friends sat. Jisoo could feel their stares on her back. “Do you have a sister, Jisoo-yah?”
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Jisoo said. Her hands played with the loose of her pants; her eyes took in the coiling clouds across the sky. “I’m fine.”
“And I’m good at making small talks with people.”
Jisoo looked at Yongsun unnie when she felt a nudge on the tip of her shoe.
Yongsun unnie got this smile—one that accentuated the fluff of her cheeks. And Jisoo had this déjà vu—one she really didn’t want to see. She was suddenly young again and standing in front of her was Jennie, a much younger Jennie—one she often dreamed about at night.
Jennie was smiling as her nose caught a snowdrop.
“Our first snow together, Unnie!” Jennie said. A wisp of smoke followed her words. “To the first of many snows!” Jennie bumped her fist against Jisoo’s, took Jisoo’s hand, and blew warm air into it.
Jisoo watched as more snows nestled into Jennie’s hair. She saw the red of Jennie’s cheeks and heard the heaving of Jennie’s breaths; the latter whispered under the cry of the wind. And she swore she could feel the chapped of Jennie’s lips against her skin.
Jisoo thought how easily she went to Jennie.
Just like the first snow of that year.
She didn’t know she had drifted closer to Yongsun unnie. It must have been the perfume. Yongsun unnie did smell similar to Jennie, albeit the older Jennie—one that might or might not have caught the first snow of this winter.
From where she stood, Jisoo could only see the curls of Yongsun unnie’s hair.
“You must’ve hated your hair,” Jisoo blurted out as she took a step back.
She and Yongsun unnie had bowed to each other at an award show a few days ago. She remembered Yongsun unnie had gotten a short-cut hair.
“Sorry, Unnie,” she said with widened eyes. “You look great either way. Did Moonbyul sunbaenim not like it?”
Yongsun unnie’s hand flew to her now much longer hair.
“Long hair is more versatile,” she said with a laugh. “Not everything I do got something to do with Byulyi, you know.”
And that was the problem. Everything Jisoo did revolved around Jennie. Even the round glasses sitting on her nose had been picked and bought by Jennie.
“Now that she has someone else towards whom she gravitates, I just,” she paused and clenched her hand. The cotton of her pants creased under her crushing grip. “I don’t know what to do.”
Yongsun unnie had stayed mum during the course of Jisoo’s story.
When she looked at the woman next to her, Jisoo saw Yongsun unnie gazed at Moonbyul sunbaenim. Then Yongsun unnie smiled. Just like that. Jisoo wondered whether Jennie had ever looked at her and just burst into a smile.
“When I was in my ‘isanghae’ phase—”
Jisoo arched her brows.
“Fun fact,” Yongsun unnie smiled, “the shippers were the one to notice it. It was a phase,” she said as she made a gesture with her fingers, “when I used to say ‘it’s weird’ every time Byulyi touched me or was being cheesy to me.”
Jisoo nodded her head.
“I think it was before Décalcomanie,” Yongsun said. Her eyes roamed and her hand played with the rings on her fingers. “I even tried to date a guy.”
“Why?”
“Because it was easier.”
“Isn’t love supposed to be easy?”
Yongsun unnie straightened her body, put her hands into her pockets, took a deep breath, and exhaled.
“Before Byulyi, I never thought that I could hold my entire world in the cup of my hands,” Yongsun said. Her eyes now bore into Jisoo’s. “How can that ever be easy?”
Sure, Jisoo cared deeply for Jennie. But, Jennie becoming her world, it was quite a statement.
“Jennie is not—”
“You said it yourself.”
Yongsun unnie lowered her voice then, as if she were talking about a secret she and Jisoo shared, when she told Jisoo that Jennie had become the center of Jisoo’s universe.
A harsh wind later, Jisoo stumbled into the fence, and her hand took a hold of it; the prickly plant rebelled against the clasp of her hand. She had the urge to spew out her insides. Her heart rattled; her eyes burned. Her throat: a knot.
Jisoo envied Yongsun unnie because the brash of the wind did nothing to the latter. Except for her somewhat tousled hair, Yongsun unnie was rooted to where she was on. And when Jisoo stared at Yongsun unnie’s eyes, they were telling that their owner had known Jisoo forever.
*****
When the cold began to bite harder, the five girls called it a day. Both Yongsun and Byulyi unnie—yes, she refused to be called otherwise—insisted to take Jisoo home even though Jisoo said she had to pick up Dalgom first. Jisoo learned about Yongsun unnie’s dog, Jjing Jjing, and Byulyi unnie’s corgis. She found it cute that Byulyi unnie always used photos of her dogs, the one called Haengwoonie specifically, as a way of making up with Yongsun unnie.
“Sometimes she sends me random pictures of Haengwoonie and I would think,” Yongsun unnie paused and tilted her head, “are we on a fight?”
When she and Jennie fought, it usually started with Jisoo being mad at Jennie and Jennie being mad at Jisoo in return. In the end, Jisoo always made the first move. Yongsun and Byulyi unnie chuckled at her admission.
“You and me both, Jisoo-yah,” Byulyi unnie said as she glanced at Jisoo through the rearview mirror. “You and me both.”
Yongsun unnie threw a punch but Byulyi unnie caught her girlfriend’s hand and held it instead; her left hand stayed firm on the steering wheel.
“But that’s a reminder that they know we always want to go back to them,” Byulyi unnie said. “And we know that they’ll always take us back no matter what.” Her fingers now intertwined with Yongsun unnie’s.
Jisoo saw Yongsun unnie’s thumb stroke mindless patterns across the back of Byulyi unnie’s hand. She thought about how Jennie often hesitated to do the same and what it meant in regard of their feelings for each other. Sometimes Jennie seemed to be self-conscious when the two of them were on camera together. It was a matter Jisoo had wanted to ask Jennie yet never had the courage to. She guessed it didn’t matter anymore now. It appeared to her that they hadn’t even truly talked in weeks.
Now that Jisoo thought about it, she didn’t even remember Jennie asking what she wanted for her birthday. Jisoo also couldn’t recall Jennie hinting at what sort of gift she wanted in return. Jennie had always said something about their birthdays before.
“What did you give Byulyi unnie for her birthday?” Jisoo asked Yongsun unnie as they walked the dimmed corridor leading to Jisoo’s dorm.
Apparently Yongsun unnie and Dalgom had gotten along so well that she had not been ready to say her goodbye to Dalgom in the car. Now Yongsun unnie was talking to Dalgom in baby voices and smothering him with kisses.
“Byulyi has taken a liking to wine and she said to me in passing about buying her a wine refrigerator,” Yongsun unnie said. She had stopped her kissing. Her hand was now running through the smooth of Dalgom’s furs. “So I bought her one. It’s the size of a washing machine.”
Yongsun unnie always gave her all every time she performed on stage. Jisoo had known that. But it seemed Yongsun unnie really was a go big or go home kind of person. Jisoo wished she could have been more like that. Maybe then Jennie would not have slipped away.
“Hey,” Yongsun unnie said with a smile. “You know Jennie-ssi the most. You know,” she emphasized, “what would be good for her.”
Jisoo heard the echo of a conversation and found Jennie and Kai walking towards her—towards the dorm. Her heart pounded and her throat constricted. When she averted her eyes from the pair, she saw the lamp shone a narrow beam, like the lighting of a grand stage would, on the woman in front of her. Jisoo was looking at Solar: shoulders evened out; head tipped down; and eyes peered up behind drooping lids. Propped on her hand was not a Maltese but an elegant Siamese. Jisoo felt like she had been caught red-handed intruding into Solar’s dominion. And all Jisoo could do was submitting.
Solar stepped close until it was only the mass of Dalgom’s body separating her and Jisoo. At this point Jisoo couldn’t even differentiate between Solar’s scent and Dalgom’s shampoo; it was a muddled swirls of spices, milk, and honey.
“For what it’s worth,” Solar said into Jisoo’s ear, “he might be her easy way out.” Her breath blew against Jisoo’s ear like summer wind.
It gave Jisoo goosebumps.
When Jisoo turned her head, the only thing she could see was the unassuming mole above Solar’s right eye. Still, her heart leapt.
“Call me, Jisoo-yah,” Solar said. “Maybe I’ll teach you a thing or two about pole dancing.” Jisoo coughed at this even though nothing was going down the wrong pipe.
Solar had winked at her before greeting Jennie and Kai with a small bow and walking away. Kai was bowing back while Jennie was standing stock-still. The tense of Jennie’s body was evident, from the taut of her eyebrows to the shake of her clenched hands.
As Jisoo went into the dorm, Dalgom clutched in her arms, she heard Kai asking Jennie if Solar was the reason why Jisoo never called Junmyeon back.
*****
Dalgom sprung out of Jisoo’s grasps as soon as he saw the familiar view of the dorm, leaving Jisoo pondering alone whether she should listen to Jennie and Kai talking outside or not. In the end, she made her way inside since she believed that eavesdropping was a cowardly violation of one’s rights. Jisoo made a turn to the kitchen and found it empty. The kitchen islands were spotless. Their surface was sepia as it reflected the orange of the burnt out sun. Jisoo plucked a piece of paper from under a refrigerator magnet. On the paper was a scrawl of sentence informing the maknaes’ whereabouts. At least Chaeyoung and Lisa put a heart on it. Though the right side of the heart was undoubtedly plumper than the left one.
“What the hell did you do with her?”
The jar of water slipped from her grip and bumped against the table, leaving a visible dent on the polished marble. Jisoo would never look at that dent and not think about the unfamiliarity of Jennie’s tone at this moment. For Jisoo, Jennie’s voice had always been a resemblance of how the wavelets had brushed against her naked feet on a Jeju beach years ago. Now it was all sharp edges and probing ends. And Jisoo’s hand couldn’t help but jolt at hearing it. Jennie, on the other hand, didn’t even flinch at the crash between the jar and the table.
“Do you know what people will do,” Jennie spat out. She had moved to the other end of the table. “If they see whatever the fuck it is you’re doing with her?!” Her words now came out in English.
Similar to Chaeyoung, Jennie tended to do that when she was being emotional. Jisoo was not certain, however, if Jennie had any rights whatsoever to act the way she did.
Jisoo downed her water as she did her alcohol.
“Unlike your boyfriend,” Jisoo said through gritted teeth, “Yongsun unnie will never let that happen.”
Earlier Yongsun unnie had told her that it had been one of the many reasons why she always put her lawyer on stand by. She simply couldn’t risk even the slightest recklessness given her status as a celebrity and her relationship with Byulyi unnie.
“So, it’s Yongsun unnie now?”
When Jisoo didn’t answer, Jennie’s eyes blinked in rapid succession. They glistened under the fiery sunlight. And Jennie’s shoulders sacked in resignation.
“I don’t give a shit that she’s revered by our seniors and peers,” Jennie said. “I will destroy her if she ever puts any of us in danger.”
Contrary to what people believed, Jennie was a softhearted person. When she confronted her haters’ comments, for example, she never truly resented those people. She would just ask Jisoo for a hug, and she would cry for a long time. This was the first time Jisoo ever saw Jennie referring to someone with such distaste.
“Why didn’t you give Junmyeon-ssi’s number to me?”
At this, Jennie perceptibly flinched.
“First him and now Yongsun unnie,” Jisoo said, her jaws more pronounced than ever.
Jennie kept her glare directed to a stack of ripe apples. The grips she got on the table failed in preventing her hands from trembling. The quivers of Jennie’s hands were akin to the rustles of dead leaves, dangling from sodden branch before eventually surrendering to the pull of gravity.
“It’s none of your business with whom I associate myself.”
“It is my business,” Jennie said. She glared hard at Jisoo. “You’re not supposed to exchange texts with Suho or flirt with Solar.”
Jisoo saw how Jennie’s eyes were haloed red.
“And why is that?”
“Because you’re supposed to take care of me!”
The slap of Jennie’s hand against the table caused a single apple on top of the stack to shudder, roll away, and hit the ground with a muted thud. It could barely be heard but it sufficed to serve as an echo of Jennie’s anger and Jisoo’s disappointment.
“That’s the most fucking selfish thing someone has ever said to me.”
Jennie had regarded Jisoo for a moment before a sob was puked out of her mouth; a teardrop slithered down the round of her cheek. Jennie then ran out of the kitchen and, with a bang of a door, out of the dorm.
A running Dalgom kicked the apple, sending it tumbling on the floor. The red orb only stopped once it knocked against the stillness of Jisoo’s foot. Jisoo wondered if she and Jennie were doomed to be falling apple without a Newton to catch it. Or maybe they were cursed to be Jisoo’s tears: raining on the ground with no significance at all.
*****
Jisoo walked out of the dorm, her feet straining as to not slip on the wet pavement, when the sun set. Jennie had not yet been back and Jisoo had begun to get worried.
The street lamps were lit, and Jisoo followed their trail of lights until she reached a small path splitting rows upon rows of crippled trees. Short walls of bricks lined this path and yellow lights illuminated the way in a sporadic manner.
Some people walked past her, making their way out of the park, without any scrutiny. She was glad for the strong wind tonight as it forced people to hurry home. It rid her of any unwanted attention.
Jisoo saw a gap between two trees, their bodies hollowed out, and quickly jumped over the low wall. She let her eyes adjust to the lack of lights then started trudging down the path; the soils glued to her boots. It wasn’t long before she arrived at a clearing. Under the pale shimmer of moonlight, Jisoo found Jennie sitting on a large, flat rock. Jisoo first shed her mask and hood then moved closer to Jennie. The sight of Jennie hugging her knees and shivering in the cold didn’t sit well in Jisoo’s heart.
“If it’s any consolation,” Jisoo started. Her hands buried deep in her pockets; one of them rattled a set of keys. “Even though she’s great at almost everything she does—”
Jisoo chuckled as Jennie whipped her head a tad bit too hard at this.
“She sucks at games,” Jisoo said. She stepped closer as she noticed the movement of Jennie’s mouth. “What was that?”
Again, the answer was inaudible.
“Huh?”
“Like it’s so important to be good at playing games!”
A laugh spurted out of Jisoo’s mouth. Sometimes Jennie was such a baby that Jisoo, and only Jisoo, had to pacify.
“It is to me,” said Jisoo. “She doesn’t even know Overwatch! What’s up with that?” Jisoo scrunched up her face. And Jennie’s lips formed a tiny grin.
“She misses out on all the fun,” Jennie said. She rose to her feet and face Jisoo. The swell of her face didn’t escape Jisoo’s eyes.
It was always hard to see the aftermath of Jennie’s tears but, with her cold-bitten cheeks, Jennie was a rosebud—so beautiful, so fragile. Jisoo wasn’t sure if she was delicate enough to touch Jennie. Maybe she was meant to only see Jennie. She was a singer and Jennie was hung at the Louvre.
“The point is,” Jisoo said, “she’s not you.”
Jennie didn’t say anything for a while; she was just staring into Jisoo’s eyes. The snowfall interrupted whatever it was she was intending to say.
The snows dropped carelessly yet still managed to land on Jennie. Jisoo thought Jennie and snow together was the masterpiece this world could offer her. And who was she to reject?
“Jennie-ah,” Jisoo said. Her voice came out as a whisper since the wind carried most of it away.
Jisoo cupped Jennie’s cheek and marveled at how Jennie’s cheek and her hand just fitted like puzzle pieces destined to be together.
“In the future,” Jisoo began with a caress, “I may say things that hurt you and make you cry.” Jisoo set an unwavering gaze at Jennie. “You know that I’ll never do that intentionally, right?”
Jennie nodded.
“In the future,” Jisoo looked away for a moment, “we might be with other people and be apart—”
“I don’t want us to be apart.”
Jennie put her hand on top of Jisoo’s and gave it a squeeze, her cheek warm against Jisoo’s palm.
It was a pained smile she gave to Jennie as she saw how Jennie’s frown deepened and tears pooled in Jennie’s eyes.
“Like these snows,” Jisoo looked up, “there’s a part of me that will always go to you. That belongs to you, Jennie-ah.”
Jisoo staggered back when Jennie practically threw her body and clung to Jisoo. The swish of the wind bowed in defeat to Jennie’s sobs. It was this unfiltered cry; it was this unadulterated sadness. It was something that brewed in the confinement of Jennie’s chest, clawed its way up the cavity of Jennie’s throat, and barged into the quietness of the night. Jisoo hugged tighter, and Jennie bit into Jisoo’s shoulder. Jisoo wondered—if their story was lost in the dark recesses of Alhambra; if their apple never got to Newton’s hands; if their painting never made it to the wall of the Louvre. Maybe it was meant to be this way.
Or maybe Yongsun unnie was wrong about one thing.
Jisoo knew the director. She knew Newton’s whereabouts. She knew who the curator was.
Yet she omitted.
The last thing Jisoo remembered from that night was the way she had bitten her lower lip so hard it had cracked and how she had questioned which river her tears and Jennie’s would bleed into.