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"No fucking way." Jennie whispers in utter disbelief to herself as she stares hard at what's in front of her.
"No." She says again, trying to will herself to not hope for something that can't happen.
"Oh my fucking god, no. This is not possible. No." She says to herself louder, firmer this time, anger bubbling inside her paired with the sharp grief from years ago hitting her chest.
Except for beating herself up inside for what she's seeing right now, she can't make herself do more. Jennie can't move, and the only reason she's breathing is because her heart's pumping so fast she feels like she'll faint on the spot.
Jennie grits her teeth and looks at the glass she has tightly clutched in her hand. Damn the fucking alcohol. There's no way what she's seeing is real. No.
She heaves a frustrated sigh and looks back to the side but the image has been replaced with an empty stool, moved just a little further behind. The murmur of the bar makes way again into her ears when she looks everywhere, partly disappointed that what she was seeing in fact, isn't real.
She catches sight of bright dye and turns her head quickly to spot that same girl again - her deceased best friend.
Jennie has a moment of everything weighing down on her, making her stay firmly pressed down to her seat but she gets up. She gets up with such force that the stool she was sitting on topples over and falls to the floor with a loud thud but thankfully, the drunken people slurring their words are too loud, and the bartenders too busy to notice.
She rushes quickly to her "friend" although she knows...she believes with her whole existence that it's not her friend - there's been too many times she has chased after some woman like a fucking stalker and discovered it's not her friend. Fuck, she was in for another expression of confusion and alarm which would haunt her for the rest of the month.
Jennie's hand works on its own accord and she grabs the sleeve of the shirt the girl she has been after is wearing. The girl quickly turns around in alarm and then it's all just in slow motion.
No.
No.
That fucking forehead covered with bangs, those fucking doe eyes, that same button nose, the same fucking full pink lips.
Lisa.
Oh my God.
Oh my fucking God, it's Lisa.
Jennie's face scrunches up with emotion and before she can even comprehend what she's doing, she embraces Lisa. So fucking tight in fear that this moment is going to slip away. So fucking tight that this moment, even if it's an illusion, lasts forever. Within seconds she's sobbing into Lisa's dress shirt, whimpering her name and cursing at her.
"Fuck you, Lisa." She mutters forcefully, pushing the girl harshly by the shoulders, staring at her with an intensity that could shred her to pieces.
"Do...I know you?" The other girl says in Japanese sheepishly, masking a heavy grimace that makes way to her face anyway.
Same voice.
"Oh no no no. Don't you give me that! We both know what's going on here!" Jennie says in Korean, pointing an accusing finger at her.
"Excuse me?" Lisa continues in Japanese, scratching her stupid blonde head and Jennie grits her teeth.
"Lisa. You don't get to do this now. You don't. God knows the amount of places I've searched for you. I...I...seven years, Lisa. Seven fucking years. We t-thought...you left us." Jennie says, struggling between a rollercoaster of emotions.
Lisa's facade falters.
"You don't get to tell me what-" Lisa gasps at her slip. "Fuck." She mutters to herself, all in Korean and covers her face with her hands.
Tears well up in Jennie's eyes again. Oh God, Lisa is real. She's standing here right in front of her, living breathing. Thank God.
"I forgive you, okay? Just come back. Come back to me. To us." Jennie says through her quiet sobs as Lisa balls her fists and looks her dead in the eye before saying,
