A Taste of Tulips [JENLISA]

Tulips 5 [Each Side]

A series of exasperated sighs was slipping out from the red plump lips of the oncologist. She mindlessly shoves a spoon of veggie fajitas in her mouth, oblivious to the arching of brows, the exchanging of glances, and the curious stares of her two friends sitting opposite her. They're currently lounging at the crowded hospital canteen, eating their lunch after a chain of surgeries, therapies, and medical rounds.

"Someone gets up on the wrong side of the bed," Irene goads, paying the oncologist a glance. "What's wrong, Jennie? You've been like this for days."

Instead of retorting, Jennie just released another long sigh, then went back to eating her vegan, totally ignoring Irene's provocation. Irene side-glanced at the woman beside her, who just gave her a shrug.

"Must be from the family dinner," Rosé conjectures, eyeing her unusually quiet friend.

All at once, the surgical oncologist falters from her action and slowly sets her motionless eyes on the eating Rosé. She slowly places the spoon aside, bringing the glass of pomegranate juice to her lips while leaning back to her chair.

Rosé placed a smirk on her rosy lips, waggling her brows. "Did I just hit a home run?"

The oncologist just rolled her eyes instead of answering.

"Well, if you're kind enough, stop putting air in and answer us already." Irene's breath out then continues. "What—happened—Jennie?" she probes.

The oncologist fidgets in her seat and hesitantly sets her eyes on her two friends, who seem to run out of patience, groaning while waiting for her pending response. Most likely, the groans came from Irene.

"Are you telling us or not?" she fussed.

"Fine, fine—Calm your ass down, Irene." Dr. Kim jests, but takes a deep breath right after, waiting for a few minutes before dropping the bomb. "I'm getting married," she nonchalantly states with a poker face.

The sagging of the mouth, the widening of the eyes, and the continuous coughing were all the reactions Jennie received from her friends. They stared at her in bewilderment, not taking the revelation on the right side.

"What a fucking sick joke is that, Jennie?!" Irene spoke in disbelief after finding her own voice.

Rosé maintains the spook reaction on her face. "Wait—don't tell me you went along with your mom's unreasonable request?" Jennie only nods in response.

"You didn't object? Oh, God! The queen of all the dumbs!" Irene scoffs, folding her arms above her chest and inclining back to the chair.

"Like hell, I can!? We're talking about my mom here; you knew her very well," she countered.

"You can at least decline, Jennie. Think about this: you're going to marry someone you haven't exchanged at least a dozen words with, or who doesn't even know your favorite food, color, artist, or how bad your taste in music is.

"Hey, hey, stop right there, Irene. I think I'll be hearing a long list of insults coming from you." Jennie rolls her eyes amidst gesturing her hands for a stop.

"Fine!" she huffed.

"Why are you so bland about it?" It was Rosé's turn to probe.

"I already accepted my cruel fate, Rosie." She averted her focus somewhere else, looking ahead and staring at nothingness." As if I had a choice, I could only silently wail my despair," she mumbled.

"It must've been hard for you, J." Rosé says, throwing her a look of sympathy.

Irene raised her hand mid-air, trying to find a way to be acknowledged. Allow me to share my honest thoughts, if I may. "Jennie stared at her and hummed in response.