Lisa
I grab the cat on the way out. It's an ugly little thing, its beady eyes protruding from its overly stuffed face, but I don't consider any of the money to be wasted. I buy a card from a Hallmark store across the street and race to Seoul with my new purchases.
She's not there when I arrive. I'm simultaneously disappointed and relieved, but her absence grants me an opportunity to leave the cat while still, hopefully, giving her the space she requests.
Jennie sends me a text that night to thank me for the cat. Every word from her sends my adrenaline racing; I stare at each message, hoping and praying that the next will be the defining statement. I irrationally hope that she will forgive me - or at least try - and will possibly hint at wanting to see me again in the future.
But this doesn't happen. She requests more time, more space, which has me groaning into the silence of my living room.
Time is obviously what she needs, and I find myself willing to wait a thousand lifetimes for her forgiveness. And this realization - the simple fact that I'm suddenly putting so much thought and care and persistence into one person - is terrifying in the most gratifying of ways, and I decide I wouldn't give it up for the world.
It's been so long since I've felt this way. It's horrifying and fantastic, comforting and torturous. I want to rip my hair out and beg for forgiveness and - admittedly - see Jennie naked all at the same time. I can't make sense of the swarm of overwhelming emotions.
I decide to give Jennie her space. Perhaps it's what she really needs. Perhaps I'm driving her further away when I bother her.
I don't doubt this conclusion until Rosé calls me.
It's early in the evening and I've just gotten home, having avoided another call from Irene and the subsequent guilt-trip I would have received for abruptly ending our contact. When I answer, Rosé instantly begins raving about her new phone.
"You should see it, Lisa! It's a touch screen and has a qwerty keyboard and I can listen to music on it and check my mail - even my school mail - and I can get on Facebook and YouTube and manage my bank account and do pretty much anything else I feel like!"
A bought of static interferes with her words. "I can't hear you well, Rosé," I say.
"Yeah, I had to swap to a different provider to get the phone," she says, a slight hint of disdain to her voice.
"The service is kind of crappy here. Hold on, I'll go stand by the window."
"I see," I say thoughtfully. This light conversation has offered a welcome distraction, putting me more at ease as I anticipate the gruelling conversation to come. "So basically you can do everything on it except actually call people?"
"I can call people!" she exclaims with a huff. "I called you, didn't I? And I get better service outside."
"Right," I say teasingly. She huffs again, and I picture her rolling her eyes.
"So what's up?" she asks conversationally, moving the discussion along. My heart rate increases at just the mere thought of what I'm going to say. Without waiting for me to answer, she adds, "How's Jennie?"
It's as though my heart has plummeted right to the bottom of my stomach. I hate that I'm going to have to bring this news. "We're not seeing each other anymore," I finally answer. The words are cautious, fearful of an impending explosion.
But she's silent. I begin to worry, but finally she says, very slowly, "Uh huh. Why?"
Her tone is incredulous and accusing. She already blames me.
"It's a long story," I say with a sigh. "But it actually has a lot to do with you. I need to talk to you about some things."
"It has a lot to do with me?" she squeaks. "All I ever did was say how great she was! There's no way you can blame me for this! What did you do, Lalisa Pranpriya Manoban!"
I cringe at the sudden, static-y rise of her voice, not to mention her use of my full name.
I figure it's best to just purge myself of this information all at once. Before I can dwell on the repercussions of what I'm about to say, I begin relaying the story, all from the beginning, and include every tiny, sordid detail. I ignore her gasps of surprise and little exclamations in between; I ignore the silence from her end when I reveal that Jennie knew about the bet the entire time.
I ignore it all, because otherwise, I won't be able to finish.
When I'm done, I allow a silence to hang in the wake of my confession. I can hear little particles of static that indicate she hasn't hung up, but I'm otherwise at a loss.
I imagine she's wondering where to begin. The bet? The wager? My interaction with Kai? Jennie's knowledge? It feels like a lifetime has passed before I finally lose my nerve and break the silence.
"Rosé? Are you okay?"
"I..." She hesitates. "No, I'm not okay," she finally says. "Why would you do that, Lisa?"
I groan. "I don't know."
"I mean, I guess I understand why you did it," she goes on, as if I hadn't spoken. "I mean, it really means a lot to me that you care so much. And that you want to help Chanyeol. But why would you bet your company? You and Marco built that company from the ground up. I know it would have crushed the both of you to see it go to a sleaze-bag like Kai. It would have crushed me."
She's right. I don't even have to agree, because the truth in her words is so glaringly obvious. "And Jennie? She didn't deserve any of that," she says sadly. "She's a really nice person. And I just...I had this feeling about the two of you. I know you always think I'm crazy, but my feelings are always right. They just are. But this is just... I don't know... it's so messed up!"
She seems genuinely upset about this. Though I don't reveal this, her emotions are actually an exact mirror image of my own.
