It was an allusion to her band's debut album, of course. There wasn't a music fan alive who could've failed to catch the reference. 'Message To Jennie' was the title of the album that had first rocketed Lisa and her friends to fame, propelling them almost overnight from a group of complete unknowns to one of the most recognisable rock bands on the planet.
It had been an instant classic, considered one of the best break-up albums in recent memory by critics and fans alike. Twelve songs, chronicling all the pain and anger, sadness and regret - everything Lisa had felt after Jennie walked out on her.
But the playlist Lisa had tweeted a couple weeks ago had included more than just those 12 songs. Lisa watched as Rosé clicked the link and pulled up the list. Thirty-two songs, spanning across 'Message To Jennie' and the two follow-up albums as well. Or three follow-up albums, really, if you counted the single from the upcoming album Lisa had leaked. It had been a public confession, that playlist - an attempt to let Jennie know how all these years later, Lisa still wasn't over her.
"Those are my songs," she said to Rosé."I wrote every single word of them myself."
"The rights belong to the label..." Rosé responded, "... and you know that very well."
"So let them sue me."
"Oh, they'll do better than that." Rosé warned. "You keep this up, and they'll drop your ass."
"No one's going to drop us. We sell more tickets than all their other artists combined."
Rosé sat silently, raising her eyebrows at Lisa.
"Fine." Lisa groaned. "I won't leak any more singles. You have my word."
Rosé nodded.
"Are we done here?" Lisa asked.
Rosé tilted her head and shot Lisa a tight smile. "Oh no, my dear..." she said. "We're saving the best for last."
Lisa slumped back against the couch and wearily rubbed her eyes. "The radio broadcast."
Rosé nodded, pulling up a file on her laptop."I've got the tape right here," she said.
"I know what I said."
"Hmmm..." Rosé replied vaguely as she tapped at the computer. "I think I need to hear it again." She hit play.
"That was One Direction with Story of My Life, coming in at number two on the countdown. And now everyone, we've got a caller on the line. A surprise caller. Lisa Manoban!"
"Hey, Zach."
"Lisa, my friend - to what do we owe this honour?"
"You'll never guess where I'm calling from. I'm at a rest stop!"
The radio host laughed at Lisa's joke - another clever little reference - this time to the band's new single, Rest Stop. Another break-up song, that one. Lisa had made quite a career out of them. Everyone assumed this song was about her much-publicised split with her on-again-off-again girlfriend of the past two years.
Only Lisa knew what it was really about: that night, seven years ago, speeding down an empty highway, chasing after a girl who didn't want to be caught. Always the same thing, the same girl, the same night. Every decent song Lisa had ever written was about her.
"Rest stop, huh?" Zach said, chuckling along. "So you just called to tell us that?"
"No, no." Lisa's voice replied. "I've got some unfinished business and I'm hoping you can help me out with."
"What can I do for you, Lisa?"
"There's someone I tried to call once, from a payphone in a rest stop parking lot. Long time ago."
"Cute..." Rosé said to Lisa over the tape.
"Whatever..." Lisa replied. "It was funny."
"Yeah." Rosé agreed. "It was great publicity for the song. Perfect publicity stunt. The kind of thing you might want to discuss first with.... oh, I don't know.... your publicist?"
Lisa cracked a grin. "Ok, I get the point."
"No wait..." Rosé said, holding up a finger. "There's more." She advanced the clip and then hit play again, and Lisa heard her voice speaking seriously now.
"So now I've finally got your new number, Jennie. But we've got the whole world listening in on the line with us, whether we want them there or not. They're not hanging up, Jennie. So we may as well let them in on the truth. Right? No more publicists. No more bullshit."
Lisa studied the backs of her fingernails, unwilling to look up and meet Rosé's glare as she listened to her voice continue speaking.
"Just the truth. Because the truth... the truth is, I have loved you since I was 19 years old, and I will love you for the rest of my life."
There was a click, followed by ten seconds of dead air before Zach's voice filled the silence. "Lisa? Lisa, are you still there?"
"You hung up on him. On Zach Sang. On a nationally syndicated radio show."
Lisa closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"You don't want a publicist anymore?" Rosé said. "That's fine. Good luck to you. Because at the rate you're going, there's not going to be a single media outlet on either coast that's willing to have you on as a guest."
"Rosé, I didn't mean that about the publicists. I was... you know. I was making a point."
"What point were you making, exactly?"
Lisa didn't answer. She turned her head and gazed out her living room window at the pristine view of the Hollywood Hills.
