Rosé let out an exasperated sigh. "Let's rewind," she said, as she backed up the clip and played a snippet of it again.
Dispatcher: Can you say that again, please?
Jennie Kim: 3120 Ledgewood Drive in Hollywood-
"What?" Jennie said. "They needed her address."
"It's all good." Lisa shrugged. "I was sick of that house anyway."
"What do you mean?"
Rosé answered for Lisa. "I drove by an hour ago. They're camped out all the way down the block."
"Who is?" Jennie asked.
"Who isn't?" Rosé responded. "Paparazzi, TV trucks, fans... I'm pretty sure there was a Hollywood tour bus pulling up when I was leaving."
Jennie's jaw dropped. "You're kidding."
"Well, that's what happens when Lisa Manoban's home address gets broadcast on every media outlet in the country simultaneously."
"They needed her address," Jennie protested. "What was I supposed to do?"
Lisa looked at Rosé. "Lay off," Lisa said. "She didn't know."
"Know what?" Jennie asked.
Rosé looked up at the ceiling.
"You called 911," Lisa said quietly.
"You were unconscious and bleeding!" Jennie exclaimed. "Was I supposed to let you bleed to death?"
"It's ok," Lisa said to Rosé.
Jennie looked back and forth between the two of them, waiting for someone to explain.
"911 is for the general public," Rosé said at last. "Lisa is not a member of the general public."
"There's a special number," Lisa explained. She turned back to the publicist and said again, "She didn't know."
"What?" Jennie asked. "Like a what-a VIP section for 911?"
"Yeah." Lisa nodded. "Kind of like when I bump my head the Chief of Neurology is my doctor. There's a VIP section for just about everything in this town, if you haven't noticed."
Jennie looked down at the bed. "Oh," she said. "I didn't know."
"It's ok. Seriously, I've been meaning to put that house on the market anyway."
"You're kidding." Jennie looked at Lisa incredulously. "It's not that bad, is it?"
"I checked you into the secure suite at the Beverly Hilton," Rosé said by way of response, handing Lisa a pair of hotel key cards. "You can go there for now."
"We can't go back to Lisa's house?"
"Is she always this quick on the uptake?" Rosé muttered to Lisa, over Jennie's head.
Lisa shot her publicist a warning look.
"No, my dear," Rosé said to Jennie with a forced smile. "Lisa can't go back to her house."
Jennie sat down heavily on the bed and rested her forehead in her hands. "Lisa, I am so sorry."
Lisa put her arm around Jennie's shoulders. "It's ok, little girl," she said. "The Beverly Hilton is fine. You'll like it."
"Can we talk about the other thing now?" Rosé continued.
"There's more?" Jennie asked, her face still buried in her hands.
Rosé turned back to the laptop and advanced the clip a few frames further:
Dispatcher: Do you have any sense for how long she was unconscious before you found her?
Jennie Kim: I didn't find her. I was there when she fell.
Dispatcher: You were in the bathroom?
Jennie Kim: I was in the shower with her.
"So we were in the shower together," Lisa said to Rosé. "Big fucking deal."
"Are we still not confirming the nature of the relationship?" Rosé responded.
"I think it's pretty obvious at this point, no?"
Rosé gave an exaggerated sigh and then spoke slowly and deliberately, as if explaining something to a small child. "When a reporter calls and asks me to confirm, what do you want me to say?"
Jennie looked down, avoiding Lisa's eyes. She felt sick to her stomach. From the moment she saw the paramedics carrying Lisa to the ambulance this morning, she'd known she was just kidding herself about getting on a plane back to New York. She couldn't just hit rewind on her life - go back to the way it was before she started seeing Lisa again. There was no going back. She loved Lisa.
But she saw now, clear as day, that she had absolutely no business being a part of Lisa's life. She didn't belong here. She didn't know the first thing about crop-tops, and club hopping, and VIP sections. She'd been here less than 24 hours, and look how much damage she'd already managed to do. Lisa was being a good sport about it now, but she knew Lisa must be regretting ever asking her to come out here to visit. Lisa probably regretted even giving Jennie her real phone number. The leaky phone would have made more sense. The one for people Lisa couldn't afford to trust.
"You know how this goes, Lisa," Rosé was saying to her. "What are we calling it? There's 'friend.' There's 'close friend.' There's 'close personal friend.'" She paused a beat. "And then there's girlfriend."
Lisa glanced at Jennie. She knew which choice she wanted to say. In fact, the one Lisa really wanted wasn't even on the list. Fiancée had a nice ring to it. Wife sounded even better. But of course she couldn't say either of those. At least 'girlfriend' would be a step in the right direction. Lisa watched Jennie's face for a moment, hoping Jennie would give her some kind of signal, but she was looking down, playing with the corner of the bedsheet - carefully avoiding Lisa's eyes.
Lisa let out a long breath. Jennie had been in LA for less than 24 hours, but the plan to convince her to stay couldn't possibly have gone any worse than it had so far. Jennie wouldn't even look at her right now. Forget 'girlfriend.' Forget even 'close friend.' Were they friends at all right now? At the rate they were going, would they even be on speaking terms by the end of the day?
Look at me, Jennie, Lisa said to her inside her head. Give me a sign.
Jennie's eyes remained firmly fixed on the bedsheet.
"Lisa?" Rosé prompted her again.
"No comment," Lisa muttered, tearing her eyes away from Jennie's face and meeting Rosé's gaze instead. "When they call and ask you to confirm, you just tell them 'No comment.'"
