The Domino Effect (Chaennie)

Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"Don't you think Alice's gone a little overboard this time?" Jennie asks, holding out the poster in front of her as she inquisitively stares at Alice's blown up face, pearly whites on full display.

Rosie lets out a small scoff, looking over Jennie's shoulder. "Yeah," She easily agrees, "but when has she not?"

The reply makes Jennie chuckle as she slides the poster into the copying machine, pressing a few buttons.

School had just gotten out and the two girls were cramped together in the small art closet, making prom queen posters for Alice in support of her campaign.

Rosie knows she agreed to do this, but she kind of wishes she could be anywhere else but here, her front almost pressed to Jennie's back as the small room felt indefinitely smaller with the filled racks and shelves lining the walls.

It smells like dusty cardboard and one of the flickering lights above them was starting to give Rosie a headache.

Alice had practically begged Jennie for the favor, however, seeing as Jennie was one of the only students who had access to the art room. Perks of being a prodigy, Rosie supposed.

Rosie was there for. . . moral support, or whatever. Okay, fine, it was more of an excuse to spend more time with Jennie, but as Rosie's eyes wander and she sees a spider web in the corner, she definitely wishes she was anywhere else but here.

"Are you even sure your dad is gonna let her hang these around school?" Jennie asks as she gets a better look at the copies of the poster, the slogan Don't be a b*tch, vote this witch for prom queen! written in bold lettering across the bottom of each poster.

"I don't know, I don't think Alice ever showed him." She answers honestly, but she gives it three hours max after they hang them up before their dad tears them down.

Jennie only hums in response, a stale silence washing over them as the only sound of the machine whirring fills the small closet.

It's a cold room, something Rosie notes as she wraps her arms around herself. If she shuffles just the slightest closer towards Jennie, neither of them acknowledges it.

"Soo," Rosie draws out, the quiet beginning to feel suffocating,"any of these drawings yours?" She asks, noting the various racks holding a plethora of art pieces, whether it be oil or charcoal.

"Umm," Jennie turns around, peering around the room, "maybe." She answers unsurely. "Probably nothing recent though."

Rosie takes it upon herself to explore, even though she can reach all four corners of the room within six steps.

Taking quick glances, a particular drawing catches her eye, almost startling her with how uncanny it is. "Is this my house?" She asks bewildered, momentarily terrified that a stalker was afoot.

Jennie peeks over her shoulder, eyes furrowed before they widen in recognition as she begins stammering. "Oh my god," She mutters quietly, wracking her brain for an explanation that wouldn't make her sound creepy, "Hanbin's window has a really good view of your house." Okay, mission failed.

"It was our architecture unit, and I don't know I was practically at his house more than mine, and I could just turn my head and your house was right there." Jennie can feel her cheeks redden with every passing second, a marvelous feat for someone who prided herself on how composed she normally is.

Rosie stares at it in blank awe, completely captivated by how Jennie could make a house look like a breathing, living being.

Somehow, in a pencil sketch, Jennie had captured the absolute gloom that had emanated from the house in waves at the time, like it was breathing.