Director of feelings | chaesoo / jenlisa

It's rather to die

♫
Vancouver Sleep Clinic - Killing me to love you
(this song for me is a kind of ost and inspiration of this story, because listening to it I started writing this work and now I can't sit down to write without its accompaniment and it very suitable for the plot. Sooo listen.)

Are there limits to hatred? Someone says yes. But why did Jisoo's hatred bring these very facets to hell?

Die, Park Rosé, from this hatred.

Jisoo has already wished the blonde death so many times that it should have happened. But no. She lives. Goes to classes. She's smiling. Mocks Jisoo. Burns Kim with hers eyes. And... she lives.

Jisoo can't live with it.

She looks at herself in the mirror and does not recognize the girl in the reflection.

The chin shook when she looks at the bags under her eyes and the sucking on her neck. These didn't exist before. Rosé didn't pay attention to her for a whole week. After that incident, she didn't touch her. Jisoo doesn't seem to be alive anymore. Because the shit that happens to her can't be called life. It's survival. Like in the hunger games. Rosé is a hungry beast, and Jisoo is a small victim who is trying to grab some kind of salvation.

Yesterday Rosé was embarrassed that some classmate had paid attention to Jisoo. Did pay attention to the simpleton? Although the guy was wearing glasses, Rosé was sure they weren't helping him.

After catching Jisoo in the gateway when she was walking home, she put a couple of suckers around her neck with the words "so that others know." What they did know? Is she a whore? Park Roseanne's personal whore? Defective by her?

Someone climbs into the soul with dirty hands, someone wipes feet on it, someone spits. Park Rosé did everything at once. Without hesitation.

Is something breaks down? Is something cracking? Her soul?

Fragments of her soul. She torned her to death. And here we go. The result. It breaks down. Already on the verge of becoming "broken."

Jisoo looks convulsively at the sink, trying not to let her eyes tear. After picking up the scissors, she cuts off the hair to the shoulder with a light movement.

For what?

Rosé said she likes to wind Jisoo's long hair on her fist. Now choke, bitch. Stupid? The only way to annoy. After all, she's not capable of anything else.

"Ho...holy shit..."

Jinah even dropped a cigarette from her fingers when she saw a new image of a friend on a video call. Nice, of course. Jisoo with this length became even more like a child. But she knew how the younger one valued her long hair, and here's such a turn.

"Why the fuck?" Jinah sighed heavily and sat down to move away from what she saw.

"I asked not to say more such words," Jisoo snorted dissatisfiedly, slopping her back on the bed, and looked condemningly at her friend through the phone.

Regular Jisoo. The one Jinah is used to seeing. But she learned to pretend. She only knows: if she disconnects, everything will come back.

"Oh, I'm sorry for my statement," as if realizing, the girl puts her hand to her chest, showing all her regret. "Tell me, please, dear, why the fuck did you cut your beautiful hair?"

How to explain to a friend? To break one psycho? So that the rapist doesn't have fun? There's no way to explain.

"Just wanted to," Jisoo doesn't find the best answer.