Brighter Than My Porch Light

Some Days She's the Cure, Most Days She's the Wound

I drove to Jennie's practice studio, and my car smelled like the flowers freshly picked from a garden. I wanted this to be extravagant, so I also bought food. I want to see her cute smile that could brighten up everyone's day.

The guards had to help me carry the things up to Jennie's studio. A couple of artists glanced to say hello from afar, some took a photo of the pretty flowers.

As we entered the room, all heads turned around to look at me. Jennie saw me; she produced an enchanting smile.

Jennie does her little jumps when she's happy, like a cute, fluttering duck, trying to fly. I could hear her squealing with joy, ready to charge towards me.

My energy can't match hers.

Hers, vibrant and active.

Mine is peaceful and serious.

We're the opposite of each other. Probably because of age. A 5-year gap isn't huge, but sometimes I notice the difference.

And there she is, charging towards me as she throws herself at me. She hugs me tight; I hug back tighter.

We held on for a while, closing my eyes. Warm skin, heart at ease, and an overjoyed feeling.

I talked softly in her ear,

"I'm sorry for being ridiculous lately. I just felt guilty that I can't come with you on trips. My workload, you know. And I think... we should, I think, how... actually... you know... uh"

I stuttered, and she hushed me.

Jennie pulled away from our hug and grabbed both of my hands; her hands were soft and warm. I thought these were the fingers that belonged in between mine.

She looked straight into my eyes, smiled, and said, "It's okay. We are okay," then gave a slight nod.

She gave me a look of assurance and security. I'm lucky.

"I bought food for everyone," I said, pointing at the paper bags piled on the table.

"I noticed, haha. Thank you. Are we going to feed the whole building? Did you buy the entire restaurant? Are you running for election?" Jennie threw banters at me, squinting her eyes and playing with my hand.

"But all these flowers are yours," I said proudly, directing her to the massive flowers I bought.

"Thank you, you're so romantic," her eyes and smile widened at the same time. I just enjoy staring at pretty people, how they smile, and get shy.

She kissed me. Those smiles in between kisses are my favorite ones.

She started scanning the flowers, taking 50 shots of them in 1 minute.

I missed this, just being around her.

We would go on road trips after work and explore new hobbies together. She baked a 2-tier Black Marble fondant cake for my birthday, so I baked a 3-tier Red Velvet sponge cake for her birthday. She loves my competitiveness.

We would call each other during mini-breaks, and everything would feel right in this world. That's how we make each other feel loved.

Sadly... that was a year ago.

No matter how much we adjust, we still argue about petty things. I don't understand why it is unavoidable.

"We still need to talk about us. I want to tell you something you'd surely love," I said, feeling giddy, standing adjacent to her.

"We will, after my practice? Let's go for dinner. I'm free tonight," she assured me.

She leaned over for another quick kiss and zoomed away. I went to the other room, and waited for hours, eating, and practicing my lines for my drama series.

I checked my phone, 2 missed calls from Seulgi. No texts. Hmmm, maybe it's not that important. "At Jennie's studio, we'll have dinner later. So happy," I texted.

Seulgi is calling again. As I rejected her call, I texted, "I will call you before my script reading tonight. Hope I won't be late. Jennie is taking so long."

I wonder why she can't just text me.

I must leave for my shoot; it's been long hours. Our director might reprimand me for being late. "Where's Jennie?" I groaned stressfully.

After another hour, Jennie finally barged into the room I was in.

"I'm so sorry," she's regretful, her eyes narrowed with guilt. "I'm sorry; we can't have dinner. I have to meet the producers of the Grand Academy Awards."

WHAT?!

WHAT?!

I stood up so angrily fast I thought I was going to keel over. I stared at her in disbelief.

"But... we haven't had a decent date for months. I want to tell you something; I want to tackle it now," I said, trying to be as calm as I could be.

My jaws are pulled in tightly, glancing around in different directions of the room.

Jennie explained how their meetings got moved, the producers demanded this and that, it's supposed to be tomorrow, blah blah blah.

It's like I became deaf, and all I could hear was "Sorry, can't, next time" running around my head.

Jennie is frantic and upset as well. "I miss you, our dates. I'm frustrated too, but I can't say no to this... would you?"

"Well, I don't know. If my relationship is in shambles and I got one last shot to patch things up, I probably would!" I said loud and clear, giving her the kind of tone that asks for a fight.

"Last shot? What is that, an ultimatum? You're giving our relationship an ultimatum? Now or never?" Jennie replied, ready for a new fight.

"I'm not saying it's the la--" I was about to answer when she interrupted me and yelled, "Coming from you, who claims she loves me haha but can't even have time for her girlfriend. Or am I? Am I still your girlfriend?"

It ticked me off.

"No time? I waited for hours, isn't this... TIME?" I just lost it.

"It took you days to apologize. I kept asking for your free time. You can't even squeeze me into your schedule..." Her voice is kind of breaking; it's heartbreaking to hear.

We kept fighting over who was busier, exerting more effort and time ugh, it is so draining. No winners, just losers.

"I'm sorry. I have to go," she said, lowering her tone. She left the room apologetic but furious. I'm left disappointed.

She did not even kiss me; it made things worse.

I stared at the wall, screaming in my head, standing like a mannequin.

But I waited, I thought. I freaking waited again until I was late.

Oh holy, I am late!

I took my car key and script from the table.

So, I dashed to the hallway and parking lot, drove to our building, and ran. I was panting when I entered the room.

And our director... isn't mad?

I'm 30 minutes late, and our director, Jisoo, isn't mad.

She's pretty and looks angelic but feared for her infamous strictness and making actors cry on sets.

"Off you go," she said with a poker face, gesturing with her hand to my designated seat.

I moved swiftly, apologizing while I nibbled the bottom of my lower lip.

The universe must have taken pity on me and decided to end my night a bit amusingly.