The Quiet Contract

The Real Feelings of Jennie Kim

Jennie POV

I sat on the cold floor outside Lisa's door, my knees pulled up to my chest, my fists clenched tight as if that would somehow stop the pounding ache in my chest. The door was locked. She wasn't answering.

"Lisa," I started again, my voice cracking. "Please, just... open the door. Let me explain."

Nothing. Not a sound from the other side.

I pressed my forehead against the door, my breaths uneven. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I didn't mean any of it. I was angry and confused, and... and scared. But I didn't mean it, I swear."

Still, the silence stretched on, wrapping around me like a punishment.

"Lisa, please. You can't just shut me out," I said louder this time, desperation slipping into my tone. "Yell at me if you're mad! Tell me how awful I am! Just... don't ignore me."

I leaned back, staring at the ceiling as my heart twisted painfully. She was hurt—because of me. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut.

"I didn't hate you," I said, my voice softer now, almost pleading. "I don't hate you. I was just... scared. I didn't know what to do with... with what I was feeling."

No response.

My fingers curled into the fabric of my pants, and I closed my eyes, fighting the tears threatening to spill. "I'm sorry, Lisa," I whispered, barely loud enough for even myself to hear. "I'm so, so sorry."

I didn't even know how long I sat there, my back against her door, just waiting for something—anything. My mind raced, replaying the look on her face when Jisoo's stupid recording played. The way she froze, the light draining from her eyes.

I'd hurt her. And worse, I didn't even realize how much until it was too late.

"Jennie?" Rosé's voice broke through my thoughts.

I looked up to see her kneeling beside me, the playful glint in her eyes gone, replaced with quiet concern.

"Maybe you should give her some space," Rosé said gently. "Lisa's not the type to hold grudges, but she's hurting right now."

I shook my head, swallowing hard. "What if she doesn't forgive me? What if she never wants to talk to me again?"

Rosé hesitated, then placed a hand on my shoulder. "She cares about you, Jennie. Even when she's mad, even when she's hurt. But you can't fix this by forcing her to talk before she's ready."

I blinked back tears, lowering my head. "I didn't realize how much she meant to me," I admitted, my voice breaking.

Rosé didn't say anything to that, but she didn't need to. The understanding in her eyes was enough.

For the first time, I felt the weight of my own feelings fully hit me. And the fear of losing Lisa—it was more than I could bear.

Rosé crouched beside me, her hand still resting gently on my shoulder. She let out a small sigh, her tone soft but firm. "Jennie, maybe it's better if you go home for now."

I looked at her, my chest tightening. "I can't," I said, my voice trembling. "I need to explain. She needs to know that I—"

"Jennie," Rosé interrupted, her voice more insistent this time. "I know you want to fix things right now, but pushing her tonight might only make it worse. Give her some time."

Time. The very word made my stomach churn. How could I just leave, knowing Lisa was behind that door, hurt and angry?

I hesitated, torn, my eyes darting toward the locked door. "I don't want her to think I'm just walking away," I muttered, more to myself than Rosé.