Echoes of You - (Rosé x Reader)

Under the surface...Is there something more? - Part 2

Months passed, and their interactions became more frequent. Every time Rosé visited the States, Y/N was there—whether at music events, dinners, or studio sessions.

Their friendship had become something of a quiet anchor in Rosé's whirlwind life. She was constantly on the move—performing, recording, managing the growing pressures of her solo career. But whenever she found herself in Los Angeles, she made time for Y/N.

Y/N wasn't just a mentor, though they had helped Rosé refine her musical style. They were a calming presence, someone who could listen without judgment.

At the time, Rosé was dating someone—someone who didn't quite understand the toll her career took on her, someone who expected her to be constantly available, always "on." It left her drained, caught in the trap of balancing her personal life with the demands of fame.

With Y/N, things felt different. Y/N didn't expect her to be anything other than herself, and somehow that made her feel seen in a way she hadn't in a while.

One evening, they sat across from each other at a dimly lit café. The low hum of conversations, the occasional clink of silverware, and the soft jazz playing in the background set the scene for a rare moment of peace. Rosé's fingers absentmindedly traced the rim of her coffee cup, the steam rising in delicate spirals.

"Everything okay with your boyfriend?" Y/N asked casually, their voice gentle but with a quiet intensity that caught Rosé off guard.

Her fork stilled mid-air. She hadn't planned on talking about it, but something about Y/N's steady gaze made her want to open up. She set the fork down and met their eyes. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "He's been distant lately. We're not... we're not connecting the way we used to."

Y/N didn't say anything at first. They simply leaned back in their chair, studying her with a quiet attentiveness that felt more like an embrace than an observation. There was something in their eyes—sympathy, concern—but it was a type of care that wasn't intrusive. Just present.

"It's tough," Y/N said after a beat, their voice a little softer now, as if they understood more than they were letting on. "Relationships, especially ones in the public eye. It's like you're always performing—even when you're not on stage."

Rosé's chest tightened at the truth in their words. She hadn't realized how much she needed to hear that until now. She met their gaze, a flicker of gratitude crossing her face. Y/N understood. Really understood.

Before she could speak further, her phone buzzed in her pocket, pulling her back to reality. The moment slipped away, but as she glanced at Y/N, there was no judgment in their expression—just a quiet acknowledgment that it was okay.

She excused herself to take the call, feeling an odd sense of guilt, like she had interrupted something important. Y/N gave her a small nod, almost like a silent reassurance that she didn't have to explain herself.

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The next day, the studio hummed with activity as Rosé walked in, greeted by the familiar presence of Y/N. They were already there, as always, leaning casually against the control desk, talking with the engineer, but when their eyes met, a soft, knowing smile spread across Y/N's face.

"Morning, Rosé," Y/N greeted, their voice calm but with that certain warmth that made everything else in the room seem to quiet down.

"Morning, Y/N," Rosé replied, trying to keep her voice steady, though a flutter stirred in her chest. It wasn't just their smile—it was the way they said her name, as if they had spent the whole night thinking about it, turning it over like it was something precious.