Hawái (Chaesoo)

Chapter Four: Crossing Paths

Seoul was buzzing with energy, its streets alive with the sounds of car horns, street vendors, and throngs of people rushing through the cold December air. Rosé pulled her coat tighter around her as she stepped out of her car, her heart pounding. She had returned from Hawai'i just a week ago, but her mind hadn’t stopped racing. The moment she saw Jisoo’s cryptic post, she knew she couldn’t stay silent any longer.

She glanced up at the entrance to the small studio where Jisoo had reportedly been recording. It wasn’t a coincidence—Rosé had asked around, subtle inquiries that led her here. She didn’t know what she was going to say, only that she had to see her.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside. The receptionist glanced up and smiled politely.

“Good afternoon, how can I help you?”

“I’m here to see Kim Jisoo,” Rosé said, her voice steady despite the nerves bubbling in her chest.

The receptionist hesitated, clearly unsure of whether to let her through. But before she could respond, a familiar voice called out.

“Rosé?”

Rosé turned sharply to see Jisoo standing at the end of the hallway, wearing a casual hoodie and jeans. Her hair was pulled back into a loose bun, and she looked every bit as beautiful as Rosé remembered.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The air between them was heavy with unspoken words. Finally, Jisoo gestured for her to follow.

---

They ended up in a small recording booth, the air thick with tension. Jisoo leaned against the mixing desk, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. Rosé stood awkwardly near the door, unsure of how to begin.

“You’re back,” Jisoo said, her tone neutral.

“I am,” Rosé replied softly. She searched Jisoo’s face for any sign of warmth, but there was only guarded curiosity. “I heard your song.”

Jisoo’s posture stiffened, but she said nothing.

“It was beautiful,” Rosé continued. “I... I felt every word. It felt like—”

“Don’t,” Jisoo interrupted, her voice sharper than she intended. She took a deep breath and softened slightly. “Don’t assume it was about you.”

Rosé flinched but held her ground. “I’m not assuming. I just... I needed to know.”

Jisoo let out a bitter laugh. “What does it matter? You seemed perfectly happy in Hawai'i, smiling for the cameras with Jaehyun.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Rosé said quickly. “He’s just a friend. It was never about him.”

“Then why?” Jisoo demanded, her voice rising. “Why leave? Why post all those pictures, acting like everything was fine while I was—” She stopped herself, turning away.

“While you were what?” Rosé pressed, stepping closer.

Jisoo turned back to face her, her eyes filled with anger and pain. “While I was falling apart, Rosé. While I was writing songs just to make sense of everything. You think it was easy watching you move on like I didn’t matter?”

“You mattered!” Rosé said, her voice cracking. “You still matter. I just didn’t know how to fix us.”

The confession hung in the air, raw and unfiltered.

---

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Jisoo stared at Rosé, her expression softening as the weight of her words sank in. “I didn’t know how to fix us either,” she admitted quietly.

Rosé took a tentative step closer. “Maybe we don’t need to fix everything all at once. Maybe we just need to talk.”

Jisoo looked down, her hands gripping the edge of the desk. “Talking won’t change what happened.”

“No,” Rosé said, her voice steady now. “But it might help us understand why it happened. And maybe... maybe it’ll help us figure out if there’s still something worth fighting for.”

Jisoo looked up at her, the vulnerability in her eyes stark against the tough exterior she had tried so hard to maintain. “I don’t know if I can go through losing you again.”

“You won’t,” Rosé whispered. “Not if we do this right.”

---

They sat down, the small space suddenly feeling less suffocating. Jisoo poured them both a glass of water from the mini fridge, and for the first time in weeks, there was a sense of calm between them.

“I guess we should start at the beginning,” Jisoo said with a small, humorless smile.

Rosé nodded. “We were both scared, weren’t we? Scared of losing each other, but also scared of how much we needed each other.”

Jisoo swirled her glass, her gaze distant. “And instead of facing it, we let the pressure pull us apart.”

Rosé reached out hesitantly, her fingers brushing Jisoo’s. “I don’t want to let it pull us apart anymore.”

Jisoo met her eyes, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Neither do I.”