SUPERRR SHORTTTT
"Look at this," Lisa said, furiously tapping a black dry-erase marker against the whiteboard. "Look at the mathematics, Unnie! Not a single relationship in six years has crossed the ninety-day threshold. It's an engineered scientific anomaly!"
Chaeyoung, curled up on the couch in a oversized gray hoodie with her legs tucked under her, took a slow sip of iced Americano. "It's not an anomaly, Lisa. It's a dictatorship."
"Exactly!" Lisa threw her arms up, pacing across the polished marble floor of their suite. "Jennie-unnie dates whoever she wants! She can date a high-fashion model, a rapper, a foreign CEO, or an idol, and if anyone says a word, she puts on her sunglasses and walks away like a queen. But the moment Jisoo-unnie so much as accepts a coffee from a gorgeous human being, Jennie turns into a CIA operative!"
Across the room, sitting cross-legged on the rug in front of the coffee table, Kim Jisoo didn't even look up from her Nintendo Switch. Her thumbs clicked rapidly against the Joy-Cons as her character dodged an attack in Zelda.
"Jennie just cares about me," Jisoo said mild-manneredly, her tone cool and entirely unbothered. "She has good instincts about people."
"Instincts?!" Chaeyoung nearly choked on her coffee. "Unnie, she told you Wi Ha-joon's dimples were a sign of psychological manipulation!"
"Well, they were very deep," Jisoo murmured, squinting at her screen. "And she said he looked like he didn't drink enough water. She was worried about his kidney health."
Lisa dropped her marker onto the glass table with a dramatic clatter. "She doesn't care about his kidneys! She hated that he held your hand during the movie premiere! Do you know what she told me in the car that night? She looked me dead in the eye and said, 'Why is he touching her? His hands aren't even smooth.'"
Jisoo paused her game. The soft blue glow of the screen illuminated her delicate face, her heart-shaped lips curving into a gentle, indulgent smile. "Jennie's hands are very smooth, though. She uses that expensive Chanel cream."
Lisa and Chaeyoung exchanged a look of pure, exasperated despair.
_________
In the idol industry, everyone knew that Jennie and Jisoo were practically glued at the hip. They were "JenSoo"—the legendary dynamic duo whose bond pre-dated debut, pre-dated fame, and survived the crushing weight of global stardom. They had their own unspoken language: eye rolls across crowded award show stages, shared coats in freezing winter airports, subtle hand squeezes behind microphones during grueling press conferences.
Fans adored it. Variety show hosts teased them about it.
What the public didn't see was the terrifyingly territorial perimeter Jennie Kim drew around Jisoo's heart.
It wasn't that Jennie hid her affection; she brandished it like armor. If Jisoo was in the room, Jennie's default position was attached to her side—her head resting on Jisoo's shoulder, her fingers idly weaving through Jisoo's long hair, or her dark eyes fixed on anyone who dared linger too long in Jisoo's personal space.
"She's doing it again," Chaeyoung whispered behind a rack of custom leather jackets in the dressing room of a major music festival.
Lisa peeked through the hanging clothes.
On the plush velvet sofa in the center of the room, Jisoo was checking her phone. Standing directly behind her, chin propped on top of Jisoo's head, was Jennie. Jennie's arms were wrapped snugly around Jisoo's collarbone, her eyes glued to Jisoo's phone screen.
"Who are you messaging?" Jennie asked, her voice dropping into that low, sleepy cat-like register she only used with Jisoo.
"Yuna," Jisoo replied easily, her thumb flying across KakaoTalk. "She sent a picture of her new puppy."
