The internet loves a good "they hate each other now" conspiracy theory. It's practically a rite of passage for girl group members once they enter their solo eras, pack out separate schedules, and stop living in the exact same dorm or hotel room. For Jennie and Jisoo, the rumor mill had been spinning for months.
"Did they unfollow the vibe?"
"Why hasn't Jisoo commented on Jennie's last three Instagram dumps?"
"Are JenSoo officially hates each other?"
Jennie Kim, currently sitting on the plush white rug of her temporary Los Angeles apartment at two in the morning, let out a loud, deeply unglamorous snort, her thumb flicking past another deeply unserious TikTok edit analyzing their supposed estrangement based on the way they stood three feet apart at a brand event six months ago.
She rolled onto her stomach, kicking her bare feet in the air, and hit the FaceTime button.
It rang precisely twice before a very disheveled, makeup-free Kim Jisoo appeared on the screen, her hair pulled up into a ridiculous pineapple top-knot that defied gravity, wearing an oversized grey hoodie that definitely belonged to Jennie.
"If you're calling to tell me you bought another vintage Chanel jacket that costs more than a small car, I am hanging up and revoking your company credit card privileges," Jisoo announced immediately, her voice still raspy with sleep.
"I didn't buy a jacket," Jennie mumbled, resting her chin on her folded arms, her gaze instantly softening at the sight of her girlfriend's face. "Well. Not today. But do you miss me? The internet says we're feuding because I posted a photo dump of my lunch and didn't include your face."
Jisoo let out a soft, melodic laugh, shifting the phone so she was propping it up against a ceramic mug on her bedside table, curling into her duvet. "Oh, right. The great Jensoo civil war of twenty-twenty-six. How will we ever recover? Did you explain to them that if I posted the pictures currently sitting in my 'Baby Jendeuk' album, the entire K-pop industry would spontaneously combust?"
"Exactly," Jennie groaned, a fond, helpless smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "They think we're keeping a respectful distance. They don't know that your last three photo dumps are devoid of me because I literally threatened to fire our manager if she let you post them. Do you know what you look like when you lean against my shoulder in that halter top? It's illegal. It's classified. It's for my eyes only."
"Possessive," Jisoo teased, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she beamed that blinding, heart-melting smile that never failed to scramble Jennie's brain cells. "My little baby mandukie is being possessive again."
"I have every right to be possessive. You're gorgeous and everyone wants to marry you, and I'm sitting in LA eating cold tacos while you're eating tteokbokki in Seoul without me," Jennie whined, poking dramatically at the camera lens.
"You chose to go to America for three weeks, baby," Jisoo pointed out gently, her voice dipping into that low, sweet register she reserved exclusively for late-night calls when the world was quiet. "Who was the one who said, 'Unnie, I need to conquer the Western hemisphere'?"
"I take it back. The Western hemisphere is overrated. There's too much traffic and nobody knows how to make a proper spicy soup. Come here Jichu."
"I'm on a different continent, Jennie-ya."
"So fly private. Put it on my tab."
"You are a menace." Jisoo sighed, though she looked thoroughly endeared, tracing a finger lazily along her phone screen as if she could touch Jennie's cheek through the glass. "Are you done with your schedule for the day?"
"Mhm. Just finished recording. My brain is fried. The producer kept making me redo the bridge because it sounded 'too polite.' Apparently, when I sing about breaking hearts, I'm supposed to sound like a menace, not a kindergarten teacher."
