A Voice in Time (Blackpink) [on hold/to be rewritten]

2| trouble in paradise

"Something on your mind, Lisa-ya?"

The youngest started from her position in shock—she had been focused on her camera as she checked the pictures she had taken. She shot her unnie a quick smile and gave a thumbs up. "All good, just thinking about lunch. I'm starving."

"Me too," Jisoo laughed, "look at poor manager oppa, he can barely fold that umbrella."

They watched the man struggle some more until some other staff joined him. Jisoo leaned back in her avocado boat. It was the perfect summer day on their exotic trip to the Hawaiian Islands and after all the filming, they were given the freedom to lounge about and do as they please. Jisoo was feeling sleepy due to the balmy afternoon. She stuck her tongue out and licked her lips, enjoying the salty tang she swiped up.

"Chae wasn't feeling well?" Jisoo asked, idly trailing her hand in the water. But despite her relaxed tone, she was watching the maknae closely.

Sure enough, as what happened recently whenever Chaeyoung was mentioned, Lisa flinched.

"Oh she's good, just didn't want to join us. I think she's a little tired...yeah."

"Hmm, like Jendeukie then," Jisoo mused and tipped her head back, shielding her face from the sun's rays. 

"Yeah..."

Sadness settled upon Jisoo—Lisa thought she was doing a great job of hiding but she was so terribly wrong—Jisoo could read any of the members like an open book.

But it wasn't a skill she was very proud for having honed, because it was useless to know your little sisters were hurting without being able to help in return, or even support them and cry with them. 

If anything, Jisoo considered her sharpened intuition a curse—forced to watch on, helpless, as her members gradually and inexorably drifted away like an untethered boat in a stormy sea, to be swallowed up sooner or later and be lost forever in the murky darkness.

She was holding the threads, being tugged in every direction until the fragile lines drew taut in her fist.

And Jisoo, she was holding on for dear life—begging, pleading, struggling to keep them all from being lost.

What had happened to their unity, their mutual strength? And what did it mean for their collective future?

Theirs (Jisoo had presumed) was a bond that each member could refer to when feeling lost and sad, from which they could draw individual strength, love and support. 

An oasis in a desert, a paradise of serenity and safety, protecting them from the cruelty of the world.

But was it all an illusion then? Was it something that only she had presumed was true?

Jennie had been the first to succumb—always so brave and strong for all these years, weathering through the barrage of hate that came thick and fast and unyielding.

Yet even the brave and strong have their limits. Jennie was never meant to bear such a burden—the soft-spoken girl's only crime had been making music and singing alongside her members. 

But Jennie's dream came at a far higher price than anybody could have anticipated.

People at large seemed perpetually displeased and unappreciative of her efforts, no matter what Jennie did. They tore her down like baying dogs set upon a wounded animal, tearing her to shreds.

Then when she was well and truly battered and mauled, they made sure she stayed down by digging a pit and flinging her in, burying her alive.

Jennie never once attempted to scream for help. She gritted her teeth, taking in wave after wave of toxicity all by herself.