SEND A SYMBOL FOR A CORRESPONDING PROMPT/STARTER.

Tender is the night For a broken heart Who will dry your eyes When it falls apart?

27th september, tuesday.

jetlag still haunts her with only a few days since arriving back in korea, skipping from LA to NYC left its own mark, and the restless nights lead here ; too tired to be swallowed alive by stress, too tired to run from photo after photo which may make way from her icloud.

life had been eventful, perhaps too much. an impromptu meeting at 5-something am in desperation for help at securing her devices. her manager had recommended the person in question, and that night had been long and hectic. yet in the midst of the mess jennie had considered it almost therapeutic to have her sins exposed to someone, it was the closest to honesty that the situation had offered. and somehow -- closure. this is happening, whether she wants it to or not. and all she can do is cope, be fluid, embrace the speckles of light and the weight of darkness. unsure of what to expect out of their meeting she had kept the man company until early hours, when the sun would make its way over the cityscape of seoul. he had been concentrated, fingers swift over the keyboard, explained what jennie couldn't fully grasp, and once voicing out positivity she had relaxed for the first time since the news broke. and thus? fallen asleep on his sofa. it had ironically turned into the safest spot in seoul.

the moon is at its prettiest in the dark, jennie thinks while getting dressed up in a white mini-dress. one could consider it innocent looking, if not for the fact that it barely offers coverage. ( she thanks yoga and boxing and running for being able to pull it off ) but her styling team positively chimes that this ! this is the dress which will soften her appearance after all the ongoing rumors! it takes more than a dress for that, but her friends abroad offer assurance over the phone-- telling her that this is all like a big tv show, her whole life. and now is the time to play the part.

with how the past days had looked, jennie feels like a fraud. ( perhaps that is why she only makes it through half the event before spilling coffee on the dress .. though some may blame her anxiety, the fear of people and what they think of her .. and changes back into baggy black jeans instead.. )

delicate shoulders are exposed, so she looks as tiny as she is, harmless, dainty. fans still greet her with excitement and jennie once again wonders whether she deserves their patience or faith, hell -- she doesn't even have any faith in herself. only knows that she is in this labyrinth of fame until it is over, however the end may reach her.

a long week.

jennie rarely lies, unless it causes less concern for those in her surroundings.

hence she lies to her managers when they drive her to the hospital, it’s an accident — tripped on the treadmill again. melodic warmth in her voice but no smile to match it, because the slightest movement of facial muscles causes skin to tug over the open wound and .. it hurts, even if she audibly won’t admit it. 

you’ve been through worse, she coaxes herself into thinking. perhaps the issue is that she got nowhere to reach for comfort, when surroundings are filled with guesses and misconceptions, and she has no patience for explaining the long story of why, or how. likewise, jennie prefers accepting her mistakes as her own, and dislikes not being able to show her best side to those important in her life. acting, at its finest.

it’s tuesday, which also becomes the last time she sees him. until this moment it had merely been subtle bruises on an arm, from conversations that had gotten too direct for his personal tastes. (how come your friend taka says that you’re.. married..? why don’t you find me pretty anymore?) jennie asking too many questions, wanting the clarity, reassurance — anything. things once a given between them, reasons his initial lays permanently inked on her skin - a vast difference from the promises not kept and the reality he showed her.

it backfires, as always. he says he is scared, damaged, lust isn’t important, it’s only her for him, and she believes it. 

until this time.

because jennie no longer loves this man.

———— under the uncomfortably florescent hospital lights alison peers over towards jennie, unamused with the sight, perhaps wondering if the idol did this to herself. it wouldn’t be entirely faulty of a guess, there are certain things one shouldn’t entertain, not even in the name of love. but jennie does.

contrary to popular belief it isn’t an act of harming herself, that can be done without painting it under the illusion of something as inspiring as love.

‘i called your mom.’ 

silence. jennie hasn’t managed to appease her family yet as the aftermath of her scandalous mishaps still hang over her head. now living in her own apartment instead of with them she has simply been unable to find reasons to see them, excuses of tours and being busy helping with just that. so her mother, hearing of this?

pitiful, and hard to swallow. not only because of pride. it reminds of that time in 2017 when jennie dated a very famous man, cunning and manipulative, and the reason she knows her family would stand by a reputable man rather than their daughter. it stings — but maybe not as much as her cheek and eye-area.

‘that was unnecessary..?’ she musters after a moment, gazes no longer meeting because jennie fidgets with her own fingertips as if it would be the most fascinating thing in the world. 

‘she’s going with us to malaysia.’ 

head raised now, an unspoken why? ‘it’s not like i’m going to kill myself.’ slips with a sigh of defeat, possibly annoyance. neither of her parents came to their seoul concerts for what could be the girl-group’s final tour, she would’ve been happy with them being there - not with this.

————

about a day to go until another concert, she should have thought of an excuse for when people sees her in public again but the night is spent awake out of concern for jiho. she can’t put a finger on it, yet somehow jennie feels at fault and saddened by that scenario ; still there is nothing in her might that can fix it, unless he lets her. ironically that helplessness drowns out the own struggles.

on the way to the airport it hits her that she cannot hide this from her surroundings anymore. but she is going to try.

it wouldn’t be the first time she fell on a treadmill.

but preferably the last.

jenrubyjane 03.03 / 16:13kst blinks 🤍 i’m writing this post just in case you guys might get surprised. while taking this small break i’ve been looking after my health, eaten well and slept but while i was exercising, i took a wrong step and fell down and got a small injury on my face 🥺 i hoped it’d heal quickly so that you wouldn’t worry, but it’s still in the process of recovering so i think i’m going to have a band-aid on my face for a while. even if i look dumb, please understand ☺️ i want to put on a good show for everyone and i’m sorry. promise i’ll get better soon so don’t worry, see you soon.

“I don’t want to be a piece of art. Nobody touches artwork. They just look from afar and move on.”

— Azra.T  (via 5000letters)

25th may, 2022. 22:11.

it’s cloudy. the summer-air outside hot and stuffy, but inside the ventilated apartment she covers up in a cropped cardigan for extra warmth. air always clean, easy to breathe, dogs playing with each other and it’s like she is 14 again.

if ignoring how it has been a month since her last dinner at home, and how it hadn’t precisely gone well. that time over a hair color and the rumors carried home after coachella. now? she’s called into the living room by her father, somehow a similarity with how she got called into the office at the company building. but worse.

….exactly like being 14 again.

Keep reading

19th september, monday.

she doesn't know it yet -- but this is not going to be her week. monday. an iffy day in general according to popular opinion. perhaps not now, when far from the blues and closer to warmth that feels like summer ; LA. that reasoning lasts for a while ... only a while.

right before recording a performance for a tv segment she is nudged aside by the manager. eyes flickering up to catch sight of his face - then and there, without a word, jennie recognizes this is bad.

what's wrong..? her words go by ignored, a refusal for any sort of explanation or even response until they reach the group's makeup room which has been abandoned by the others.

i haven't done anything, i promise--

interrupted.

they have all your photos.

...all?

disbelief. perhaps she is playing dumb, or simply unable to imagine how fucking bad it is.

the way in which his hand leaves her shoulder is anything but reassuring, yet she stares up at him -- as if she cannot risk blinking in fear of what might come next. ( but no way she could hear wrong on this one ) he is only 4 years older than her, a close friend after the many travels and issues dealt with together. thus, the carefulness in the moment is somehow scaring her more than occasionally being lectured, and he is so visibly uncomfortable, more than jennie ; understandable as her gaze remains locked on him and ........

jennie. they're leaking your nudes..

while he still avoids meeting her eyes there is something so sad in how his voice is filled with nothing but defeat once uttering those words out loud. her name itself spoken almost like an apology. in that second jennie fails to comprehend this is about her, and it feels easier to focus on the concern for her own manager rather than grasp the reality.

reality hits hard when alone a few hours later.

somewhere between then and getting the news, jennie had slept, cried, deleted her private social media accounts, changed passwords. had ignored her mother's phone calls, all five of them. alongside the spam of concerned texts. ( the vision of her father never talking to her again after this got her too ashamed to. )

jennie is mourning the death of the image had -- knowing it will never be the same now, the internet never forgets. those pictures meant only for the love of her life, and no one else. but she cannot reach out to him now, and that is where the stress sets in. how do you rely on anyone now that your mistakes are for the whole world to see? she misses him. wouldn't he have told her that they could run away, find a spot where no one recognizes them? bring her wine, or food? walk through empty streets with his arm pressed against hers on nights when sleep was scared off by anxiety?

it was an easier time when relying on him, but that was then. nothing lasts forever - life so harshly teaches her time and time again.

in the unholy hours of the night jennie leaves the rented LA villa. hints of smeared mascara that has been covered up by makeup, phone on do not disturb. she plans to get in trouble, just to feel something else.

“I just want one person to fight for me. To make me feel like I’m worth never letting go. I need someone to fight for me so selflessly and passionately; so much so, I can feel it through the universe. I want someone to hold on tight to me, because they know I’m worth it, the way I know I’m worth it.”

— Treka L. House

6th october, thursday.

the same hotel ever since returning from usa, it doesn't feel like home.

on second thought, that makes sense. she doesn't have a home anymore. family stern about the issues having to be sorted out before jennie earns another shot at deserving the title as their daughter. and even then it would merely offer a chance of them considering letting her move back in. but is it home? welcoming? no, not anymore. the other home no longer exists either, he is long gone and that is something she feels almost daily. you don't belong anywhere, jennie.

the days have been long and busy, rehearsals for the upcoming tour and she is glad, no one asks there, all concerns drowned out inbetween loud music, focus, and patterns through steps and motion. practice for selling a dream, that they are strong and perfect. worthy of being idols. her manager asks if she wants to come over for dinner late one evening, it's sincere, easily noted in his cautiousness when asking. jennie faces him with tired eyes, the smile polite but with no life in it.

'no, i'm on a diet, remember?'

that earns a dishonest chuckle from him before he merely nods once, repeating the diet part for himself. knows it's bullshit. yet her excuse looks too valid for him to argue with it, she looks drained. much like the times when dieting too hard (or when her heart has been broken, or rumors have been too much, or times when guilt spreads her happiness thin) but what is he to say? she is an adult.

the remainder of the ride passes in silence. by her favourite hotel ( the one with the charming indoor pool that you can see the moon from ! ) jennie lingers with a hand on the door of the car, for an instance he wonders if the barely-heard words only exist in his imagination, but her eyes are a bit sad. no, actually sad. so he knows he heard it --

'.. but thank you.'

the door is shut before any questions can be asked. sometimes he worries that jennie is going to do more than just kill the old parts of herself. they say women with nothing to lose aren't scared of ruin. he has a feeling it will become a fulltime job if she takes the approach her LA friends do, a hedonistic party girl will have a hard time in the eyes of the korean industry.