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.