What’s friendship about? Some would say it’s an alternative word to describe someone who you can share everything with, but sometimes, going through all the memories you might’ve had, there are probably far more marvellous experiences you’ve had with strangers than with a best friend, all spontaneous and adventurous. Even your deepest secrets, you’d feel more comfortable sharing with a faceless voice in the bathroom of a party than a person who’s close to you. After all, friendships start randomly, when you least expect them. Others would say it’s about loyalty, but don’t we have dogs for that, because I sure as hell have my Dalgom and I wouldn’t trade it for no single human. But maybe, just maybe, it’s all about the little things, like how friends make memes with your pictures, how you all have inside jokes, how you feel at ease whenever they’re around, how it’s simple for you to be you and you know that at the end of the day, they’ll shrug off and accept even the worst traits you have. Or they’ll choose to complain about them. Publically. Like me and Jennie’s friends do. How delightful. So, to step away from all that sappy entrance which Jennie wrote, (not to be dramatic, but when did my girlfriend get so sensitive?! A mystery.) do you ever have that feeling that your friends secretly hate you? Well, I know for a fact that our friends certainly do and honestly, we hate them right back, probably even more than they hate us. That’s exactly why we’re a bit extra on making their life miserable. We weren’t doing it on purpose, not until we decided to skim through Lisa’s blog to find dirt on Rosé and ended up finding a lot of complaints about Jensoo. And I thought I was the one struggling. So, let’s get this over with. The struggles of – a little bit of this – and a little bit of that – (Where a little bit of this is Lisa and a little bit lot of that is Rosé) No.1: A room is not a safe space if Jennie and I are there. Park Chaeyoung is the most annoying person ever. She wakes up late and sleeps late and during the time she’s awake, she’s either eating or complaining about being bored to death. Excuse me for not being a great source of entertainment, but it’s kind of hard to be a ball of joyful sunshine after losing numerous bets to her. I swear to God the girl must’ve been a professional gambler on her previous life, or maybe boys have their sneaky ways of winning every single game they play. So by the fifth win, she’ll look back at me bored, with a cute pout and squirrel cheeks (which are puffy because she’s eating the mangos she won during our third or second game). I’ll be broke and in debt by the time I’m 30, you can all pity me. “You know,” she’ll say all nicely, as if she hasn’t been -slapping my pride for the past hours, “we should visit Jisoo and Jennie.” I obviously agree. Anything that would take keep the little devil with an angelic smile busy for a while, but here’s the thing, being around the Kim fam is not certainly a joy either. “Call them,” Rosie says. “We’re literally at Jisoo’s front door,” I reply. “Can’t we just knock?” “Ew, you never know what they’re doing, so excuse me, but I’d like to keep the mangos inside my tummy,” she pouts again and I come to agree too quickly with her statement, already having flashbacks from our trip when they ing forgot to turn off the dome light, Jesus save me. So we call them, Jennie to be precise, and you know what she says?! “I’m not over at Jisoo’s.” As if we couldn’t see her damn Gucci shoes on the porch, to which she replies: “I mean I am, but we were about to come over to you guys. Aw, guess you beat us to that.” I sigh deeply and ask for her to open the door, to which she replies, in a whisper, a loud whisper, which I and Rosie could clearly hear: “Babe, put on a shirt, the idiots are outside.” Edit: Ugh, I only let Jisoo make Chaelisa happen so they could spend time on their own and leave us alone, but I guess it doesn’t work like that. All they do is ruin perfect moments, complain about you and turn your girlfriend into a boy. Edit: I’m not a boy, I’m just an enthusiast of your Gucci clothes and I love it when you model them for me. Edit: Shut up before I make you an enthusiast of my Gucci belt. No.2: You can skip reading this struggle. (Don’t you dare! This is my favourite struggle.) There are two creatures I’m left to take care of whenever Rosie isn’t around. One is her cute little goldfish which she absolutely adores. In extreme levels. She will literally leave me a three pages long letter of instructions on how to take care of that tiny thing, which I like to call Donald Trump for the following reasons: It’s orange. I hate it. It has a special spot in Rosie’s heart which it doesn’t deserve just like Trump doesn’t deserve being a president. It’s orange and useless. Why does it always have to be about that damn goldfish and where is the love I rightfully deserve?! Let’s hope Rosie won’t read this section of the blog, or I’ll have to say goodbye to her warm hugs and nice . Secondly, during those times when Rosie is spending ‘special time’ with Jisoo, I’m left