As the darkness of the night strikes at the time of eleven. When everyone succumbs, drifting to unconsciousness, her eyes fully awake, her mind in chaos as she looks at the glistening heaven that never fails to make her smile. She inhales, the length of the cigarette she keeps in-between her fingers decreases. And alas, opens as smoke escapes her system.

She s up.

In her decision. In her dreams. In her self. In her life.

And she feels like the sun does not shine for her anymore.

Good thing the moon is still there.

The moon that sees the real her. Behind the smiling girl that greets everyone a lovely “Good Morning” 7 am on dot, the moon sees the girl takes off her clothes and the colors on her face, the mask coming undone as well. There the moon watches as the girl shrinks into her bed, curling like the bed is not big for her.

The moon notices every little things she does during the night.

Nobody knows her like the moon.

The girl inhales once more. The stick coming at its end as she flickers it away, falling at the 25th floor. She puffs out the last smoke, the last calmness she intakes that night. There it swirls, at the cold night of January breeze, in front of her.

The smoke reminds her of her willingness to live. It comes out too strong at the beginning. And then it simmers down, until it spreads out and be gone.

And now Jennie thinks being an adult is just a matter of how long until she dies.

She just had her 23rd birthday. Though she never celebrates, not anymore. She even almost forgot about it not until her mother texts her greetings.

Her mother, the only light she has. The only chance she got. The only push she needs to go forward.

But at some times like this, when she’s at her apartment’s balcony, on an empty hours of night, alone, she just wants everything to be done.

And at the times like this, she needs someone to distract her. Someone with a long blonde locks that flows gracefully past down her chest. Someone with eyes that’s so dark, even a minimal light will shimmer into the deepest orb that is.

Someone that don’t just exist.

Someone that lives.

A flower that she can’t pluck on the ground. Because it belongs there. No matter how much she needs it.

Jennie needs her.

Jennie needs Rosé.

-x-

“If I ask you where do you want to go, would I get an answer?”

A text she got from her.

And yet Jennie feels herself out of the comfort of her bed. She hurriedly makes herself presentable, starting from taking a bath, putting on a light make-up, and digging for a decent outfit for the day.

She checks the full-body mirror once more before coming out of her apartment.

The sun painfully strikes her skin as soon as she paces away from the door. She’s not a user of an umbrella for she knows she’s stronger than any rays of star. Jennie walks and does not mind everything because where she’s going is the place that she dreams to be everyday.

The local bookstore. The aesthetically pleasing atmosphere every millennials seek for. The air Rosé breathes for. The home Jennie wants for.

A sweet chime and Rosé’s smile greets her as she opens the door.

And for the first time of the week, she feels herself smiling too.

-x-

Rosé is an eye-candy.

A contrast to a sore-eye Jennie is.

Rosé is pink. Feminine. Delicate. Soft.

Jennie is black. Mysterious. Dark. Bad.

But everyone desires something they don’t have.

She wants what she has. And she wants it all. Even the twinkling of her eyes as she get excited over small things. And also the way the girl looks at everyone as she listens attentively to whatever nonsense everyone says.

She wants it all to herself.

She wants Rosé all to herself.

And she feels like the girl wants her too.

But people are made to be complicated. There will always be “what ifs”. There will always be a doubt. Because if there is none, then you’re not being serious at all. And Jennie, she’s dead serious to Rosé.

Humans are created with a mind that can think, decide, and imagine. The only creature that has a language, scientifically proven. And yet here are they, five feet apart, with tables, shelves, and a counter that separates their hands.

But nothing can come between their souls.

Her eyes shifts to hers as her eyes goes up to meet hers.

And there it is, the spark that Jennie is so hungry for.

She’s madly in love.

Love.

Yes, she’s sure of it.

This is what love looks like.

Meaningful messages, heavy gazes, dreamy smiles, soft touches, nervousness, and the butterflies on her stomach.

She feels it all because of her.

And she wishes among the stars last night that Rosé feels the same way too.

-x-

“The stars. Are you willing to get me there?”

She replies.

Heart beats wildly as she presses send.

She forgets how she had her hand on Rosé’s phone number but ever since that happened, she’s been using her phone way too often.

Her phone’s use is basically just for texting her.

They never get to the “calling each other in the middle of the night” stage.

Because just the mere thought of it makes Jennie weak.

That’s like the closest thing she’ll ever get to her dreams.

And Jennie is not yet ready.

Because what will she do next?

Her mind then focuses on the phone in her hand. The messages they had displays on the technology mankind developed and devised.

Jennie is different when texting her. Jennie is different when talking to her. And that’s one thing she hates about herself.

She just can’t be true to anyone. She always puts a damn mask everytime she goes outside.

Even to her.

So she’s scared, that maybe Rosé won’t look at her anymore, because that girl loves everything that is genuine by heart. And that’s the exact opposite of Jennie.

But she’s trying. At least.

Through the messages she’s been sending. There are the gaps of her true self. The complicated girl that wants to be saved and at the same time doesn’t want anyone to come her way.

And she can’t help but to love Rosé more.

Because the girl never fails to message her back.

“Aren’t you made of stars yourself?”

-x-

“Why do we like to complicate things?”, Rosé asks her out of the blue.

This is one of the rare times when Jennie and Rosé are seated on one table. Just a stretch of an arm and the girl is already on her arms. The girl she’s been musing on since the dark swallowed her whole. The girl that holds the torch that can diminish the negativity inside of her.

And yet Jennie still fears.

She cowers as Rosé looks at her for answers.

Jennie unconsciously building a wall between them.

She hates herself more when she sees at the corner of her eyes how Rosé leans back, a frown sketches on her face.

“I do get tired too”, the last words she speaks before she stands up and leaves, back facing Jennie.

“”

She curses at herself.

-x-

“How have you been?”

And Jennie presses the first message she ever initiated.

Three weeks have passed after that eventful afternoon. That moment when Rosé blatantly tells her she’s tired of all the bulls she’s been digging up to herself.

But Jennie is the bull herself.

She’s too deep into the dark now that Rosé never sends her any single message after that.

And here she is again, at the balcony, freezing herself to death, with a cigarette in and the moon that accompanies her through the night.

She looks up at the never-ending sky. Black, almost like she’s staring to nothing, if not only for the glistering stars above that she’ll notice that its the sky she’s been staring at.

“I love her”, she blurts out.

“She’s the most precious living thing I’ve ever encountered”

“She has the universe in her mind. I saw the galaxy in her eyes. And everyone knows I’m a er for that”

“She’s been tolerating me and my ing personality for these past months and I’m thankful of that”

She pauses, and realizes she’s been talking to the sky. She chuckles to herself . She must be going crazy. But it feels so right. She feels how the heaviness inside her heart decreases. So she continues.

She talks about her.

“But everyone has their limits. And I think she’d hit hers. And now I don’t know what to do”

She feels a lone tear flows down to her cheek. And then another drop comes, and another, until she’s gasping for air as she sobs violently at the dark.

“, I love her so much”, she shakily says once more.

“But I’m too messed up for her”

-x-

“I told the stars about you”

Jennie sends her a message.

She never got a reply on her last text. To not give herself an early heartbreak, she assumes the girl forgets about replying.

But she’ll be lying to herself if she says she never had the thought of Rosé giving up on her.

She pushes those thoughts away.

Jennie keeps herself busy. With the work her college life gives her, she drowns herself with paper works and incoming deadlines. And with the nearing Valentines, her heart aches a little bit more that it should.

And comes a night with no ring on her phone. No message from the person that she’s expecting to understand her more than everyone does. Jennie looks at the text she last sent before coming to the balcony, with a cigarette at hand.

“I told them how much I love you”