JISOO'S POV

1 new message

Nallalisa

Hey, slr, I forgot to tell you I’ll be coming home late. We’re nowhere near done :/

‘Oh, that’s fine. Just hang in there, yeah? :( ’ is what I reply with as much sympathy a text can offer. I texted Lisa three hours ago to ask if she’d be home for dinner, but she just had the time to respond now. She’s obviously busy and I expected that.

Lisa has been out of the apartment more than she’s been in it for the past two months. The production leg of the biggest movie they have taken under their wing yet has officially begun and most weeks of those two months, she spent someplace else, filming and filming and more filming.

Even when she’s just in their company’s studio, it’s no better. She often comes home so late I’m already asleep, then goes to work again even before I wake up.

It’s insane. I don’t know how she handles it. There are no s given to weekday and weekend distinctions in her line of work, so she hardly gets days off and when she does, she uses them to sleep in and recharge.

1 new message

Nallalisa

I’ll try my best not to hang myself, but no promises!

A soft chuckle is my prompt response, but a deep sigh quickly finds its way through my throat and a sullen smile sweeps my lips. This is pathetic, I think as my head blindly falls to the back of the couch. The ceiling catches my gaze, motionless yet distracted.

I miss her. I really miss her. And it’s not helping whenever she’s being a goofball.

But this is good for her, I guess.

Lisa never asked for space, but it presented itself to her nonetheless. The moment she knew she was going to be busy as hell, she actually reassured me that she won’t be around much because of work; that it won’t be on purpose and it has nothing to do with us. It’s funny how she called me out before I had the chance to overthink things.

Not that she would’ve given me a chance to, because she’d always find time to respond to my messages or call me during her breaks or come home in the few times I can count in one hand to join me for dinner. She’s insanely busy, but she goes out of her way to spend her precious free time (or lack thereof) with me.

But be that as it may, there’s still a huge chunk of her time not spent around me and I think that’s good for her because, I don’t know, she’s moving on? Or maybe she’s already moved on. Closure was what was holding her back and she finally received that.

I mean it’s Lisa. If all we have as a basis is how fast she got over her previous relationships like she’s just recovering from a paper cut, she probably already did.

I don’t know. I literally have no clue where she’s at right now. It doesn’t come up when we talk. I guess we just have more important things to talk about in the few chances we’ve spoken to each other, like how our day went (or week, depending on how long it’s been since the last time we spoke) and who we wanted to kill that particular day and seriously considered worthy to go to jail for (that mostly just involves Lisa and someone in their production team who got under her skin.)

Anyway.

I have no idea. And I can’t bring myself to ask her.

And I gave up trying to read her. She’s impossible. Lisa who had platonic love, Lisa who had romantic love, and Lisa after she confessed treat me all the same. When we said nothing will change, she took it to heart. If I couldn’t read her then, what makes you think I can do it now?

The only way I’ll know for sure that she’s over me is if it comes directly from her— like when she said she is in love with me.

Or was. Is, was, whatever, but at one point or many points in her life, Lisa was in love with me. And god, the thought of that still hits hard like I just stumbled upon the news yesterday, like it’s a fresh discovery.

At random times, like right now, it springs to mind that she confessed and it still catches me off guard and a part of me still has a difficult time processing that it happened. It feels like one crazy, hazy fever dream because it resulted in no drastic repercussions to remind me by. It made no difference. At all.

Okay, no, that last bit isn’t entirely true.

I mean Lisa is still the same, quirks and all, but in a way, she isn’t. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s like although nothing changed with the way things are between us, it’s still different because I’ve become aware of something I wasn’t before and it’s like I’m seeing her in a new light.

Before, Lisa was just my best friend. Now, she is Lisa, my best friend who’s in love with me. Just one detail different, but so big that when it hits me, it’s like an arrow piercing through my stomach and slashing a way for butterflies to infiltrate. And how their wings flutter wild and frenzied is how my heart behaves exactly.

I know how that may sound to you, but I don’t like her like that. I just... you know, after what happened to me and my ex-fiancé, she’s like a breath of fresh air; a reminder that someone is capable of loving me up to that degree.

Set aside the immense guilt, it just feels good to know that someone like her— the most beautiful girl inside and out I’ve ever known— would feel that deeply about me. That in and of itself is just very, very flattering.

So, I always try not to think about it because that’s pretty ty of me, isn’t it? I shouldn’t revel in something that made her suffer. It’s sick.

2 new messages

Nallalisa

Sorry, I couldn’t join you for dinner again. I’ll make it up to you.

I gtg. I miss you, btw.

But when a person like this— always sweet and always thoughtful amongst many other too good to be true qualities she constantly is— could hold so much love for you, wouldn’t you feel the same?

//

1 new message

Nallalisa

Hey...

“Ms. Kim, is everything okay?”

“Sorry, I have to go to the restroom,” I excuse myself immediately, grabbing my phone. My client looks surprised, but he nods.

When Lisa texts me that hey followed by those three ominous dots, it doesn’t matter what I’m in the middle of, I drop whatever it is I’m doing... even if I’m in an important meeting.

‘Hey, you... are you okay?’ I asked just for the sake of asking because I already know she isn’t.

It’s been a week since Lisa last came home. They’re in the third month and nearing the end of filming, so everything has been extra hectic for her lately. I can only imagine the hellhole she’s dwelling in right now.

No :/ my stress level is at its peak and my boss is being an absolute I'm literally going insane :/

Called it.

This isn’t the first time that my best friend is on the verge of a stress-induced mental breakdown, so I’ve also figured out what to do to help cheer her up.

Oh no, that bad??? :/

Wait, are u coming home today?

Yeah, but rly late as usual. why?

Okay, just come home. I’m cooking ur fave Thai food.

For real?!!?!

Omg! I love you!!!

I giggle a little. She’s so easy, sometimes.

Lisa is always hungry when she comes home no matter how late it is or how exhausted she is. Without fail, she always grabs a bite before hitting the sack. I mean I’m asleep so I never see her eat, but I eventually figured it out when there were mornings when I noticed that the leftovers from the night before are gone. Or an empty cup of ramen is recently added to the trash.

Since then, I took the initiative to always order or cook for two when I know she’s coming home and leave her share on the table. It’s kinda like leaving cookies and a glass of milk for Santa on Christmas Eve, except this Santa doesn’t bring gifts, she just eats.

I chuckle at that thought as I unpack the last of the groceries I just went out to buy. My palm lands hard in the middle of my forehead and I won’t be surprised if it leaves a mark when I notice I missed an ingredient.

See, when Lisa is having an extremely tier than normal day, I don’t order take out, I cook one of her favorite food. Today’s one of those days. And the last thing I want to do is disappoint her on top of her having a tough day, so that’s exactly why I couldn’t not cook it even when I was in no mood to go out again... to buy salt. Of all things I could forget.

So, to the supermarket, I go, annoyed, and I get home, still very much so. I roughly throw the pack of salt on the table and glare at it like it’s to blame that I had to walk another half kilometer.

“Out of all the things I could’ve for—“

The rest of my rant dies in my throat as my head jerks to the closed door of the bathroom.

Lisa always texts me if there’s a change of plans. And I didn’t receive any message that she’d be home earlier than she said. So, whoever it is that dropped something in there, I don’t think is her.

The main door was unlocked when I got home, but I was still caught up with having to go out again to actually care. And I only come to my senses that that should’ve been the least of my worries.

“Hello?” I knock, but no one answers. I press my ear against the door and I swear to God I hear movement as faint as it may be. “Who’s there?” My voice shakes entirely but again, no answer.

I’m starting to break into a cold sweat, my heart racing in my chest. I’m alone. And scared. And projected straight into a panic.

I wrap my hand on the knob and turn it, as slowly and as silently as possible. The rational part of my mind ordering me to stop and just call for help or at least grab something I can use to protect myself is easily overshadowed by the mixture of intense panic and fright that spawns a stupidity that pushes me to open the door.

I’m not thinking straight and my brain is so close to having a seizure.

Then, it pretty much does.

And, my heart still races… but for an entirely different reason.

A quarter of a second isn’t long in most context, but in some, it is. A quarter of a second is long enough to take the first place in a race from the rest. A quarter of a second is long enough to be all the extra time you need to successfully defuse a bomb before it blows.

And a quarter of a second is more than long enough for your rational mind to yield… and witness someone completely bare and right in front of your eyes.

Lisa doesn’t know I’m here, because her reflection in the mirror shows that her eyes are closed and airpods are tucked in her ears which explains why she couldn’t hear me. She doesn’t know, so I can just close the door and go and pretend this never happened, and yet I find myself doing exactly the opposite of that.

I want to say this isn’t a big deal since I’ve seen her before, but Lisa changing her clothes in front of me never had any effect on me. I mean I notice how incredibly y she is, but I never linger on it. I just notice. Any sane person would.

But her body dancing and swaying in ways to match what I can assume is a slow, sensual melody playing in her ears takes the ‘y’ on a whole other level. A level where I stay and I stare and I stand still like Medusa has just caught my eyes and stoned me in place, stunned and defenseless.

She’s lost in the rhythm and I’m lost with the way she... just is right now. The entirety of her at this moment— the way the line of her neck looks impossibly long and swan-like with her head tilted up; the way her collarbone protrudes even more above her chest as her fingers run through her hair; the way her hips slowly and calculatedly move side to side, and side to side, and side to side...

Like a swinging watch that renders me into a trance-like state, hypnotized and transfixed and powerless over my own body.

When it stops, I feel faint... Maybe it’s the lack of oxygen for holding my breath in for too long or maybe it’s my heart pumping way too much blood way too fast in my veins or maybe it’s the scorching heat blazing in every part of my body or maybe—

“Maybe after you’re done staring at my bum, you can tell me why the hell you are staring at my bum.”

I jump in place as my head jerks up. Lisa is looking at me through the mirror. Her eyes aren’t closed anymore. They’re watching me watching her. And though I didn’t think it was possible, I know I’m blushing even more than I was a second before.

How she doesn’t scramble to cover herself up tells how confident and comfortable she is in this very situation and I wish I can even be just half of that. But she wasn’t the one caught ogling like a creep, I was.

“I just—” I squeak a sound I didn’t know I was capable of. And I don’t miss the slightly amused smirk that surfaces on Lisa’s face at that before it’s gone.

“Relax, I’m kidding,” Lisa laughs, flapping a dismissive hand. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I’m hot, I’d stare at myself too.”

I’m relieved she said that because I'm at a loss for why I did what I did and why I feel the way I feel, but that one’s plausible and acceptable, so I’ll take it.

It doesn’t make me feel any less embarrassed, though.

Lisa grabs her towel and wraps it around herself and I feel my throat loosen. But when she turns to look me directly in the eyes and throws a playful wink my way, it tightens again. Good lord, I have to get out of here.

“Well