A/N: IMPORTANT!! This chapter contains physical/emotional traumatic experiences and drug use so please skip to avoid any triggers. 

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Lisa heard the door close and the car drive away. The smile Roseanne left on her lips remained for a few more breaths before tears of sadness resumed their falling from the corners of her eyes to the floor.

She gently stroked the back of her right hand where three thin scars, long and short spread, the longest from the first knuckle of her thumb down to the crease of her wrist, the other two parallel against each other, stretching diagonally from below the rightmost base knuckle to the center. Her eyes shifted toward her middle and ring fingers where scars stretched across the first and second joints.

The scars were not invisible but almost unnoticeable, as if somebody painted them almost the same shade as her skin. But now that she remembered the traumatic episode, they suddenly became more visible she could even feel the cold metal plate and screws inside.

When she asked Jisoo about what happened to her hand several months ago, her black-haired friend said she slipped while in the studio and leaned her hand to catch herself in an awkward way. Lisa chuckled at the memory now. She should have known Jisoo made that up and was not being herself because the Jisoo she knew would have come up with something very stupid, and creative, for cover. And that was something so ordinary for one.

"Jisoo, you were very supportive when I asked you to get Chaeyoung as my new muse despite..." Lisa looked at Jisoo with a small smile.

Jisoo chortled. "I would say sorry because it may have triggered this, but I damn wanted you to reunite with your real muse, and look where you are now. But this guy?" She pointed at Top with an annoyed face. "Gave me a hard time when I told him. Good thing he was in New York!"

"That's the reason I was away," Top said. "Jennie's locked up in New York and can't go back here anymore. I made a deal with her boss."

Lisa shoved her bangs away from her forehead as she expelled a cool breath. "Tell me what happened next."

Top's eyes drooped. "While you were making out, I had to go back downstairs. I didn't know how it led to things being thrown and you bawling because you never got to talk about that after it happened but," he paused to light another cigarette before speaking with quieter intensity, "I came upstairs and saw Jennie strangling you."

Hearing that made Lisa touch her neck as if tracing the mark where Jennie's hands were. Some lump with uneven edges got stuck in her throat and she could not swallow it hard enough to breathe. It was happening all over, and her body was shutting down from the chest and up.

The throbbing on the side of her head was getting more severe as more of the incident was getting revealed. There was the unsweetened peril on her tongue, and all the whiskey she consumed was going back up, undigested by the acetic paranoia in her gut.

The suffocation almost killed her then. But hearing the dark incident in the present deprived her of air just the same. She gasped, gripping her chest as she consumed too much of the cold wind that could not seem to reach her lungs.

Her brain was losing oxygen.

Her heart stopped beating.

Her blood stilled from flowing.

Just as Top refilled Lisa's glass with water quickly, Jisoo moved beside Lisa and held her shoulders firmly. "Breathe, Lisa. Drink this!"

But Lisa coughed the water. From her trembling hand slipped the glass, falling on her lap, its content drenching her pants.

"Lisa!" Top was on his feet, calling out in panic.

Jisoo kept hold of Lisa, drawing the latter's head close to her chest.

Despite being aware that she was on the porch of her studio with Top and Jisoo, Lisa's mind and body were slipping away, experiencing the incident again like the curtain had been drawn open for the second act.

Unblinking, Lisa stared at the exposed ductwork ceiling, watching the incident play on its jaggedness.

In her insistence that Lisa was lying about drawing the other blonde supermodel, Jennie pushed Lisa onto the bed and started kissing her. The talking was stopped, and she was desperately owning Lisa with each hard kiss, but there was something else running through her mind with the way she kept creasing her eyebrows.

Rosie. Rosie. Rosie again.

Lisa ended the kiss and held Jennie on the shoulders. "Stop this now."

"Am I losing you?" Jennie's voice was breaking.

"I need to finish packing." Lisa sat up.

Jennie was not done with the conversation, so she held Lisa by the wrist. "She's not worth your time and heart. She's a girl who destroys—things—beautiful things, friendships, her own life—She won't appreciate you as much as I—"

"Jennie! I'm not even thinking about her right now. I don't even know her name."

"Then why did you draw her?"

Lisa pulled her wrist from Jennie's grip and stood up. "I don't know."

"You can paint me again!" Jennie crawled to the foot of the bed where Lisa was crouched, fixing the clothes she stuffed in the luggage.

The next thing she knew, Jennie was yelling mean things to her and her art. Calling her names. Accusing her of using the supermodel to be a pretentious avant-garde.

It was her fault. She drove Jennie over to the edge.

Why did she give Jennie hope?

Had she led her on?

But to which place?

Maybe she was never in love with Jennie. It was only the idea of having a muse that piqued her interest. Jennie's smile was pretty. Jennie was pretty. But everything else inside the woman was difficult for Lisa to read. Emotionally, she could not connect with her.

This was her fault. She did Jennie badly. Terribly bad. How could she deceive someone with her art? Jennie was right—

"You're the only great thing that's ever happened to me, Lisa. The only thing that's not handed down or given to me by anyone else." Jennie clung to her shirt, eyes pleading. "You said you love me. But was that a lie too?"

There was a fraught silence that fell between them. But it did not last. Suddenly, there was the sound of things breaking. The lamp was unplugged and thrown on the floor. Portfolios flying. Mirror crashing. And a lot of ringing sounds that scared the moon she swore it hid behind the thickest cloud to be saved.

Jennie was hitting her chest angrily. Pushing and pulling her close for a hug. There was shoving of her shoulders. Firing questions. Repeating how selfish Lisa was. Begging her not to let go. She yelled at Jennie to stop.

Then she was pushed onto the bed harshly. Jennie's hands were around her neck. There were still words coming out of the supermodel's mouth—

Lisa could not bring herself to see the details. She covered her eyes while she wailed, curling to her side. Top knocked, calling out to her. Telling her of Roseanne's bento. Just a minute...

Then Top was there with his panic-stricken face. He tried to pull Jennie but suddenly Jennie had something in her hands that was not there before. Was it a gun?! Or no, there was something else? What—Where did that come from? That could not be—

Something clicked.

Was the safety catch unlocked?

Jennie could fire the gun point-blank at her.

Lisa's vision of the past was getting blurry again. Maybe she was not yet ready to remember that part. She willed something deep within her to skip it—to put a stop to the flashback.

She heard Top telling her to hit Jennie—what? Why? Jennie then pointed the gun at Top?!

Seconds between Jennie aiming to hit Top and Top readying himself to attack with a bottle of alcohol, Lisa was pulled in between them. The next thing she knew, her bones cracked, and her hand was bleeding from the shards.

"Eat it before it gets cold. I'll be outside," Top said behind the door.

There were details that were becoming vivid, and Lisa was almost paralyzed in Jisoo's arms. Leaning on Jisoo's leg to straighten up on her seat, she covered her mouth with her hand. A great tremor overtook her as she let out a fatigued croak, "I—I remember some parts of it now... My hand..."

Top gave Lisa a piercing look. "I was saving you and she used your hand to cover herself. I'm sorry that was..."

Lisa looked at her right hand as if the shards were still stuck there. All the wounds were gone but the scars ran deeper and more visible now. "Why... why were you going to hit her with that?"

"It was an instinct reaction—"

"Jesus. Fuck that!" Lisa was on her feet, walking back and forth with her hands at the back of her head. "Fuck you, Top!"

Jisoo winced at hearing Lisa curse; she was unable to help mend with words that completely left her. Both Top and her knew it would be a lot for Lisa and they should try to give her time to take it all in. Not even mention the gun.

Top started, "Hey—"

"Stop. I don't want to hear anything anymore. I remember too much now and I..." Lisa was shaking her head. Looking at her right hand now, she was feeling grief. Her chest was so painful that she wondered if that was how Chaeyoung felt when her heart was failing.

Chaeyoung.

The thought of Chaeyoung hurt Lisa's heart in a new way. This meant the blonde had always caught her eye and was supposed to have been her muse right at the start. It was to smile for. But at the same time, Jennie seemed to detest Chaeyoung in a way that unsettled Lisa's trust that her girlfriend could handle that truth.

"Do me a favor, please?"

Top and Jisoo lifted their faces.

"Please don't tell Chaeyoung who my previous muse was. I don't think it's important anymore. A—and this is still hard for me to process. I'm not sure how she'll take it." Lisa let out a weighty breath. "But I will tell her everything when I'm ready. Same with Bam."

The two agreed.

That night, Lisa slept crying and shaking. Jisoo scooched beside her on the sofa bed and hugged her to sleep. Top lay there beside them on a mat, unable to get sleep as he kept watch of Lisa.

***

Aboard the plane to Ulsan, Roseanne stared out the window. She loved flying early at the break of dawn. It was flying at the same time as the sun began rising, getting close to its light before it reached the earth below. There was something calming about it that the air of faith replaced the hopelessness of the night before. The sea of clouds lulled her back to Saturday night after finding out about Lisa's muse before her.

She had been delaying going home. She did not want to spend the rest of the day alone, waiting for sleep to arrive and be accompanied by her thoughts and feelings for she had no idea where to put her hands when sad if Lisa would not be there.

And Lisa was the reason she was hurting.

After her schedule that day, she volunteered to help Hyeri with some paperwork—some kind of monthly report—only to get a scolding that she was only causing a delay. And that she was a supermodel for a reason. Nope, paperwork with numbers and business reports? Not exactly her expertise. When Hyeri asked why she was not calling her girlfriend, she blurted out that Lisa was busy thinking of her muse in the past.

That made Hyeri stop working for a second to ask if Roseanne wanted to talk about it when the supermodel stood to leave upon receiving a text from Irene.

She went to hang out at Irene's late-night schedule—a live, virtual appearance at a Prada campaign launch. She sat there in the studio, legs folded up on the director's chair with Irene's name embroidered on it. Whenever her thoughts and feelings would catch her staring at nothing, she would scroll through social media to distract herself.

"Spill it. What's all this lovers' quarrel about?" Irene was done for the day, and she sat on the other director's chair while a stylist assistant helped her remove the accessories she was wearing.

Roseanne was stunned at Irene's observation.

"What? You can admit that you're the clingy one."

"I'm not!"

Irene giggled. "Yeah, Lisa doesn't seem to be the type to tolerate clingy girlfriends."

"She's the type to think about exes."

Irene's jaw dropped. "Oh, it's the jealous Roseanne Park once again. Is that part of her training program so you can learn punching well?"

Roseanne chuckled at Irene's joke. "You're ridiculously obsessed with that. Do you really want to take classes? Because I'll pay for it just so you'll shut up about what Lisa did." That topic brought Lisa back to her mind and how her bruised cheekbone had lightened up already and how she kissed it that morning like her own child got a gold medal or something. "But she isn't exactly good at it."

Glancing at Roseanne, Irene tied up her hair. "Oh, she will be if you keep messing up."

Roseanne rolled her eyes.

"What's the issue with the ex?"

"It's complicated."

"Do you want to talk about it because I'm not a pro in this department, and the Prez of this department is about to land soon so you can wait for her wise advice, or," Irene kneaded the back of her neck, "do you simply need a distraction?"

Roseanne slightly knitted her eyebrows while she checked the time on her phone. It was already midnight. Lisa's last text message an hour ago was 'Good night, Chaeyoung.' Would it be if Lisa was not there to hug her to sleep? Was Lisa even able to sleep without her? After that fight?

"Okay, you obviously don't want to talk to her now so..." Irene snatched Roseanne's phone and put it face down on her lap.

"Rude?!"

"A distraction for a distraction! We need to come up with an idea for a huge betting game during SFW."

Roseanne nodded. "Now you're talking. What did we do again last year? No, before that, did Seulgi accept your deal?"

"Not yet." Irene shared her thoughts about why Seulgi could not decide yet and one of her theories was the latter might still be in love with her.

Roseanne did not agree with that, teasing Irene that the reason they broke up was because Seulgi finally realized she was too perfect for Irene. Irene glowered back at her.

They started thinking of betting game ideas to be a step ahead of Jennie, whatever she might have up her sleeves for Seoul Fashion Week. It was helping Roseanne get her mind off Lisa when their phones received a notification that Ashley was back.

Ashley was back from an overseas schedule, and they called her immediately to talk about their ideas so far. She complained about why she shared her location with the two when she only wanted to go home and sleep, not think about Jennie or betting games.

When Ashley hung up, Irene huffed. "Ash seems pretty dodgy about this topic."

"Maybe she's just tired. I can't keep up with how your mind is actively at work right now."

"It's the witching hour for me when the clock strikes 12."

Roseanne put her hands together as Irene's comment got her thinking. "Ash didn't do anything bad to Jennie so maybe that's why she thinks we're both on our own."

"Well, she hated the last betting game you did so she's maybe not getting involved in any of this from now on."

Roseanne already apologized to Ashley about that betting game and her best friend was thrilled that something nice came out of it, which was her and Lisa being officially together. All her conniving ways almost made her lose not only Lisa but also Ashley. Had things ended up differently, she was sure Ashley had walked out of her life already. Maybe Irene too.

"Uh, I'm not this person as you know but," Irene looked like a different person, with her eyes softening up and a hand reaching to pat Roseanne's shoulder. It took some effort and holding back a cringe for her to do that small gesture of care. "Ash and I are here to go roll in the mud with you so if we need to fight Lisa right now, say the word. Give me the address of her studio and I'll have sparring with her."

That made Roseanne laugh, it was warming her up inside. "Yeah. We'll raise hell if she chooses that muse over me."

By the time she got home, it was almost two in the morning. As soon as she lay in bed, its emptiness sank and finally, she let her tears out. Of all the emotions talking over each other inside her head, her fears were the loudest. They were screaming in her stomach; every lining took tough punches. Her heart was not spared by the papercut-like pain that came with every question crushing her soul.

What if Lisa remembered who her true muse was? Would she be the one forgotten, then? What if Lisa still loved that muse? Would she ever know the feeling of being loved in return?

Was it Lisa's fault? No. Maybe she was just being selfish, she made her jealousy take hold of her without even listening to Lisa explain. She always reacted instantly whenever someone made her feel she was not enough. When people's words hurt her, there was always only one person to blame.

Herself.

Overreactive. Dramatic. Very emotional.

Feeling too much was never accepted by her own mom. The industry she was in never allowed her to freely speak her heart out. There was always an image to maintain and a reputation that could not be tarnished. So, all the names of her emotions were long forgotten they came out only as stress that justifiably masked anger. Repressing and projecting them as one emotion made her a factory of numbing feelings.

But since Lisa happened to her, her emotions started to look her in the eye repeating their names.

Vulnerability, avoidance,

jealousy, confusion,

connection, disconnection,

insecurity, sadness,

love, gratitude, and so much more. That night, they all conspired to come out in tears.

And what was the name for that feeling when happiness was quickly followed by dread? It was there behind joy like a shadow. Roseanne figured happiness was fleeting. Whenever she and Lisa would share good moments, that shadow would come to collect it back.

That shadow had always been catastrophically aware. Roseanne seemed to ask it, "Did I even deserve to be happy?" Why give in to the feeling that would be taken away?

"What's it worth?" she folded her knees to her chest as she lay there on her side like a fetus. She held back at whispering a call to her mom for there would not be any answer. Her pillowcase was wet with tears as she cradled her trembling self.

What if Lisa was not hers to keep? Who got to decide that because she was willing to fight the universe even if it shortened her life? She was making a deal with the universe that if it came to that, then she would beg it to allow her to spend the rest of her life with Lisa because she would not be able to live if Lisa chose someone else after her.

She never dreamed of being at the start of 'after loving' Lisa. Loving Lisa was her beginning and end. There could be no one else she could love after her. Like how she never loved anybody before her. But was it too much to ask?

More tears were being shed. It was scary to lose Lisa to someone whose face and name she had no clue about.

Was she prettier? Smarter? Had nurturing parents?

Was she sure with Lisa right at the start?

Did she make better bento?

Maybe she was one of those who would get to experience love only once in their lifetime, and briefly at that. People said that was how one learned to love; how one got better at loving. When there was pain, then it was worth something. But that night, she wished to unlearn it.

Maybe Lisa could not love her for she was only a sum of her traumas, making Lisa taste it in the most bitter push and pull. Maybe it would be good for Lisa to completely abandon her. But she still did not understand how the reason she was sad was because she loved Lisa.

An exasperated whimper came out of her lips. Her hands could not even wipe her tears cleanly the way Lisa always did. It was too much—stop the pain—someone?! Anyone?!

I need to stop this pain right now, she urged her brain to have a think. There was one way she did all the time.

That friend.

It saved her from the extreme pain of dealing with the toxicity of the modelling industry and after her heart surgery. She knew she had kept some stock of it somewhere. Her doctor said, "For when the pain goes over the scale of 10, take it."

Fucking 10. She was feeling 40.

Roseanne walked to the drawer where she dumped random stuff from pins and extra buttons to cute clothes tags and stolen coffee coasters. There it was. That goodfella. In a pills box. Its softest blue tingled her skin as if it missed her too.

Without thinking twice, she took one shallow convex tablet and swallowed it with water. She knew well the relief it would do, and she was seeing all the named emotions leave her one by one. Before losing them all, she texted Irene and Ashley.

"The goodfella made me swallow it so need you to watch over me? ASAP?"

Ash 🤎: WTH?! Good thing I'm so jetlagged?! Omw!

Irene B 🩷: not proud of u

Recalling that moment, Roseanne slipped her index finger on the space between the lens and temple of her sunglasses, wiping tears. She subtly glanced at Ashley and Irene on the other side of the aisle, looking at them with more appreciation. These were the real friends and goodfellas she should rely on more. She felt sorry for herself for it was the only way she knew to kill the pain.

Ashley and Irene saw Roseanne covered in her duvet, positioned like a fetus with swollen eyes from all the crying.

Ashley took off her jacket and got into the bed at once. "How many did you take?"

"Relax. J—just one. My heart is hurting so..." Roseanne struggled to speak, her voice low.

Irene and Ashley exchanged glances. Ashley did not say anything and just lay down to spoon-hug Roseanne.

"Rosie girl, we don't want to plan anyone's funerals here, only my pride that's still dying at the moment." Irene looked at Roseanne concernedly before heading over to the sofa to sleep there.

All the emotions left Roseanne except for that shadow. "Girls? What's the name for the feeling when you know something bad is going to happen after being happy?"

There was silence and then Ashley started rubbing her back. "Foreboding joy. Your dad told you that because that's how he felt whenever your time spent together was over."

But maybe, there was also a name for the feeling when you know a greater joy would follow all that, Roseanne thought as the soft yellow sky started to align with that thought, especially when you're choosing love and taking responsibility for it.

She told Lisa to always hold on to her love. It would be crazy and silly, scary and shivery if she would just leave Lisa holding on to a sudden nothingness.

Her wish to the clouds was for her love to really be the kind that would match all of Lisa's pain.

I love you, Lisa. Come back to me soon.

Please.

Come back to me.

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A/N: I'll just go to sleep and finish the last chapter and post. Yeah, yeah, yeah.