Chapter 80

The morning after the MV dropped, the house felt… off.

Not loud-off. Not chaotic-off like when they forgot where they placed the TV remote for the fifth time. This was the quiet kind of off. The kind where even the sunlight felt like it was tiptoeing through the curtains, afraid to disturb something fragile.

LISA was already awake.

Too awake.

She sat on the couch, phone in hand, replaying the same scene for what felt like the hundredth time. The screen glowed softly in her face, looping a certain moment from Jennie’s new pre-release music video for “Love Hangover” from the Ruby album.

And there he was again.

Charles Melton.

Standing across from Jennie, smiling like it was the most natural thing in the world to look at her like that. The camera loved them. The lighting loved them. The entire production seemed obsessed with making sure every glance felt like a story Lisa wasn’t part of.

Lisa’s jaw tightened.

She replayed another scene.

Then another.

Then the one where Jennie laughed softly in-character, brushing past him like they had a history written in invisible ink.

Lisa exhaled sharply through her nose.

“Crazy…” she muttered under her breath.

Pause.

She replayed it again anyway.

“Seriously… crazy.”

Her thumb hovered, then paused the video. Silence filled the room instantly, heavier than before.

That was when it hit her properly—Jennie hadn’t told her.

Not once.

Not even a hint that there would be a leading man in the MV. Not even a casual “oh by the way, I’ll be acting with someone today.”

Nothing.

Lisa leaned back into the couch, eyes narrowing at the frozen frame of Jennie smiling in that soft, scripted way.

“…You didn’t say anything,” she whispered.

And then, softer—

“Aish… what the hell.”

The words were barely audible, like she was afraid the walls might report her feelings back to Jennie.

—

When Jennie finally walked into the living room that morning, she immediately felt it.

The shift.

JENNIE stopped halfway, still holding a bottle of water. “Lili?”

Lisa didn’t look up.

That alone was unusual.

Normally, Lisa would’ve already been teasing her, reaching for her waist, or asking for a morning kiss with that dramatic whining voice she reserved only for Jennie.

But today… nothing.

Jennie blinked. “Are you—did something happen?”

Silence.

Lisa scrolled her phone again, even though nothing new was there. Her thumb moved too deliberately, like she was trying to look busy instead of hurt.

Jennie walked closer. “Baby?”

Still nothing.

That word usually melted Lisa instantly.

Today, it barely cracked the surface.

Jennie tilted her head. “Did I do something?”

Lisa finally spoke.

Low. Controlled. “No.”

One syllable.

Cold.

Jennie frowned. “That doesn’t sound like ‘no.’ That sounds like—”

“Nothing happened, Jennie.”

The way Lisa said her name made Jennie pause.

That was worse.

Jennie set her bottle down carefully on the table and crouched slightly in front of her. “Look at me.”

Lisa didn’t.

Jennie reached for her hand.

Lisa pulled away.

That small movement said everything louder than words.

Jennie blinked again, confusion slowly turning into concern. “Okay… okay, I’m not gonna force you. But can you tell me what’s wrong?”

Lisa finally looked at her.

For a second, Jennie almost wished she hadn’t.

Because Lisa’s eyes weren’t angry.

They were… wounded.

And trying very hard not to show it.

Lisa let out a quiet breath. “Nice MV.”

Jennie’s expression softened instantly. “You saw it.”

Lisa nodded once.

A beat passed.

Jennie smiled cautiously. “What did you think?”

That was the wrong question.

Lisa’s lips pressed together.

Then she said, very softly, almost to herself:

“Didn’t know it was that kind of MV.”

Jennie froze.

Understanding clicked in slowly.

“Oh…” Jennie murmured.

Lisa looked away again.

A curse slipped out under her breath—quiet, broken, more frustrated than angry.

“Damn it…”

Then another, even softer.

“Seriously…”

Jennie immediately reached for her hand again, slower this time. “Lili…”

Lisa didn’t pull away this time, but she didn’t hold back either. Her hand stayed loose, uncommitted, like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to be comforted yet.

Jennie sighed. “I was going to tell you.”

Lisa let out a short, humorless breath. “When?”

Jennie hesitated.

That hesitation was enough.

Lisa nodded faintly, like she already knew the answer.

“Right,” she whispered. “When it was already out.”

Jennie immediately shook her head. “No, it’s not like that. I just… I didn’t think it was a big deal. It’s acting, Lili.”

Lisa finally looked at her again.

“Acting,” she repeated.

Jennie nodded quickly. “Yes. That’s it.”

Lisa’s gaze flickered—hurt still there, but something softer starting to slip through.

“You smiled at him like that,” Lisa said quietly.

Jennie blinked.

Then she understood exactly which “him” she meant.

“Oh my god,” Jennie said, half exasperated, half relieved. “Charles Melton is literally acting.”

Lisa muttered again, almost inaudible, another curse under her breath.

Jennie bit her lip to keep from smiling at how obvious the jealousy was becoming.

Still, she stayed gentle.

“Lili,” Jennie said softly, leaning closer. “Look at me.”

This time, Lisa did.

Jennie held her gaze. “You’re my real life. He’s a music video scene.”

Lisa’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You didn’t tell me.”

“I should’ve,” Jennie admitted immediately. No hesitation this time. “I’m sorry.”

That sincerity made Lisa’s defenses flicker.

But she still said, quieter, “It felt weird seeing you like that.”

Jennie softened even more. “Like what?”

Lisa paused.

Her voice dropped. “Like you belong in someone else’s story for a moment.”

Jennie’s expression changed instantly.

All teasing vanished.

She reached up, gently cupping Lisa’s face. “Hey.”

Lisa didn’t resist.

Jennie’s thumb brushed her cheek slowly. “I always come back to you. Even when I’m acting. Even when there’s cameras. Even when I’m pretending something else.”

Lisa’s breathing slowed a little.

Jennie leaned closer. “You’re not losing me to a music video, Lili.”

A beat.

Then Jennie added softly, “If anything, I was thinking about you the whole time I was filming it.”

Lisa blinked.

“…Really?”

Jennie nodded. “Yes. I kept thinking, ‘Lili is going to tease me so much for this.’”

That finally got a faint reaction—barely there, but real.

Lisa looked away again, embarrassed now instead of angry.

Jennie smiled slightly. “There it is.”

Lisa frowned. “What.”

“That little jealous face,” Jennie teased gently.

Lisa immediately muttered another quiet curse, turning her head further away.

Jennie laughed softly and leaned in, pressing her forehead against Lisa’s shoulder.

“Come on,” Jennie murmured. “Don’t sulk at me all day.”

Lisa stayed still.

For a moment.

Then, reluctantly, she sighed.

“…You should’ve told me,” she repeated, softer now. Less sharp. More vulnerable.

Jennie nodded against her. “I know.”

Silence settled again—but this time it wasn’t heavy.

It was healing.

Jennie tightened her hold slightly. “Next time, I tell you everything. Even the boring behind-the-scenes stuff. Even if I think it’s nothing.”

Lisa hesitated.

Then, finally, she lifted her hand and lightly rested it on Jennie’s arm.

“…Better be everything,” she mumbled.

Jennie smiled.

“Everything.”

Another pause.

Then Lisa added, very quietly, almost reluctant:

“…You looked good though.”

Jennie lifted her head instantly, grinning. “Oh?”

Lisa immediately groaned, covering her face with her hand. “Forget I said anything.”

Jennie laughed, wrapping her arms around her properly this time.

“Too late.”

And just like that, the tension dissolved—replaced by warmth, teasing, and the familiar rhythm of two people who always found their way back to each other, even after misunderstandings born from jealousy, silence, and a music video that never stood a chance.