Like It's 2019, Maybe

Okay, so this chapter was totally inspired by Lisa’s IG story. Like, girl, are you having a Jenlisa relapse or what? Hahaha. And while I was off enjoying my vacation, I present to you: Lisa’s POV with scenes sort of inspired by Dream lyrics. 💋

~M

~~~

2018

Lisa wasn’t the jealous type (Uhuhh,  riiiiighhht) Not really. Swear! 

She trusted Jennie. She knew that what they had—hidden as it was, frustrating as it could be—was real.

But watching another male idol lean just a little too close, his smile just a little too charming, made Lisa’s stomach twist in a way she hated.

They were at an awards afterparty, the dim lighting and music making everything feel hazy. Lisa tried to focus on her drink, on Jisoo’s rambling about some actor she found cute, but her eyes kept darting back to Jennie.

The gorgeous brunette was laughing at something he said, her hand grazing his arm as she turned away. Just a second, just a flicker of touch, but it was enough.

Lisa clenched her jaw.

“Lisa.”

She turned. Jennie was suddenly in front of her, that soft, knowing look in her eyes. “Dance with me?”

Lisa hesitated.

Jennie didn’t. She grabbed Lisa’s wrist and pulled her toward the dance floor, slotting them together in the kind of way that made Lisa forget they weren’t alone.

Lisa swallowed hard. “What are you doing?”

Jennie tilted her head. “Reminding you that you don’t have to be jealous.”

Lisa blinked. “I wasn’t—”

Jennie smirked, stepping closer until their noses almost brushed. “You were.”

Lisa let out a shaky breath. God, she was so gone for this girl.

But how long before the weight of hidden love becomes too much?

~~~

2019 

~ Are you always gonna hate me for that night in Tokyo?

Lisa gripped her microphone tighter as they stood on stage, taking in the sight of the packed Tokyo Dome. Fans were screaming their names, waving lightsticks, chanting lyrics. The energy was electric.

But she barely felt it.

She forced a smile, waving at the crowd, but her heart was somewhere else.

It was on Jennie.

It was always on Jennie.

Jennie, who stood just a few steps away, smiling like nothing was wrong. Like she hadn’t whispered "I love you" against Lisa’s lips last night. Like she hadn’t pulled away the second Lisa tried to deepen the kiss. Like she hadn’t said, "Not here. Not where someone could see."

Lisa swallowed down the bitterness curling in her throat.

She knew what she signed up for. She knew how dangerous this was, how impossible it would be for them to just be.

But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

They finished their last song, bowed together, and walked off stage, the cheers still echoing behind them. Lisa barely heard it.

Her mind was racing.

The moment they stepped into the hallway, Jennie’s hand brushed against hers, a silent touch, a habit. Lisa pulled away before she could stop herself.

Jennie looked at her, startled. "Lisa?"

Lisa clenched her jaw and kept walking.

She couldn’t do this tonight.

She couldn’t.

But Jennie wasn’t one to let things go easily. She followed, her voice urgent. "Lisa, stop! Please, just talk to me!"

Lisa didn’t want to stop.

If she did, she would break.

If she did, she might say something she couldn’t take back.

But then Jennie grabbed her wrist, and Lisa felt it. The warmth of her skin. The way her pulse pounded beneath Lisa’s fingers. The way it had always been Jennie, always her.

Lisa shut her eyes for a second. Don’t do this, don’t do this, don’t do this.

"Let me go, Jennie."

She tried to make it sound firm, indifferent. But her voice cracked, betraying her.

Jennie didn’t let go. "No. Not until you tell me what’s wrong."

Lisa snapped.

She yanked her wrist free, turning sharply.

"What’s wrong? Are you serious?"

Jennie flinched at her tone, her eyes wide.

"I can’t keep doing this, Jennie. Us. Whatever this is."

Jennie looked stunned, her lips parting like she was about to argue. "Lisa, you don’t mean that—"

"Don’t I?" Lisa let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to love you in the dark?"

Jennie sucked in a breath.

Lisa hated this. She hated how much this hurt.

"You tell me you love me, but only behind closed doors. You hold my hand, but only when no one’s looking. You kiss me, but only if there are no cameras." Lisa’s voice wavered, but she kept going. "Do you know what that does to me, Jennie?"

Jennie’s eyes shined with unshed tears. "Lisa, it’s not that simple—"

"Then make it simple," Lisa said desperately. "Choose me. Out loud. In front of everyone."

She saw it.

The hesitation.

The fear.

Jennie’s throat bobbed as she swallowed back words she wasn’t ready to say.

Lisa felt her chest tighten.

There was her answer.

She exhaled shakily, stepping back. "I get it now."

Jennie’s lips trembled. "Lisa—"

"I’ll always be something you love in secret."

Lisa’s heart cracked in half, but her voice didn’t waver.

"But I can’t be that anymore."

And then she walked away.

Not because she wanted to.

But because if she didn’t, she would have never let Jennie go.

~~~~

2020

~ I know a place where we can be us

Lisa leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Jennie move around the dorm living room with a small frown. Jennie was trying to find the remote, muttering under her breath about how it always disappeared when she needed it.

Lisa grinned. “Baby, did you check under the couch?”

Jennie froze. Lisa froze.

The word had slipped out so naturally, so easily, that for a second, it didn’t even feel wrong.

Jennie turned to her, wide-eyed, and Lisa could see the faintest blush creeping up her neck. “What did you just call me?”

Lisa’s throat went dry. “Uh—”

The Thai quickly turned, pretending to grab a drink from the fridge, but her hands were shaking. God, she was so whipped.

Behind her, Jennie laughed, the teasing lilt in her voice making Lisa weak. “Say it again.”

Lisa groaned. “No.”

Jennie stepped closer, her warmth pressing against Lisa’s back. “Please?”

Lisa clenched her jaw and walled away. This girl was going to be the death of her.

~~~

2022

~ I know it ain't real, but it's real enough

The streets of Seoul were nearly empty, the city quiet in a way Lisa had never experienced before. She pulled her hoodie lower, gripping the bag of takeout tighter as she made her way to Jennie’s apartment.

She knew she shouldn’t be here again.

They weren’t…together. Not really. Not in a way that made sense.

But when Jennie had sounded sad over the phone this time, her voice small and exhausted, Lisa hadn’t even thought twice.

Jennie’s door swung open before Lisa could knock. She was in another oversized hoodie, her hair a mess, eyes slightly red from what Lisa knew was stress and lack of sleep.

Lisa sighed. “Baby—”

Jennie melted into her before she could finish, burying her face into Lisa’s neck.

Lisa’s chest ached.

Because she knew she’d do this a thousand more times—show up for Jennie, hold her close, remind her she wasn’t alone.

Even if it was never enough to make Jennie stay.

Even though Lisa knew she was trapped in a toxic cycle with Jennie—no labels, no future—she just couldn’t stop. She wasn’t strong enough to walk away, not yet.

But soon, she would be. 

~~~

2023

~ Whenever I'm missing you, call you up but I can't get through

Lisa’s fingers hovered over Jennie’s contact.

She could hear the rain outside her Bangkok apartment, the soft hum of the city alive even at night. She had been here for months, still trying to move on, trying to pretend like her heart wasn’t still tethered to someone an ocean away.

Lisa stared at the phone screen.

She should have deleted Jennie’s personal number long ago—as if she hadn’t already memorized it by heart.

Instead, she pressed Call.

The dial tone rang once. Twice.

Then, a sleepy, familiar voice. “Lisa?”

Lisa closed her eyes.

She wanted to say something—I miss you. I’m sorry. I still love you.

But instead, she whispered, “Go back to sleep...”

And then she hung up. "...hon."

Lisa needed to move on. And she would. So she finally responded to the many texts and missed calls and typed: Sure, would love to have dinner with you, Frederic.  

~~~

2024

~ It's bittersweet, at least a girl can dream

Lisa had always been good at pretending.

Pretending she wasn’t hurt.

Pretending she had moved on.

Pretending that seeing Jennie with someone else wasn’t killing her.

But she wasn’t ready for this. Even if she was the one who started dating first.

The company dinner was nothing special—just executives, a few industry names, and them. The four of them. Blackpink.

Lisa had been talking to Jisoo when it happened. A flicker of movement in the corner of her eye. A notification lighting up someone’s phone screen. And suddenly, there it was.

'Jennie & Taehyung: K-Pop’s New Power Couple?'

She almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it.

Of course Jennie would be linked to him. He was charming, handsome, one of the most sought-after idols in the world. It made sense.

And yet, all Lisa could see was Jennie.

The way she used to hold Lisa’s hand under the table when no one was looking.

The way she used to whisper Lisa’s name like a secret, like something fragile and precious.

The way she used to love her, even when she was too scared to show it.

Lisa’s chest felt tight, but she forced herself to breathe.

Jisoo nudged her. “You okay?”

Lisa blinked, her mask slipping back into place. She shrugged, reaching for her glass. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Jisoo didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push.

Lisa could feel Jennie’s eyes on her before she even turned her head.

And there she was.

Beautiful, breathtaking, and staring at Lisa like she wanted to say something.

Lisa smirked, lifting her drink slightly in Jennie’s direction. “Congrats.”

Jennie flinched, just for a second. But Lisa caught it.

“You and Taehyung look good together,” Lisa added, voice smooth, perfectly casual.

Like it didn’t hurt.

Like it wasn’t killing her.

Jennie’s lips parted, but no words came out.

Lisa didn’t wait. She turned back to Jisoo, forcing a laugh at whatever conversation was happening.

She didn’t see the way Jennie’s fingers clenched around her napkin.

She didn’t see the way Jennie’s expression faltered.

Because if she looked, she might break.

And Lisa was done breaking for someone who had never been brave enough to choose her.

~~~

2025

~ Can we be friends at least?



Paris was beautiful at night. 

The Eiffel Tower glittered like a thousand tiny stars, and the Seine stretched below like a ribbon of liquid silver. A soft breeze played with Lisa’s blonde strands as she sat by the window of her apartment, fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of her wine glass.

She should have been happy.

Frederic was gentle, kind, and steady in ways Lisa knew she should appreciate more. He whispered sweet things in French, held her hand in public, and never made her feel like a secret.

But her heart wasn’t here.

It was back in Korea, in a small apartment where a sleepy voice used to mumble, “Baby, turn off the light.”

It was on a rooftop where the city lights reflected in the brown eyes of a girl who once called her hon in a voice so soft it made Lisa’s heart stutter.

It was in the past, in a love she had let go of but never really lost.

Lisa exhaled, fingers tightening around her pen as she stared at the half-written lyrics before her.

"Been drowning in dreams lately.

Like it's 2019, maybe."

She closed her eyes.

The wine tasted bitter now.

Because no matter how far she ran, how many songs she wrote, or how many times she kissed someone else—

Jennie was still the dream she never woke up from.

~

Lisa wasn’t sure why she felt so nervous.

She was past this. Past the heartbreak, past the late nights staring at the ceiling, wondering if she had imagined it all.

Then why did her hands tremble as she finalized the release of Dream?

Maybe it was wishful thinking. Maybe if she released this song for Jennie, she could finally be released too.

But deep down, Lisa knew the truth.

Her heart still sought Jennie in every melody, in every lyric. No matter how much she tried to move on, it always came back to her.

So she let herself be selfish just this once. She let the world hear the words she was too much of a coward to say out loud.

And somehow, she knew Jennie would hear them too.

The second she saw Jennie waiting for her in the YG studio, arms crossed, eyes burning with something dangerous, Lisa felt it all over again.

The ache. 

The longing. 

The years of wanting and never quite having.

Lisa sighed, tucking her hands into her pockets. “Knew you’d come.”

Jennie’s jaw tensed. “Did you write that song for me?”

Lisa let out a sharp breath, shaking her head. “Did you even listen to it?”

“Of course I did.”

Lisa chuckled, but it was bitter. “Then you already know the answer.”

Jennie took a step closer, and Lisa hated how her body reacted—how her breath caught, how her fingers twitched with the need to reach out.

“Lisa—”

"You don’t get to do this." Lisa’s voice came out sharper than she intended. "You don’t get to show up now and ask questions. Not when you let me walk away. Not when you—"

Her throat closed up.

Not when you broke me.

Jennie’s chest rose and fell quickly, like she was struggling to breathe. “I never wanted to let you go.”

Lisa’s jaw clenched. “Then why did you?”

Jennie’s eyes shone. “Because I was scared!" Her voice cracked. "Scared of losing everything—our group, our careers, you—”

Lisa swallowed. "You did lose me, Jennie." Her voice was barely above a whisper. “And you didn’t even try to stop me.”

A heavy silence stretched between them.

Then Jennie stepped forward—too close, too warm, too much like before. “Lisa…” Her voice trembled. “Do you still love me?”

Lisa let out a shaky breath.

She could lie. Say no, say she had moved on. Say she had finally stopped missing her, stopped dreaming about her, stopped loving her.

But she never had.

“I never stopped,” she admitted.

Jennie’s control snapped.

Lisa barely had time to react before soft, desperate lips crashed against hers.

For a split second, she froze.

Then she melted.

The kiss was frantic, hungry, years of pain and longing crashing into Lisa all at once. Her hands found Jennie’s waist, pulling her closer—closer, because she needed this, needed her. Jennie whimpered against her lips, fingers threading through Lisa’s hair, nails scraping against her scalp.

Lisa groaned, pressing Jennie against the wall, her mouth moving down to Jennie’s jaw, her neck—sucking a mark, a claim she wasn’t willing to let go of this time.

Jennie gasped. “Lisa—”

Lisa pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, dark and filled with something she had spent years suppressing. “Tell me you’re not running this time.”

Jennie’s eyes softened. “I’m not.” She swallowed hard. “I swear, Lisa, I—”

Lisa didn’t let her finish.

She kissed her again.

Jennie tasted like frustration, like regret, like she had been waiting just as long as Lisa had. And Lisa? Lisa was fucking starving. Her hands gripping tight, pulling Jennie impossibly close because she needed her, needed to feel her, needed to remind herself that this wasn’t another cruel dream.

Jennie whimpered against her mouth, and fuck, Lisa felt that sound—low in her stomach, between her legs, everywhere. Jennie’s fingers curled into Lisa’s hair, nails scraping against her scalp, and Lisa groaned, pressing her harder against the wall, her thigh slotting between Jennie’s legs just to hear that sweet little gasp she loved.

“Fuck—” Jennie exhaled, breath shaky, head tipping back as Lisa kissed down her jaw, her neck, sucking bruises into her skin that Jennie wouldn’t be able to hide tomorrow. And Lisa didn’t care. Let the whole world see. Let them fucking know.

Jennie gripped the front of Lisa’s jacket, yanking her back up for another kiss—this one slower, deeper, more dangerous. Lisa’s hands slid under Jennie’s shirt, fingertips tracing hot skin, feeling the way Jennie shivered beneath her.

Jennie barely had time to react before Lisa grabbed her hips, lifting her, walking them toward the studio couch. “Lisa—”

Lisa smirked against her lips. “Shhh, baby. We have a lot of time to make up for.”

Jennie grinned before pulling Lisa down with her.

Lisa pulled back slightly, her forehead resting against Jennie’s, breath uneven. “Say it,” she whispered. “I need to hear you say it.”

Jennie’s hands cupped Lisa’s face, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones. She didn’t hesitate.

“I love you.”

Lisa’s eyes fluttered shut.

Jennie’s voice was steady—no hesitation, no fear, just truth. It wasn’t a whispered confession in the dark or a fleeting moment of weakness. It was strong, certain, like it had always been there, waiting to be spoken.

“I love you,” Jennie said again, firmer, her fingers tightening against Lisa’s skin. “I never stopped. I never will.”

Lisa exhaled sharply, something inside her unraveling. Years of heartbreak, of pushing Jennie away, of trying to forget—it all crumbled in an instant.

Jennie saw it, felt it. She pressed her lips to Lisa’s cheek, soft and lingering, then met her gaze again. “I'm yours. And I want the world to know, Lisa. I'm ready, if you are.”

Lisa let out a shaky breath, a small, almost disbelieving laugh escaping her lips. “You’re mine.”

Jennie smiled, eyes shining. “I always was.”

Lisa kissed her again, slow and deep, letting herself believe it this time.

And as Jennie’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, Lisa knew—this wasn’t a dream.

She was home. Finally.