Across the river, in the mirrored chaos, Y/N's days were just as full. Wake, run, repeat. She split her hours, half her time in one building, the other in another, always in motion, always managing someone else's pressure so she didn't have to face her own. The Meovv girls adored her. They were young, bright eyed, endlessly hopeful. Ella, the youngest, had known Y/N since she was a kid. Sometimes she'd grab Y/N's hand after practice, breathless and smiling. "Unnie, you don't rest enough."
"I've got better stamina than you think." Y/N smiled back.
But the truth was she was exhausted, not from the hours, but from the pretending. Because no matter how many schedules she juggled, her mind found its way back to the same place. Jennie laughing on set. Jennie's voice over a half-finished demo. Jennie's perfume ghosting through a hallway.
One night, while reviewing audio from a rehearsal, Y/N froze. A beat, just one bar in a backing track, so close to the rhythm of a song Jennie had recorded years ago it made her stomach twist. She hit pause, stared at the waveform, and whispered under her breath, "Of course you'd find your way in here too."
She shut her laptop, and sat there in the dark office, the glow of the screen still flickering across her hands.
Everyone thought she'd moved on. That she'd made peace with the distance, that professionalism had replaced the hurt. But her heart still stuttered like it remembered a pattern she couldn't unlearn.
Jennie didn't reached out. Neither did Y/N.
Both of them learned new ways to stay busy. Two different forms of survival. Two people pretending distraction was the same as healing. But in the quiet hours, when the music stopped and the phones went still, the truth pressed in from all sides.
They weren't moving on. They were running in place.
The studio lights had gone dim hours ago, leaving everything bathed in the cool glow of monitors and the soft pulse of the soundboard. Jisoo was still in the booth, headphones on, murmuring notes to the engineer through the glass. Outside, Y/N sat slumped in her chair, tablet balanced on her knees, stylus tapping nervously against the screen.
Rows of colored blocks filled her schedule, her messages from Blisoo's team blinked unread, stacked over a half-finished draft from TBL. Her coffee had gone cold an hour ago.
She told herself she was fine. Busy was good. Busy meant not thinking.
"Still working?"
Rosé's voice floated from the doorway, light and familiar. She leaned her head in, blonde hair loose, oversized hoodie swallowing her frame. Her smile was soft, but her eyes took everything in, the fatigue, the tension, the way Y/N's shoulders had stopped unclenching even at rest.
"Trying to make sure Jisoo's schedule doesn't collapse on itself. Blisso team keeps swapping timings." Y/N didn't look up from her screen.
Rosé stepped into the room, perching on the edge of the desk beside her. "You're running yourself into the ground," she said gently. "Come with me to New York and Paris. Jane can't go this time, and I could use someone I like around."
Y/N's hand froze.
"You know that's not a good idea," she murmured, still pretending to read her notes. "Between the tour prep, the comeback, and Meovv's release next month—"
Rosé raised a brow. "You mean between our comeback preparation and their release?" Y/N finally looked up. Rosé's tone was teasing, but her expression wasn't.
"It's not a vacation," Rosé added. "It's work. You'll still be doing what you do best, keeping everyone sane. Just somewhere prettier."
From the booth doors, Jisoo's voice cut through. "I'm done for tonight, and Rosie's right, Y/N. You deserve to breathe. I don't know why you're helping with Meovv when you barely get days off from us. You'll burn out before the tour starts again."
Y/N sighed, rubbing her temple.
"Sitting still is worse," she muttered.
Rosé's lips curved into a knowing smile. "You mean because sitting still means thinking."
Y/N met her gaze and didn't deny it. They started packing up, Y/N gathering her things, while Rosé scrolled through her phone. Then Y/N exhaled, a quiet surrender.
"Fine," she said, closing the tablet. "I'll go. Just for work."
Rosé's grin bloomed bright and immediate. "Good. You'll love the YSL show."
"I'm not promising I'll love anything," Y/N said, but her voice softened at the edges.
The door open, a sound Y/N felt before she heard. Jennie stepped in, head tilted toward the hallway, a faint furrow between her brows.
"Have you seen Lisa?" she asked the room, her tone perfectly casual.
Rosé shook her head. "She went down to the lobby, I think."
Jennie nodded, but her eyes flicked briefly, too briefly, toward Y/N. It was enough. Y/N's pulse jumped. She forced a polite smile, the kind that fit neatly between boundaries.
"She said she'll be right back," she added, her voice steady.