what i can't have | JENLISA

got a bit lazy so jennie's eyes are green (again) and let's just pretend that lalice is an unisex name, thank you :)

Rock and Roll? More like Bubblegum Pop and Rolling My Eyes
by Lalice Manoban

If you're reading Rolling Stone for Rock, I'd suggest you move on. If you're reading for The Plane Pink, I'd suggest finding a new magazine subscription.

I won't mince words. The Plane Pink aren't great, and they really aren't good. Not even buying their latest album, Envisioned, on vinyl and throwing it on my well-loved Steepletone could mask the tragedy that I was forced to listen to.

More than anything, while listening to The Plane Pink, I can't help but wonder why I'm even writing an article. Rolling Stone highlights some of the best Rock, both from popular musicians and more obscure, underground groups. I can attest that The Plane Pink is neither.

Their sound simply isn't Rock. There isn't a deeper message or meaning. The lyrics are cookie-cutter, and the passion behind their music is lacking. If anything, I can recommend The Plane Pink's music as some type of catchy noise that's more similar to pop. I'd expect to hear it on the radio's top 40 hits, not in another edition of our magazine.

Despite not being very artistic, I will say that the band has done something of note. They've produced a startling number of hits, albeit somewhat mind-numbing. Something about their music is catchy. Perhaps it's the predictable chord progression or simply because the band members are easy on the eyes.

My real question for them is this: are you writing songs for a cushy retirement or to be remembered? Because I can't guarantee I'll remember after I finish edits on this piece-

Jennie let out a noise somewhere between a frustrated growl and an enraged huff, throwing the magazine down on the floor of their tour bus.

She couldn't keep looking at it. The words dripping with derision and unfair criticism. She couldn't keep reading the collection of letters calling into question her art, her band, her life.

"Jane's angry at a magazine," Rosé yawned as she looked away from the road and over her shoulder at Jennie.

"I'm enraged at the piece of shit behind the article in the magazine who, and I quote, called us not very artistic, and lacking in passion and creativity," Jennie shot back, her blood boiling and her hands clenched into tight fists.

Irene picked up the magazine, her eyes narrowing more with each word that she read. "Who the fuck wrote that garbage?" she demanded, letting Jisoo take it from her.

"Probably some white guy who's never heard music," Rosé scoffed, not even looking at the article before making that assumption.

"That rank, offensive bull is now in the hands of hundreds of thousands of fans," Jennie gritted out, gesturing with anger at the magazine in Jisoo's tight grip. "What are we going to do?"

"Play for our next sold-out venue and the next and the next," Jisoo said, already folding up the magazine and shoving it under the passenger seat at the front of the bus. "We don't have to let this get us down."

Jennie just grumbled and leaned against the couch, folding her arms along the back of it. She dropped her chin to her arms and watched the scenery pass by out the window.

The Plane Pink were great, despite whatever that annoying writer from Rolling Stone said. They'd been great, ever since the four of them teamed up during their first year of college. What had started as a fun way to let off steam without resorting to booze or pot, was now their livelihood.