Like It's 2019, Maybe (JenLisa)

2014, Trainee days

Lisa wasn’t the type to pick fights. She was friendly, easygoing—the kind of girl who laughed at bad jokes and avoided unnecessary drama.

Most of the time.

She had never been good at confrontations. If someone took her spot in the practice room, she just found another. If a trainer was harsh, she swallowed the criticism and worked harder. She kept her head down, focused on her dream, and let the little things slide.

But not when it came to Jennie.

Jennie, who carried the weight of expectations like it was second nature. Jennie, who pushed herself until exhaustion, who rarely let herself show when she was struggling. Jennie, who Lisa watched more than she should—memorizing the way she scrunched her nose when she was thinking, the way she bit her lip when she was focused, the way she never let anyone see how tired she really was.

Lisa never said a word about how she felt. She never admitted—even to herself—that her heart beat too fast whenever Jennie smiled at her, or that she found herself looking for Jennie in every crowded room. It wasn’t something she was allowed to think about.

But hearing people tear Jennie down?

That was something Lisa could not ignore.

She was sprawled across the staircase, arms behind her head, catching her breath after an exhausting practice session, when she heard them.

“She thinks she’s better than everyone just because she studied abroad.”

Lisa’s eyes snapped open.

“She’s always getting special treatment,” another voice added. “I mean, yeah, she’s good, but not that good.”

Lisa sat up slowly, her pulse suddenly thrumming in her ears. Her hands, which had been lazily resting on her stomach, curled into fists before she forced them to relax.

They were talking about Jennie. Her Jennie—not that she’d ever say that out loud.

Her body moved before her mind could catch up. She stood, stretching her arms as if shaking off the last remnants of fatigue, before turning the corner.

“You’re talking about Jennie?” she asked, voice smooth, deceptively light.

The two girls flinched, eyes widening.

Lisa smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Go on,” she said. “I’d love to hear more.”

One of them shifted uncomfortably. “We were just—”

“Joking?” Lisa finished for them, tilting her head. “That’s funny, because I don’t remember laughing.”

Silence.

Lisa took a slow step closer. She wasn’t the tallest, but the way she carried herself in that moment made her seem larger. “Jennie doesn’t get special treatment,” she said, her voice softer now—but somehow more dangerous. “She just works harder than you.”

The two girls looked like they wanted to disappear.

Lisa exhaled sharply through her nose, shaking her head. “Next time you have something to say,” she added, “say it to her face.”

She turned on her heel and walked away, her heart still pounding in her chest.

Lisa hated conflict. She really did.

But for Jennie?

She’d go to war every single time.

~~~