chaelisa prologues: you switch from vodka, lime, and soda

it's not over (but i don't want it to start)

For a while, they watched the rain pour noisily on the busy street, on the rusty trash bin, and on the metal, pastel-pink awning that covered their heads. Standing in front of her indie boutique storefront, Rosé shifted her weight from one foot to the other while her hands played with the messy threads at the seams of her oversized, pink denim jacket. Lisa kept her hands inside the pockets of her black vintage racing M&M jacket, one hand playing with the McDonald's ketchup packets.

"I never got to tell this to anyone or to you, but you were the first one I saw," Rosé spoke in a hushed tone.

The rain suddenly turned quiet, as if something inside Lisa lowered its volume as well as everything else the way it automatically did every time Rosé was in the same room. All she could hear then were Rosé's voice and breaths. Not her own words, not even her own wind. A small smile crept up to her lips as she asked, "What?"

Rosé met Lisa's waiting gaze briefly. "It was you that I saw first before Suzy. I had a crush on you right then."

The confession surprised Lisa she froze on the spot, gaping. Her hand stopped playing with the ketchup packet and her heart almost stopped functioning.

"I don't know if it was during the third time Jennie and I joined your friends for lunch and smokes or when you didn't show up at my birthday party but somewhere along the way, it just became Suzy and Rosé." Rosé stared at the pavement as if the memories played there. "And I thought, 'Okay, Lisa made it very easy for me to get over my crush on her because she's obviously not interested.'"

Lisa's jaw was clenched at the twist she never expected after years and years of being in love with Rosé from afar. It was supposed to be the other way around. She was the one who came to confess that day before flying out to Chicago.

Rosé smiled despite the bittersweet reminiscing. "Then we just clicked, and you were doing all these things that were really sweet like that time you drove all the way to my house to bring me Haribo when I randomly craved it." She placed both hands on her hips. "Then I asked, 'What the fuck is your problem?'"

Lisa chuckled at the memory so vivid she felt again what she felt then. "It's been sitting on my desk for years and nobody wanted them until you." Those were the exact words she told Rosé that day.

"True enough, it was going to expire the next day." Rosé laughed and Lisa joined in.

Their laughter filled the seconds of silence that followed. Rosé exhaled, her eyes falling aimlessly at the pedestrian light turning red as if signaling her to just stop talking about the past. She had her share of what-ifs, but it was pointless now that Lisa was leaving.

Clearing her throat, Lisa stole a glimpse at Rosé. "But you were over me then, weren't you?"

"Of course! It was only crush, you dummy! I think we're good at being friends."

"We are," replied Lisa though a part of her asked for the first time, What if we were better at being more than that?

What if we could be the best together?

"So, did you happen to drop by because you don't have an umbrella again?"

Lisa's index finger scratched her eyebrow. "Well, I was—"

"You're being shy."

"Huh?"

Rosé gestured at Lisa's finger. "You always do that when you're shy." Then she narrowed her eyes at the other woman. "How many times do I have to remind you that you're, uh, supposed to bring an umbrella when it looks like it'll rain?"