AMPOULES REMAINING: 21
Yesterday, Jennie saw herself on the Yonsei University in a world where Lisa had died—according to an obituary she found online at the public library—at twenty-three from brain cancer.
Today, it's a gorgeous afternoon in a Seoul where Jennie Kim died two years ago in a car accident.
Jennie steps into an exhibit in Kumho Museum of Art, trying not to look at the woman behind the counter, whose nose is in a book. Instead, she focuses on the walls, which are covered in lively photographs whose subject appears to be exclusively the Han River.
In every season.
Every color.
Every time of day.
The woman says without looking up, "Let me know if there's anything I can help you with."
"Are you the photographer?"
She sets the book aside and steps out from behind the register.
Walks over.
It's the closest Jennie has been to Lisa since the night Jennie helped her die. She's stunning—form-fitting jeans and a black T-shirt with a black and pink bomber jacket on its top.
"I am, yes. Lisa Manoban."
She clearly doesn't know Jennie, doesn't recognize her.
Jennie guesses that perhaps in this world, they never met.
"Jennie Kim."
She offers her hand, and Lisa takes it. It feels just like hers—soft and strong and adept—the hand of a photographer. Jennie always knew that Lisa had a thing for photography, she remembered, at that certain moment, of all the things Lisa had made her smile in front of a camera (and how Jennie always secretly takes a photo of her wife).
"These are amazing," Jennie says.
"Thank you."
"I love the focus on one subject."
"I started taking photos of the river three years ago. It's so different season to season." She points to the one where they are both standing in front of. "This was one of my first attempts. On clear days in late summer, the water turns this luminescent, greenish blue. Almost tropical."
Lisa moves down the wall. "Then you get a day like this in October, all clouded over, and it paints the water gray. I love these because there's almost no distinction between the water and the sky."
"You have a favorite season?" Jennie asks with a fond look on her face.
"Winter."
"Really?"
"It's the most diverse, and the sunrises are spectacular. When the river froze over last year, those were some of my best pictures."
The conversation stalls.
Lisa glances back at the register.
Wanting to get back to her book probably.
Having most likely made an appraisal of Jennie faded, thrift-store jeans and hand-me-down button-down and realized she's unlikely to buy anything.
"Is this your gallery?" Jennie asks, though she knows the answer.
Just wanting to hear her talk. Jennie thought to herself. To make this moment last as long as it possibly can.
"It's actually a co-op, but since my work is hanging this month, I'm on deck to hold down the fort."
Lisa smiles.
YOU ARE READING
Infinity: A Jenlisa AU
Fanfiction"Will I see her again?" "I don't think so." Those are the last words Jennie Kim hears before the masked abductor knocks her unconscious then Jennie woke up in an entirely different world. Suddenly, her house is not her house, she's not married to L...
