you must've seen her

      * JENNIFER “JENNY” COHEN (cis woman, she/her, scarlett leithold) is TWENTY-FIVE and an INFLUENCER from MORRISTOWN, NEW JERSEY. they are known as THE COQUETTE because they are MAGNETIC, but if things kick off, they can be a bit TWO-FACED. they’re BISEXUAL and describe their type as EMOTIONALLY UNAVAILABLE. from their time in the villa, they’re hoping to find LOVE. (dancing like everyone’s watching, the cheeky strap of an exposed g-string, using your ring finger to tap slightly-too-dark concealer over a series of hickies)

NAME: jennifer marie cohen.   NICKNAMES:  jenny. jen. cohen.     AGE: twenty five. GENDER & PRONOUNS: cis woman, she/her.   OCCUPATION:  content creator on youtube, instagram and tiktok ( mostly grwm, review hauls, vlogging, and makeup/skincare tutorials. recently branched into adult content which you can find in her linktree)  ZODIAC: cancer sun, leo moon, scorpio rising.   TATTOOS: a couple of butterflies on her wrist, cherries on her ass hip, the silhouette of new jersey on her ankle, some tiny sparkles on her hip, and a rose that curls under her right boob PIERCINGS: several ear piercings per ear, her bellybutton, and her right nipple (aka her party boob) 

PINTEREST | BIO (under construction) 

– NAOMI CATCHES JENNY’S EYE WHEN SHE ASKS. mostly, naomi’s trying to detect if there’s any smugness there, her own facial features relaxing slightly when she can’t find any sharpness in jenny’s. “ yeah, ” she admits, “ feels like someone’s waiting for me to kick off, and honestly, i kind of want to. ” hard not to want to throw hands with producers from last night to today. if she was jenny, maybe she would lean into the irrationality instead of fighting it. maybe it would feel good, not to overanalyze every possible consequence and just do something. “ jenny, ” naomi’s tone comes out like an exasperated sigh, nails pressed into her palm as she fights the urge to literally facepalm. she wishes layla were here, someone experienced in explaining social conflicts to kindergarteners. “ yes, okay. charlene was mean, it was a hurtful thing to say. but you were mean, too. just because you were upset doesn’t change the fact that it was mean to call, like, half the group’s opinion dumb – and right in front of miles and santiago, who just got the hideaway. even if you don’t give a shit about anyone else’s feelings, that doesn’t change that it was mean, ” naomi points out. ‘cause frankly she doesn’t care about miles or santiago or whatever argument people have for actually voting for them either, but, “ – and charlene reacted to that. you can call everyone else out, but she can’t call you out ? and at this point, the perspective you’re pushing is more than hypocritical. now you’re calling a black girl aggressive and harsh over a confrontation that you started, ” naomi explains, “ there’s nothing ‘nice’ about that. ”

naomi presses her lips together, eyeing jenny for a beat before she closes the door of the fridge. honestly, jenny’s not attacking her – she’s coming off pretty defensive, like she’s trying to get naomi to understand her position, so naomi’s also making an attempt to give it to her straight up. “ it wasn’t a fuck you. honestly, i don’t even think it was about you. like, you voted for a couple that got the hideaway two fucking days ago, because they’re your friends. just like everyone else did. not because they were all personally trying to stick it to you or something. like, get out of your own fucking head for one second, ” naomi explains in lieu of jenny’s ‘fucking ouch.’ maybe not very gently, but honestly, for all the stress naomi puts herself through overanalyzing things, she thinks it must be rough jenny’s brain, where everyone and everything is out to get you. “ my opinion ? if i were you i’d lay off this one. you’ve got to learn to pick your battles, ” because jenny does have a habit of choosing all of them, “ ‘cause if this is really the hill you want to die on, you’re even more dumb than i thought. ” 

“is there even a lot to say? like, he had options this whole show. literal options, so it’s not like you and him were just thrown together and he never had the chance to like, test the waters with anyone else. he had people to choose from and actively chose you.” jenny would think that’d be flattering. that regardless of what his dick was up to when they technically weren’t even together—he was coupled up with jenny during casa, lest anyone forget—he wants to be with naomi. adela had basically confirmed in no uncertain terms that it was naomi he’d spent all of casa waxing poetic about, not jenny, so what does it really matter if a girl he slept with once and unceremoniously dumped immediately after is back in the picture? if anything, jenny would think adela should be the lingering thorn in their relationship, but she’s not about to say that. nor will she point out how interesting it is that josh likes to indulge the hyper-emotional types whenever things are looking settled with naomi. then again, maybe she should be worried. 

it’s hard not to be at odds with jenny when she has her own guard up so fiercely, forever burned by the fact she wanted them to be friends in here that she’d repel any attempt at solace, would cut off her nose to spite her face every damn time instead of ever bringing her walls back down. she knows jenny is reactive, so the fact she just shrugs off adela’s bluntness is louder than any shriek or groan the other could give. it forces her to consider that the blonde was just checking in on her, despising how it feels so pitiful. that, out of everyone, jenny is the one who actually gives a fuck. “ i feel like it came out of nowhere as well, “ adela agrees with a nod, suddenly not as fond as eden as she thought she was purely from her bias toward frankie. it’s not eden’s fault, and it does make adela wonder if she’s being anti-feminist or something, but she can’t help it. she feels even extra protective of frankie now that she’s not here.  “ well, they weren’t like together-together so i guess it’s okay, right ? ” her tone drips with a hint of theatrics with her sarcasm, feeling like it’s pretty ridiculous given how set miles and frankie seemed to her. “ you’d think that in that situation miles would wake up, and if he really really wanted to be with her then he’d go with her. maybe he saw it as a quick out from everything… but like, even if they had shit going on, he’s not gonna find anything like that with anyone else here and he’s literally just thrown it away. ” though maybe miles knows that and just doesn’t care. maybe he didn’t give a damn about frankie at all !  “ goes to show, though, that even the guys you think you can trust just ain’t shit. ” she clicks her tongue, head shaking with the annoyance that she knows how much frankie wanted him to leave with her. 

– “OKAY, FINE,” NAOMI SHRUGS IT OFF, “ i guess i’m just a little on edge. ” there’s a moment where her eyes dart off across the villa, shoulders slightly less boxy. a little more vulnerable, but it’s hard to level with jenny when she brings it back around. if jenny wants to address last night with her, then fine. as long as she doesn’t leave yet another confrontation in tears ( though naomi wouldn’t bet on it. ) she sets the bottle down on the counter, “ i didn’t say you did anything wrong, i just thought jude calling charlene too aggressive while standing up for your take was a really fucking bad look, that’s why i said something, ” naomi explains, hoping she doesn’t need to spell it out. “ share your opinion as loudly as you want, that’s kind of how it goes in here, but be able to take the heat. that’s all i meant by that. ” 

          jude can feel jenny getting more rattled by the second. he can see the visual metaphor in his camera brain, the getaway scene of a movie ; anger darting about the room intercut with a bullet shot like a ping pong ball between gas canisters in a warehouse, their whistling holes a monsters inc scream tester set to full sensitivity. he should be compassionate, should be doing everything in his power to cool her down, slow her roll, remind her of what she has to be grateful rather than the elusive promise of a night alone, but there’s only so much back-rubbing and there-there-ing he can do before it starts to feel redundant. “ i fuckin’ like you ! ”  jude fires back, firm line etched between his brow, hands dropping from her waist to whip through the air. so much for attempting to distract her. “ i like you. why does it matter what other people think ? ”  bold words coming from a guy who can’t divorce himself from other people’s opinions of him, whose always framing himself through the lens of what ‘the boys’ must think, whether it’s the ones in the villa or the ones back home. but the truth is, it does matter — relationships in here are everything, and not just the romantic ones. the people in here are the difference between safety and a flight home, so it’s natural to worry about what they think.  

“ look. i get it. i do. ”  he’s still pacing a little, though he slows to look at her, meeting her gaze head on.  “ i get mad stressed, too, thinking about who hates us and shit. about the bridges i’m burning to keep us afloat. ”  josh, miles, charlene, adela, naomi. all of them felt like they could’ve been jude’s mates, but the jenny of it all makes it difficult. it’s weird, because even though his behaviour those first few days of casa was objectively shitty, it feels like as soon as he’s got his act together, nobody wants to be his friend any more. it’s not fair to blame that on jenny, but she’s definitely partially responsible.  “ obviously, i want us to have friends and that. i want you to have people you can talk to about shit that aren’t just me and angel. but like… ultimately, it doesn’t matter. ”  because ultimately, mates aren’t what they came here for. maybe his heart wasn’t in the right place when he came in — not for love, but to fuck about and have a fun summer, which he’s done — but he also came here to get over lana, and since coupling up with jenny, it feels like he’s barely even thought about his ex. jenny’s completely eclipsed her, eclipsed everyone who came before her, to the point where if she told him she wanted out, he’d up and run with her this second.  “ in a few days we’ll probably be all back at home with our mums anyway, and it won’t matter who liked who. it’ll be irrelevant. so just… try and keep a level head til then. ”

           jude closes the distance between them, taking her face in his hands, planting a kiss on her forehead, on the tip of her nose, and finally one on her lips, like some weird sign of the cross like his mam does every time they pass a catholic church.  “ don’t be daft, you silly mare. ‘course i don’t regret it. ”  she talks about costing him this thing like they even had a shot at winning in the first place. day-by-day it feels like they’re coasting, clinging by the skin of their teeth to a shot at the final, but the closer they get to it the less he actually cares. “ i mean, yeah, maybe at one point i thought i wanted to win this thing. buy my mam a new house so she can stop havin’ to pack up forty-eight years of her life into boxes every nine months, just gettin’ shifted wherever the council put her. like, yeah, it would be sweet if i could do that, and got to travel and shit, or buy an actual car instead of pootling about on the fuckin’ vespa. the money would be great. but that’s not what’s important. ”  he tucks a soggy lock of hair behind her ear, not stopping to question if it’s snot or tears ( he doesn’t really care at this point ) and bops his finger against the end of her nose.   “ this is what’s important, jen. ”  maybe it’s true that being with her has made his time in here harder than it would’ve been if he were with someone else, but he doesn’t want his time in here if it’s not with jenny. “ at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter if you’ve cost me this experience or not. ‘cos the way i see it, i’ve already won. alright ? ”

once her emotions start storming like this, fighting them is trying to swim upstream during a hurricane. it’s easier to hang her head and ride it out to the messy aftermath, or better yet, avoid letting herself go there in the first place. now she’s halfway deep, fiercely clinging to each word out of jude’s mouth with a white-knuckled grip to keep from spiraling any further. there are things he says that don’t land quite right and gnaw deeper into her insecurities—acknowledgments that he’s been dwelling on her same fears that she’s costing him friends and making his experience here a constant challenge. but even when she’s shrinking away, he’s fighting for her. he’s looking at her and the raw frustration pouring into each declaration that he does fucking care is her anxious equivalent of sucking on a lemon wedge or pressing ice to her chest. it shocks her nervous system back, steadies her heartbeat, and scoops up the voice in her head to kiss it calm. for a minute her mind feels entirely blank, like she got a little lost in the rewiring, but then she comes back, blinking dumbly at jude and beginning to feel every bit as silly as everyone thought. she’s still disappointed that they didn’t get the hideaway and a bit angry at everyone for it, but it’s manageable, not tangled up with every single fear she has about their relationship and her own worth. 

“ but you don’t like me, so you must realise this all seems fucking fake as shit ? ” she questions, curious, really, as to if she feels differently. adela would rather someone stab her in her chest than be fake, especially when it’s so obviously so. frenemies are a bit different of course, but her and jenny haven’t worked out the fr part of that yet. “ yeah, though… “ she just doesn’t get him right now. her lips tuck into her teeth, umming and ahing on just how into everything she’ll get with jenny. the fact it is jenny is the only thing holding her back. they have no unsaid trust or confidentiality between them, more the opposite, so anything she says is more than likely going to come and bite her back. she couldn’t be surprised if it did, it’d be like letting a starving lion out from it’s cage and then wondering how you became the meal. “ i think he might just need some space today. ” she finally settles on instead, a shrug bopping from her shoulders like it’s that simple. she won’t give jenny the satisfaction of revealing that, yes, she’s certain frankie was freaking out, but it does allow her a moment to realise that they might be on the same page about it, her previous reservations suddenly a little weak with the chance to gossip.  “ right ? i dunno, if that were me… i would not have gone quietly. especially if dylan didn’t come with me. fuck that. ” she shakes her head, brows furrowed in a mix of all her feelings. “ and now he’s just gonna crack on with eden. ” 

        jude’s met so many versions of jenny since the two of them coupled up, the jenny that’s a hard drinker, the jenny that dances on tables, the jenny that’ll never back down in argument and gets vicious like a dog when the people she cares about are threatened. despite her tears, and the way she folds herself inwards, the jenny that’s in front of him is one of the jenny’s he likes best, her willingness to be vulnerable with him an unsaid acknowledgement that she’s no longer scared for him to see her stripped back and laid bare. he feels a twist like a linchpin, a shift in the air the second before she starts crying, and jude’s dropping the pillow onto the floor, arms extended as he closes the distance between them, and she tucks herself into him.  “ hey… it’s cool, jen. you’re allowed to be upset. ”  he’s never really sure if he’s saying the right thing, but his body never seems to worry about what to do, one hand pressed against the small of her back, the other stroking over her hair.  “it’s not stupid. it’s fuckin’… important to you, okay. who the fuck cares if it feels small ?  if it matters to you then it’s not stupid. ” jude draws her closer in his arms, head cradled in the crook of his elbow, rocking her side to side like a small child with a scabbed knee. the role of the comforter isn’t foreign to jude, as rough as his exterior may seem. he’s got sisters, and he’s just as likely to wipe their tears and bandage their wounds as he is to accidentally cause them when roughhousing goes too far.

        “ fuck off, jen, ”  he exhales, astonished, although it’s said with affection.  “ nobody hates you. they’re just mardy and bitter. ”  and quick to point the finger at an easy scapegoat.  “ and if anybody does hate ya’ — which they don’t — then they’re not worth wasting a thought on. other people’s opinions don’t make you, jen, alright. opinions are like arseholes. everybody’s got one, they all fuckin’ stink, so… chin up. don’t let it spoil our night. besides…” jude’s hands slide from her arms down to her hips, backing her towards the tent, a confidence that radiates from him as he tugs her closer by his shirt, half-smile pulling on his lips.  “ we’ve got a room to ourselves. these lights might not be neon, but you can pretend like they are. i can stick my arms up in the air and you can do a sexy little routine around me if you want. honestly, fuck the hideaway, we’ve got our own hidden-in-plain-sight away. ”

“they do,” she insists, the words garbled by his shoulder. “it’s my fault we didn’t get the hideaway and it’s my fault they think we’re a joke and it’s gonna be my fault when we get dumped. they don’t like me, jude. none of them like me and it’s not fair that, like...” she pauses, half to focus on stringing her thoughts together in a coherent sentence and half because her breath won’t stop hitching in a series of involuntary gasps, all ragged and shallow. she just about has a handle on it when she’s crumbling all over again, stepping back so he can see her in her full, pathetic glory. “like... you bet on the wrong horse! i’m dead fucking weight.” mimi had said that to naomi once about josh. shouted it, really, during her whirlwind exit, and something about it must’ve stuck because she’s thought of it several times since. her eyes don’t leave his, even as her vision blurs, then clears again like the ebb and flow of the tides with each fresh round of tears, falling faster than she can swat them away. “i’m gonna cost you this whole thing, jude, and it’s not fair. like, i don’t— i don’t know what’s wrong with me or why i can’t just be, like—” another gasp, bunches of them turning her monologue rhythmic and desperate, “—why i can’t just be like, a normal fucking person that gets along with everyone or why i ‘stir shit’ all the time and like, get so fucking emotional.” 

starter for jenny. ( @blondcs​ )

where:kitchen

when:day 42

– NAOMI’S HAD SUCH A CHILLED FEW DAYS, she can’t help but think whatever bad karma she racked up earlier in the season has really bit her in the ass. on edge now, with the news of bombshells from christmas past, she can’t help but feel a little like everyone’s out to get her this afternoon ( particularly the people in charge. ) there’s a reason she has a policy of not getting her hopes up, feels stupid about breaking her own rules. when she pulls the orange juice out of the fridge, she drinks it straight from the bottle, mid-sip when she catches eyes with the blonde. she lowers it slightly, “ what ? ” she asks. the previous night was a nothing argument to her, usual antics. while naomi vibes with adela, she does find whatever beef she has with jenny to be kind of silly, like it’s pale in comparison to her own storied history with the blonde. or maybe she’s just feeling replaced. either way, if jenny was harboring something over last night’s spat, she’s got every reason to feel fucking smug today – and that makes naomi bristle. “ if you’ve got something to say to me, go ahead. it’s not good to bottle things up, cheryl says. ”

location :  living room

time :   evening, day 41

featuring :   jenny / @blondcs​

       jude’s in the process of decking out the living room with pillows and fairy lights and all that shit. he’s raided the laundry hamper already, managed to secure some spare sheets to the ceiling light, the sides fanning down like an impromptu tent. it was mostly angel’s idea. give jenny something else to focus on to divert the anger. still, it’s pretty fucking cute, even if it is mega cringe. he’s not seen her for a bit, assumes she’s gone to brush her teeth after the fall out, so when she wanders through the door he’s immediately turning his body towards her, a scatter cushion half suspended in the air, not sure what to do with his hands.  “ hiya, chicken… ” he starts, uncertainly, scanning her face for any sign of tears, or lingering frustration.  “ can we talk about what happened at the fire pit ? ”

the instant her anger wavered, the tears pushed in as they always do, slightly more hysterical than they maybe ought to have been over a night in a tacky, neon bedroom. but it’s not just about that. it’s the fact that she can’t remember one season where a freshly official couple didn’t get the privilege of some alone time. it’s about how they were the obvious choice to go, next in line after the other strong couples who’d gotten their turns, but everyone voted in fucking miles and santiago instead, a couple that formed that day because miles couldn’t be fucked to shorten his vacation. and why? because they hate her so much that instead of getting her out of their hair for a few hours they’d rather torture her? they all know she’s been dying for the hideaway—it’s a popular joke in the communal bedroom among the rustling sheets and muffled moans from the jennifer & jude bed and the symphony of half-amused, half-annoyed groans from the peanut gallery. is she so awful they couldn’t stomach giving her that win? and now jude’s stuck suffering for her shortcomings. where’s the fairness in that? she’d just barely managed to get a wrangle on her emotions when angel poked his head into the bathroom to request her presence downstairs—that jude had something special planned that would save the night, but she can’t help but feel like she’s already ruined it. 

honestly, the question makes her feel a little nauseous considering it’s coming from jenny. she almost wishes the words felt more venomous, that they had more of a stab to them instead of what she’s sure she’s misinterpreting as some kind of softness. she must be imagining it, unsure she believes jenny could be genuine right now, instead silently laughing at adela being upset. like somehow the blonde checking up on her is actually an insult rather than anything else. “ you don’t have to act like you care, ” adela points out defensively, and roles reversed she would not be checking up on jenny. she is fine though, albeit upset, still in a state of shock despite the quietness of the villa confirming frankie’s absence every time she thinks about it being some joke or prank. “ it is what it is. ”  

when: day 41 / morning

who: jenny & angel

when: day 41

who: jenny & adela

– “YEAH, THAT REALLY SOUNDS LIKE FRANKIE,” MILES LAUGHS,“ she’s more likely to fuck with you than rat me out, y’know. ” he does genuinely believe that’s true. so, odds are, jenny’s not got shit on him. “ hey, you shouldn’t joke about that. i mean, you’re lucky i’m cool, but – you could get cancelled on twitter for joking about a potato shortage to the irish man, for sure. especially considering ’ve done nothing wrong. ”

“ YOU’RE PRETTY SURE WHAT ? ”   she prompts, knowing that jenny always needs at least a few more questions asked before she’ll finally tell her what’s on her mind. that is, if she wants to share at all. callie hates when jenny it’s fine’s her, and not just because she knows that trick all too well. but if she wants to move the conversation to something else, god knows she’ll let her.   “ your doom, ”   she echoes, snorting.   “ it’s a date, not someone coming in to murder you. don’t put so much pressure on it. let the bloke compliment you for an hour, and then just come back to jude. ”   jenny not wanting to go on a date with a new, very likely smokin’ guy kind of feels like a parallel universe, but callie is eating it up with a grin, knowing that just means that her and jude are really solid.   “ what kind of dirty details to you want ?   i forgot to bring the ruler last night, to measure his d*ck for you. ”   since she was asked that the day before. 

jenny gnaws down on her lip, finding distraction in a little flake of skin she tries to peel off with her teeth, sucking up her lipgloss in the process. “like...” it puts up a fight too, leaving a speck of blood behind when she finally tears it free that she can taste along her tongue. probably should’ve left it well enough alone. how apropos. “i asked him if he wanted to kind of lock things down a little and he was basically like no, so...” she pokes a finger to her lip but it comes back clean, so it’s not really bleeding. just tender where she pushed it a little too far. “i dunno. there was kind of a lot going on in the moment and like, the conversation didn’t go exactly like that, but that’s basically the long and short of it. and like, the more i think about it the stupider i feel, you know? like, why the fuck did i say that?” her eyes find callie’s, half pleading and half bewildered that she could’ve fucked up this badly. “i never say shit like that. like, i literally try so hard not to be the ‘what are we’ girl, and now like... it’s not like i can take it back,” her shoulders shrug, something frazzled in her expression like you can see her fraying and coming undone in real time. “it’s all just out there now, and i’m like, nervous i read everything completely wrong, you know? because he says he just needs more time, but...” she stops suddenly, head tipping back with a groan, “god that sounds so bad out loud, doesn’t it?” it pops up just as quickly, frantically looking to callie for answers, advice, a nod maybe or, even better, a gentle but firm shake of her ‘no,’ that she’s just spiralling and needs to calm down. “what if it’s giving ‘i’m not looking for anything right now’ because everyone know that means ‘i’m not looking for anything with you.’” she’s done the whole situationship thing a million times—is that what this is?