It took a single day of interviews for Jensen to invest in another pregnancy pillow so she'd have something to look forward to when she got back to her hotel. And it took five days after that for Jensen to be done with interviews and wanting to be home.

            Naturally, Jensen was still early for her makeup artist on her seventh day straight of interviews.

            "How are we feeling this fine morning?" Scott asked, handing Jensen a to-go cup. It was their morning ritual. Scott would bring drinks—usually coffee for himself and something fruity and cold for Jensen—and ask her how she felt. Jensen had half a feeling it was because he knew what his now-ex-wife had gone through when she was pregnant with their son.

            Jensen, who hadn't done her hair or her makeup, looked up at him from her seat. "I'm so looking forward to not talking about the film again."

            "Maybe today will be different."

            Scott's optimism annoyed Jensen's pessimism to no end. Maybe one day of interviews, he'd be right. But it would be a different film, different cast. Jensen wouldn't have a child inside her. And the press would have to do a complete rebrand. Her hopes weren't high.

            "Maybe today—" Jensen took a sip of her drink as her makeup artist walked in. "—will be exactly the same."

            Makeup didn't take long. The tour assigned makeup artist wasn't like Lori from Legendary. She wasn't there to make friends, she was there to get the job done. Quickly. And Jensen's hair was usually left with her natural curls, so Scott usually spent more time in the chair than she did while they tied his hair back neatly. Her yellow blazer, maxi-dress, and sneakers were almost guaranteed to go with the subtle makeup Jensen had requested.

            "Come on, Jensen," Scott said as they were led to a room where their interviews would be for the day. "What's the worst that can happen?"

            Scott would ask that everyday too.

            And everyday his question would get answered. It wasn't that Jensen didn't want Scott to be right. Quite the opposite, actually. But he never was.

            The first interview started off smoothly. And by smoothly, Jensen really meant that the questions were the same ones reporters always asked about the film. Although it got increasingly repetitive when reporters asked questions—how did it feel taking on such a big project? Is this film the start of a franchise? How do you feel about being banned in countries for the gay romance?—Jensen preferred it over the other options.

            Which was all the next few interviewers seemed to care about. The interviewer had walked in and greeted them, pleasant enough. But as soon as he sat down, Jensen instantly wanted to take lunch.

            "Now, Miss Rhodes—"

            "Missus," Jensen said. Already the red flag waved in her brain. Loud and proud.

            "Right," the interviewer said, "Anyway. Can I ask, what was your diet like trying to fit into that tight catsuit?"

            Jensen frowned. Red flag number two. "It's not tight. I think it fits me fine."

            "But you must've had a special diet, exercise regime," he continued, "something to make sure it looked all right."

            "I found out I was pregnant about halfway through filming," Jensen said, folding her hands on her lap. There was a certain finger itching to flip itself to the interviewer. "So, I ate for two if that's what you're asking. Still am."

            "I ate a lot of steak," Scott said, "in case you want to know what my diet was. I wore a lot of tight jeans. Tight. Not fitting."

            The interviewer cleared his throat. "So, could you wear underwear in the costume? Given how tight it was?"

            "Excuse me?" Jensen asked. Did she have it in her to get up and walk away? Her ankles crossed and uncrossed, feet getting ready to move. She couldn't tell if planting them and standing her ground was worse than getting up and leaving. Both of them were going to get her crucified by the media, she knew. Was either one better than the other in their eyes?

            "You know," Scott said, "she wore things like flannel and jeans too. If you bothered to watch the movie."

            Jensen took a slow sip of her water. "Any other questions?"

            "You didn't answer my other one."

            "Not that it was at all appropriate in the first place," Jensen said, attempting to remain calm. "But I'm not required to answer any questions that I don't want to. For any reason that I deem fit for refusal. Any other questions?"

            "Do you think you're going to stay acting?" the interviewer asked.

            "Do you mean do I want to pursue other things?" Jensen asked.

            "Yeah, do you want to study and go back to school?" the interviewer continued. "Or pursue other fields in Hollywood?"

            "Are you implying I shouldn't act?"

            "Not necessarily—"

            "Because one, I have two masters and a bachelors degree on top of my PDP, so I don't think I need to go back to school any time soon," Jensen said. "And two, you probably know as well as I do how few women there are behind the camera, let alone women of colour, so how about you don't suggest I quit doing something that I love when you know that opportunities are not going to arise as often?"

            "Opportunities like what?"

            "Shitty reporters."

            "Miss Rhodes—"

            "Missus."

            "Missus Rhodes," the interviewer said, "another question—"

            "I don't think so," Jensen said. "We're done here."

            "Exit's that way," Scott said, pointing toward the door. "Hope we don't see you later."

            "I have a few more questions for you both," the interviewer said, "for my article."

            "How about you write an article about being a sexist pig," Scott said, "print it off, and shove it up your ass? Cool?"

            "There's no need for that," the interviewer started.

            "And there's no need for you to have asked disgusting questions," Scott said, "or for you to still be here. Looks like nobody's getting what they want today, huh?"

            The interviewer rose from his seat, looking at Jensen. If she could've removed that look from her memory instantly, she would've. It was nauseating.

            "You look tired," the interviewer said, "Missus Rhodes."

            "And you," Scott said, "look like someone who should get the fuck out of here. How about that?"

            The interviewer left without another word, or look, at Jensen.

            Scott turned to look at her. "Are you okay?"

            "Oh, fantastic," Jensen said. "Can't wait for weeks more of this."

            "Do you want to leave?" Scott asked. "For the day? As long as you want? Leave the continent entirely?"

            "Are you kidding? I love missing time away from my daughter for this bullshit. It's my favourite thing in the entire fucking world."

            "Jensen."

            "I'm going to the bathroom," Jensen said, pushing off her chair and standing up. "I will... I'll probably be back."

            "Take your time." Scott's eyebrows were knit together; a cocktail of anger and worry dressed his face.

            "Can you please take off the press box?" Jensen asked as she turned her back to Scott. Unclipping the microphone from the lapel of her blazer, Jensen placed it on her seat.

            Jensen didn't say a word as she walked out of the interview room, head on a swivel to locate the bathroom. She had been there various times throughout the week, but Jensen was more focused on the fact that her heart felt like it was going to pound out of her chest.

            Footsteps sounded behind her, Jensen continued walking.

            "Missus Rhodes?"

            Jensen attempted to keep her face as neutral as possible as she turned. "Hmm?"

            Blaine stopped walking. "I—um... if there's anything you need. Well. Let me know."

            Jensen nodded, running a hand up her bicep. "Thanks."

            "I..." Blaine started. "I'm sorry. For what happened."

            "Not your fault." Jensen swallowed hard. "If I'm not back in... in ten minutes. Can you please knock and I'll come back out?"

            Blaine nodded. "Of course."

            "Thanks."

            "Missus Rhodes?"

            "Yes?"

            "I'll give you twenty. Minutes. It's... you deserve the time you need."

            Jensen smiled softly. Probably too sad to be taken seriously. At least, she knew Miles would see right through it. Maybe she needed someone like him to call her out on it. Maybe she needed him.

            Making her way to the bathroom, Jensen let out a sigh as she closed the door behind her. She wanted to scream. Yell. Shout into the void that never answered back. If she was at her own house, she might've. Then again, if she were at home, she wouldn't have felt the way she did. Was that what the problem was? Probably. Jensen missed her family more than ever when the interviews were like that day.

            Hey, Jensen wrote as she leaned the small of her back against the counter. I know it's late. Too late. Probably. I don't know. But can we talk? In the morning is okay. Your morning. Proper morning. Not what it is now. I feel... disgusting. Disgusted. It would be nice to hear your voice. Properly. Whenever you're awake.

            Jensen pressed the send button and bit her thumb. Stuffed her phone back in the pocket of her blazer. Spinning on her heel, she ran the water from the tap and stuck her hands in. Although it felt sandier than the water in Vancouver, Jensen needed something to feel.

            Her phone started buzzing. Loudly. Frequently. Too often for texts to be coming in. She looked around quickly, but ended up drying her hands on her dress and reached into her pocket.

            Miles' smiling face took up her screen, along with the urge for her to slide and answer. Which Jensen did. Without hesitation.

            "Hello?"

            "Hey." Jensen almost hung up when she heard the sleep dressing Miles' voice. "What's going on?"

            "I'm sorry," Jensen said as she twisted the hoop in her nostril. "It's early. I shouldn't have—"

            "Please don't finish that sentence," Miles said. Jensen could hear him shift in bed, she assumed he was sitting up. His voice sounded clearer when he spoke again. "I'm here. Now."

            "It's, like, four in the morning—"

            "Jensen," Miles said. "Talk to me."

            Jensen pressed her knuckles against her lips. A desperate attempt to not let out everything that had happened at the interview. Saying it out loud, she realized, made her more upset than keeping it internalized. She wanted to scrape her skin off.

            "I might cry if I do," Jensen said. She despised how her voice broke on the last word. No matter how hard she had tried to keep her voice from crumbling.

            "Breathe," Miles said. They both took deep breaths in. Together. "We can talk later if you want."

            "Is that okay?" Jensen bit her thumb. Forearms rested on top of her stomach.

            "I don't wake up at four in the morning for just anyone, Rhodes," Miles said. She heard him yawn—soft enough she could tell he was attempting to cover it up. Jensen winced. "Whatever you want to do is fine by me."

            "You should go back to sleep." Jensen pressed her hand against her stomach as she felt their baby kick her ribcage. She bit her lip to keep from cursing as she rubbed the point of impact as best she could.

            "Not until I know you're okay. At least for the moment."

            "I thought you were going to get the text in the morning."

            "It is morning." Jensen could hear the smile on his voice. "For both of us."

            "Proper morning. Not the early hours."

            "Remember that thing I said twice," Miles said, "about in sickness and in health?"

            Jensen smiled softly. "Don't think I have any recollection of that."

            "No?" Miles asked. "Mentioned something like 'til death do us part?"

            "Not ringing any bells," Jensen said. "No."

            "Well—" Miles yawned again. "Long story short, I'd do anything for you. It doesn't matter what hour in the morning it is."

            "Babe?"

            "Yeah?"

            "Go back to bed," Jensen said. "Please."

            "Only if you're okay," Miles said.

            "I'm okay enough," Jensen said. "Thank you."

            "Rocky's getting her ears pierced tomorrow," Miles said. Likely because he didn't believe her and wanted to keep her on the line. Jensen wasn't sure she believed herself either, so she didn't blame him. "Or... I mean, today."

            Jensen smiled despite the pang in her chest. "Is she excited?"

            "Ecstatic."

            "Can you..." Jensen paused. "Never mind. It's stupid."

            "What do you need?" Another yawn. Miles let out a small laugh. "And don't say for me to go to sleep. I promise I will."

            "Can you send a video?" Jensen asked. "When she gets it done?"

            "Of course I can," Miles said. "Are you sure you don't want us to wait? I can be the bad guy if you need me to be."

            "No, no," Jensen said. "I... I miss her. And you. A lot."

            "We miss you too," Miles said. "Speaking of, I do have a request."

            "What's that?"

            "Rocky's having trouble sleeping some nights. Any chance you could record yourself singing a song for her and send it here? I think it would help."

            Jensen almost let tears build up in her eyes. "Yeah. I can do that."

            "It can be Twinkle Twinkle Little Star for all she cares," Miles said. "Just something she can look forward to listening to at night would be great. Something with your voice."

            "I'll do it as soon as I get back to my hotel."

            "Take your time," Miles said. "She's going to have all those endorphins pumping through her little head after the piercings, she can last until tomorrow."

            "Today."

            "Today."

            "Can I call?" Jensen asked. "Later, I mean. After everything's done? On video?"

            "Absolutely," Miles said. "All we have today is her appointment. Noon our time."

            "Okay."

            "Oh, she thinks you don't know," Miles said. "about her ears. Can't wait to show you."

            "Best acting performance of my life, coming soon," Jensen said, smiling.

            Miles let out a soft laugh. "Can't wait."

            Jensen pressed her lips together for a moment. "Miles?"

            "I'm here."

            "Thank you for calling."

            "That's what I'm here for."

            "I should get back," Jensen said. Because if she didn't say it out loud, she likely could've kept talking to Miles for the rest of the press tour.

            "Jensen?" Miles said. Softly.

            "Yeah?"

            "Whatever happened in there," Miles said, "you're not whatever their shitty angle is."

            Jensen swallowed hard. But tried to smile through it. "Mhmm."

            "Jensen," Miles said, "Never in my life have I lied to you and I'm not starting now."

            "Okay." Jensen's voice was low. Part of her wanted nothing more than for him to sleep. The other part didn't want to skip out on the rest of her interviews for the day and keep talking to him.

            "You aren't whatever they're saying," Miles said, "they're just shitty reporters."

            Jensen laughed weakly. "Yeah, I told him that."

            "I love you so much." Miles laughed, too. A little stronger than Jensen's but quiet. "You got this, okay? Call me any time. Whenever you need me. I'm here."

            "I love you," Jensen said, "thank you."

            "I'm going to hang up now," Miles said, "if you're okay."

            Jensen bit her thumb again. "I'm okay."

            "Are you sure?"

            "Mostly."

            "Call me if you need me."

            "I will."

            "I love you."

            "I love you, too."

            "I'm going to hang up now."

            "Okay."

            "Goodbye."

            "Sleep well."

            "I will. Talk to you later."

            "Bye," Jensen said as the call ended. She pocketed her phone again.

            She took a couple deep breaths and turned back toward the sink. Washing her hands, she took her time with them under cold water. Simple grounding, but grounding enough. Focusing on her breathing was about all she could do to keep herself from losing it.

            Her heartbeat wasn't as loud. There was still a foot in her ribs, but she could deal with that. She didn't feel like she was floating away from the world anymore. Another breath.

            Her phone buzzed. Jensen dried her hands quickly and pulled it back out. (At one point of her trip, she'd find an air dryer.)

            world's best bedhead award? Another buzz as a photo came in.

            Jensen unlocked her phone to a picture of Miles standing in front of their bathroom mirror. Pyjama bottoms on, hair sticking up in every direction imaginable. Jensen laughed softly.

            Did you text me purely to send a shirtless photo of yourself?

            maybe. Too many kissing emojis.

            Jensen laughed and pocketed her phone. She looked at herself in the mirror. Right in the eyes. And nodded.

            She could do this.

            Taking one last deep breath, Jensen walked out of the bathroom. Nearly into Blaine.

            "Sorry," Jensen said.

            "No problem," Blaine said. "Everything okay?"

            "It's..." Jensen pursed her lips slightly as she chose her words. "It's better than it was before."

            "That's good."

            Jensen and Blaine walked back to the interview room. Everyone was stood up, talking. Jensen wished she didn't know it was about her. As if it wasn't obvious when the talking died down the moment she stepped into the room.

            Jensen drew in a deep breath. "Sorry. About that. Um."

            Scott walked up to her. "Are you okay?"

            Jensen nodded.

            A voice behind them said, "We've got CineNews next."

            Scott looked over his shoulder and back to Jensen. "Are you ready?"