As much as Jensen despised early auditions—rather, Jensen hated how her anxiety spiked because of auditions and hated mornings in general—she didn't feel as bad walking into Studio E when she knew that Keira would be there. (Was that fear of the unknown or anxiety?) (Was it both?) It was the first time in a long time, first time in ever, that Jensen didn't feel like her heart was going to beat out of her chest. That could've been in part because Keira had insisted she wear "something comfortable" and as a result, Jensen was wearing sneakers she'd owned for five years.

            "Hi, um." Jensen walked up to where someone had a sign in sheet and a stack of scripts. "Jensen Rhodes. Here for 1999."

            Even saying the title made her excited. 1999, a coming of age. Jensen's role was a guidance counsellor; back to her school roots. She could've kissed Keira for giving her the role. Even if she didn't know who else was in the film, which sometimes led to many more nerves, Jensen was content with 1999. She trusted Keira's judgement and she trusted that Keira knew her limits.

            "Missus Rhodes, awesome to see you," the person said, smiling kindly. "I just need you to sign in and then you can head right in."

            Jensen smiled and took a pen from them, signing her name quickly. "Thank you."

            "Anytime." Flipping through scripts, they pulled one out with Jensen's name printed across it. "Here."

            Jensen took the script from them, muttered a small thanks, and walked into the room. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in a breath. Refreshing.

            "Jensen!" a voice called from beside her.

            Jensen turned and her eyes widened. "Oh my God!"

            "Hi!" The young blonde girl ran over to Jensen and hugged her. It was almost shocking how much taller she was than the last time Jensen had seen her. Which had been at Jensen's wedding, because she needed a flower girl. (Is that what four years and entering teens did?) (Jensen was not ready for that with Rocky and Beckett—and likely never would be.)

            "Holly!" Jensen hugged her back before pulling away. "How are you?"

            "I'm great," Holly said, pushing a strand of hair that had escaped her French braids. "Congratulations on Ben!"

            "Thank you!" Jensen said. She leaned in close and whispered, "You can call him Beckett."

            Holly smiled softly. The kind of plucky kid smile that was like she was trying not to but it still broke through anyway. "Beckett's a good name."

            Jensen nodded. "We thought so too."

            "I'm so excited you're on this project," Holly said. "I got a little nervous signing."

            "Academy Award Winner Holly Seacrest was nervous?" Jensen nudged her with an elbow gently.

            Holly smiled shyly. "Leaving LA was scary. Whole new world."

            "For what it's worth," Jensen said, "leaving here to film turned into the best decision of my life. You've got good things coming."

            "Can you help me with my English homework on set?" Holly asked. "I can't understand Shakespeare no matter how hard I try."

            Jensen laughed. "Aye."

            "Thanks," Holly said with a small smile.

            "Jensen!"

            Jensen was going to cry if she kept turning and seeing familiar faces. "Grace?"

            "Hi!" Grace ran over and hugged Jensen tightly. Followed closely by Keira, calm and composed as ever, but a crack of a smile pulling at her red-stained lips. "God, you didn't think I'd let Keira make the trip out here by herself, did you? We're in Rhodes territory!"

            "And you're welcome anytime," Jensen said when she pulled away.

            "Back where we started, eh?" Keira said.

            When Keira hugged, it was a couple taps on a shoulder and not much else. Not because Keira didn't care, but because she was nothing if not professional. Grace's hugs squeezed tight enough to make a happy imprint on the soul. Keira was the opposite. And somehow, they were both made Jensen feel like she belonged. Like she was where she was meant to be.

            "Last time I saw you close enough to kiss me," Keira said, pointing a finger at Jensen, "you were getting married."

            "I was," Jensen said. Her smile made her cheeks ache. She was happy enough that she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and it didn't stress her out—she didn't even want to read it, she felt too at ease.

            Keira quirked her pierced eyebrow and gazed over her glasses. "Good to see you."

            "And you," Jensen said.

            "And surprise," Keira said, holding her hands out to Holly. A smile almost cracked before she pulled her business face back on. "Thought some familiar faces would be nice."

            Jensen nodded. "Definitely. Thank you. For this."

            "I told you six years ago that I had your back in Hollywood." Keira smiled. Finally. "I stick to my word."

            Jensen hugged Keira again. Earning herself a couple pats on the back again. Her phone vibrated again. Which she could deal with after her table read. She let out a deep breath after she let go of Keira, staring down at the script in her hands. Smiling. Wide. Aching cheeks kind of wide.

            Jensen was going to be okay.

            Holly and Jensen stayed off to the side while other cast and crew members mingled throughout the room. Eventually, Keira called for them to sit down so they could start the reading. Always one to start things in the morning and finish them before noon. She hadn't changed.

            The table read went well. Jensen felt comfortable and, dare she think it, confident. It felt like she was where she was supposed to be and that something had aligned to make her feel that way. Each word she read felt made for her. (Which it kind of was.) (Jensen still let the tension in her shoulders release as she relaxed into her chair.)

            1999 was, as all Keira Lim films were, absolutely incredible. Holly played a character trying to navigate high school when it felt like the world was against her. Jensen was the counsellor Holly came to who validated her feelings and gave her company on the bad days. Of course Holly's character lashed out at one point, feeling like nothing would ever feel normal again because high school wasn't normal, before there was a resolution and Jensen made sure she knew that she wasn't alone. Extremely coming of age, and Jensen loved every moment of it.

            After the final line of the script was read, a voiceover by Holly's character about life and how she didn't know what was going to happen next but she looked forward to it, the cast applauded. The actors playing Holly's family whistled, cheers came from the crew, and the smile that made Jensen's cheeks ache returned.

            That was why she acted. Jensen needed a moment. A confirmation that she was doing the right thing. That she was meant to be there.

            The small smile that Holly shot her was confirmation enough. Jensen hugged her tightly.

            "This is going to be great," Holly said.

            Jensen had to agree.

            "All right, team, Keira said, standing up from her chair. "Great work! That was fantastic and I love the energy this room has. I'm looking forward to working with every single one of you."

            The room erupted in cheers and claps, Jensen let out a whoop.

            "To thank you all for being here, I've got catering being set up in the board room beside ours, help yourselves and if you'd like to mingle, please do so," Keira said, "or if you're like me and have children, then nap time and tutor pick up is on the menu for you."

            Scattered laughs made Keira smile.

            "Great work today, everyone," Keira said. "Here's to making movies."

            A couple more cheers and then the room began to disperse.

            Jensen looked at Holly. "Maybe they'll have skittles."

            Holly laughed. "Sour skittles really are the best thing in the world."

            Jensen smiled and got up from her chair.

            "Are you staying to eat?" Holly asked.

            Jensen shook her head. "I've got a baby to feed and a toddler to nap."

            Holly smiled. "Have fun."

            "I'll see you soon, kid," Jensen said.

            Holly waved as Jensen headed out. Passed by trays of finger sandwiches and bottles of water. Hot pastas and soups, cold salads and antipasto trays. Studio E had never been a breath of fresh air—more like air she felt she couldn't breathe—but that day, it did. Jensen was floating on air as she made her way toward the exit.

            "I can't believe he kept it a secret for so long," a woman said as Jensen passed through a sea of desks. "How tragic."

            "I hope the family's okay. Seemed quiet on social media lately," a man said in return. "He must be grieving."

            "I heard Jensen was in the building—"

            Jensen stopped in her tracks, stomach shooting up to her throat. Please be a different Jensen, please be a different Jensen.

            "She is." Lips tutted in sympathy. "Poor woman probably doesn't even know."

            "Um," Jensen said. Involuntarily. "Hi. Um. Eavesdropper. Sorry."

            The two people looked at her, vaguely annoyed until they recognized who she was. Jensen would never be used to that. Their eyes widened, and Jensen heard the man suck in a sharp breath.

            "Jensen Rhodes," he said.

            "Hi," Jensen repeated. "Can I ask what I've... clearly missed?"

            "Um," he said, "Robert Walker."

            "What about him?"

            "He..." the woman trailed off. "I'm so sorry. He passed away this morning."

            Jensen's eyes widened. "He... what?"

            "Passed away," the man said. "Cancer."

            Jensen swallowed hard. "I have to go. Um. Thanks."

            "Sorry!" they shouted as Jensen ran down the hall. Out of the building.

            Hard breathing built up in her throat as she tugged her phone from her pocket. God, if she'd missed calls she'd never forgive herself.

            Realizing she'd missed texts made her heart sink.

            "Shit." Jensen's eyes scanned the messages quickly. "Shit, shit, shit."

            something happened that i need to tell you about, the first text read, but don't rush. i hope the table read is everything you could dream of. you deserve it.

            The second was from Maddox, a simple: You should get home soon if you can. Hope the table read goes well.

            When Jensen got to her car, she drove out of the parking lot like she was defending her title at the Indy 500. She weaved through traffic. In and out, in and out. Between the right and the centre lanes, centre and left. Jensen was all over the place. Somewhere in her mind she knew she should've been driving slower but already felt like she was too late.

            "Call Miles," Jensen ordered her phone. "On speaker."

            The phone rang. And rang. And eventually Miles' message played. "You've reached Miles Rhodes. Leave a message unless it's urgent. Then call Jensen."

            "Fuck," Jensen said. After the beep. Her eyes widened. "Not at you! I love you. Be home soon. Call me if I'm not home by the time you get this. I hope you're okay."

            Jensen pressed the end call button. And tried again. Twice. While she continued weaving through traffic. Which Miles would've been upset she was doing but Jensen was upset that he wasn't picking up the phone and there was nothing else she could do to get home faster.

            After getting off the highway, Jensen darted down side streets and managed to make it home in too little time. She ran into the house, unsure if she even closed the car door behind her. She thought she remembered doing so. Threw her keys into the bowl where they kept them. Also unsure if she closed the front door behind her. Maybe she had.

            "Miles?" Jensen ran into the house.

            She looked into the living room, the kitchen. Their movie room. The garage—every car accounted for. Even the bathroom. Dining room. Her heart pounded against her chest. No sign of him anywhere.

            "Miles?" Jensen called again, running up the stairs. "Babe?"

            Not in their bedroom. The bathroom door was open. Beckett was fast asleep in his crib. Sleeping softly. Jensen would've been relieved to see that if she knew where Miles was.

            "Miles?" Jensen ran into Rocky's room and say them fast asleep on her bed. There was the breath of relief.

            Rocky's head was against his chest, snoring as she usually did. Miles' soft breathing was barely loud enough to be heard over Rocky, but it was there. His arms wrapped around Rocky to keep her in place. Keep her safe. He had a leg crossed over the other.

            Miles looked peaceful. Jensen wasn't going to wake him. She could deal with the situation after he woke up. This was good. Right? Miles not awake and not thinking about what had happened was good. She nodded. It was good.

            Jensen walked out of the room as quietly as she could manage. The longer he slept, the calmer he'd be when he woke up. And Jensen would hold him. As long as he needed. And listen if he wanted to talk, talk if he didn't want to.

            Jensen walked into their room and grabbed the book off Miles' nightstand. Making Movies, Sidney Lumet. Spine cracked so much, the covers were curled around the edges. She smiled. Softly. It pulled at one corner of her mouth because a full smile felt wrong. Whenever Miles travelled with Jensen, he'd pack that book. Say it was for a rainy day. And it would never leave his suitcase because he'd spend too much time exploring.

            Jensen sat down on Miles' side  of the bed, leaning over to grab her reading glasses from her nightstand. Putting them on, she relaxed against the headboard. She flipped through the book. Pages were highlighted in different colours. Jensen wished she could ask if the colours were coded or if it was only that he'd read on different days. Notes written in the margins in Miles' messy handwriting. He had nice printing when he took his time, messy printing when he needed to get something down quickly before he forgot it.

            She liked watching him read and write. Chewed pen caps in his mouth. Highlighters tucked behind his ear. Sometimes he wore Jensen's glasses until she noticed. Pen cap falling from his lips as he laughed and held them away from her while she tried to grab them. While she protested that he was going to wreck his eyes wearing those. Jensen usually had to press a kiss to his lips to get them back. Ended up not needing them because she enjoyed kissing Miles a little too much.

            After not too long, a small groan came from the doorway. Shuffling footsteps entered the room. Jensen looked up from the book in her hands as Miles crawled into the bed, one of Rocky's blankets around his shoulders, and leaned his head against her chest and his shoulder against her stomach. Wrapped his arms against her torso. Dropping the book down onto the nightstand, Jensen hugged him tightly. Kissed his forehead. Her knees bent, surrounding him in a fortress of limbs. Her hands rubbed the shoulder that wasn't against her, cheek pressed to his head.

            "I'm so—"

            "Don't," Miles said. His voice muffled by Jensen's shirt.

            Jensen pressed her lips together. "Okay."

            "I don't know how I want to feel about it." Miles' arms tightened around her.

            "You don't have to know," Jensen said, "or feel one way or another. It's going to be weird."

            "I don't want to talk about this anymore." Miles raised a fist to push tears off the cheek that wasn't against Jensen. The ones that were had already soaked into her shirt.

            "We can talk whenever you're comfortable," Jensen said, "and sit here as long as you need."

            "Not now," Miles said as he cuddled into her. "You don't need my shit."

            "That's my job, babe."

            "Not with everything else going on." More tears soaked into Jensen's shirt. She held him a little tighter.

            Jensen kissed his head. "In spite of everything going on."

            "Did your table read go well?" Miles pressed a kiss to Jensen's sternum.

            "It went fine," Jensen said.

            "Tell me about it."

            "Miles—"

            "Please?" Jensen hated how close his voice sounded to breaking while he spoke. "I want to hear all of it."

            Jensen rested her head against their headboard. Told him every detail she could remember. From what songs played on the radio on the drive down to the chicken salad finger sandwiches she'd passed on her way out. From Holly being there to Jensen's monologue about how life goes on. Miles listened to every word; never spoke out of turn, but injected comments where he could, asked questions.

            If Jensen didn't know any better, she'd say he was perfectly fine. Exactly Miles. He acted how he always did. Listened to how her day went and made sure she knew he was listening.

            Jensen didn't know if it reassured her or terrified her.