Dead Ends // Hugh Jackman

Chapter 12

6:45 A.M.

That's what the time is on the digital clock on my bedside table.

I know that's early. Even for me, but I'm so nervous about this morning that I hardly slept anyway. I already have everything ready to go - my laptop and journal. I wrote down some ideas, also made an outline for my query letter.

Surprisingly, what I thought would be the most difficult is coming a little easier to me. The synopsis, however, that's what I'm struggling with the most. The query letter is more formal. There's a structure to follow. I have to be more creative with the summary.

Maybe it's because I want it to be perfect. I want to encapsulate my story as a whole without giving too much away. I want to be vague but still have detail. It's contradictory really.

I'm hoping Hugh will possibly give me some insight. Just having someone to bounce ideas off will help greatly.

Midway through getting dressed, my phone goes off. I tug my shirt all the way on before I look at it.

Hugh: Good morning!
Hugh: I'm in room 310. Security will be standing outside my door. I've notified them about this morning :)

I don't think about it when I give his last message a 'thumbs up' reaction. It's like I do it from muscle memory.

Me: Good morning! See you at 9:30 🤗

Hugh doesn't reply back. There's not exactly a lot to say in response to my message. Besides, I'll see him soon enough. It's a quarter after 8. I'll have to leave in the next 15 minutes if I want to make it. Darriott is on the other side of town, and there will be traffic. Even on a Sunday, there's a lot of it in the morning from people attending church.

I'm not very religious. I grew up being taught Christian values, and though I'm not practicing living by those standards, I still believe some of them. Just not enough to go to church every week.

I glimpse at my reflection in the mirror above my dresser. Perhaps I should've put more thought into what I'm wearing, but what are you supposed to wear to meet an actor who's helping you write a query letter and synopsis to get a literary agent? Not sure there's a set dress code for that.

So, I've decided on clothes that are both casual and nice. I'm wearing a white, floral blouse paired with high-waisted, cargo joggers. They're the kind that I can dress up. Plus, they're super comfortable and have all these pockets. I like the look of them, having more then needed, but I think it gives the outfit some character.

I've always prefered comfort over "beauty" according to society's standards. Truth is there's a way to look and feel good. I like to think I've found a happy medium.

Slipping on the cleanest pair of white keds I own, I throw on an oversized, dark grey cardigan. It's made from a thin material so I won't bake outside. Not like how I imagine Hugh did when he wore that trench coat.

Thinking about it now makes me laugh. I thought he was some creep, but he's so far from one. He's kind and has a good sense of humor. I guess that's all I really know about him aside from that he has questionable food cravings.

After I pin my hair up with a claw clip and check the makeup I lightly did in the mirror one last time, I pick up my computer bag, grab my jeep keys by the door, and head out.

The drive takes about as long as I thought it would. By the time I park and go inside the hotel, it's 5 minutes till 9:30. I notice there's not any security detail outside or in the lobby. Probably because they don't want anyone suspecting there's a celebrity here? Not too sure, but it makes the ride up to the third floor in the elevator a simple task.