Out of the Woods | ✓

04 | welcome to the land of fame excess

Packing was a treacherous task that Jensen was going to give up on if she had to do it much longer. Maybe she could've sent Liberty in her place. Liberty could've recited something along the lines of I could've been a contender in a bad Marlon Brando accent while Jensen stayed at home and taught and pretended nothing had never happened. Except that was a terrible idea, so Jensen was back to square one: packing for three days in Los Angeles in the middle of October.

How was she supposed to pack for three days? Could she live out of a backpack with two t-shirts and one pair of jeans? Or did she have to pack new outfits for each day? Did her airplane outfit count as one of those outfits? What if she went to Los Angeles with an empty bag and bought what she needed as she went along? Was that a stupid plan or a genius one?

            Jensen hadn't travelled much because of work. If she wasn't teaching, she was acting. If she wasn't acting, she was sleeping. If she wasn't sleeping, she was teaching. The cycle had been the same since she got her degree.

Acting in small roles had been something to pay rent. Sparks Fly was never supposed to be within her grasp. Hollywood was never supposed to be within reach. Packing a suitcase had never been on her radar. But there she was. Leaving what she knew; her city, her life, her favourite ketchup chips. How the tables turned.

            Liberty knocked on Jensen's door as she pushed it open. "How's it going?"

Jensen turned and shook a hand through her curls, trying to clear them away from her eyes. "You're home early."

            "It's ten thirty." Liberty motioned to her outfit—a sign she came home from teaching not long before. Her class must have been covering Star Wars that day because with her loose white blouse, skin tight brown pants, navy jacket, and knee high boots, she looked like the Latina Han Solo on Cloud City the world didn't know it needed. She'd pulled her hair back into a bun to keep it out of her face—hardly scruffy looking.

            Liberty had promised she wouldn't coordinate outfits for teaching Jensen's classes. Both Jensen and Liberty knew that was a lie. Liberty claimed it helped her focus on the lecture content. Jensen figured it was allowing her not-so-inner geek to shine.

            "How's it going?" Liberty asked again, leaning against the doorframe. "Need help?"

            "I'm... okay," Jensen said. "On both fronts. I think. Mostly."

            Liberty eyed Jensen's empty suitcase and scanned the piles of clothes Jensen had laid out on her bed. She pressed her lips together. "Looks like it's going well." She looked at her watch even though she knew what time it was. "Don't you have to be at YVR in like six hours?"

            "Seven." Jensen looked up at Liberty. Her shoulders were slumped, her tone quiet. "If I don't pack, I still have to go, don't I?"

            Liberty knit her eyebrows together. "Unless you want Lucille to end you."

            Jensen let out a breath through her nose. "Like she isn't usually on the verge of that."

            "You did ghost her when she was talking to Academy Award nominee Keira Lim about screen tests," Liberty said.

Jensen stared back at Liberty. "That's reassuring. Thank you."

"Sorry." Liberty walked across the room, her boots rapped on the hardwood floor. The room sounded too hollow. It was going to sound too hollow for months if she got the job. Liberty sat on the edge of the bed and avoided the piles of clothing. "What's really going on?"