Out of the Woods | ✓

05 | takin' care of business

Gardener—Hugh, as he preferred to be called—from what Jensen could tell, was a perfectly respectable man.

Until he wasn't.

Hugh Gardener was talented. Jensen was thinking about it enough that she stumbled over her lines. The more she stumbled, the more she panicked. The more she panicked, the more she stumbled. Hugh had caught her in an endless cycle that she wasn't sure she could escape.

Keira sat behind the camera, almost fully obscured from Jensen's view. She took that as a blessing. At least she couldn't see Academy Award Nominee Keira Lim lose faith in her.

Although Hugh was wearing enough disappointment on his face for two people. Maybe it was annoyance. Whichever it was, Jensen didn't need Keira looking at her like that too.

Jensen could've cried. Or vomited. She wasn't sure how long she had been in the room with the camera in her face. Legendary cameras were never in her face, not really. They were farther away and less distracting and not nearly as intimate. Even her Legendary screen test hadn't felt as invasive.

If Jensen knew Hugh better, she might've felt comfortable. She wished she'd taken Grace's advice about mingling. Jensen could've opened with something like, How about that airplane food? That would have landed her in the same spot she was in anyway, wouldn't it? It probably would have been more awkward.

Jensen liked acting. But acting with someone she had no chemistry with? Terrifying. Legendary had built everyone on the show carefully. They did multiple chemistry tests to see who got along and the cast spent hours off set together while first getting to know each other.

This? This felt forced. This felt terrible.

Jensen knew she had a bad feeling about the screen test. At least her students wouldn't have Liberty teaching them for more than a couple days. That was hardly enough time to realize she was closet cosplaying movie characters for lectures. Jensen would go back to Vancouver quietly and never do anything like this ever again.

"Rhodes." Keira's voice was soft, but enough to drag Jensen out of her internal panic. "It's your line."

Hugh was staring at Jensen with a look that said, If you shit the bed and mess this up for me, and somehow, his look trailed off into an empty threat. Jensen felt even worse.

Welcome to Hollywood, Jensen Rhodes. Please enjoy your stay because you won't be here that long.

"Sorry," Jensen managed. "Um." She looked down at her hands, closing her eyes to quickly recollect herself. Samuel L. Jackson, babe—no—motherfucker. Get it done. "Look, Jason," she said, looking up at Hugh. "—I don't know what you've heard about me. But I'm here to prove that I'm a good welder. That's it."

"I am too," Hugh continued. "You think you're the only person with something to prove?"

"I think I'm the only one here who was told that they shouldn't be here."

"I think you don't know a damn thing about me."

Jensen laughed. It was bitter, hollow, and exactly what Jensen needed to feel like maybe she found traction. "Who questioned you, exactly?"

Hugh sighed, putting his hands on his hips. He didn't miss a beat—him or Jason. "I took time away from my daughter to be here. Do you want the list of how many people told me not to do this competition?"