The last thing you expected when walking down the streets of New York City today was to see Jenna Ortega walking out of her hotel. Then again, things don't always go how you expect them to, do they?

You're right there and you don't have anything for her to sign, and you can't just say "hi" because that would be lame. It would be lame, right? There are a few other fans gathered out, probably like eight if you took the time to headcount. You have a phone case. Maybe that's something.

Jenna herself looks ruinous, said in the most God honoring way possible. The long black lace skirt she's wearing compliments her cropped black blazer, which occasionally glimpses the black bra-top she has on underneath. Her perfectly manicured nails are dark red, contrasting the all black outfit. Her hair is down and blowing slightly in the breeze (much to her irritation apparently; you can see her fixing her bangs every few seconds), and her eyes are shielded with what you're sure are some grossly expensive sunglasses. She's clutching a coffee in one hand, black, you notice.

The second Jenna walks over, she's immediately met with excited chattering from the fans. She goes down the line, grinning, autographing, and greeting the others. Then, she gets to you, and she smiles just the same.

She plucks your phone case from your hand when you offer it along with your rather (embarrassingly) meek "hello", flipping it over and signing it for you.

"Ooh, pretty case." She murmurs, her eyes flitting up to peer at you over her sunglasses.