Your shoes clicked softly against the carpet as you tried to keep up with him. It was difficult, when the path to the limousine was filled with eager photographers, hysterical fans and curious journalists.

Jensen's charming, quiet personality never faltered as he nodded and smiled at each group.

And you, his publicist, didn't feel like smiling at all after hours and hours following him like a puppy. It wasn't because of the job. The job was great, well paid, and the people you dealed with were tolerable enough.

The thing is, the premiers were exhausting. You honestly didn't know how he handled it.

As you finally, thankfully, reached the limousine waiting at the end of the line, the driver opened the door with the heavily tinted window. Jensen gestured for you to go inside before following after you.

He must have heard you exhale in relief, because he soon found himself chuckling quietly. "You always make the same face, you know that?" he asked, turning to look out the window.