You're sitting on the couch of yours and Jenna's dimly lit shared apartment, scrolling through your phone. Jenna is behind you sitting at the kitchen island and scribbling away in her journal. She strokes her chin with her free hand, looking down at what she has written. She glances over at you, closing it.

"What time is it? I think I'm done for today man, it's been a long one." She says, running her hands over her face. "I have a shoot tomorrow." She mumbles, more to herself than you.