“You were not faking.” Jenna’s voice immediately cuts off any excuses, as she folds her arms over her chest. If she didn’t have to force a stupid fake smile for the media, she’d probably have tried to strangle you by now.

You had meant to tell her about the scene well before production began, but you knew it’d cause an argument. So you pushed it off, and off…until your face was plastered on cinema screens globally. And Jenna knew she shouldn’t have been mad, you had your autonomy after all, but some cavewoman part of her brain was beyond angry.

“When we- …you make that face when we-“ Jenna fumbles over her words as she keeps her forced smile, the image of you in that scene seared into her mind.

After stepping into your limousine, Jenna immediately grabs her stiletto and throws it off of your head.

“You didn’t think to tell me?!”