The Faces Of Karl Jacobs

Chapter 2: The Timberlands

Hailey's P.O.V.

The car ride was painfully long and silent. The tension was almost palpable and it became quite obvious that everyone was trying to ignore it.

I watched my breath fog up the passenger window and began to draw frowny faces in the condensation. All I wanted to do was sleep, however I didn't trust this situation in the slightest. Or I guess I should say, I didn't trust Karl's driving capability in the slightest.

However, my brain couldn't fight off the weariness of my body any longer, as I mindlessly began to hum to the radio that lulled me to softly close my eyes.

I knew that when I began to hear the soft taps of rain hitting the exterior of the tesla, I was a goner.

. . .

I groaned softly to myself.

I could feel the stiffness in my neck as I began to shift trying to find a more comfortable position. For a one hundred thousand dollar car you would think that the seats would be fucking comfortable.

Despite the persistant downpour sounding outside of the car, I could hear faint whispers from the people around me.

Curiously, I kept my eyes closed as I listened.

"So, who has hotels again?" I heard Chandler ask.

"We have five rooms, two for crew, one for the editing team, one for the safety officials, and the last one for us" Kris rattled off.

Karl scoffed slightly.

"What?" I heard Kris ask, an annoyed tone in her voice.

"Oh, nothing..." Karl said, letting go of whatever invasive thought he had.

"Yeah right," Kris huffed, I could practically feel her eyes rolling, "Spit it out. It's just us"

Then the car went silent.

Dead silent.

You know that feeling when you know people are talking about you, but you just can't prove it?

Well, this felt like that.

Karl's silence was answer enough, "No, it's not just us. She's here"

I could practically hear the words.

However, the silence didn't last long, "I just, look, things have been bad recently... balancing my three jobs is hard enough as it is, so when I have to come work on these multi-day shoots and repeatedly be told to behave myself, it gets incredibly frustrating..." Karl expressed, letting a deep-frustrated sigh out with the words.

"Look man, I get it," I frowned at Chandlers words, "You're stressed out and drama is the last thing you need. So don't you think it's time to bury the hatchet? Maybe it will relieve some stress?"

"When did Chandler start acting like Gandi?"

The car was silent once again.

Just when I though the conversation was finished, I heard Karl's voice say, "I think it would be more stressful if we were friends...."

Luckily, my body was still twisted towards the window, obscuring my face from any curious glances.

My face twisted into a grimace. What the hell does that even mean?

I held back my urge to scoff at his ridiculous words. I swear, Karl will make up any excuse to hate me when he's the one that starts all the problems.

Karl has been blessed with an adoring fanbase, amazing friends, great job opportunities, everything. And it's all just handed to him. Sure he seems grateful enough, but it's hard to believe there's even an ounce of decency in his body when all he seems to do is bitch and moan.