JENNIE
"How was it?" Mama's question came from her bedroom, her voice's edges slurred with sleep.
"It was fine," I said quietly, sticking my head in. "Long, but fine. I did good."
"Of course you did," she mumbled, her form rolling over in the bed. "Love you."
"Love you too." I flipped off the hall light, and she disappeared, a blanket of black swallowing the room. I stepped back to the living room and dropped onto the couch, pulling the afghan off its back and over my chest. The day hadn't been fine. It had been stressful and long and hot and horrible. I thought I could work with him. I thought I could spit out lines and be in character and be fine. I thought, because the set was on Georgian soil, that it'd be my turf. I didn't realize how foreign that world would be. So many terms I didn't know, tossed effortlessly between hundreds of strangers, no attempt made to clue in the new girl. The Southerners they brought in from Atlanta were all in the movie business there, so they waltzed around with ease, taking their cues, their places, without a stumble. I was the odd girl out, looking like an idiot. I saw the looks, the side glances and raised eyebrows, saying, What is she doing here? clear as day. By lunch, my confidence was shot. By afternoon, I'd used up every pep talk I had. And by the time Lisa Manoban introduced me to condoms, my defenses had crumbled to nothing. I'm gonna blame that fatigue on my weakness when she had come around the desk and touched me.
After that touch, on my way to hair and makeup, I had ditched Mary and ducked into a restroom. Called Jimin's cell and left a teary voicemail. He'd flown to Vancouver that morning for his next gig. I'd begged him to stay just one more week, offered him money, dumplings, freedom to use my makeup... but he'd had to go. We'd hugged it out in front of the Raine House at seven AM before he'd all but pushed me in the direction of the Pit. A half-hour after my pathetic voicemail, I got a text from him.
I'm in the air. Toughen up. Where's the Jennie I know?
I had smiled at his text. Blotted my eyes before the makeup artist had my hide, and reached down deep. He was right. Screw all of the side looks and whispers. Lisa and Don had wanted me for a reason. I would learn the things I needed to. And in the meantime, I couldn't show any weakness—not to any of them, but especially not to Lisa. I was stronger than that. I was better than that.
By the time I had pushed out of the makeup chair, I was ready for battle. And now, five hours later, I was bone tired.
The next day would be better. I knew that. The first day was always the hardest.
I reached up to rub my eyes, but my hand didn't even reach my head before I fell asleep.
"Jennie's lucky she could round up six bridesmaids. Really, Taehyung was the only reason those girls were even doing it. They were saints! And then for Jennie to go and do that to them. White trash, that's what she is. I told my Bridget. I told her not to associate herself with that girl, but my daughter's too nice, always has been. And look, I was right."
"Bridget is your daughter?"
"Oh yes. She's Bridget Anderson now. She married a doctor. I'll give you his card in case you ever have any feet issues."
JENNIE
The first thing I saw my second day on set was Lisa's rooster. It stood on a fenced-in patch of grass that hadn't been there yesterday. I stepped from the truck, shutting the door with my butt, and walked over to the pen. Pat and Gus from Colton's Construction were there, in the midst of construction on what looked to be an open coop.
