Unbeknownst

Henry cheered and clapped together with the rest of the crew as their filming came to an end. For six months he had to trip over himself as Simon, kissing and clinging to a cold-blooded Madeline, who was a lot like her real life imitator. He couldn’t tell if Jane felt any relief that the filming was over, she stood completely still, and her slow clapping seemed to be a subconscious action. Her gaze lacked any identifiable emotion, like she wasn’t fully aware. 

Ever since Henry tried to calm her she has withdrawn into herself. Sure, she still snapped at people unprovoked, and she didn’t shy away from making her opinion about possible improvements to the script unknown, but there was a noticeable change in her. Jane’s eyes lowered to the ground more often than not, and her posture had become even more rigid than it usually was. Henry believed that she was holding back from speaking. For whatever reason. 

But as always, there was no use dwelling on it. The woman was impossible to read and her hysteric outbursts weren’t anything Henry wanted to concern himself with. If anything, it was a nice change that she seemed to finally have garnered some self control. Perhaps she finally felt embarrassment for the ways she had been acting. Whatever the case, her offishness finally brought some peace to the set and brightened Henry’s mood. 

From here on out there were only a few press conferences left and then Henry would never have to see her again. He felt envious, as well as happy for her future colleagues – they wouldn’t know her the way he did.

–

Jane sat at a distance from everyone else, in a darkened corner of the room with her own slice of cake resting on her lap. Her cheeks were burning up and her hands felt clammy as she gripped the plate resting on her lap. The porcelain was cool on her thigh and offered her something else to focus on as she silently observed her colleagues engaging in light-hearted conversations and laughter. The sight tugged at her heart, she wanted to be happy for them. They looked gleeful and got along so well. 

But their joy only made her envious, and she felt deeply frustrated with herself. Why couldn’t she join them? Be one of them? She worked alongside these people for nearly six whole months, and yet she only knew a couple of their names. She looked left, and her eyes landed on Henry’s profile, who was deep in conversation. The hope that had chipped away but wasn’t yet fully gone had stirred at that moment. Henry wasn’t a very open man, that is what her initial opinion had been. And for the most part she was right, but what Jane couldn’t have expected was for him to offer her comfort in a moment of anxiousness. 

Jane’s embarrassment at her own moment of weakness prohibited her from showing the gratitude she felt. She thought that Henry must like her to some degree if he was willing to help. It was foolish to read so much into a gesture of common courtesy, but it felt good. It felt like hope.