rae ─ .✦

you’re up just before jenna is. 

it’s like this every time you follow her to any city she has to work in. this time, it’s london– the wednesday premiere. 

you set an alarm an hour before she has to wake up, and she usually murmurs something, or groans, or just sleeps entirely through your six am alarm until you shut it off. 

the extra hour gives you just enough time to freshen up. you don’t try too hard. it’s five in the morning, and you don’t have the patience to throw on a pair of jeans. with london’s chilly weather, you settle for a pair of sweats, the shirt you went to sleep in, and an overcoat to at least seem somewhat presentable.   

you gather whatever things jenna may need, set them aside close to her so that it’s easier for her to access, and then take the elevator down to run across the street in search of coffee. all to be delivered before her alarm goes off. 

you shuffle back into the hotel room as quietly as possible. but your intentions prove faulty when you find jenna half-propped up against the headboard, still in her sleepy haze. 

jenna looked like a haunted porcelain doll from where you stood. staring into the wall like she was in a purgatory of trying to process the fact that she was now awake, right until you walked in. 

you huff, shoulders visibly deflating when you find her awake.  

“why are you up?” you murmur, shuffling towards her side of the bed to set her coffee down. you sit just at the edge of it, enough to plant a kiss on her eyebrow. 

she looks up at you, still half-lidded, and you watch as her chest moves up and down in a steady movement, then she hums. you smile softly, knowing it's the only thing she can try to muster this early in the morning. 

“you weren’t here,” she whispers, voice hoarse with sleep. 

you roll your eyes softly. every time. 

you always try your best to slip out without her noticing. like a little game for yourself to see if you can ever make it back before she’s woken up. but you have yet to beat the game, and jenna is always somehow spatially aware of you, even in an unconscious state. 

“i was gone for like fifteen minutes.” your arms work to remove your coat and throw it to the side. it lands on a chair by the window.  

the start of a faint smile forms on her face. “that’s too long for me to sleep without you.” 

you huff a small laugh. you think now, trying to beat this little game you’ve come up with yourself will never be won. because jenna will always notice it, no matter how hard you try. like she’s somehow developed a sixth sense entirely catered to you. but you would gladly accept the defeat. 

you glance at the clock on the side table. “you still have like seventeen minutes. and enrique is already up. he texted me saying, handle the beast before i get there.” 

she hums, then grabs your hand closest to her and sets it on her lap. “just lie with me then.” 

and you do. you scooch up on the bed to sit against the headboard, and jenna’s head immediately falls onto your shoulder, like it was waiting for you the whole time. 

the coffee is forgotten for now. and you sit in the silence of the hotel room, listening as the city of london starts to wake up just beneath you. you revel in the moment, knowing times like these aren't always easily given. 

it was only a matter of time before work would call you back, and you’d have to go back to only being able to see jenna through a screen on your phone. “i have that interview with the journalist for vogue today,” she says, breaking the silence. “they should be coming in at around nine.”  

you hum. “did you want me here for that?” 

she picks up her head slightly to look at you and rolls her eyes, the most awake you’ve seen her up until now. “of course i want you here.” 

you smile at her words and grip her hand in yours slightly tighter. you sit with her until enrique knocks on your door. she groans silently, knowing the last bit of peace of the day had ended, and she wouldn't be able to sit with it again until later tonight. 

you let jenna sit on the bed for a moment longer while you let enrique in yourself. he seems way more awake than you and jenna combined when he shuffles in to greet you with a bright good morning.   

he trudges in with a giant wardrobe trunk, then claps his hands together triumphantly when he spots jenna on the bed. “ready to go when you are, movie star.” 

jenna laughs at his antics before crawling to the edge of the bed to plant an endearing kiss on his forehead. “just give me a sec.” then disappears into the bathroom. 

you help enrique set up, and not long after, jenna’s hairstylists and makeup artist arrive. 

the hotel room you shared with jenna quickly becomes a space of coordinated chaos. you mainly sit off to the side, admiring jenna’s small team of people as they turn her into the version of her everyone knows and loves. you help where you can, whether it be passing jenna her coffee or feeding her the oatmeal she ordered from room service. 

sometimes she’ll glance at you in between. just to find you, just to lock eyes with you, even if only for a short second. it’s a quiet, private thing. like seeing you in a crowd will always help keep her where her feet are. 

by eight thirty-nine, jenna is ready for the first job of the day. journalism and vogue.

she’s in something much more laid-back and casual. a cashmere sweater and black slacks. you imagine it's much more comfortable than the piece she’ll be wearing for later tonight. a look you have yet to be shown, as jenna and enrique both swear it’s better to see it on her rather than hung up in a garment bag.  

the vogue journalist arrives at exactly nine oh seven. she introduces herself to everyone as gwen, and it isn’t lost on you– or anyone– the way her face contorts to a look of surprise when she realizes you’re in the room as well. 

 it isn’t long before jenna starts pumping jokes out, all things you notice gwen jotting down into the notepad on her lap. 

jenna pulls gwen in with her easy charm. she answers honestly, and even at times flips the script to interview gwen herself. 

“now, because this is vogue, i do have to ask,” jenna is quick to catch the short glance gwen throws at you across the room. “what brings you back down to earth?” 

jenna’s smile is small and knowing. she knows exactly what gwen means, and exactly what kind of answer she’s trying to pull from her when asking that question. 

jenna hums, eyes casting over to you. you’re sitting beside enrique, across the room, quietly helping him with tidying the aftermath of earlier that morning. instantly, your eyes lift to meet hers. jenna’s eyes soften, and there’s a visible ease that gwen notices as soon as jenna’s eyes land on you. her smile is faint and conscious as she watches two of hollywood’s most talked-about young actors revealing themselves in a manner that feels too private and real. 

it almost feels like she wasn’t supposed to witness this moment. 

gwen is quick to jot it down in her notepad. 

a few seconds later, jenna turns to face gwen again. she exhales quietly, “i think…i used to be the kind of person who believed that being so entwined with my work also meant i didn’t have the time to put aside for other things. but i don’t think that’s necessarily true anymore.” jenna pauses to sip her coffee, clearing her throat before continuing. “i’ve never really had something to really ground me. i mean, i had my family, yes, but it’s so different when you have someone who is just yours.” 

“i can only really remember being someone who was always off working somewhere, in a different country, barely home. and now…it’s changed. i still adore what i do, but there’s this new feeling– like i want to make time for the people i love. i don’t really want to be thousands of miles away from home for months at a time. it’s so weird to look at myself and want to change that.” 

jenna smiles, confident in her answer. and even surprised with herself with the admission of something she holds too close to her. “and yeah, i think that even if you’ve got the hardest job in the world and you still have something worth putting work aside for, you will make the time.” 

gwen hums, seemingly satisfied with what jenna gave her, and all the same understanding that what she was just given was rare. 

“wow, thank you, ms. ortega,” she says warmly, closing her notepad and rising from her seat. “i think you’ve given me more than enough to work with here.” 

jenna stands to walk her out. gwen says her goodbyes to the room before jenna opens the door, promising she’ll reach out before the article goes to print. 

once jenna shuts the door, the hotel room falls quieter than it has been since before stylists and make-up artists raided it. 

you cross the room to find jenna leaning against the door. the aftermath of her interview with vogue left remnants of a soft flush on her cheeks. you hadn’t really heard most of what she said or what was asked. and you didn’t pay much attention to her conversation until you caught her eye towards the end. 

but you heard enough of it for your heart to go into momentary cardiac arrest. 

you step closer to her. “you did well,” you murmur. hand raising to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.  

she doesn’t say anything except offer you a grateful smile, then lets her head fall onto your shoulder to let out an exhale. you gladly envelop her in your arms, offering her a momentary stillness before the machine picks up again. 

enrique interrupts moments shortly. the pace of the room would pick up again. a short break where room service would be delivered for an early lunch, and then jenna would be back to sitting on a chair while people molded her to their liking. 

you’d linger the way you always do. sitting in the corner on your phone until jenna would call for you to pass her buzzing phone, or simply just to have you near. 

somewhere in between, an outfit would be laid out for you to get into. it’d be understated, subtle, purposefully meant not to be flashy. a conscious decision you made not to take away from jenna’s night. 

you’d be pushed into the other side of the room while jenna was pushed into the restroom with enrique and the elusive garment bag at hand. 

you’d scoff at the absurdity of having to be separated to get ready. i’ve already seen her naked. multiple times. 

you’d realize thirty minutes later why the wait had been worth it. 

you’re useless for a long moment. just gaping at the sight of jenna as enrique adjusted a hem on her dress. 

“jesus,” you say. “you’re so unfair.” 

jenna smirks at you over her shoulder, a teasing glint in her eyes. “yeah?” 

your eyes rake over the outline of her body. shoulders slumping dejectedly, “i will never get used to this.” 

as soon as enrique declares jenna ready, you’re both being ushered quickly down to the lobby for the awaiting van. 

her hands find yours immediately as you’re pushed into the vehicle. she holds onto it the whole ride. even as her publicist gives the run-through of the plan for how things will go. jenna nods. solo photos, then the cast joins her for a final photo call. you nod as well, knowing your own role in the plan. 

the cheers are loud when the van pulls up right at the entrance of the venue. the adrenaline is already pumping for jenna. and enrique is quick to make any final touch-ups on her gown. you both know what happens next. 

jenna releases your hand, and you rise from your seat, ready to make your exit.

“okay,” you say, giving her a final kiss. “you’re gonna kill it.”

her lips meet yours again eagerly, hand brushing your jaw. “i’ll be right inside, my love.” 

you wait a few seconds for jenna and enrique to shuffle towards the back of the van to remain out of view. 

the machine hums loudly. 

then, as soon as the van doors slide open, the crowd erupts, and you’re quick to get off. a few members of jenna’s team follow closely behind, guiding you. you hear your name being shouted, the clicks of cameras, but you keep your eyes forward until you reach the venue entrance. 

moments later, the van doors would slide open again. this time, jenna is stepping off. 

she poses, walks, and waves to the crowd of people who call for her. all with that calm confidence that makes it impossible not to just stop and stare. 

two weeks later, you’re back in la– an eight-day break before you have to fly to vancouver for work, and ten days before jenna has to fly to new zealand for work as well. 

you make the most of what little time you have. already planning what weekends are empty for both of you, and deciding who will fly to whom, even if it's for approximately forty-eight hours. 

jenna holds your hand over dinner. scrolling through her calendar. “i have four days off the twenty-third until the twenty-seventh, but i can only be here for two. i want to see my parents for a bit.” jenna says, mouthful of tuna rice. 

you agree, taking a sip of your wine, “that’s fine. i think i was gonna fly up to fresno to see the nieces that weekend as well. i felt bad for missing their birthdays last month.” 

jenna hums. moments later, the conversation switches to something about jenna wanting feedback on a script she wants to produce. 

dinner passes on in a normal, quiet way. the way you both rarely get when you’re off, constantly working in some random city. 

you offer jenna the last bit of spicy tofu, but she shakes her head no, just to take some off your plate moments later. then you roll your eyes at her and ultimately push the rest of your plate towards her. 

it’s always like this when finally being home. something jenna has been trying not to take for granted lately. the stillness of it, the tranquility, the knowing that nothing could ever touch you both inside this fishbowl that she’ll try her damn hardest to keep from spilling. 

neither of you notices the sneaky phone that snaps a photo of you from a few tables away. something blurry, with that intimate restaurant lighting. jenna smiling at you while your head is tipped back in a laugh.

 it would be the same photo that would then be splayed across multiple social platforms and be left for people to dissect and obsess over. you wouldn’t hear about its existence ever, too blissfully in your own little bubble to ever care to say or do anything about it. 

for you and jenna, it would remain a night like any other. 

a few days later, the vogue article would go live. perfectly timed for the second act of wednesday, which would be released in a few days. 

jenna would have a pre-prepared post to announce it with. her first vogue shoot was a huge deal to her and her team. 

you were just out of a meeting when jenna’s text came in. you nearly stopped what you were doing, locking yourself in your car. entirely too impatient to get home to read it. 

you skim through it mostly, only stopping when one of her photos from the shoot comes into view. greedily, your fingers work the buttons on the side of your phone to screenshot them without a second thought. 

your chest swells with pride when you find the section on her balance of fame and reality.  

i tread carefully with the next question, not expecting much from ortega, but nonetheless hopeful of anything. when i do finally ask, the smile she gives me is enough for me to know i’ve been made. still, thankfully, she doesn't try to shrug it off, nor does she deflect. 

ortega’s playful energy seems to slow the tiniest bit at the mention of a possible tether in her life. i sit quietly waiting for her answer as she thinks it up. though it becomes hard to remain neutral when she meets the eyes of someone across the room. 

it’s a quiet exchange, and entirely too domestic and normal for anyone else to pick up on. but it speaks louder than any words that could have been spoken. it was like watching two moths to a flame.

even now, i know readers will struggle to feel what i felt in that moment through words on a page. and greedily–selfishly–i choose not to describe it in full. some things are better left as they were. what i will say is this: ortega seemed entirely, unflinchingly smitten.

“i’ve never really had something to really ground me. i mean, i had my family, yes, but it’s so different when you have someone who is just yours.” 

i don’t have to ask to know who she’s talking about. neither will i name them, because that isn’t what this conversation is about. 

“i can only really remember being someone who was always off working somewhere, in a different country, barely home. and now…it’s changed. i still adore what i do, but there’s this new feeling– like i want to make time for the people i love. i don’t really want to be thousands of miles away from home for months at a time. it’s so weird to look at myself and want to change that.” 

ortega has been known to be protective and private about her life outside of fame. often, insisting that letting the public in too far would only distract from the craft itself. yet, in this moment, she’s inviting me into a rare glimpse of what matters to her outside of her world of celebrity and hollywood. 

and yes, it is, without a question, a love that feels both ordinary and entirely extraordinary. 

perhaps that is the paradox of jenna ortega. the duality of someone who commands the attention of many through a screen with a single glance. while quietly learning how to hold her own life outside of the screen. 

she is one of hollywood's most in-demand young actors, with a career that shows no signs of slowing down. and if there’s anything to take from our morning together in london, it’s that jenna ortega is not only growing as an artist but also as a person determined to make space for love, balance, and belonging. there is a great power in that choice. 

“i think that even if you’ve got the hardest job in the world and you still have something worth putting work aside for, you will make the time.” 

it isn't just a declaration but a promise. one that feels, in every sense, entirely her. 

you reread the words on the screen. it felt like someone had just written a love letter to the reality of your relationship from the outside. it was put beautifully, reverent even. you feel grateful for how gwen had captured jenna. how she’d wrapped it up carefully, like being in on a secret, and even admitting to being protective of something she had no entitlement to. 

jenna’s vogue cover would only add more fuel to a fire already burning. 

you’d go home later, jenna curled up on the couch as she was neck deep in whatever work had her glued to her laptop. her phone would be buzzing with emails and obligations she’d need to tend to. the same would go for you. 

the machine slowly turns gears. 

the world outside your door now seemed to be spinning faster than ever. then the calendar reminders start pinging. travel. shoots. meetings. your work pulling you in one direction, jenna’s schedule pulling her in another. the rare stillness you’d found at home is already being parceled out, boxed up, rearranged around commitments.

“did you see they want me in new york earlier than planned?” jenna says one night, her voice low, almost apologetic as she scrolls through her inbox.

you nod, because your own flights are already booked. different places, different time zones. the machine has its teeth in both of you again, and the only choice you have is to move with it.

the irony is laughable. jenna just publicly admitted to wanting to spend less time being away, yet here she was being pulled back under. 

she still makes good on her word. you both do. you find ways to wedge yourself between the turning gears of the machine. 

you promised to meet her in london the same weekend you're off. she promised to catch the red-eye to your hometown the same weekend your parents were hosting dinner.