A/N: This is a continuation of The Story Goes On. Some time has passed, I would say around 2 or 3 years. I've been watching a lot of movies and cast interviews lately, and it's made me miss this fic and this universe so I thought I'd revisit it.

Jessica has just dragged herself home after a fourteen hour day of filming. If she knew before signing onto this movie that they were going to film in Dubai in the middle of July, maybe she wouldn’t have taken the script. At this point, she just wants to crank on her air conditioning until she freezes and then sleep for a good ten years.

When her phone vibrates, she’s about to turn it off but then she sees the name on the caller ID and there’s no way she could have ignored the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey! Jessi!” That familiar voice fills her ears. She had forgotten how loud Tiffany is, and it startles her into pulling her phone away from her ears for a second before pressing it even closer. “It’s me, Tiffany,” she says, like she thought Jessica wouldn’t recognize her voice, and that makes something ache in Jessica’s chest. “…Jessica?”

“Yes.” Jessica clears . “I’m here.”

“How are you?” Tiffany asks brightly.

“I’m—good. I just got home from filming.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I forgot about the time difference. I should let you rest. I’ll call you ba—”

“No!” Jessica blurts out. “No, it’s fine. Don’t—you don’t have to go.”

“Are you sure?” Tiffany asks hesitantly. “I don’t want to keep you from sleeping. I know how much you love it.”

“It’s fine,” Jessica says. “How are you? How’s working with Tom Hiddleston? Does it live up to your fantasies?”

“Oh my god, don’t start. I don’t have fantasies about working with him, that sounds so creepy.”

“I mean, who was the one who wanted to throw a party after he broke up with Taylor Swift?”

“Jes-si,” Tiffany whines. “That’s not what happened!”

“Okay, sure. So how is filming?”

“It’s great,” Tiffany gushes. “Although the costume is insane, it’s so heavy, and I regret insisting on doing most of my own stunts, I don’t know what I was thinking…”

Jessica listens to Tiffany’s long monologue about every detail of her movie patiently, saying “ah” and “mm” in all the right places, and even though she used to complain that listening to Tiffany talk is exhausting, she finds it the opposite of that right now. She finds it—relaxing, like Tiffany’s words are washing over her like a warm stream. Okay, in this weather maybe an ice cold stream.

“And how’s your movie?” Tiffany asks. “You’re in Dubai, right? It must be so hot.”

“I feel like I’m being baked to death, but – that’s the job, right?”

“That’s the job,” Tiffany agrees, “and honestly, even with the two hours of makeup at four in the morning and the fifty pound costume, I love it. I wouldn’t want to do anything else.”

“And it loves you,” Jessica says quietly. The silver screen loves Tiffany, whether as fresh-faced, earnest Wren or fierce, battle-ready Cahira or flirty, playful Hailey. And off-screen, they love her too, she has everyone charmed by her eye smile and bubbly enthusiasm in talk shows and interviews. “You were meant to do this, Tiff, and all those nominations show that.”

Tiffany is quiet for a moment. “Speaking of awards, I’ll see you at the Golden Globes, right?”

Jessica can feel a lump in . “Are you bringing Taecyeon as your plus one?”

“I think, given he has more nominations, I’m more his plus one,” Tiffany laughs. “But yeah, we’re going together.”

Jessica can’t force herself to say something congratulatory, although she tries so hard she almost chokes on that lump.

“What about you?” Tiffany asks. “Are you going with Jay?”

“Oh no, we’re not together anymore. Well, we were never officially together anyway but—yeah. We’re over.”

“Oh,” Tiffany says, quiet for once. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. It never would have worked out anyway.”

“He’s not your type?”

“You could say that,” Jessica says, wondering if she still has a type or if Tiffany has just ruined everyone else for her. “It doesn’t matter. Maybe I’ll bring Krystal. She’s been badgering me about it for ages.”

“That would be adorable, but I hope you find an actual date for the Oscars.”

“Why do I need a date?” Jessica says blandly. “Come on, Tiff, you literally just played a warrior who went around killing men because, I quote, women are better off without them. Cahira would be disappointed in you.”

“Okay, okay, I’m not going to get into an argument with you, especially if you’re going to bring my own character into it.” Jessica can picture Tiffany with that indulgent smile she has when she’s thinking, I know you’re wrong but I’ll let you think you’re right because I’m the bigger person. It would be annoying if that smile didn’t make Jessica’s stomach knot up. “But…you know, there’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you.”

“What is it?”

“I always remember what you told me, that the ultimate success of acting is to totally immerse yourself in the headspace of your character, to really be them rather than just play them. I tell myself that during every role. And it’s helped me so much. Every character that I’ve played, every role that I’ve had, there’s some of you in it. I wouldn’t be here without you.” Tiffany chuckles, sounding slightly embarrassed. “I don’t really know where all of that came from. I just wanted to let you know, I guess. I know we haven’t talked in a while, but I hope you know how important you are to me.”

“Tiffany,” Jessica says quietly, unable to think of any other words.

“Okay, I’m going to let you go now. I know it’s late. I’ll watch the time difference next time. And you can always call me, okay? About anything.”

“Okay,” Jessica says, and before Tiffany is about to hang up, adds, “Tiff?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad that you’re happy. With the movie, with…him. That’s all I want: for you to be happy. I hope you know too. How much you mean to me.”

“Jessi,” Tiffany says, her voice soft, and Jessica knows that she’s going to say something else sweet and sentimental, because she’s Tiffany, but if she does the tears in the back of Jessica’s eyes may spill over into her voice and that’s the last thing she needs.

“I really should go or I’ll be a zombie tomorrow,” she says quickly. “Well, even more of a zombie. I’ll talk to you another day.”

“Okay! Good night and sleep well.”

“Good night,” Jessica says, and hangs up with a heavy touch and a heavier heart. She spends the night sleepless, listening to the air conditioning hum and wishing for a movie-like twist in her own life.

A/N: I am not making this into a multi-chaptered fic. I repeat: I am not making this into a multi-chaptered fic. The last thing I need is another WIP. That being said, I'm not ruling out writing more in this universe, but it'd probably be just a random snapshot that might not even be in chronological order. It depends on how my muse is feeling, I guess.

ETA: I've made this a multi-chaptered fic lmao. You can tell me "I told you so" here.