“and the academy award goes to...” jamie feels her pulse quicken and she can’t help but to space a glance at jesse beside her, then back to the presenter up front. this was it, wasn’t? oh, no, fuck that -- this stupid gold trophy didn’t change anything she did or didn’t do. right? but god, would it feel good to get it regardless. jamie butler from a year ago would have had to see it believe it. but, here she is -- glamorous dress on, makeup more extravagant than it has ever been, sitting front fucking row at the academy awards. to be honest, she hasn’t prepared a speech; with the other women in this category, there’s no way a newcomer can come in and snag it. right? she almost gets lost in her inner monologue until she hears the announcer finally say, “jamie butler.” jaw dropping, heart stopping, she mindlessly looks to jesse with a sort of wonder, gripping at his forearm. “oh my god,” she breathes and she’s saying something to him about how she can’t feel her legs before she’s throwing her arms around him. “jess, what the fuck. what the fuck do i say, i didn’t -- i didn’t prepare anything!”