Wilford takes them back to his dressing room, motioning toward the empty seat in front of his desk. He shoves the over-sized monitor whose main purpose is to act as a barrier when he doesn't want to talk to people, and pulls out some papers from a filing cabinet.

"We start at sixteen, plus mileage. You're responsible for tracking your hours. You're an adult, so nobody's going to be checking all your sheets, but it will be noticed if you're making shit up."

He thumbs through the small packet he pulls out, making sure it's the right set of forms. It looks like everything's in order, so he hands them over, along with a pen from a cup on his desk.

"Things are different here. I'm sure Tess told you that much, but you'll figure out the rest on your own pretty quickly."