VIVIAN
The flashbulbs are blinding. I've been standing on this red carpet for twenty minutes, and my face already hurts from smiling. But this is it. This is what I came to LA for.
My film. My first real premiere.
The dress Marcus picked out costs more than my first car. Midnight blue, hugging every curve, making me look like I belong here among the starlets and producers. My hair is perfect. My makeup is flawless. I look like someone who's made it.
Even if I still feel like that girl crying in a bathroom over a billionaire's revenge.
"Vivian! Over here!" A photographer waves me toward their camera. I turn, smile, pose. Flash. Flash. Flash.
"Who are you wearing?" A reporter shoves a microphone in my face.
"Valentino," I say, because that's what my stylist told me to say.
"How does it feel to have your first film premiering?"
"It's a dream come true." The lie comes easily now. I've practiced it enough times.
