VIVIAN
The film festival afterparty is everything I hate about Hollywood. Fake smiles. Performative conversations. Everyone pretending they're not judging each other.
Marcus insisted I attend. Good publicity. Networking. Building buzz for the premiere.
I've been here two hours. Said all the right things. Smiled for all the right cameras. Played the role perfectly.
Now I'm outside. On the terrace. Away from the noise. Away from the performance.
The rain starts suddenly. Downpour. LA doesn't get rain like this often. When it does, it's violent. Overwhelming.
Everyone rushes inside. Screaming. Laughing. Protecting expensive clothes and hair.
I stay. Let the rain soak me. Cold. Cleansing. Real.
"You're going to ruin your dress," a voice says behind me.
I don't need to turn around. I know that voice. Know the way it makes my chest tighten.
Chase.
"What are you doing here?" I ask. Still facing away. Watching the rain.
