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underageā€”even though Iā€™m sure no one would actually serve me. Or I could just hide in the hotel and hope that Penny doesnā€™t notice Iā€™m missing. Because Penny is the only one who would notice.

Penny and maybe Marius.

Maybe it isnā€™t fair that Iā€™m avoiding him right now, but I donā€™t feel like being fair. Iā€™m angry. Actors who work with Lennox have to sign nondisclosure agreements, but Iā€™m sure there are stories swirling around. There have to be, if Penny and Julia know other women Lennox has hurt. Marius must have heard something.

I want to know why Marius would even consider working with Lennox when there are so many stories. If I got an offer to be in his movieā€”which I wouldnā€™t, but stillā€”I would say no. Even if it meant that I didnā€™t get to be famous.

ā€œThatā€™s not really fair, though,ā€ Alice says after I explain all of this to her. ā€œBecause you arenā€™t an actor. Acting isnā€™t your big thing, but it is for him. You donā€™t really care like that.ā€

ā€œI care!ā€

ā€œI mean,ā€ Alice says, ā€œnot like an actual actor does, though.ā€

Sheā€™s already dressed, wearing this fancy black dress thatā€™s so low-cut you can tell she isnā€™t wearing a bra. Itā€™s really hard not to be jealous of Aliceā€™s body sometimes. She has curves, but in the right placesā€”her hips and her ass and her boobs look the way theyā€™re supposed to. Or the way girls on TV and in magazines look, anyway.

I, on the other hand, am half dressedā€”which means Iā€™m sitting on my bed in my underwear and have not actually put any real clothes onā€”my stomach and boobs and thighs too big for me to ever look like her, unless I dig the Spanx out of my suitcase. I pout.

ā€œI guess,ā€ I say. ā€œBut itā€™s likeā€¦if a gigantic magazine gave me the opportunity to write a cover on Ava DuVernay or something, but I knew the editor of the magazine had done horrible things to women, I wouldnā€™t be able to say yes. Iā€™d feel too shitty about it.ā€

ā€œBut thatā€™s a hypothetical,ā€ Alice says, leaning toward the mirror to put on an earring. ā€œYou say that now, but youā€™d probably say something different if you actually were faced with it.ā€

ā€œI donā€™t think itā€™s that hard to say you wonā€™t work with bad people.ā€

ā€œItā€™s not a contest, Josie,ā€ Alice huffs. ā€œIā€™m just saying that not everything is black and white.ā€

I stare at the bedspread. Sure, not everything is black and white, but thereā€™s a difference between working with someone who mightā€™ve done something normal badā€”like made a nasty commentā€”and someone who consistently harms other people. Yet I canā€™t help but wonder whether Iā€™d feel differently if I were in Mariusā€™s shoes. I donā€™t know. I still think I would choose not to work with them. I still think I can be mad at Marius about it.

Alice tosses a skirt at me, covering my head. I grunt.

ā€œHurry up,ā€ she says. ā€œI told Savannah weā€™d get there early.ā€

Everyone else at the party looks like they just stepped off the runwayā€”gowns of soft red and black and green paired with elegant high heels. Iā€™m wearing a black skirt, because Alice made me, and a yellow blouse. Thatā€™s it. I immediately stick out.

ā€œGod, where were you?ā€ Savannah says to Alice, appearing next to her in a cute red dress. ā€œYou said you were getting here early.ā€

I think Iā€™m staring too long at her legs. The hard thing about being attracted to girls is that Iā€™m never sure if I want to be them or be with them.

ā€œJosie took forever,ā€ Alice says, an eye roll in her voice. ā€œItā€™s whatever. Whereā€™s the open bar?ā€

ā€œIn the other room,ā€ Savannah says, pointing down a dimly lit hall. Everything here is wooden floors and warm, dim lighting and the gentle murmur of polite conversation. ā€œYouā€™re missing a rousing debate about which movie is Cassavetesā€™s best.ā€

ā€œOh,ā€ I say. This I can do. ā€œObviously A Woman Under the Influence.ā€

ā€œThatā€™s what you would think!ā€ Savannah says, turning to me. ā€œBut then one guy said Faces, and now no one will shut up.ā€

ā€œOkay.ā€ Alice stares between the two of us. ā€œThis is big nerd talk. Savannah, letā€™s find the bar, and Iā€™ll tell you about this gorgeous guy I saw on the High Line.ā€

Savannah grins at me and I grin back. I like talking about moviesā€”or filmsā€”with other people. I donā€™t feel like Iā€™m the only one who cares about them.

ā€œIs Josie coming with us?ā€ she asks, looking at me.

ā€œJosie is underage,ā€ Alice points out helpfully.

Savannah shrugs. ā€œSo are we.ā€

ā€œYeah, but Josie is technically working,ā€ Alice says, already walking toward the next room. ā€œAnd we are not.ā€

I wish I had a great comeback prepared, but I donā€™t. The truth is, I donā€™t want to hit up the open bar. I donā€™t even want to be here in general. I smile at Savannah as she follows Alice down the hall, trying to think of things I could include in my article. There will probably be speeches at some point that I can quote from. Iā€™m sure it would be wise toā€¦mingle? The only thing is, Iā€™m not great with small talk, especially with people I donā€™t know.

At parties, Iā€™m usually the person standing against the wall, watching as everyone else has fun. And itā€™s pretty much my own faultā€”after all, I could trail around after my sister and Savannah if I wanted to. But in some ways, itā€™s easier to be here by myself. Itā€™s something I can handle.

I only recognize a few people in the roomā€”a few New Yorkā€“based directors of the indie variety, an actor or two. Itā€™s weird to see celebrities in real life. Itā€™s like they arenā€™t supposed to exist off a screen. Thereā€™s one woman in particular who catches my eye. I know her from somewhere. Then she turns her head and I recognize her immediately. She looks perfect: straight blond hair, blue eyes, a movie-star smile. Tallulah Port.

Sheā€™s one of

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