The Reunion by Kayla Olson(24)
Hailey scribbles madly on her notepad. Marissa asks us a series of lightning-round questions—favorite episodes, favorite memories on set, scenes we’re most proud of—before moving on to the individually tailored questions. Sasha-Kate’s first this time, but halfway through Marissa’s question, my phone vibrates at my hip, distracting me.
“Of course I did,” Sasha-Kate replies, to a question I didn’t hear. “There was always this sort of duality there, where I had to separate who I was on the show with who I was as a person—but the truth is, there was a lot of overlap. I ended up loving the role of Bianca, but it was hard sometimes because she had so much potential and, you know, never quite got her moment like Honor did. I’m happy with the reunion script, though. I think the writers have put Bianca in a good place—there’s great potential for growth there if, you know, we get to do more.”
I freeze. Even though there are rumors everywhere about us potentially getting picked up for a reboot, everyone from Dan and Xan all the way up to Shine Jacobs has made it clear we are not to acknowledge them—it goes without saying that they really don’t want us feeding the fire with a wink and a smile like Sasha-Kate’s just done.
Marissa, of course, is all over it. “Does this mean what we hope it means?” she asks. “We’d love to see a reboot! There’s so much potential there for a modern, more mature take on how Honor—and Bianca and Natalie, of course—how all the girls navigate the world we live in today.”
Sasha-Kate gives a slow, secretive smile, one that tells me she knows exactly how close to the line she’s come because she’s gone there on purpose. “I guess we’ll see what happens!”
I don’t know what she’s up to. She’s too careful, too calculated, to let things slip. Personally, I’m more than content to avoid the topic—better not to get people’s hopes up, because if things go sour I won’t have to be tagged in endless But Liv basically promised it was HAPPENING tweets. The Fanline execs are intimidating enough as it is, and I don’t want to look like I’m reckless with matters of discretion. And on top of all that, I’m still not sure how I feel about the idea of signing on.
Marissa turns her attention to me. “I want to linger a minute on something Sasha-Kate brought up, how it was sometimes hard to separate who she was on the show with who she was as a person. Liv, we watched a recent interview where you touched on all the pressures that came with being Honor St. Croix—is that why you took such an extended break from acting after wrapping the show?”
“Oh, absolutely,” I say. “Who wouldn’t feel quite a bit lacking when held up to the impossible standard of Honor St. Croix? All of us have experienced that over the years, people expecting us to be like our characters. I needed a break from the scrutiny.”
I needed a break from everything.
“You’ve famously turned down a number of offers for big roles since your time on the show, choosing to focus on only a handful of quiet projects,” Marissa goes on, checking her notes. “How does it feel to be front and center in the spotlight again after staying out of it for so long?”
“It’s different this time around.” Not as bad as I expected, truthfully. “There haven’t been as many cameras or microphones in my face—but thanks to social media, there are more voices in the mix.”
A lot more. Millions, and growing by the day. It’s best if I don’t know exactly how many, or exactly what they’re saying—thankfully, Bre and Attica are on top of all that. Everyone has a camera, everyone has a keyboard. Everyone has an opinion about what I should or should not do with my life.
“The blessing and the curse of social media!” Marissa says with a wink, gesturing to the Snapaday logo behind us. “I can only imagine what it’s like for you, Liv. For all of you! What would you say the best part of that sort of visibility is?”
“The best part?” I repeat. “For me, it’s been the freedom to pursue the projects I love without having to worry if they’ll find an audience.”
“And the worst?” Marissa says, leaning in.
“The false sense of intimacy it creates,” I say. “It can be easy to think you know someone based on the carefully curated moments they’ve chosen to share in snapshots, when in reality, the relationship there is nonexistent.”
In truth, the actual worst thing I can think of carries this idea one step further: that false intimacy can lead to obsession—and when the public at large shares that same obsession, it sparks a lucrative pursuit by the paparazzi.
It didn’t end well for my father. I’ve been reluctant to embrace the same level of visibility.
Marissa moves on to Millie. “Millie, I know this takeover is all about the show, but we can’t resist the opportunity to talk to you about your pivot toward pop these last few years. You dropped your latest single overnight and it’s already at the top of the charts. Can you speak a bit about ‘Midnight’?”
It’s no wonder Millie’s been buzzing all morning—her first albums received mixed reviews, many people unable to get past the fact that they’d known her primarily as Natalie St. Croix since she was five years old. None of her songs ever came close to topping the charts.
“Thanks, Marissa,” she says.
I might be imagining things, but I think she’s picked up on the voice-lowering thing Sasha-Kate does to make people take her more seriously.