The Reunion by Kayla Olson(37)

I spent so many months back then trying to convince myself we were better off as friends, best friends who also happened to have incredible on-screen chemistry. As best friends, we could enjoy each other without risking a messy breakup. As costars, we could enjoy countless inside jokes and endless days on set together, all while making bank off of said chemistry. Why risk ruining it all?

Except then, in our final season, our scenes were more intimate than ever, blurring the line between fiction and reality all the more. So many times on set, it never felt like acting. We were closer than ever off-screen, too, both of us confiding things in the other we’d never told anyone else. He was my best friend, and I was his, and it sometimes felt like we were teetering on the edge of more.

But I was wrong then, too: one thing led to another, and one step back turned into a total break.

Then came the end of the show. With it, the end of us.

Now that Ransom and I are together on set again, the years between us feel like a long, looping detour: it’s like we’ve picked up at the exact same spot. We’re older now, our skin thicker—but underneath it all, we’re still Liv and Ransom, whose foundation was each other for so, so long.

I feel the exact same spark between us, the exact same chemistry.

More of both, if I’m honest.

And though I try not to think about them, I feel the exact same fears, and new ones, too: that I’ll let him in—even closer than before, at the rate we’re trending—only for us to be torn apart in spectacular fashion all over again.





Rumors of Fanline Merger with CMC/Snapaday


By Anna Lindell // Associate Editor, Arts & Entertainment, Sunset Central

Rumors began to circulate this weekend after Fanline founder and CEO Shine Jacobs was spotted at bougie brunch spot Travelō with Marco Ferracora, CEO of television giant CMC (known most recently for their multimillion-dollar acquisition of social media site Snapaday).

Jacobs, who became a household name three years ago after taking Fanline from simple online media hub to the premier streaming service in the industry, has notoriously refused a handful of acquisition offers in the past, to her obvious benefit. But could this brunch signal a change in the wind? And if so, who would be acquiring whom?

It’s tough to say. Some speculate there may be trouble beneath the surface of Fanline’s flashy neon logo: that their acquisition of the rights to Girl on the Verge’s upcoming twentieth-reunion special—and a rumored, still unconfirmed reboot to follow—was a last-ditch effort to draw viewers to the platform. Others insist they wouldn’t have been able to acquire said rights in the first place without significant resources; we need only reflect on the cast’s infamous salary negotiations to surmise that’s definitely a point in favor of Fanline doing much better than its detractors might argue—that not only are they surviving in this present market, they’re thriving.

Enter CMC.

The California Media Corporation, or CMC, has been gathering up speed this past decade and expanding its acquisitions far beyond the coast for which it is named—prior to the Snapaday acquisition, CMC snapped up a trio of print, broadcast, and film conglomerates based in Milan, Bangladesh, and S?o Paulo. With Snapaday, they expanded their social media footprint; now, the only horizon left unturned is a streaming service. Most of Fanline’s rights catalog is a bit dated, though—and while said catalog will be a perennial vein of rich income for decades into the future, some say they need a current hit to do more than break even, especially after dropping such massive bank on the Snapaday deal.

We’ve reached out to both Fanline and CMC about this potential match, but for the time being, spokespersons for both have declined to comment. More updates to come as the situation develops.





12




What does one wear to a nondate on a beach that happens to be in your own backyard, with a guy you once knew as well as yourself until you suddenly didn’t, who—not for nothing—also has lips you inexplicably want to lick the sugar off of at the most inappropriate of times?

This is the question I’ve been mulling over in my closet this evening. Ransom’s seen me in literally everything, from red-carpet glam to slouchy tour joggers and sweatshirts to silky camisole sets while shooting bedroom scenes together, yet here I am, overthinking this as if it’s the very first time he’ll see me in person at all.

In the end, I go with beach casual—light-wash denim cutoffs, a faded oversized V-neck tee and a chunky-knit cardigan at the ready in case it gets breezy, leather sandals and a fresh coat of polish on my toes, an armful of friendship bracelets sent to me by fans over the years, my hair loose and wavy—and dig out an indigo beach blanket my mother gave me as a housewarming present back when I first moved in.

There’s a knock on my door at precisely seven thirty. Like me, Ransom has also changed clothes since the table read and is now wearing a pair of slim-cut dark chinos with a chambray button-down shirt that’s cuffed at the elbows. I can’t help but notice how handsome he looks in the evening light. His forearms have always been glorious, the sort of effortless lean muscle gym rats would kill for, and his chunky analog watch—dials upon dials, three knobs, matte black fixtures against an olive-green band—only enhances the appeal.

He smiles when he sees me, a full-wattage thing that’s entirely contagious. “Hi,” he says simply.