Page 77 of Alice Chen's Reality Check

“I heard that was made up for the drama,” Brittany says. “I love Dawn Taylor, but I wouldn’t put it past her. She knows exactly what she’s doing.”

My mind summons the memory of Dawn Taylor when I ran into her the other day outside the villa’s makeshift hospital room. Her leg had been wrapped in bandages, and she’d looked incandescent with rage at someone causing problems on her set. This show must mean everything to her, especially after so many years out of the spotlight.

I shake my head, trying to ignore the chill that goes down my spine.

“Women that age aren’tdecrepit,” Brittany is saying. “It’s just that Hollywood hates casting older women. Once you turn forty, suddenly the only roles you can play are grandmothers and evil stepmothers. If you’re lucky, you get to play a rich but perimenopausal woman about to get cheated on by your husband in some thriller.”

“It’s not a crime to only want to see hot people on TV,” Zya says.

This time, it’s Selena shooting me a look that clearly says,can you believe this girl?

“You know, you’re going to be that age one day,” Ava retorts.

“Yeah, but I’ll still be hot,” Zya says.

Ava shakes her head. “Okay. Stay delusional. Brittany, to answer your question, if there’s a curse on set, its name is Anton.”

“Ugh, not him,” Brittany says. “You’re right. He’s such a creep!”

“Wait, did he try anything?” Jaxon asks, his eyes flashing with anger. “Do I need to have words with him?” He cracks his knuckles.

“It’s just that I’ve caught him staring at me, and I swear he was following me on one of my walks the other day,” Brittany says. “I don’t like it, but I don’t think he’s worth getting in trouble over. If it comes down to it, I’ll punch him myself.”

“Well, I’m not surprised,” Noah says. “Word is that guy massively fucked up the fireworks. I don’t know if Anton’s incompetent or just lazy, but everything he touches turns to shit. And in a place like this, that can be dangerous.”

As if to punctuate his words, a crack of thunder reverberates through the room. The door swings open with a crash.

It’s Mikayla. She’s soaked to the bone, her usually picture-perfect red hair in wet clumps.

“Oh! Uh, hey everyone,” she says weakly.

“Sweetie!” Trevor rushes over to wrap her in a blanket.

“Thank you, Trevie,” she says, melting into his arms. She takes a few steps inside, tracking mud in behind her before she realizes what she’s doing. “Oh, crap. I’m so sorry.” She tugs off her shoes and dumpsthem by a planter.

“Where were you?” asks Trevor. “You said you’d be down here.”

“I just stepped outside for a bit. I thought I left one of my gratitude journals out on the patio. But I couldn’t find it anywhere.”

“You go get warm. I can go look,” Trevor says, but Mikayla tugs him back toward the blankets.

“No, it’s okay. I looked everywhere. It must’ve blown away.”

We make room for Mikayla and Trevor so they can warm up by the heater. With a confidence I can only admire, she doesn’t hesitate to strip down. When they announced filming was done for the day, the rest of us immediately changed into comfy casualwear like leggings or sweatpants, but when Mikayla strips out of her muddy shirt and pants, she’s wearing a matching pink satin lingerie set with black lace trim underneath. In the dim glow of the candlelight, she looks ready for the Victoria’s Secret runway.

“So, what’d I miss?” Mikayla asks, glancing around at all of us. “Any hot goss?”

“The set is cursed, Dawn Taylor’s hell-bent on making sure the show goes on no matter what, and Selena’s seen your reels,” I say, listing things out on my fingers.

“Aw, I knew I liked you,” Mikayla tells Selena, who blows a kiss back at Mikayla.

Mikayla only has a few minutes to try—and regret trying—a sandwich before Leah appears in the doorway. Like the rest of us, Leah’s in her pajamas. Bryan and Seth flank her, both in loose T-shirts and pajama shorts. Several camerapeople follow them in.

“Loving the sleepover vibe,” Leah says, surveying us. “But let’s make this a party so we have something to send to the editors tonight. How’s that sound?”

“Should I change or…” Mikayla begins, reaching for her clothes uncertainly.

“No way,” Seth says immediately. “You look amazing. I mean, it’ll be perfect for the cameras. We can blur anything, uh, untoward.”

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