"How's Los Angeles this time of year?"

Monroe pinched her brows. "You've never been?"

"Not for a while. I prefer... well, almost anywhere else."

Nora avoided holidays in Los Angeles like the plague. Not because of the people or anything. Many amazing, diverse communities called Los Angeles home. A city where some of the most interesting characters roamed free. But the only time she ever traveled there in recent years was for work, and even then she hated it. Perhaps it was the result of growing up in a small town where fresh air was in abundance. She couldn't fucking stand Los Angeles smog.

"It's alright." Monroe swiped blush across her cheeks that smelled of strawberries and cream. "My wife and I just got back from Seoul so it's kind of a buzzkill. I miss the food. And public transit."

It had been a while since Nora visited Korea. The States was the only home she had ever known, and she couldn't imagine living anywhere else, but she missed it every day she was away. Memories of a life she could have lived there flashed through her mind like a reel of someone else's movie she wished she starred in, even if only as a supporting role.

"Adopt me and take me back?" Nora asked with a smile.

The makeup artist snapped the compact closed. "I'll give Zoe a call."

"Much appreciated."

As Monroe stepped away to take a call, Nora swiped the brow pencil from the counter to complete the finishing touches herself. Like many things in her life, her brows were a particular aspect of her makeup routine over which she required complete control.

When Roslyn got their big break, Nora had no idea just how much she would come to hate looking in a mirror. It wasn't her favorite pastime even before they skyrocketed to fame, but the aversion grew significantly in recent years. She assumed it had something to do with, funnily enough, not having to look in the mirror to see her face anymore. Nora, along with the rest of Roslyn, was plastered across the world with catchy phrases that highlighted their achievements. It should have felt like a success, and maybe in another world with a different mind it would have, but it felt like staring at somebody else who looked just like her. In fact, Nora felt like the imposter while the version of her that had been placed on a pedestal was the real person.

Was it normal for someone in her position to feel nauseous each time they stared at their reflection? Maybe if she was that character in a movie, she would smear lipstick across the shiny surface, or slam her fist against it until it shattered in her hands as easily as all of her naivety of what it meant to succeed.

Someone knocked at the door of her room.

"Come in," she said. And then, "Never mind. Please come back later."

Porter laughed as he leaned against the door frame with a slick smile that teased her through the reflection in the mirror. While she would never be attracted to him for obvious reasons, she admitted that he was an attractive person. Anyone could see that. And he knew it too, though he didn't flaunt it in the way a lot of other people she had met in the industry did. Maybe if they had fared more as strategic allies instead of friendly foes, she would have found this trait charming. Nora wondered what he saw when he looked in the mirror.

"You're not making it through today without talking to me."

"I haven't even had my coffee yet. Give me a chance to breathe."

"One coffee, coming right up." He took a step back, tucking his pen back into his shirt pocket. Porter had a habit of clicking it when he was deep in thought. He was often deep in thought, and Nora was often deep in sensory overload around him.

"You don't even know my—"

"As if you'd drink it any other way than straight black."

Nora tipped her nose. "That was a lucky guess."

"Or maybe you're a little more predictable than you realize."

Monroe slipped back into the room with her eyes darting between them. They had all crossed paths more than once throughout their careers thus far, and while Monroe offered her best advice for working with someone she didn't necessarily get along with, she also found their dynamic amusing and had said as much the last time they were all in the same room together.

"Are you already bugging her?" Monroe asked Porter.

He pressed a hand to his chest. "Here I was, offering to get her coffee, and this is the thanks I get?"

"You'd sooner see pigs flying in LA than get a thank you from Nora," Monroe said with a laugh.

Nora tried not to cringe too hard. She couldn't be surprised by the reputation she had earned, even when illuminated in a joking manner by someone she considered a friend.

"What do you mean?" Nora chose to play along. "Maver catches flights in and out of LA all the time."

Monroe giggled into her hand.

"I'll be right back," Porter announced before disappearing. "Mon, don't let her escape, please."

"No promises. Asian girlies gotta stick together."

Nora saluted him, but he had already turned around.

While the music industry was full of shitty vultures whose only aspirations were to strip artists bare of what made them who they were, what made them special and inspiring, in order to cash in on their success—God, she hated that word—Nora found solace in those who reminded her of home, even if they were often ships passing in the night.

"You know, one day you're gonna have to get over that bad review," Monroe said. "It's been, like, five years."

"Bold of you to think a creative type wouldn't be petty enough to remember their very first bad review." Nora leaned back in her seat, dodging her reflection. Even if she was dressed to the nines for some magazine she spent her entire youth passing, wondering why she only ever saw white faces staring back at her with a galaxy of compliments surrounding them, it wasn't enough. She hadn't endured quite enough therapy to unpack that yet. "It wasn't an Escape Velocity or Curtain Call, but damn, cut us some fucking slack."

"First of all, Stevie and Maverick would literally smack you in the face for comparing all of your amazing albums as if they aren't the best damn things to grace the music industry. Shut up, you know they would. Don't you remember them going to war for Midnights?"

That was a hell of a trending week on Twitter. "Yeah. So. I already try not to compare myself to MARS every damn day of the week. Porter sure knows how to give them a glowing review." Not that they didn't deserve them. MARS was one of the reasons Nora knew she wanted to pursue music. She had no ill will toward them.

"MARS' trajectory has nothing to do with yours. You're all stars in your own right. And Porter's opinion is just one among millions. And trust me when I say that millions of people love what you offer the world. I know it's easier said than done, but you can't let the negative noise drown out all the good."

Nora nodded silently. Monroe was right; it was easier said than done to believe in yourself.

A few minutes later after the makeup artist had left to perform the rest of her duties, Porter placed a cup of coffee onto the counter in front of her and took the now vacant seat where Monroe had been.

"Ready to unpack the last six years?"

No, she wasn't.