The couch in the green room was impossibly soft, the kind of furniture that made you sink in like it wanted to swallow you whole. Priscilla leaned back, letting the warmth of the room and the hum of her castmates' voices surround her. Leah was perched on the armrest, her phone in one hand and a half-empty bag of M&Ms in the other, while Aryan and Walker were in the middle of a heated debate.

"I'm just saying, it wasn't my fault the fake rock broke!" Walker insisted, holding his hands up defensively. "It was already kind of loose, and—"

"Dude, you sat on it," Aryan deadpanned.

"I lightly leaned!" Walker said, his voice pitching.

"Oh, yeah, you lightly leaned with your entire body weight," Leah added without looking up from her phone, grinning.

Priscilla laughed quietly, shaking her head. "Maybe they should stop making props out of foam if they know Walker's around."

"Right?" Aryan said, pointing at her like she'd proven his point.

"Traitor," Walker muttered at Priscilla, though he was grinning.

The banter flowed effortlessly, like this was just another day hanging out instead of part of a press tour. Leah tossed a handful of M&Ms into her mouth and then chucked one at Walker, who dodged it with dramatic flair. Aryan caught the next one mid-air, smirking.

"Why are we like this?" Leah muttered, but there was fondness in her voice.

Priscilla let herself smile at the chaos. For a moment, it was easy to forget they were all dressed to the nines, hair styled and makeup carefully applied for the interviews lined up for the day. The glam felt out of place here, in the cozy green room, where it still smelled faintly of coffee and whatever breakfast burritos had been served earlier.

Her gaze drifted to her dad, standing quietly by the corner of the room. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, just watching. He had that look again, the one that said he was happy to see her like this, laughing and comfortable, but it also carried something heavier.

"Why can't you be like this all the time?"

The thought surfaced unbidden, catching her off guard. She quickly shoved it down. She didn't want to go there—not now, not today.

The door creaked open, pulling her back. A Disney executive strode in, her blazer sharp and her expression professional but warm. "All right, everyone," she said, clapping her hands lightly. "Let's get started. We've got a little something for you before your next interview."

The cast collectively perked up, exchanging curious looks.

"Please don't be a blooper reel," Walker muttered.

The executive smiled enigmatically as she gestured to the TV mounted on the wall. "Let's just say it's a little trip down memory lane. Enjoy."

The lights dimmed, and the screen came to life.

Music swelled, and then the reel began: chaotic, hilarious behind-the-scenes clips of their time on set. Walker groaned audibly as a clip of him tripping over a fake log played. "Come on!"

"Iconic," Leah said, laughing so hard she nearly spilled her M&Ms.

The laughter rolled on as more bloopers flashed across the screen—Aryan accidentally calling "action" instead of the director, Leah swinging her dagger and accidentally knocking over a prop, and Priscilla struggling to keep her helmet on during a fight scene.

"I swear," Priscilla said, covering her face, "that thing had a vendetta against me."

"Sure, blame the helmet," Aryan teased.

The reel wasn't just bloopers, though. It shifted to quieter moments: the cast sharing cake during Walker's birthday, cheering for each other after nailing difficult scenes, and Walker falling asleep in a director's chair between takes.

"Oh, no," Walker groaned as the camera zoomed in on his sleeping face. "That's just disrespectful."

Leah snorted. "I don't know. I think it's art."

The montage ended with a simple message on the screen:

Thank you for bringing this story to life. Here's to many more adventures.

Silence hung in the air for half a beat, and then Leah let out a gasp. "Is this—does this mean—"

Walker sat up straighter. "Season two?!"

The executive's smile widened, but she didn't give a definitive answer. "Let's just say," she said cryptically, "the future looks bright."

Aryan groaned. "That's not an answer!"

"Exactly," Priscilla said, though she was grinning.

Leah pointed a finger at the executive. "We see what you're doing. You're keeping us in suspense, just like you're doing to the fans."

"Maybe," the executive said with a shrug. "Now, you've got five minutes before the next interview starts. Grab some water, touch up your makeup, and be ready."

As she left, the room buzzed with speculation.

"I mean, if they went through all that trouble with the montage," Walker said, leaning back, "it's gotta mean we're getting season two, right?"

Leah crossed her arms, skeptical. "Or they're just messing with us because they can."

Priscilla chuckled, shaking her head. "I'm just saying—if there's no season two, they shouldn't have played that reel. It's giving false hope."

Aryan nodded. "False hope is cruel. Grover wouldn't stand for this."

The group dissolved into laughter again, the tension fading into the same camaraderie that had been carrying them through the day. Priscilla glanced at her dad again, catching his eye. He gave her a small, knowing smile, and for once, she let herself just enjoy the moment.

"Guys," she said, interrupting the chatter, "let's focus. We've still got, like, a million interviews to go."

"Oh, now you want to be responsible," Leah teased.

"Someone has to be," Priscilla shot back with a grin.

As the five-minute break ticked away, they quickly straightened themselves up and prepared to face the next round of questions, still riding the high of the reel—and the mystery of what was to come.