LITMIR.BIZ

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not the first word I’d use to describe you.”

      “Of course not,” Madison said. “That would be ‘fabulous,’ right?”

      “Oh, totally,” Kate agreed. “So, fabulous Madison, are you going to show up for Gaby’s release or what? Because I, personally, would really love to see you there and I’m sure Gaby would too. I guess Sophia’s supposed to be Madison two-point-oh these days, but I gotta say, it’s not exactly working out. I miss filming with you. It’s not nearly as much fun since you left.”

      Music to Madison’s ears! “I want to be there for Gaby, but I’m not sure about the timing. . . .” She paused, relishing the moment. “Okay, confidentially? I do plan on coming back. I’m waiting for Trevor to meet my terms.”

      Kate’s eyes widened. “Really? Oh my God, that is the best news ever.” She seemed like she might be on the verge of rushing over and giving Madison a hug.

      Madison held up a hand. She liked Kate, she honestly did, but she was just never going to be the huggy type. Also, she was still sore. She got up and dumped the remains of her tea into her spider plant. (Extra nutrients, right?)

      “Yes,” Madison said, smiling contentedly. “I think things are about to take a turn for the better.”

      Despite her words, though, Madison did worry a little that Trevor might hold a grudge because she’d ignored him for so long. But so be it. Could Trevor really blame her? He of all people should know that all was fair in love, war, and reality TV.

      Carmen tried the bathroom door—locked—and then knocked loudly on it. Yes, there was another bathroom in the apartment she shared with Kate, but that one didn’t have the tube of her favorite lipstick sitting on the counter.

      “Hang on a minute,” called a voice. A male voice.

      Carmen sighed. Drew. Again.

      A month ago she’d been complaining that she hardly ever saw her childhood best friend, and now it seemed like he was everywhere she turned. At the breakfast table, eating her cereal. On the living room couch, watching a Lakers game. In the bathroom, holding her cosmetics hostage. Like Carmen’s dad sometimes said: Be careful what you wish for.

      She flounced back into the dining room where the cameras had been set up. Kate was sitting at the table, eating a bowl of Froot Loops. She went through two or three boxes of it a week; she had the appetite of a twelve-year-old boy. Lucky for her, she seemed to have the metabolism of one, too.

      “Cameras roll as soon as I finish this,” Kate said. Trevor’s aversion to filming them eating was well known. “I was starving.”

      “No rush. I was kind of hoping to get my lipstick. . . .”

      “You look beautiful, as always,” Laurel called.

      Carmen laughed as she sat down at her designated seat at the table. “Like I can trust you,” she said. “You just want to get started.”

      Laurel shrugged. “What can I say? Time is money.”

      In another few moments, Kate was done, and Bret the camera guy had taken his usual place behind his Sony Hi Def, but Drew had still not emerged. Carmen was annoyed she hadn’t been able to get to her lipstick. Now she’d look washed out, which was fine when they were filming early-morning scenes, but less fine when it was 11 a.m. and she was otherwise ready to face the world. Her floral silk button-down practically demanded a coat of NARS’s Funny Face.

      Kate brushed a Froot Loop crumb from her shirt and offered Carmen a small smile.

      Carmen smiled back, though she was still annoyed, and then took a sip of her tea. (Drinking on camera was totally fine, of course.) “So, do you think Gaby’ll be different?” she asked Kate, exactly as she was supposed to.

      “I think she’ll be in a better place,” Kate said.

      Carmen laughed. “‘A better place’? I thought that was what you said when someone died.”

      Kate looked mildly affronted. “You know what I mean. Like, emotionally.”

      “Sorry,” Carmen said. “I was kidding.” Then she bit her lip and gazed down into her mug.

      She’d been excited to move in with Kate for a couple of reasons—(a) she had no other place to live at the moment; and (b) she thought they might finally fully make up—but so far it’d been harder than she’d hoped. They kept offending each other in the little ways. Carmen, for example, had invited a few friends over without telling Kate. Then Kate had eaten all of Carmen’s leftover lo mein. Carmen had shrunk one of Kate’s two decent sweaters in the dryer, and then Kate had made some snide comment about Hollywood royalty not knowing how the real world worked. . . .

      They still liked each other, they really did. But for some reason they were having a hard time showing it.

      Carmen wondered if things would ever go back to the way they had been before Luke Kelly walked into their lives. Of course, Carmen was really glad that he had, but he definitely complicated things. Pre-Luke, Kate and Carmen had been great friends, and Carmen was realizing more and more how hard those were to come by.

      She looked up again. Time to get on the ball and give the camera something. “Gaby sent me a letter a couple of weeks ago,” Carmen said. “She said she was learning how to let go of unhealthy influences and finding her inner strength. She said her mantra was ‘Healthy Choices.’” Then she giggled; she couldn’t help it. “I think that’s a brand of soup.”

      “Well, if it works for her, I’m all for it,” Kate said. “But I bet she’s embarrassed at all this. I mean, wouldn’t you be?”

      Carmen shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not like she’s the first person to get confused about the right dosage of her medication.”

      She shot Kate a look. Surely Kate hadn’t forgotten that she’d taken too much Xanax and turned into a walking zombie on national television. (Trevor would cut that line, no doubt, but Carmen hadn’t been able to resist.)

      Kate only blinked at her, as if she really had forgotten.

      “I’m actually really happy for her,” Carmen went on. “I think being at Hope was just what she needed. A break. Time to clear her head.”

      Carmen wished she could have a break, too. Not at rehab, obviously, but say . . . a week at Miravel Resort & Spa? Having a few weeks off from filming had been great, but it wasn’t as if she’d been able to take a break from the rest of her life. From the tabloids, which continued to print lies about her, as well as some private truths. From Sophia, who had taken to calling her daily to talk about how cute their new producer was. And from Krew (or Date—they both worked), who were usually stuck together like Siamese twins.

      Speak of the devil (or one half of it), Drew emerged from the bathroom. In a short pink towel.

      Granted, he was out of the shot, but still—hadn’t he learned to take clothes into the bathroom? Wasn’t that one of the first rules of unofficial cohabitation?

      He gave Carmen a small, apologetic wave. Kate hadn’t seen him, thankfully, so she was still focused on the scene. “I wonder if Madison will be there with us,” Kate said.

      “Yeah. I wonder if Trevor’s going to be able to woo her back.”

      Carmen knew that line wouldn’t make it to air, either, but it didn’t matter. Laurel had already informed them that they were going to shoot this segment several times. “So we have the right lead-in,” she’d explained. Since Gaby was getting out in two days and no one knew whether Madison would show up or not, they needed to cover their bases.

      According to the reality of The Fame Game, Madison had taken a long vacation after finishing

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