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The A.D. yells cut, and Valeria comes walking up to me.

“Hey, can I get your opinion on something?” she asks.

I’m still basking in the joy of that successful scene. Her voice sounds like it’s coming from far away, especially as Brendan smiles at me from his spot at the camera.

“Yeah, for sure,” I reply.

She leads me through the crew setup to a random bedroom on the first floor where costumes have been stored. There’s a mannequin head with a blond wig sitting on top of a vanity. She removes the head from the table.

“Does this look queer to you? It just—the longer I look at it, the more it looks like a Karen haircut,” Valeria says.

Queer. All the joy from my success with Brendan disappears and I’m left with a sinking anxious feeling. I’m on my game focus pulling, but romance has me back in the clueless baby gutters.

I examine the wig. It just looks like a pixie cut. Fuck, I don’t even know if this is gay.

“Why?” I ask. “I mean, I know why, but…it seems like a basic pixie cut.”

Valeria sighs. “Shit. Yeah.” She runs her hand down her face. “I was gonna actually get this haircut to finish filming, but I refuse to get this if it’s not even getting the point across.”

Jesus, she’s so committed to this queer role she’d get a queer-coded haircut like her character when she could just wear a wig? Her press is in less than two months. Does this mean she’s willing to drastically change her look to make sure Oakley in Flames is authentically queer?

That…sounds very gay.

Is today possibly the greatest day ever?

“So I clearly have a, y’know, femme aesthetic.” I run a hand through my hair. “But my roommate, Romy, is a queer style icon and can definitely recommend a great barber.”

Romy should be off work right now and able to answer her phone.

Valeria’s eyes light up. “That’s amazing. Seriously, I need this done A.S.A.P.”

Romy’s a fan of Valeria. And I’ve been forcing Romy to interpret everything happening between Valeria and me, yeah, but it’s all been filtered through my own biases. There’s no reason Valeria would bring up Sunken City, which I’m starting to think I didn’t even need to lie to Romy about. And I’m growing more and more curious: What would happen if I got Romy and Valeria in the same room? Would Romy stop being weird about how much I talk about Valeria if they had more of a friendship connection?

Romy picks up. “Hey, don’t use your phone in class, Roth,” she says.

I glance at Valeria. “We’re on a break. Hey, what barber do you go to?”

“Are you getting the Bisexual Bob, or is this for someone else?”

I glance at Valeria. “Valeria needs an edgy short cut for Oakley in Flames.”

“Oh. I go to this place on Fairfax in WeHo. My favorite barber’s named Sid.”

I sneak another glance at Valeria. I twist a piece of hair in my fingertips. “Do you wanna come?” I ask Romy. I turn to Valeria. “Is that okay?”

“Are you literally asking Valeria if you can invite me after you invited me?”

Valeria’s lips curl upward; clearly this phone call is not quiet enough.

“It’s cool. I’m happy to meet your style-icon friends,” she says.

I pull the phone closer to my now flushed face. “You’re invited.”

Romy laughs, one of the sweetest sounds in the world. “When should I meet you?”

Valeria flashes me a ten minutes to leaving. “We’ll be leaving Studio City in around ten.”

“Cool. Text me when you’re heading out and I’ll send you the address.”