Sienna's POV
Vivian and I text for two months before either of us calls it a friendship out loud. It starts careful, tentative, a check-in after graduation, a "how are you holding up," nothing that demands an answer bigger than a thumbs up emoji. Slowly, though, it turns into something that feels almost like what we used to have before any of this happened. A good morning here. A stupid meme there. A voice memo of her ranting about a stylist who tried to put her in yellow. Neither of us rushes to name what we're doing, like naming it might jinx it, might make it real enough to lose again.
There's a particular relief in watching a friendship rebuild itself in small pieces like that.
That's why I'm here, sitting beside her on a cream sectional in a hotel suite in Los Angeles that costs mo
