But even if we teased about it, we also loved it—a long-lost princess, believing herself orphaned, fed up with the system that shuffled her in and out of foster homes. Living on her own at the edge of a forest, strong and resourceful. Hiding her circumstances from everyone at her high school, including the handsome boy in her English class who wrote noncreepy poetry—a feat, let’s face it—and always packed an extra sandwich for her just because. Sibby and I were so invested that we probably would have burned the movie theater down if Princess Freddie (real name: Frederica, of freaking course) didn’t get her happy ending (crown, castle, tent on the grounds, poet-sandwich boyfriend), so it’s a good thing it all worked out for her.

And I guess it also worked out for the young starlet who made Princess Freddie a household name, because on Friday afternoon I’m standing in the doorway of her and her actor-turned-director husband’s brand-new row house in Red Hook—part of a line of buildings that are similar to brownstones in that they’re shoved all together, but dissimilar to brownstones in that they are brutally modern, some faced with wood siding dry-burned black, some with what reminds me of the dull side of aluminum foil, some—including this one—with orange-rusted steel. They all have huge, high windows on the second and third floors, the kind a fancy decorator would tell you absolutely cannot have curtains. It’s not my taste, but I’ve lived in this city long enough to know that this sucker costs at least two million, more depending on what’s beyond this doorway.

I’m sure I’ll get a peek at it soon, but right now I’m still too busy concentrating on keeping my mouth from hanging open as Lark Tannen-Fisher’s assistant, Jade, shows me a piece of paper that she “totally promises” is not legally binding but that also contains scary words like practitioner (which I think means me) and termination (which I don’t think means murder, but who knows). I’ve only been here for three minutes, tops, and even though I know I’m not going to take this job until I have an attorney (yeah, I know when to call an attorney! Suck it, Reid!) look over this thing, I’m still having trouble moving past that first minute, when Jade explained who I was about to meet.

Again: a motherfucking movie star!

Jade smiles an extra-white smile at me when I look up from the non-legally-binding paper. “Lark is so excited to meet you. She loves your Insta.”