A black-and-white video starts. A feminine-presenting human—Lucy, I guess—is recording a commercial with a bottle of medicine or a vitamin or something in their hand. They keep taking spoonfuls of the liquid and look totally disgusted. Kind of like how I feel looking at the dirtiness of Hollywood. But as the clip goes on, and Lucy gets the name of the drink wrong over and over and over, I can’t help but laugh.

“Okay, that’s actually pretty funny.”

Sean beams. “All these people around this star love Lucy.”

“Ha! Good one,” Kavya says. “I love Lucy!” She looks at me expectantly, but I just frown at her instead.

“It was the name of her show,” Sean explains. “But look in front of you.” He points down the sidewalk where there are dozens of more stars lined in front of us. “And behind you.” Over my shoulder, it’s the same thing. “Each star represents a person in Hollywood who changed lives, who connected with others across the country, across the world, thanks to their art.”

Maybe I was too harsh on this place at first. The exterior of Hollywood Boulevard may look bleak, but the people themselves seem ecstatic to be here. So many conversations are happening near each star, people laughing, taking pictures, even posing with other humans dressed up as superheroes and look-alikes of actors next to their real images on giant posters.

It’s connection, it’s community, it’s a shared admiration of others bringing people together. Like when we come together back home to watch schools of manta rays glide in the most ethereal dance, or to hear belugas sing to each other.

“I guess Hollywood’s not so bad, after all.”

Sean puts his fingers between mine again and says, “Follow me. I have so much more to show you.”

     Sean     

Whoopi Goldberg (accompanied by that epic scene where she leads Lauryn Hill and the rest of the choir in Sister Act 2), Samuel L. Jackson (“I have HAD IT with these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane!”), David Bowie (whose tights-bulge in Labyrinth actually made Ross blush and Kavya cackle), and Lucy Liu (whose black leather outfit in that computer engineer scene of Charlie’s Angels made Kavya say, “I must have a thing for Lucys”).

The night is going so well. Ross starts hopping from star to star and asking, “What about this one?” or “Who’s this?” They take me so far along the walk that we reach stars I never even saw with Dominic, old movie actors or directors that we get to look up together, huddled side by side over my phone. Even though she’s laid down the Bestie Card, Kavya doesn’t make me feel bad that she has to watch the same clips on her own phone. She’s a good bestie and I owe her big-time.