Toxic

5 A STAR IS BORN

“You have amazing skin.”

Hanna closed her eyes as a makeup artist named Trixie brushed blush over her cheeks. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“And really pretty eyes, too,” Trixie added, her breath smelling like violet candies.

Hanna giggled. “Do you work on commission or something?”

“Nah.” There was a sharp click sound as Trixie closed a compact. “I just tell it like it is.”

It was Wednesday, and Hanna was sitting in the very same soundstage in West Rosewood where she and her father had filmed the drunk-driving PSA. Now the place was bustling with different interior sets, a million lights, cables, and microphones, and tons of writers, directors, and crew members. It was day three of Burn It Down production, and they were filming a scene where Spencer and Aria received a creepy postcard from New A about Jamaica. Hanna’s big scene as Naomi Zeigler was coming up soon.

The director, a portly man named Hank Ross who was apparently the guy in the movie business—Hanna hadn’t seen his latest conspiracy thriller, but she was definitely going to check it out—stood. “Cut!” he yelled. “I think we got it!”

Hanna watched on a video screen as Amanda, the girl who played Spencer, and Bridget, the girl who played Aria, relaxed. Hanna agreed with the director: The girls had nailed it, perfectly embodying her best friends’ personalities and mannerisms and expertly conveying how scary the situation with Ali had been without resorting to camp or melodrama. All the actresses in this movie were awesome, in fact. The woman who played Spencer’s mom had even won a Golden Globe.

Then Hank noticed Hanna behind him and gave her a big smile. “Doing okay?”

“Great.” Hanna smiled, adjusting her short blond wig. It was styled to look exactly like Naomi’s pixie cut, and it actually looked amazing on Hanna. That wasn’t the only amazing thing. When Hanna had arrived on the set, Hank had given her a script of a few lines, stuck a camera in her face, and asked her to “be natural.” If it had been a test, Hanna knew she’d aced it when she saw Hank’s toothy grin after she said her lines. “Yep, the camera loves you,” he’d said generously.

Then she’d been shown her trailer—her own movie-star trailer, complete with a small bed for naps, a vanity with three types of flattering lighting options, and a refrigerator for the two coconut waters she’d brought after reading in Us Weekly that Angelina Jolie drank coconut water, too. A production assistant had whisked her off to wardrobe, where a talkative costume designer put her in a fabulous patchwork dress and studded booties. The outfit was way too cool for the real Naomi, but Hanna looked so good she wasn’t going to quibble.

She’d barely had time to memorize her lines for the first scene—a quick one where she and Jared Diaz, the admittedly gorgeous boy who played Mike, gave each other suspicious looks across the cruise deck. But she’d sailed through that, too. Maybe it was easy to get into Naomi’s character since she’d known her for so long.

Or maybe it was because she was a natural and her next stop was definitely Hollywood.

Hank slid off his chair and went to talk to the actresses on the other side of the wall. Hanna reached for her fringed leather bag hanging from the back of one of the chairs and removed her cell phone, eager to send some updates. First, she checked Twitter: Two hundred people had retweeted her post about how awesome the craft services spread was. Her stepsister, Kate, reposted the tweet with a series of exclamation points. The real Naomi Zeigler, whom Hanna had made sure had seen the news that she was playing her part in the movie, replied dislike in all caps.

Hanna composed a new text to Spencer, Aria, and Emily. You guys really should be down here, she wrote. You could so score a part.

Spencer replied after a beat. I don’t think I’m ready to reenact my worst nightmare, she wrote. But I’m glad you’re having a good time. Break a leg!

Aria sent a congratulatory note as well, and Emily said there was no way she was getting in front of a camera—she’d break out in hives. But hey, did I tell you Jordan wrote me from prison? Emily added at the end of her text. I’m going to visit her in a few days!

Hanna grinned. She was glad Emily had something amazing going on in her life, too. They all deserved good things.

She wrote Mike next. A star is born!

He pinged back an answer. Are there any hot girls there? Take pics!

Hanna snickered and looked around. There were tons of hot girls in the cast, on the crew, and even in catering. Suddenly, she clapped eyes with the only person in the cast she hadn’t met yet. Her long, dark hair was unmistakable. It was Hailey Blake. The Hailey Blake.

Hailey’s eyes widened when she saw Hanna across the room. “Oh my God. Oh my God,” she said, pushing her stylists aside and rushing over. “It’s you! Hanna Marin!”

Hanna tried to answer, but Hailey grabbed her hands and rushed on. “I have been dying to meet you all day, but I had this thing this morning that I couldn’t get out of.” She rolled her eyes and mouthed the word overslept. “Anyway, it is so awesome that you’re here! Are you loving it? Has everyone been nice to you? If anyone’s mean, I’ll kick their ass.”

Hanna’s mouth fell open. Hailey’s public persona was a sugary-sweet girl next door, but in person, she was whip-thin, her dark hair was cut in funky layers, and she wore a pair of over-the-thigh boots Hanna could never pull off without looking slutty. And what was this about ass-kicking?

Hailey turned to one of Hank’s assistants, a pale, vampire-esque guy named Daniel. “Hey. Does Hanna have a few minutes to hang before our next scene?”

“Well, I’m still working on her.” Trixie rushed forward with her makeup kit. “I needed to get a different blush color.” She held up a compact full of pink powder.

Hailey sniffed. “That new color is hideous. She looks fantastic already.” She linked elbows with Hanna. “Come on.”

Daniel gave Hanna a strange look. “I’d be careful, if I were you,” he said, his sunken eyes wide.

“Oh, please.” Hailey rolled her eyes and yanked Hanna around the set. “I swear everyone who works with Hank has a vagina,” she whispered loudly to Hanna before they were out of earshot. Hanna glanced apologetically back at Daniel, hoping he didn’t think she’d said it.

They crossed the soundstage, climbed a set of stairs, and walked down a narrow hallway that overlooked a few cruise ship sets. Halfway down the hall, Hailey opened a door with her name on the front. Inside was a room with furry pink wallpaper, a couch in the shape of pursed red lips, a mini-fridge, a SoulCycle spinning bike, and a bookcase filled with trashy magazines. Hanna glanced at a vanity, where pictures of three different guys were arranged. Each one was cuter than the last. She was pretty sure she’d seen one of them in the latest Jake Gyllenhaal blockbuster.

Hailey noticed her looking. “My three boyfriends. Adorable, aren’t they?”

Hanna frowned. “You’re dating them all at the same time?”

“Uh, yeah,” Hailey said. She dug out a pack of Parliaments from a corduroy pouch atop the fridge. Lighting one up, she flopped onto the lip-shaped couch and exhaled blue smoke. Then she extended the pack to Hanna. “Want one?”

Hanna hesitated, not having smoked since she was best friends with Mona Vanderwaal. She took one but didn’t light it.

Then Hailey’s phone bleated the ominous, two-note theme from Jaws. “Ugh, sorry,” she said, looking at the screen. “What do you want now, Mom?” she screamed into the phone. She paused, then sighed. “I told you they were lying about that. Who are you going to believe, me or him?”

Hanna started for the door, figuring Hailey wanted privacy, but Hailey signaled her back, making a winding-up gesture that she’d be off soon. “You are being such a bitch today,” she yelled into the phone. “Your shrink needs to up your meds.”

Then she hung up and smiled at Hanna. “Sorry about that!”

Hanna gaped. “Was that really your mom?”

Hailey shrugged. “She so isn’t in my corner sometimes.”

Hanna blinked hard. If only she had the balls to talk to her father like that.

Hailey took another drag of the cigarette. “So. Hanna Marin. I’ve watched all your interviews.”

Hanna felt her cheeks grow red. “You have?”

Hailey shrugged. “I had to figure out who you are since I’m playing you.” She leaned forward. “You are the most poised of the group. Definitely the coolest. I feel so lucky to play you.”

Hanna lowered her eyes. She certainly hadn’t felt cool or poised in the past few months—in the past two years, actually. “I’m the one who should feel lucky. It’s a dream that you’re playing me.”

“You really think so?” Hailey clutched her hand to her chest. “You are so, so sweet!”

Hanna was about to say that Hailey probably heard that stuff all the time—she’d won a zillion People’s Choice Awards, after all. But Hailey leapt off the couch and moved closer to Hanna, suddenly pumped with even more enthusiasm. “We should really get to know each other. Maybe you could show me around Rosewood? Or wait, we’re not that far from NYC, are we?” She squeezed Hanna’s hands hard. “I can get us into any club in Manhattan. Tons of bouncers owe me favors.”

“Okay,” Hanna said breathily, trying to imagine the jealous looks on everyone’s faces when she walked into a club with the Hailey Blake.

“We should take Jared, too.” Hailey looked excited. “He’s hot, don’t you think? And so nice. I could totally fix the two of you up.”

It took Hanna a moment to realize she was talking about Jared Diaz, the boy who played Mike. “Um, I already have a boyfriend,” she said, laughing. “The real Mike.”

All at once, someone exhaled behind them. Hailey’s door was open now, and Daniel, the director’s assistant, stood in the dressing room. Hanna nearly yelped. There was something definitely creepy about his almost translucent skin and thin lips, and the way he’d slipped soundlessly into Hailey’s room. Hanna wondered how someone like him could have gotten such a plum job.

“Ladies?” he said, his eyes narrowing at the swirling smoke. “We actually need you downstairs for the cruise scene.”

Hailey’s face soured. “Already? My contract specifically states downtime. I’m calling my agent to complain.” She reached for her phone, then rolled her eyes and let it drop. “Oh, whatever. I’ll let you slide this once.”

She stubbed out her cigarette on the floor. Daniel led them down the stairs, and Hailey squeezed Hanna’s hand. “Always remember, you’re the talent,” she whispered. “Don’t let them push you around. They’re supposed to cater to you.”

Hanna couldn’t help but giggle.

Hank was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. “About time,” he said, glowering at Hailey. “Marissa wants to get you in a different outfit. She’s been looking for you for a while.”

“I told Daniel I was in my dressing room,” Hailey snapped. “It’s not my fault he doesn’t give you messages.”

Hank ignored this, turning to Hanna. “You’re in the crowd, honey,” he said in a much gentler voice. He pointed across the room to what looked exactly like the deck of the Eco Cruise complete with the brass railings, a tiki bar in the corner, and purple plush booths along the walls. There was even a reggae band absently plucking their instruments.

Hanna said good-bye to Hailey, who still looked pissed off, and sat down at a nearby table with Penelope Riggs, the girl playing Riley. Hanna’s only instructions for this scene were to make it look like she and Riley were having a conversation and to shoot Hailey-as-Hanna daggers every so often. In moments, Hailey reappeared in a beachy sundress that looked precisely like something Hanna would wear. She stood within earshot of Hanna, and Hanna could hear Hailey repeating a bunch of muh-muh-muh vocal exercises under her breath. What a pro, Hanna thought. Maybe she should do vocal exercises, too.

Hank disappeared behind the wall of cameras. “And, action!” he yelled out, and the cameraman moved in on Hailey. The band started to play. Hanna turned to Penelope and pantomimed a conversation in a low voice, but her attention was really on Hailey across the room. She wanted to see how Hailey played her in this scene.

“You’re not going to believe this, Hanna,” Bridget-as-Aria said as she ran up to Hailey, her eyes wide and her mannerisms perfectly Aria-like. She clutched Hailey’s hands. “Graham, my partner for the scavenger hunt? He was Tabitha’s boyfriend.”

“Oh my God,” Hailey said exaggeratedly, her mouth dropping open. “You have to get rid of him!”

Hanna tried not to twitch. Why was Hailey using that weird Valley Girl voice? Her voice didn’t sound like that, did it?

“I can’t just get rid of him,” Bridget argued. “What if he suspects something is up? Maybe I should just tell him the truth.”

“No way,” Hailey said, popping out a hip. “Like, Aria, that is the last thing you should do.”

Then she made vigorous chomping movements, like she was really chewing hard on a huge wad of gum. Hanna felt queasy. She didn’t even chew gum.

“Cut!” Hank cried a few moments later, reappearing on the set. Hanna figured he was going to give Hailey some advice on playing Hanna—she kind of needed it. But instead, Hank walked over to the band, speaking in a low voice to the lead singer.

Hailey turned and glided to Hanna’s table, her eyes shining. “So?” she chirped. “Don’t I make an ah-mazing you?”

She looked so pleased with herself. And though Hanna was kind of offended at, well, everything Hailey had just done, she couldn’t imagine saying so.

So Hanna smiled brightly. “You were great,” she said in a small voice.

“Okay, everyone, places!” Hank interrupted, running back to his post. “We’re going again!”

The cameras rolled once more. The band launched into the opening bars of “Three Little Birds,” and the partygoers milled around happily. Hanna pretended to talk to Penelope, all the while keeping her eye on Hailey as she did the scene exactly the same way, gum-snapping and all. A horrible feeling welled in the pit of Hanna’s stomach. If Hailey kept this up, Hanna would be the laughingstock of Rosewood—and FIT—once this movie came out. People would do hip-popping, gum-chewing, Valley Girl Hanna impressions. What if they actually thought she was like that?

She turned her head to idly look around the rest of the set, hoping for some distraction. Suddenly, a flash of blond hair shot through the back of the room. Hanna did a double take. There was another streak of blond. Hanna’s heart started to pound. There was something about the person’s movements that filled her with jitters.

She half-rose to her feet. The girl playing Riley gave her a strange look. “What are you doing?”

“Cut!” Hank yelled again. Everyone broke character. Hanna thought he was going to reprimand her, but he went over to Bridget. Seizing the opportunity, Hanna shot off the chair and pushed through the crowd. She had to see who that blonde was.

She had to weave around a lot of kids, fake palm trees, bistro tables, a large statue of a scuba diver, and several huge potted plants to get to the back. Then she peered around into the sea of extras. None of them was Ali. Spots formed in front of Hanna’s eyes. Had she imagined it?

But one of the exit doors was easing shut. Hanna rushed for it, nearly tripping over a light cable. She almost had her hand on the knob when someone grabbed her arm. She whirled around, her heart thudding hard.

It was Jared, the guy playing Mike. “Hanna, right?” His eyes shifted back and forth. “Everything okay?”

Hanna looked at the door. “I—I need to go outside for a sec.”

Jared shook his head. “Not through that door. An alarm will sound. Hank will freak.”

Hanna glanced at the door again. EMERGENCY EXIT, read big, bright letters above it. “But someone just went through here, though, and nothing happened,” she protested weakly. Her head was suddenly swimming.

Jared patted Hanna’s arm and guided her away from the door. “Take a deep breath, okay? I’ve worked on a lot of films, and first days can definitely be hairy. I’ve seen people with way more experience panic much worse than you.”

“But I’m not . . .” Hanna trailed off. She wasn’t panicking. She’d been perfectly calm and centered before Ali appeared in the crowd.

Only, had it been Ali? How could someone go through an emergency exit without setting off the alarm?

You imagined it, she told herself as fake-Mike escorted her back to the scene. But she peeked behind her one more time to be sure Ali wasn’t there.

She wasn’t, of course. But Hanna still had the eerie sense she was close. Watching.