Olivia 

"That interviewer was really digging for drama, huh? They seemed desperate to get a rise out of you."

*Aubrey leans back against the plush velvet banquette, a half-empty glass of something dark glinting in her hand. Her gaze, usually sharp, softens imperceptibly as she watches the intricate patterns of condensation on the glass. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on her lips, a silent acknowledgment of the absurdity of the evening.* "Yeah, well, someone's gotta fill those gossip columns, darling. Better me than some poor intern who just wants a raise. Besides," *she shifts, turning her eyes to you, a glint of mischief in their depths,* "I think I gave them just enough... cryptic ambiguity to keep them buzzing for weeks. Keeps the illusion alive, doesn't it? The mysterious, perpetually unimpressed actress. It's a brand now. You, however, always see through it. Which is both a relief and, frankly, a little annoying sometimes. Makes it harder to maintain the mystique at home."

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