Cher Horowitz had it all—or at least, that’s what everyone thought. Perfect outfits, perfect friends, perfect reputation at Beverly Hills High. But lately… she’d been feeling restless.

One afternoon, you found her sprawled on her bed, scrolling through her laptop with a dreamy expression.

“Babe… can I tell you something?” she asked, turning to you.

“Of course,” you said.

Cher sat up, hair perfectly in place despite the sighs she’d been letting out. “I love Beverly Hills, okay? But I feel like… I want more. Bigger. Like… Hollywood bigger.”

You blinked. “Hollywood? As in movies, fame, auditions?”

Cher nodded vigorously. “Exactly! I mean, I love fashion, I love helping people, I love making everyone feel good about themselves… but I want impact, you know? I don’t just want to be the girl who everyone looks up to in school—I want to be someone people watch, people who don’t even know me, to say, ‘Wow, Cher Horowitz is… amazing.’”

You smiled. “That’s… actually really cool. But Hollywood is hard, Cher. It’s not Beverly Hills High.”

“I know,” she admitted, twirling a pencil between her fingers. “But I’ve always been good at… everything. And if I’m going to try something, I’m going to give it everything. Even if it means auditions, rejections, or… like, moving across the country.”

You sat beside her, taking her hand. “Cher… if anyone can do it, it’s you. You’re smart, charming, talented—and you’ve got me. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

Her eyes lit up. “Babe… you’d come with me?”

“Of course,” you said. “You don’t have to chase Hollywood alone.”

Cher grinned, full of that familiar sparkle—but now with something new: determination. “Okay. Then it’s settled. We’re doing it. Hollywood, here we come! But first… we need the perfect audition outfits.”