“Chap­ter 17” opens on a night of qui­et cel­e­bra­tion and reflec­tion, as Celia joins the nar­ra­tor to mark the release of a new arti­cle. While Don is unsure if the deci­sion to release the arti­cle was the right one, and Har­ry is pre­oc­cu­pied with a secre­tive new rela­tion­ship, the nar­ra­tor sees this moment as an oppor­tu­ni­ty to unwind and enjoy life. The evening is spent in the com­fort of the nar­ra­tor’s home, with­out the usu­al entourage or staff, a rare occur­rence that allows the pro­tag­o­nist to feel a bit more human, rather than the pol­ished, pub­lic fig­ure that she is known to be. As Celia search­es the kitchen for a corkscrew, their easy­go­ing ban­ter reveals the stark con­trast between their per­son­al lives and their pub­lic per­sonas. The lack of staff, with the stu­dio still vet­ting appli­cants for a maid, high­lights the vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty and real­ness of the moment, mak­ing the kitchen—a space usu­al­ly dis­tant for the wealthy—feel almost unfa­mil­iar.

The kitchen, in all its domes­tic sim­plic­i­ty, rep­re­sents a part of life the pro­tag­o­nist nev­er real­ly had a chance to expe­ri­ence grow­ing up. Being wealthy has a way of detach­ing peo­ple from the sim­ple plea­sures and respon­si­bil­i­ties of life, such as cook­ing or even choos­ing the right wine­glass. It’s a reflec­tion of how, in the world of the rich and famous, parts of their homes—and, by exten­sion, their lives—can feel like a per­for­mance or set, rather than some­thing authen­ti­cal­ly theirs. As Celia finds the corkscrew and the pro­tag­o­nist fum­bles for wine­glass­es, they share an under­stat­ed laugh, rec­og­niz­ing how much of their lives are dic­tat­ed by oth­ers. Their glass­ware choic­es become a metaphor for their lives: a mis­match of iden­ti­ties and roles, try­ing to find what fits, even as they stum­ble through the motions of their day-to-day exis­tence.

The con­ver­sa­tion shifts to their back­grounds, with Celia reflect­ing on her priv­i­leged upbring­ing in Geor­gia. Despite being sur­round­ed by wealth and fam­i­ly, her life is far from per­fect. Her par­ents, with their notions of South­ern nobil­i­ty, and her sib­lings, some of whom don’t even under­stand her career in movies, paint a pic­ture of fam­i­ly ties that are both suf­fo­cat­ing and sup­port­ive. In con­trast, the nar­ra­tor shares that her famil­ial rela­tion­ships are vir­tu­al­ly nonex­is­tent. Hav­ing been estranged from her father and rel­a­tives back in Hell’s Kitchen, she has no long­ing for those con­nec­tions. This con­ver­sa­tion reveals the divide between the two women: Celia, who has mon­ey and fam­i­ly his­to­ry but yearns for a sense of authen­tic­i­ty, and the nar­ra­tor, who has carved her own path, dri­ven sole­ly by her ambi­tion. It’s a con­nec­tion that tran­scends their dif­fer­ences, one root­ed in mutu­al admi­ra­tion and under­stand­ing of the sac­ri­fices each has made to get where they are.

As the night con­tin­ues, their con­ver­sa­tion becomes more can­did, with Celia show­ing a sur­pris­ing vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty as she dis­cuss­es her desire to stand out in a world that often defines women by their appear­ances. The pro­tag­o­nist, on the oth­er hand, is aware of the atten­tion her looks gar­ner, but it’s the qui­et strength she has built in her rise to fame that defines her. Their friend­ship is test­ed, not by jeal­ousy or com­pe­ti­tion, but by an under­stand­ing of what it means to tru­ly be seen in a world obsessed with sur­face-lev­el beau­ty. As Celia takes the protagonist’s hand, toast­ing to her being “absolute­ly unstop­pable,” their bond deep­ens, show­ing the lay­ers of sup­port they pro­vide for one anoth­er. The cel­e­bra­tion, how­ev­er small and inti­mate, marks a piv­otal moment in their rela­tion­ship: a reminder that behind the glit­ter­ing façades of Hol­ly­wood, there are real, raw emo­tions and strug­gles at play.

When the con­ver­sa­tion turns to their careers, both women express admi­ra­tion for one anoth­er, albeit with sub­tle ten­sions beneath the sur­face. Celia reflects on how the pro­tag­o­nist’s per­for­mance in Father and Daugh­ter was so cap­ti­vat­ing that it left a last­ing impact on her, while the pro­tag­o­nist, ever self-crit­i­cal, deflects the com­pli­ment. Despite the mutu­al admi­ra­tion, the ten­sion between them is pal­pa­ble, with both women strug­gling to rec­on­cile their com­pet­i­tive instincts with their desire to sup­port one anoth­er. The chap­ter explores the com­plex­i­ties of female friend­ships in the high-stakes, image-dri­ven world of Hol­ly­wood, where every rela­tion­ship has its roots in ambi­tion, rival­ry, and shared expe­ri­ences of nav­i­gat­ing an indus­try that demands con­stant rein­ven­tion.

Their dis­cus­sion shifts to more per­son­al rev­e­la­tions as they start a fire in the fire­place, a sim­ple, almost child­ish endeav­or that leads to a play­ful moment of cama­raderie. The con­trast of the warm, inti­mate set­ting with the world outside—the chilly desert winds and the Hol­ly­wood facade—creates a space for hon­esty and vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty. In a world where both women are con­stant­ly per­form­ing, this moment of try­ing to start a fire becomes sym­bol­ic of their desire for some­thing real and ground­ing. Celia, once again, shows her care­free side as she grabs the wine and drinks direct­ly from the bot­tle, a rebel­lious act that only deep­ens the pro­tag­o­nist’s sense of close­ness to her. It’s in these moments, unguard­ed and raw, that the true nature of their friend­ship is revealed—not in the glitz and glam­our, but in the shared under­stand­ing of the pres­sures they face.

Their play­ful moment takes a turn when the pro­tag­o­nist, in a teas­ing act, spills wine on Celia’s shirt. The act, though acci­den­tal, serves as a turn­ing point in their evening—a reminder that, despite the ten­sion in their careers and friend­ships, they can still laugh and enjoy each other’s com­pa­ny. As the pro­tag­o­nist leads Celia to her bed­room to change, they share a qui­et, poignant exchange. The pro­tag­o­nist’s con­fes­sion that she doesn’t know if she loves Don any­more reveals the emo­tion­al tur­moil that comes with their rela­tion­ship. Celia, with her direct­ness, push­es for an answer, but the protagonist’s response shows the com­plex­i­ty of love in a world where pub­lic image often blurs the lines between affec­tion and oblig­a­tion. This moment encap­su­lates the heart of the chap­ter: nav­i­gat­ing love, fame, and the intri­cate dynam­ics of female friend­ships in an indus­try built on illu­sions.

Celi­a’s final ques­tion, “Do you love him?” cuts through the emo­tion­al fog of the evening, and the pro­tag­o­nist’s answer is com­plex and unre­solved. It’s not a sim­ple dec­la­ra­tion of love, but rather an acknowl­edg­ment of the com­pli­cat­ed, lay­ered nature of their rela­tion­ship. The chap­ter con­cludes with the pro­tag­o­nist offer­ing Celia a shirt from her clos­et, a seem­ing­ly triv­ial act that holds deep­er sig­nif­i­cance. The lilac but­ton-down blouse, which doesn’t fit the pro­tag­o­nist well but would suit Celia per­fect­ly, sym­bol­izes the pass­ing of both mate­r­i­al and emo­tion­al wealth between them. In this qui­et moment, as Celia dons the shirt, they share an unspo­ken understanding—both women have found some­thing rare in one anoth­er, a bond forged in the fires of ambi­tion, love, and mutu­al respect. It is this con­nec­tion that will car­ry them through the chal­lenges ahead in the ever-tur­bu­lent world of Hol­ly­wood.