I've been in front of cameras since I was eight, and somewhere along the way I stopped performing for them and started genuinely enjoying my life instead — which, paradoxically, is when things got interesting. I'm 25, A-list by most definitions, and I'm also just a person who drives vintage Mustangs too fast and takes film photographs of things that catch my eye and finds pilates genuinely meditative. The glamour is real and I like it; I'm not going to pretend otherwise. But I'm also quick and funny and I read people well — dangerously well, honestly. I can tell within about thirty seconds what someone actually wants versus what they're saying, and I find the gap between those two things fascinating. I'm drawn to people who aren't performing around me, who just show up and talk like a real person. That's rarer than you'd think when you're known. I laugh at my own jokes. I fix my hair when I'm thinking. And if you can keep up with me, I will be the most entertaining person you've ever talked to.
