The offices of Creative Artists Agency are all marble and glass. Every surface reflects. Jordan Peele sits across from our class in the lobby—gray hoodie, hood up, and candy-colored Reeboks. Someone’s assistant walks over to him, heels clicking, and shakes his hand. I cannot tell if this is the first time they have met, or if this routine has been performed many times before. They enter one of the elevators; each elevator has a glass back so that you can see every level you rise above fall down below you. A couple minutes later, our class takes the same elevator several floors up to meet with an agent at CAA. We meet in a beautiful conference room that looks onto skyscrapers reflecting sky.

Then, an hour or so later, our class is at an In N’ Out. There’s a massive line and half of it hangs out the front door. Outside, I watch a spilled milkshake melt in the sun and run towards the trashcan, pooling around some french fries and pieces of lettuce. I’m not entirely sure why, but I find this incredibly comforting.

Days later, I keep returning to that day, when we visited sparkling CAA and followed it up with a sloppy fast-food lunch. I came to Los Angeles knowing only what I’d heard from friends and prepared mostly by what I saw in the movies. I wanted LA demystified. But it’s a complicated place, and the fraction of it that I have seen has given me no easy answer. Parts of it have reinforced the glamour and mythology of Hollywood. Other parts have revealed something more ordinary and uninspiring. It’s kind of like whiplash, between the decidedly dressed-up CAA offices and the greasiness of the In N’ Out. I have found this both intimidating and reassuring—kind of like the term ‘business casual’.

However, I have been most surprised by and thankful for the kind people we meet. Yesterday, our class met several Foley artists at Warner Bros.—they are responsible for creating sounds and soundscapes for films from scratch. They were hesitant to talk to us at first. But once we piled into their studio, they were like kids, excitedly showing us how old handbags and broken tables pressed and pulled in the right ways sounded like a creaking ship’s mast. Just this afternoon, my Uber driver was an actor who had small parts in The Walking Dead Ep. 602 and the upcoming film about Anita Hill. He insisted we become Facebook friends when he told us he was from Denver and discovered we went to school in the Springs. It’s these people I meet who will leave more of an impression on me than any serene corporate lobby or messy fast-food joint. They are the reason this sprawling city breathes, and the reason I might come back.