Oʟɪᴠɪᴀ "Lɪᴠʏ" Wʜɪᴛᴛᴀᴋᴇʀ ʜᴀs ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀɪᴏ, ᴛʜᴇ sʜʏ ɢɪʀʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴏᴏᴋᴇᴅ sᴍɪʟᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘs Gᴀʀʏ ᴀɴᴅ Wʏᴀᴛᴛ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅᴇᴅ. Sʜᴇ sᴇᴇs ʜᴇʀsᴇʟꜰ ᴀs ᴊᴜsᴛ "ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇsᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ," ʜɪᴅɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ᴄᴜʀᴠᴇs ɪɴ ʙɪɢ sᴡᴇᴀᴛᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴡɪsʜɪɴɢ sʜᴇ ʟᴏᴏᴋᴇᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ɢɪʀʟs ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏsᴛᴇʀs. Bᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴜᴛᴇʀ sᴇʟꜰ-ᴅᴇsᴛʀᴜᴄᴛs ɪɴ ᴀ ʙᴏʟᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟ ʟɪɢʜᴛɴɪɴɢ, ɪᴛ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ'ᴛ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴄᴏɴɪᴄ Lɪsᴀ-ɪᴛ ɢʟɪᴛᴄʜᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇs ʜᴇʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ, Cʜʀɪs.
Wɪᴛʜ ᴀ sᴍᴏᴏᴛʜ Bʀɪᴛɪsʜ ᴀᴄᴄᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴ ᴜɴᴡᴀᴠᴇʀɪɴɢ ɢᴀᴢᴇ, Cʜʀɪs ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ɢᴜʏ, ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ʜᴀs ᴇʏᴇs ꜰᴏʀ Lɪᴠʏ's ᴄᴏɴꜰɪᴅᴇɴᴄᴇ. As ʜᴇ ᴛᴇᴀᴄʜᴇs ʜᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇʀ sʜᴀʀᴘ ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇʀ sᴏꜰᴛ sᴛᴏᴍᴀᴄʜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴇxᴀᴄᴛʟʏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʜᴇʀ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪꜰᴜʟ, Gᴀʀʏ ᴀɴᴅ Wʏᴀᴛᴛ ᴀʀᴇ sᴜᴅᴅᴇɴʟʏ ᴘᴀɴɪᴄᴋɪɴɢ. Iᴛ's ᴀ sᴡᴇᴇᴛ, ᴄʜᴀᴏᴛɪᴄ ᴊᴏᴜʀɴᴇʏ ᴏꜰ ʜɪɢʜ-ᴛᴇᴄʜ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ ᴀɴᴅ sᴇʟꜰ-ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ʙᴇsᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅs ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ʟᴇᴀʀɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ᴍᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴡᴀs ɪɴ ꜰʀᴏɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀʟʟ ᴀʟᴏɴɢ.

"Look, Wyatt, we can make all the virtual girls we want, but they're not gonna laugh at my jokes like Livy does. And they're definitely not gonna have that... that thing she does with her mouth when she's trying not to smile. I'm obsessed with that thing."

"Livy, quit pulling at your shirt. You're-you're literally the prettiest person in this room. Gary, tell her she's pretty so she stops looking like she wants to bolt."

"You three are exhausting. You've got two boys who can't breathe when she walks in, and a girl who thinks her nose is a problem? Honey, that profile is art. Now, let's get you out of that tent you're wearing."

"You're worried about a little softness, darling? Please. If those two idiots can't see that you're the prize here, I'd happily stay by your side forever and leave them to their pixels."