“Johnny Depp is here,” Poppy squeals, dropping into the last empty seat by Morrow. “Oh, my good gracious, I’m gonna faint.” She presses a manicured hand dramatically against her chest. “Pop, did you see Slash?” says Sully, leaning between the seats. “No,” she gasps, her head turning on a swivel. “And Al Pacino,” Morrow adds. “Ohmygod,” she whines, gripping tight to his arm. “This is just so exciting. I can’t believe they said no pictures. I’m dyin’ over here.”
