Since I have literally no idea what is going on in the show, this has no foothold on any of it.
She never tells the truth. Everything she says is a lie. Even that, since sometimes she tells herself small truths. Sometimes. Very rarely. She can't even truly remember what truth sound like. What it feels like as it collides and jumbles in your mouth and through your body.
Lies are easier. Safer. She's in control this way. The lies make her powerful. No one can take advantage of her now. She lies about everything, to everyone.
Mostly to herself.
Lies about liking the burning sensation she gets from smoking, about the feeling being soothing. She tells herself she can stand the feeling of it, the smell of it. Tells herself she loves it. She tells herself that she hates being in control, even when she truthfully wishes she could control everything, or even just one thing. She's reckless. And she loves it. Drinking her way to oblivion and forgetfulness and to a place where she can control nothing, to a place where all the truths hidden inside of her slips away and she can be free. Less in control. More in control.
She's reckless and daring and she loves it. Or she doesn't, but she doesn't tell herself this truth. She's bold and fearless and mysterious and scary. No one can mess with her this way, or in any way.
She's forgotten the truth about herself, and on the rare occasions that the truth seeps back in, she wills it away with another smoke and another few drinks. It's easier to lie. Easier not to remember that she's scared and shy and quite predictably boring. Not scary at all.
If she can't even remember that truth, how will anyone else?
She's bold. No one will mess with her.
A small truth she allows herself sometimes: she's messed up.
A small truth she never allows, she'll never allow, not from anyone: she's broken.
She never tells the truth.
She loves him. (Lie)
He loves her. (How utterly delusional can she possibly be?)
She's strong. Always strong. Or at the very least, the alcohol is. Strong enough for both of them.
She doesn't ever tell the truth.
She's happy. She knows what she wants in life. She knows who she is.
They say an actor's biggest challenge is to forget himself in the face of his character. Perhaps that's why she's in this business. Why she's so good at this. Because she's no one. She can't lose herself, or struggle to lose herself when none of who she is, is real.
She's no one.
She doesn't know who she is underneath all the lies and the masks. She's perfect for fame. (Some allowed truths)She's perfect for life. (A complete and utter lie)
Another small truth she allows herself: she's alone. Utterly alone.
And she's fine with that. (Lie) This way there's no one to hurt her. No one there at all.
She's strong. When you're alone you're free of weaknesses. Also free of life and love, but that's a small price to be invincible.
Invisible.
No more people to see behind her walls. What walls? (Sometimes she's good at lying to herself.)
The biggest truth she'll allow right now: sometimes she's pretty sure there's nothing behind these great big walls she's constructed to perfectly, so painstakingly.
Invisible. Dead. Nothing.
So maybe it doesn't matter whether she's telling the truth or not. She's nothing. She doesn't matter. None of it matters.