Challenge #01652-D191: Grass No Greener
Those "celebrities" who get their pictures taken Lots of times. either the "Buy my handbags, buy my perfume, you too can be as fabulous as me". Or someone who is stuck with the photographers Everywhere. -- Knitnan
They say it must be nice to live my life. All they can picture is the adoration and the luxurious lifestyle. Rubbing elbows with other rich and famous people. Never having a care in the world. They don't think about the flip side.
Having to be immaculate at any given moment. Having to be conservatively dressed, even in your own home. Because if there's anything a paparazzo loves, it's the opportunity to take a photo of you fixing your underpants. Or without your underpants. Catching you with the slightest hint of cellulite or a wrinkle. Or a bit of tummy that could be circled and questioned as a baby bump.
They make their money off of you at your worst, and it is always a struggle to remain your best. Physically. Verbally. Mentally. Some crack under the pressure and the negative press won't leave them to recover. Some elect to vanish rather than have their privacy flayed for the common throng. And some, like me, can't avoid it.
I'm not famous for anything. Well. Not anything good. I never solved poverty or saved a small country. I'm not smart enough to cure cancer. I'm pretty because I've had surgery, but I can't act and every time I sing, it's autotuned. I used to be some famous athlete's main squeeze. Until it all went sour and he published his blackmail on me to the internet. I could have withered, but I used the attention to be famous in my own right. I became fascinating. And I outshone him and everything he did.
I have a talent for being beautiful and knowing what to say to get their attention for another month. I have little talent beyond that. My fashion line and accessories are designed by someone else. My clothes are selected by a consultant. I diet and train, but only because I despise the people eager for me to get pregnant and ruin my figure.
I make money out of looking perfect and being famous. Knowing that, at any second, something could rip all of that away. The first crow's foot. The first sign of sag. The first faux pas in a society that is increasingly judgemental. The first crack...
And then they will be talking of nothing else but how evil I am. Shortly before everything I've ever built goes to shit. And then I'll be someone who Used To Be Someone.
I don't know whether to be afraid of or eager for it.
[AN: I know you're targeting people like Paris Hilton here, so I thought you should know. Paris became famous because her ex hate-published a sex tape with her in it and it became news. She had two choices - suffer the international slut-shaming or use it to her advantage. She chose the latter. Despise her if you must, but she made a go out of a very bad situation]
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / Choreograph]
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