Lethal Stardom

I’m on display for all you f%$#ers to see”

“Buy and sell
Like I’m a product to society”

I’ve been on this road of fame since I was 10… and my childhood has faded into nothingness but was only filled with auditions, performances, and stress. Was the perpetual agony of having the simple childhood dream of becoming a pop star really worth selling my childhood to this hell? Once fame began to rise, society only sees me as the cute, bubbly pop star and actress who lives the perfect Hollywood lifestyle. But no ordinary person knows the disturbing truth of this “perfect Hollywood lifestyle.”

Because of all the pressure put on me to be accepted by everyone, I was in complete denial of the fact that life isn’t all about public admiration. “If you’re not pretty you aren’t cut for this role,” they say… “Everyone hates you no matter what,” they say… “There will always be someone better than you,” they say… Success only depends on the public opinion and you must maintain an endless show to get a glance of the sweet taste of satisfaction. I’m sick of this… and I want out of this delusional dream.

“There are strangers takin’ pictures of me when I ask, ‘No more’”

Harsh words if you don’t get a pic with me”

Four hour film production.
Two interviews.
An hour in the music studio.
Yet there is still more work ahead in my day.
I sighed and grunted in exhaustion. Thank god, my heavy makeup concealed the dark circles forming under my eyes. Drained of all energy, coffee was my only resort out of this exhaustion. I dragged myself to change into baggier clothing, tied my hair into a bun, and wore my sunglasses so that no one could recognize my pop star identity as I headed out of my music studio and into the car.

Slouched back, looking downwards at my phone, I waited for my turn in the coffee shop line and avoided eye contact with everyone else. Thank god that I got in line before it got so long. I told the cafe worker my order for a cold brew with salted cream with cold foam and waited for my drink to be called out.
“Order for Annie!” But Annie is only a fake name.

I got out of my seat, and hurried to get my order. As I placed my hand on the sides of the drink, at the corner of my eye I glanced to see the server’s face lit up, plastered with a bright smile.


The cheeks of my face warmed as the rush of red began to race across my face. I covered the rest of my revealing face with the sleeve of my oversized hoodie.

“No… no… I think you got the wrong person,” I stuttered.

But no matter what I said and what I did everyone spread the word and knew about my presence. Although I stress of my tight schedule, I put up a smile for the sake of the fans and took pictures and signed autographs. However, I took a picture with one of my fans and I felt something touch my hip. I flinched, but gave the benefit of the doubt that the person did it by accident. With my best ability to be as polite as possible I said with a smile, “Sorry I know it is crowded but if it is possible please give me a bit of extra space, you’re a bit too close to me,” to the person who touched me. Facing the fan who I took a picture with I said, “Sorry I flinched at the photo. Do you want to retake it?” I took another selfie, yet the touching was still persistent along with the other autographs and pictures.

My eyes darted at my watch, realizing that time had passed by so quickly.
“Sorry but I need to go! I have a busy schedule!” I exclaimed. I crammed myself between the crowd to escape this zoo-like cage. After sacrificing my precious time for the people, harsh words were spoken behind my back, “She isn’t that pretty so it really isn’t worth trying to take pictures with her,” and, “We made her famous so we deserve the five minutes of her own time to get her autograph.” The air became cold but I must set my priorities first. Just as I was seconds from the door, the person touching my hip approached me.

“Before you live can I have a picture with you?”

“I’m sorry but I really need to go.”
I proceed to speed walk my way out of the door, but I was stopped by him aggressively grabbing my wrist. I broke in a cold, hard sweat, unsure if my safety was being threaten.


And I threw my hot, scorching coffee on his face in self defense and ran away to my car to escape.

However this was perceived with misunderstanding and the public saw it as me aggressively raging at a fan for asking for a picture when in fact he was a pervert groping me. Hoping to see if there was evidence of him harassing me with the videos of fans and photos of paparazzi, the cafe was so crowded that it was hard to distinguish if he was close to me or physically touching me. I received comments and threats that were filled with hatred against me, “If she treats her fans like this she doesn’t deserve her fame,”
“I barely knew her but I always had a feeling that she was just a rude little brat who only got attention because of her doll-like face,” “This is her true colors,” etc.

“Then I’ll be watching fame turn to punishment”

“I’m just f&%$ing lucky I was born with it [because]
A hundred million people couldn’t deal with this”

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