Stardom

The fame isn't what it's cracked up to be.

                She wanted everything in life. She wanted it all, the lights, the smiles, the shouts of praise, of pure glory. She wanted the red carpet under her heels, the designers around her far too thin body, jewels worth more than she could ever truly afford. She wanted the fame, the love, the perfection. She wanted stardom.

 

                And when she got it, her heart leapt with glee. She jumped into the world of parties, of neon lights and strangers knowing her better then she knew herself. She could go all night long, never letting the fun die until the sun rose. She could sleep lazily in her master bed, with her pampered eyes shielded by expensive curtains. And when night fell, she could do it all again.

 

                She knew how to turn the charm on, how to wrap directors around her fingertip, how to get the exact part she wanted, whenever she wanted it. She could glisten on the screen, her face painted on, and the world would love her, see her just as she wanted to be seen.

 

                She could spend her time, not in movies or at parties, with other stars, shining bright, all the men she dreamed about, they could be hers. She could be that girl hanging off his arm on the red carpet, and she could be that girl on the cover of every magazine, seen as the “luckiest girl alive”. She could have it all, be it all.

 

                But one day, it will become too much. Her parties will be longer and longer, until they never end, and her tired eyes never close. She’ll never again know the darkness beyond the neon glow. Her dresses will fade, her jewels will dull, and her heels will break. Eventually, her charm will fade, and she will age, and no one will want her. And no matter how plastic she becomes, she will always be out dated.

 

                And then it will all be gone. Her fame, her fortune, her men and her image. The world will see the real her, broken behind a mask of plastic and expensive cover-up. And then she won’t be beautiful anymore, and she won’t be on the cover of anything, even the story of her own life. They’ll find someone half her age to play her.

 

                And then what will she have gained? In the end, her stardom, it will lead to nothing but her misery, her loneliness, and her ultimate deletion.