Long blonde hair, deep blue eyes, gorgeous eyelashes. Everything a girl could ever want. And I have it. I have it all: the money, the fame, the popularity. It’s fab living my life. Some people seem to think rich, famous people are spoilt and only think of themselves. Their right. Well. I’m one of those spoilt, rich kids. Always have been, always will be. But do you know what? I love it, I love it so much that I don’t bad an eyelid to the poor or the dirty homeless. It’s gross how some people live that way.
When I’m on stage, singing and dancing with all the screaming fans looking up at me, it makes me want to throw myself at them, and shout: “I am the best!” Because I am, aren’t I? You may disagree, but it’s only because you’re jealous.
But then, I haven’t always wanted to be this way. I was bullied when I was small, so when I auditioned for the school talent show, I was thrilled when they ordered me to this super cool agent who got me a record deal and my own television role. People began to want to be my best friend when it hit the papers that I’m the third most well paid teenager in Europe. Then, when I think about it, it wasn’t until I got thousands of hits on my first episode of Dawn worldwide, that I got offered movie roles and record labels and everything else in the media industry; people began to scream in my face for an autograph or a photo. I may be a cocky sixteen-year-old girl, but I’m a cocky sixteen-year-old girl with five homes in France, America, Spain, England, Australia and China and a fantastic hair cut.
People say I’m self-obsessed. They say I only think of myself and only myself, I never think of the children who are terminally ill or have dads who abuse them. That’s because there is other people who care more for that than me. Mom complains I’m too arrogant but dad says it’s a phase and will brush off when I get to a certain age. Mom never listens, though. We always have arguments on how I should treat people with how I want to be treated, but I couldn’t give a shit even if I wanted too.
I know I’m pretty, I know I’m rich, I know I’m famous with four record companies and six television channels on my case but in my heart, I love the world we live in, even if I say it sucks ass. I love all animals, even some who are pug ugly, and I love those people who are homeless and mentally ill.
You see, I want to be ignorant, because that’s how I get what I want. When I was little, I lived in a house with four brothers and six sisters, and because I was elder than the others, mom couldn’t give a monkeys bum what I did. How I got attention was to stomp around and scream until I got it, and I guess that’s how I adapted this egotism.
I hate it when people say they look up to me, I hate it when they say they want to be like me, because what they see in the latest Vogue and other glossy magazines, isn’t the real me. Being stroppy and gorgeous isn’t the real me, and I know it.
