Lights, Love & Lip Gloss by Ni-Ni Simone

Author:Ni-Ni Simone
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2014-11-10T16:00:00+00:00

13

Heather

“You’re boring. The world is no longer checking for you. Anymore. We tested the pilot and your ratings broke a world record. They are the worst anyone’s ever seen. Something’s gotta give or you gotta go!” My producer, Philippe, had barged into my room this morning, interrupting my on-camera confessional. “You may as well drop the mic and exit stage left. Again. The critics were crystal clear. No one wants to see a has-been Wu-Wu, the ex-junkie. And her washed-up drunk of a mother.”

“I resent that! I have an audience!”

“You’re right, you do. But it’s one, two, maybe three of your redneck West Virginian relatives sitting around at your family barbecue, bashing you and your mother! Not enough to get you any sponsors or a prime-time slot. You want to be a where-are-they-now special? I can get you on at three in the morning. You want to be a star, then you get your behind up and go and get the Pampered Princesses!”

“Never!” I jumped off the edge of my bed.

“Then you will never be a hit.” He paced. “You will always be a has-been. And it’s not that we didn’t try. Oh, we tried. But your mother is some sloppy drunk who only wakes up once a week to refresh her drink! And to think we not only bought her act, but that dear, sweet Kitty believed she’d stopped drinking! We’ve all been duped!”

“That’s not my problem!”

“It is your problem!”

“The world wants to see my life!”

“The world wants to see you, Spencer, Rich, and London, together! The insides of the crazy antics of the Pampered Princesses! I can see it now!” He gave a tight smile and then turned back to me. “Now, if you want to continue your career on TV then you get us in the palace or get shut down.”

“My show will be a hit! I will be a hit!”

“At the rate you’re going, you will be no more than the new millennium’s Dana Plato married to a recycled Todd Bridges!”

I gave Philippe a blank look and he returned my stare. “Do your history, Miss Actress!” He shoved his beet-red face into mine. “The kids from Diff’rent Strokes! Now the choice is yours. You either do what you gotta do to get back into the good graces of the Pampered Princesses”—he dusted his hands—“or our work here is done . . .”

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