“I wish I was famous, life would be great! You get to do everything fun and live the dreams of millions while at the same time being stinking rich!!!”
If only it was that easy…..
I didn’t ask to be famous, it just happened. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time and the rest is history. Sure, being famous can be fun, but it’s not all it’s cracked up to be, trust me. Temptation is everywhere and everyone I know is waiting for me to fall from grace. I don’t even know who my real friends are anymore. Little things like spending time with my family are a distant dream and I wonder if there is anyone out there who truly likes me for me and not just what I can offer them. My life is spiralling out of control and I feel powerless to stop it. If you have the mental strength to cope with this kind of fame at such a young age then you’re a better man than me!
My name is James Pickering and I have the life that 99 percent of people would give their right arm for. If only they knew how shit it was……..
I also wrote a blurb exclusively for this blog:
20 million dollars. That’s how much money James Pickering made as a child actor, but can he cope with the struggle of being instantly recognizable as a result of this? For every action comes a repercussion, and the repercussions of being in the public eye for every tiny thing you do are enormous. Many celebrities have fallen by the wayside trying to live with this kind of intense lifestyle. Will James do the same?
First few paragraphs:
It’s showtime!” I mutter to myself jokingly as if I’m some bad ass gangster from New York. but this is no laughing matter. Only a brief moment of humour when in reality I know this is the end one way or another. It’s 10:15 on the dot, I’m sitting kind of slouched in a red Ford Fiesta that I stole 5 hours ago with a balaclava on like I’m in some terrible film about a bank job. 22 caliber pistol in hand, just waiting for my ex-wife’s parents to leave so i can sneak in the house and murder the bitch. And as I’m sitting here the adrenaline’s pumping and a thousand different emotions are going through my head at the same time. “Is it too late to back out?” “How has it come to this?” I had everything, I was a somebody. I had everything, the black Lamborghini, the penthouse apartment in Manhattan, gorgeous girls who would give their right arm to sleep with me, and now I’m a shadow of my former self. So much so that I can stand in a crowded room and no one even would even recognise me, and in a way that makes me kind of angry. Not at them, but at me. But I’m getting way ahead of myself. let’s start at the beginning…