HDU (40 page)

Does it
feel good to pick on an easy, defenseless target? Are you honestly making fun
of her for having to move into a somewhat shoddy studio apartment? I sincerely
hope that when she inevitably gets a job to pay for her rent, you don’t stake
out her workplace and shame her for being a waitress.
 
I know what you’re trying to do: You’re trying to make her
into a C or D-list celebrity because they’re ever so fun to laugh at.
 
To you, it’s a dirty job that
some
one’s gotta do.
 
So with your constant attention, you’re trying to pressure
Amanda Nathan into feeling as if she can’t return to a normal person’s life
– as if she has no choice but to participate in some degrading
“celebrity” dating show where she’s forced to kiss a range of nerds and frat
boys on camera, because she needs the quick money to finance looking good in front
of those persisting paparazzi lenses.

This is
sick and cruel.

For the
good of our society and its increasing need to watch others spiral into disgrace,
please stop.
 
Of all people, I
don’t want to see sweet and genuine Amanda Nathan forced into the life of a public
trainwreck.

“Sweetheart, it hurts my heart to see you like this!”

The spiky-haired paparazzo outside Amanda’s apartment
was grinning despite his claim, snapping pictures as she walked down the
steps.
 
There were three more
behind him, taking shots of her old brick building with its paint-chipped front
doors.
 
It had been a week since
the breakup had been confirmed and nearly two since she’d moved into the apartment,
but the world had yet to grow tired of seeing her new and fascinatingly
unglamorous residence – “
AMANDA
NATHAN: FROM PRINCESS TO PAUPER
,” a headline had read.

But according to the art school student she had
sublet from, Amanda’s miniscule studio for the next two months was a
steal.
 
She, however, wasn’t sure
which end of the deal the “steal” referred to.
 
For thirteen hundred-fifty dollars a month – a
whopping fifth of her earnings from her contract with Liam – she had
gotten herself a dingy and sparsely IKEA-furnished studio on Tenth Street
between Avenues B and C.
 
But thankfully,
having recognized Amanda, the student graciously agreed to sublet the space without
requiring a security deposit.
 
She
even offered some friendly advice regarding the neighborhood.

“You’re a pretty far walk from the subway, so maybe
take cabs at night, because Avenue C can get shady after like, 10pm,” she had
said before handing over the keys.
 
“Also, the guy who lives downstairs is psychotic – he’s going to
pound on the door at 1am if he hears you walking around ‘cause the floors are super
creaky, so you should try to tip-toe or just go to sleep by the time he does.
 
Which is around ten-thirty.
 
But sometimes earlier.”

It wasn’t extremely inspiring, but for the price, the
place was the best deal Amanda could find in the shortest amount of time, and
she’d been determined to be on her own.
 
The concierge at the hotel had informed her that her suite was
still being paid for, but it didn’t feel right to stay if the perk was no
longer part of a working contract.
 
And of course, the room made her think of Liam and she needed badly to forget
about him.
 
It wasn’t as if she
could resort to calling him for further explanation or writing him emotional
emails in order to find closure.
 
It was
business
.

So after a few days of sheepish tears and Craigslist
perusing, Amanda moved out.
 
Liam
wasn’t out of her head yet – not even close – but she was
determined not to let him define New York for her the way Megan and Brandt did
St. Louis.
 
So she threw herself
into an array of distractions as she had with her last breakup.
 
Then, she’d eaten a lot of Oreos and
read tons of celebrity news articles for comfort.
 
This time, since she was
in
those articles, it was a different routine.

During her first day on her own, she researched how
to best sell the cashmere coat that Liam had bought for her from Barneys.
 
By the second day, the media had begun
calling to ask if they were still together, so she distracted herself by turning
off her phone and dedicating her time to finding Ian, who’d been MIA since the
L.A debacle.
 
But his apartment was
empty, his phone went unanswered and his social media accounts were inactive.
 
The futile search had twisted Amanda’s
stomach with guilt and worry – though some of the wrenching was probably also
thanks to hunger.
 
By the third day
on her own, Amanda had resolved to subsisting on Cup Noodles, what with no job
and half her savings tied down to a few months of rent.

At least by day four, she seemed to be thinking
slightly less about Liam.
 
But then
of course, he texted.

On the plane to
Omaha and just wanted to thank you for everything, Amanda.
 
I obviously couldn’t have done this
without you.
 
Take care.

She’d reacted to the message with a face as if she’d
smelled something putrid.
 
He was
back to that stupid cordial tone, which she found insulting despite the fact
that though they no longer shared any sort of relationship.
 
But she simply missed the real
Liam.
 
Which is pathetic
, she told herself.
 
Being heartbroken over a breakup was normal, but this hadn’t
been a real relationship, so she couldn’t let herself indulge in those feelings.
 
The idea of getting hung up over a
fake boyfriend made Amanda actually shiver with embarrassment.
 
Don’t
be a freakshow
, she scolded herself.
 
It was one month and it meant nothing
to him.
 
He’s Liam Brody for God’s
sake, he’s probably already forgotten about you.
 
Do the same to him
.

It seemed an impossible task during the first week of
the breakup, but oddly, once the news of their split was confirmed, Amanda’s feelings
of dejection promptly vanished.
 
She no longer had time for them, what with the sudden tornado of media attention.

“Where we goin’ dressed all nice today?” the
spiky-haired paparazzo asked as he and the others followed her down the subway
station, through the turnstile and along the platform.
 
“What’s this big meeting at Yorke Tower,
I heard about?” he asked, surprising Amanda.
 
But before she could wonder how he had found out about her day’s
schedule, she rolled her eyes to herself.
 
Of course he had – the paparazzi had been positively stalking her
every move in the past few days.

Rather than fall straight into obscurity once the
breakup was announced, Amanda had found herself catapulted into high demand,
and the paparazzi presence was the least of it.
 
Her inbox and voicemail had been suddenly flooded with offers
from celebrity news sites, all naming their prices in exchange for details of
her shattered romance.
 
The world was
clamoring for a juicier explanation and since the tabloids surely wouldn’t get one
out of Liam, who never once commented on his breakups, they turned to Amanda for
the scoop.
 
While most magazines
maintained Liam’s changed ways, the tabloids were spinning the story of how he
had just cheated on his most innocent victim yet.
 
After all, nasty headlines sold better than nice ones.
 
And the only thing better than a nasty
headline was one validated by the scorned ex.
 
Those kinds of exclusives could easily make millions.

That was probably why Pop Dinner had offered Amanda fifteen
thousand dollars for an interview.
 
“
We can do it by phone if you want,
but we’ll add incentives if you come for a meeting at our offices.
 
We’ll ask just a few of the main things
that people are curious about.
 
You’re welcome to answer ‘no comment’ if you feel uncomfortable.
 
It won’t go longer than ten minutes
,”
they had written in an email.
 
Amanda had stared at it for five minutes straight, unable to
help her awe over the chance at such quick and easy money.
 
It wasn’t as if Liam’s contract prohibited
her from making up some sappy quotes for an interview.
 
“
No,
I am quite sure he didn’t cheat! Yes, we’ve both learned a great deal from this
relationship!”
Something like that.
 
She needed the cash.
 
Fifteen
thousand dollars was about eight times more than any amount of money she’d ever
saved up in her life.
 
The offer
had actually made her weak in the knees when she read it.

But she declined.

By simply lending her name to Pop Dinner, she’d be
legitimizing the exclusive that they’d sell under some completely twisted headline
like “
LIAM’S SEX ADDICTION: AMANDA TELLS
ALL
.”
 
She trusted that they’d be
so shameless – after all, they’d already slandered both her and Liam in
the past, so despite her high price, she’d only feel cheap for giving them an exclusive.
 
And desperate, considering the
only types of “celebrities” who actually sat down with Pop Dinner were the
drunk, estranged fathers of B-listers or former reality stars promoting their completely
auto-tuned debut singles.
 
From
years of moderating HDU, Amanda knew that those kinds were regarded as the
lowest of the low, the types who eventually had to convince themselves that
being hated meant being envied.
 
Amanda
could never survive that kind of life – she was too self-conscious to be
delusional.
 
She would much rather
work another administrative job than live off easy money for six months but spend
the rest of her life with a shot reputation.
 
It wasn’t the logic of someone aiming to be “famous for
being famous,” but Amanda was beginning to realize that “famous for being
famous” wasn’t what she wanted after all.

Apparently, the realization proved all she needed to
land a real job and legitimate claim to fame.
 
It was still hard to believe as she reported for her meeting
in Midtown’s iconic Yorke Tower, home to Yorke Publications.

“
I’ve
adored you since the day I met you, but I couldn’t convince everyone here that
you were a hidden talent and not some…
famewhore
.”
 
Wendy cringed at the word as she sat
across Amanda in her forty-fifth floor office.
 
She leaned back in her Herman Miller desk chair.
 
“I mean, anyone can be in the headlines
these days, it’s just a matter of what kind they want to lend their name
to.
 
People don’t seem to care
anymore that there’s a difference between respect and attention.
 
But
at least there are still some with an ounce of shame left – who’ll turn
down Pop Dinner no matter what the price,” she said with a smile.
 
“Those are the only types of people we
employ here at June Magazine.”

It had yet to sink in for Amanda that she was within
that “type” of employable people.
 
After news leaked that she had turned down the offer from Pop Dinner, she
received a call from Wendy Krentz and proposal on behalf of June Magazine.
 
To her amazement, what they wanted from
her was an
advice
column.

“‘Ordinary Girl in the Extraordinary World,” Wendy exhaled.
 
“‘Think something’s out of your league?
Afraid you can’t rise up to the occasion? Tell it to Amanda Nathan and she
might just prove you wrong.’”

Wendy set a heavy Tiffany pen next to the contract that
sat before Amanda on the desk.
 
Amanda
blinked at it, still stunned.
 
After all the things that had gone wrong since arriving in New York, had
the moment she and Ian been planning for all along really,
finally
just happened? Her blog – her
two
-entry blog – had actually earned her a job, and one for a
company as legendary as Yorke Publications.
 
Amanda’s foot jiggled with the urge to run out of the room
and call Ian to break the good news – perhaps if she texted it to him first,
he’d finally pick up her call.
 
It had
to be too incredible for him to ignore.

“We’re going to start your column as online content
for our website and pending its popularity, we’ll take it to print,” explained
the pointy-nosed woman in her forties who stood behind Wendy’s chair.
 
She had been introduced to Amanda as
Thea Zeigler, the blonde editor-in-chief of June Magazine who had been entirely
quiet thus far and, Amanda assumed, one of the people who had previously
mistaken her for a
famewhore
.
 
Having been the replacement for the
magazine’s last, infamous editor-in-chief, she was no doubt on constant alert
for anything potentially harmful to the magazine’s image.
 
Her red lips had been pursed with
skepticism throughout the meeting, but she was at least trying to twist them
into some sort of smile as she addressed Amanda.
 
“I do see great potential in a column like this, though of
course, I’m judging from a small sample size of your writing.”
 
She shrugged one shoulder and raised
her eyebrows.
 
“At the same time, I
do find it impressive that you’ve managed to capture so many women across the
country with just a few little posts.
 
So I’m more than happy to give this venture a try.”