In my perfect world, this is what happens.
1. The paparazzi see the error of their ways—or are terrified enough of what’s in Katie’s folders—that they stop. Stop following me around, living outside my building, going through my garbage, shouting my name.
2. Those paparazzi who aren’t persuaded to stop—and who I have no dirt on—follow the lead of group one and come to the realization that there are other fish to fry. That there are melting icebergs flooding the oceans to photograph or baby seals to save or whatever. #anythingbutme.
3. Those who don’t fall into groups one and two are so consumed by the Oh-my-God-Olivia-Amber’s-best-friend-is-pregnant-with-Connor’s-baby news that they give me the breathing room I’m looking for.
4. My parents decide to take a vacation at an ashram in India where there’s no TV, no Internet, no cellphone signals, and where they learn to be serene and generous and self-aware. Oh, and also: headstands. Because headstands are awesome and Zen.
5. In all the free time I’ve gained not avoiding the paparazzi, I get a life and meet with directors and read scripts and convince the stupid perfume company that my life really is fabulous and they shouldn’t cancel my contract. I find the perfect project and get cast in it, and I’m proud of the job I do in it, no matter what anyone else thinks.
6. Oh, and I totally learn how to do a headstand too. And in my new Zen-blood-rushing-to-my-head state I learn to accept Connor for what he was, remember the good, jettison the bad. My heart is open enough to find someone else to love, the right person at the right time who loves me the way I deserve to be loved.
If I could control the world, that’s what would happen. But since I do not, this is what actually happens.
1. While the paparazzi I brought to my intervention seem to have gone on “vacation,” they were immediately replaced with four who looked just like them. They’ve bred like cockroaches, only they don’t skitter away in the light of day.
2. The Vacationing Paparazzi materialize in Europe, where they start to terrorize royals and leather-skinned socialites.
3. They, and the general public, are totally consumed by oh-my-God-she’s-carrying-Connor’s-baby-etc. Olivia—her life is holy hell right now—but that doesn’t mean they’re leaving me alone. Hell, no. The Am-ber. Am-ber. Am-ber chorus is so loud that the police actually intervene for once and I have a day, a day of silence. I get a fucking day.
4. My parents . . . well, they haven’t gone to India, but they’re staying quiet for now. Except for the press conference they gave to talk about how “disappointed” they were in Olivia, who they’d treated as a second daughter, though they were there for her if she needed anything for the baby. Which they repeated on Cathy Keeler and Entertainment Tonight and . . . you get the picture. At least they aren’t talking about me. But they totally should’ve listened to me about the headstand thing.
5. Danny won’t take my phone calls, or return my texts, or answer my emails. I just want to tell him I’m sorry for the way I treated him. He is, however, dating one of Connor’s ex-girlfriends, so I’m guessing he’s not over it.
6. The perfume company cancels my contract. As Bernard tells me, it’s got a warehouse full of my perfume and he hopes “I like the fucking smell,” because I’ll be wearing it for the rest of my fabulous life. I know this is probably ironic, or good metaphor material, but mostly it just stinks.
7. The only offer I receive is to star in some Fifty Shades of Grey knock-off. I actually spend five minutes considering it. A low moment.
8. Cathy Keeler invites me on the show to tell “my side of the story.” Since I’m pretty sure “my side of the story” will be met with snarkiness and potentially a “surprise” appearance by my parents, I decline.
9. I get sideswiped by the Connor-is-dead-thing on a regular basis. I’ll be okay for a bit, going through my closet, getting rid of clutter, and then wham!—some memory hits me upside the head and almost knocks me out cold.
10. I do not find my Zen place.
11. I cannot do a headstand.
But, but, while I don’t control the world, I do still live in fantasyland, so there’s no telling what can happen next.