Backstage
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Damian
I never choose to become a rock star. I was forced into music, and this life fell into my lap. I’m lucky. I know that. This is why I don’t take money and fame that come with it for granted. If the perks to be famous are women throwing at me, who am I to say no? Right, I have to live with paparazzi following me everywhere, with my life all over the gossip news. But It’s a small price to pay to avoid going back starving like when I was no one. This is why I got furious when the label imposed a contest to make amends for me being on the cover of gossip magazine with three fans sticking their tongue in my mouth. It wasn’t even my fault! And now we are stuck with a bunch of kids for the entire tour–the band opening our shows. And then there is the bass player of that band. How can it be a good idea to put a sassy, sexy musician on the road with me for months and demand not to mess everything up hitting on her? |
Lilly
I always wanted to become a famous musician. Playing my bass guitar for a living is my dream. There is only one small detail I can’t get over with: the pressure coming from the fame. Paparazzi following my every move, gossip magazines scrutinizing every outfit, or weight’s gain or loss. Wearing makeup to go out for a coffee or at the grocery store? Not my style. I’ve been judged for my appearance when I was a teenager. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. I am not doing it again.
I almost threw up when I discovered we won the contest that gave us the chance to open the concerts for the most famous rock band in the world.
How can I avoid the spotlight when I have to share the stage with a man that attracts paparazzi like a moth to the flame? He is the king of gossip magazines. He loves to draw attention to himself–and he is a bit too arrogant about that if you ask me.
I always wanted to become a famous musician. Playing my bass guitar for a living is my dream. There is only one small detail I can’t get over with: the pressure coming from the fame. Paparazzi following my every move, gossip magazines scrutinizing every outfit, or weight’s gain or loss. Wearing makeup to go out for a coffee or at the grocery store? Not my style. I’ve been judged for my appearance when I was a teenager. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. I am not doing it again.
I almost threw up when I discovered we won the contest that gave us the chance to open the concerts for the most famous rock band in the world.
How can I avoid the spotlight when I have to share the stage with a man that attracts paparazzi like a moth to the flame? He is the king of gossip magazines. He loves to draw attention to himself–and he is a bit too arrogant about that if you ask me.
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