Down To Earth Diva

Remotes and gossip TV

  I was to stay in the house for the rest of the week. My father had told the worker not to let me out under any conditions. Screw him. There was no way I was going to get out of the house.

 My father had called up my agent to cancel any appointments or shootings that had been scheduled. To say my agent - Diane - was not happy was an understatement. She seemed pissed, but she had no power over his decision and if she refused she would surely lose her job.

I sit on my frilly bed watching some gossip new show about Hollywood's hottest topics. The two hosts were having a slight argument about Justin Bieber. One was questioning Justin's sexuality while the other was a die-hard JB fan.

My eyes were on the screen but my mind was elsewhere. I was about to turn the TV off when a photo of me and my boyfriend Tray Ondaatje appeared. A girl with bleach blond hair and black thick eye brows started to speak but I couldn't hear what she was saying.

I started to search around for the remote. Normally I wouldn't give a shit about what they say but I was bored. I haven't spoken to Tray in weeks. I didn’t really miss him though. I have never really missed any of my past boyfriends, but my relationships are never long.

I get off the bed and start to look underneath it, no remote. I do the same with all the pillows and obtain the same results. I look underneath me and feel around all my blankets . . . nothing.

Damn it I am getting so frustrated! I know they say that it’ll be in the last place you look but I don’t think those idiots were smart at all. F*** yeah, it will be in the last place you look, why would you continue looking after you found it?

My room is huge but I have managed to look through the area closest to the TV. Still no remote. I sit back on my bed and glare at the girl with that bad dye job. My eyes are narrowed and I am shooting daggers at her as she just continues to talk about me and my boyfriend.

I pick up my fuzzy pink phone on my desk and dial a number at the bottom of the screen. I don’t know why I did, I just did.

On the third ring someone picked up, “Hello you are on air with Julie Davids on the new hit TV show, Hit Daggers! What is your name?”

I look at the screen and see that it is the blonde that is talking to me on speaker phone.

I decided to be the actress I really am. “Hi! OMG I can’t believe I got through OMG I am talking on live TV! OMG OMG OMG WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” I screamed into the phone with a screechy voice.

I see the blonde wince as I scream but smiles and asks, “So what is your thoughts on this topic miss?”

Now it was my turn to really smile. “Well, first of all I love Ash to death but her boyfriend needs to go, he ruins her.”

“That’s not what we were talking about but ok?”

“Oh sorry what were you discussing?”

“The rumours that Ashley is pregnant with Trays child,” she said in a tone that made it obvious she believed it was true.

I just kept my cool, “Um, I don’t think it’s true . . . why would you say that?”

“Ashley sleeps with everyone – boyfriend or not – so there is no lack in that area. They have been staying in the same place until the filming of Rehab, which has just finished. She has not been seen for just under a week. Maybe to hide a baby bump? And her agent has cancelled all her plans.” She tried to reason and make it seem believable. I wasn’t even closed to convinced, not that I would be anyways I know the truth.

“Ok well I personally think it is not true. I think she is more careful than you think she is. She is only seventeen; she would realize that it would jeopardize her career. She smarter than you make her out to be. And she plans on braking up with Tray anyways.”

“Really?”

“Uh, yes.”

On the screen one of the producers appear and point to his watch saying something that I still can’t hear because I lost the damn remote. He retreats and she turns back to the screen.

“We have unfortunately run out of time but it was nice talking to you . . .?” she dragged on waiting for my name.

“Ashley,” I said, truthfully.

Her eyes open wide and all she says is, “Oh.”

The show ends and I hang up. She seems like a bitch. But then again doesn’t everyone?

I don’t want to watch any more false gossip kind of shows so I stand up to turn the TV off. There on top of the television was the pink feather remote, of course it would be there. The only place I forgot to look was the most obvious place. Curse my luck. I turn it off and lie down in my bed deciding to take a nap to pass the time.

Before I sleep though I take out my iPhone and text Tray, it’s over.

I won’t be able to upload more of this story until the 30th . . . sorry.