You pretty much only had a day at your mom's house, just catching up over a cup of tea, and by morning, you had to be driven back to your home in LA because your personal trainer was scheduled for you already. Luckily, your mother had a good two weeks back in California before she'd be flying off for fashion week in Paris, so you asked her to tag along.
"I cannot believe my baby is nominated for an Oscar!" She had cheered when you first mentioned it around her – your agent might've misled you into thinking she already knew, and then when you told her about the date predicament, she went with a quiet, "Can you go with a woman this time? Are you seeing anyone?"
Truth was, you had been seeing someone – in the same business, but you liked to keep your real relationships private, and they kept hinting at you being their 'mystery woman' on Instagram. It's not like you don't like attention, you wouldn't be in this business if you didn't, it just felt like another PR stunt. Especially when Johnny heard about it. He didn't like that it wasn't a hetero one like every other stunt, but he had been wanting to test the waters of the public's opinion about your sexuality. You knew, in reality, he just wanted to prove a point to you, though.
That no matter how big and famous you get, the homophobes, whether outspoken or internalize, will take down your career with a flash of a camera and a poorly worded article.
"Not anymore."
Crystal, your makeup artist, and Jaz, your stylist, came bounding into your home not an hour after that conversation, but no worries, because while you were changing in preparation for a workout, your gracious mother let them in and proceeded to fill them in on everything. Your photographer even showed up – all of which had you very suspicious.
"Hey," You greeted them slowly as they all stood around the kitchen island, sipping from various mugs, and you didn't try to hide your suspicions, "Just stopping in?"
"Your mother invited us." Rory smirked behind his cup and your mom swatted his arm.
"What? Why?"
"We're here to help!" Crystal chirped and you narrowed your eyes.
"With. What."
Jaz rolled her eyes, "Getting you a date, obviously."
You felt offended, "I am perfectly capable of-"
"Are you though?" Rory's voice was high, and the girls laughed while you fumed, about to cross your arms in defiance, but then you were being handed a cup of tea by your mother.
"Honey, we're just trying to help – it pains me to see you so unhappy whenever those photos come out with those boys that Johnny sets you up with."
"Mom, I'm doing alright, I promise." You assured.
"Of course, you are," Jaz spoke up, taking a massive stack of magazines out from her tote bag and spreading them on the counter for everyone to see, but you didn't need to look hard to notice you were on every cover, "You're a million dollar pop star with a heart of gold who cherishes her fans and charities, but Johnny is branding you as a scandalous, drug abuser who couldn't give a shit about her fans. You're apparently using cocaine, drinking until you black out nearly every night, and sleeping with half of LA. Not to mention the models and fans you're apparently fucking in other countries while you're on tour too."
"You need new management." Crystal mumbled and you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose because the problem with that was...contracts. Long story.
"Johnny is such a dick." Rory grumbled and your mother hummed in agreement.
"Those articles don't mean anything," You told them, "I know who I am, and my real fans and friends do too – they know I'm not like how I'm portrayed."
