Note: All song lyrics are original, by the author. Any similarity to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidence, except in the videos, to which I claim no right whatsoever. They are embedded from YouTube as recommended by Wattpad.
-1-
Friday, 1 August 2025, 2.30 pm, Los Angeles
Dad says, if I keep putting up ICT videos without a contract, I'll become an "ICT starlet". I've long since forgot what "ICT" means. Everybody says "ICT". They used to say "Internet". It's something about the U.N. taking away the Internet from the Americans this year.
But I know what an ICT starlet means. That means like stillborn, with no future. It means you can put up videos your whole life and never be a star. Even if millions of people watch them and pay you money for them, you're not the full pupusa: you're like a fried tortilla with no meat, no cheese, empty, looks good but it stops there.
It's the contract that gets the proper, movie-like videos, with famous actors, that people want to see. The contract gets you the concert tours. The music publisher gets you the movie deals: making one, writing the soundtrack or just using one of your songs. The manager gets you the advertising contracts where they use your songs. The contract lets the publisher make products where they use your face and name; etc. etc. or sell the rights to other shops to do that. Only then can you stick a star on your forehead. As if I wanted to ....
But the ICT starlets never get any of that. They put up videos, millions of people love them, some get quite rich now with ICT. But, after they put the videos up, they go home and cry, dreaming and hoping and wishing for the star they'll never be.
Dad's got me scared about becoming an ICT starlet. I think if I don't get a contract, I may as well swim out into the Caribbean, never stop and never come back!
So here we are, riding the bullet train from Guatemala City into LA. It's like:
Take the Moon Kid to LA
And le' me play amongst the stars
Let me have me holiday homes
On Jupiter and Mars
In other words, make me rich!
In other words, somebody sign me!
Well, if you want to know where I got the idea for this little ramble, here is a different child, with a much lower voice, singing the song that started me thinking about this little outburst.
We've been through the Great Wall of America. Dad and I've got British passports, so we had no trouble. But my brothers and sisters from Centroamerica had to go off the train with the officers at Tijuana. That must be like getting sent to the Directora's office at school in Guatemala City, I guess. Nothing good's going to come of that, I fear.
I've been growing up in Guatemala for three years, long enough that I feel like I'm one of the Centroamericanos, not really British anymore. Although it's still in my speech, when I speak English. I can't seem to lose it. I started out in Manchester from the time I was a baby and that, with my Scottish mother and Yorkshire nanny, made me speak the way I do.
That's why the English kids on the ICT call me "the Altrincham Cat". It comes from Alice in Wonderland: the "Cheshire Cat". I grew up in Altrincham from age 6 months to age 6 years, and Altrincham used to be part of Cheshire. Like the Cheshire Cat, they think I smile all the time. But I don't really . . . . That's just what I let them see on the ICT.
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Green Princess
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