LOVING THE DEVIL [02]

Chapter 04.

CHAPTER 04: doubts

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NYC Dynasty was the one show I despised as much as my mother. It portrayed unrealistic lives of the rich people who worked in this city. Three quarters of people on the show were extremely toxic, including my mother who was removed a while ago. When I was on it, people either turned to love it even more or grow to hate it.

"Just smile," my mother would've snapped, pushing me forward to the set of the show. Any interview I did, mother was with me to make sure I didn't let slip anything I shouldn't be saying. It was controlling and a nightmare.

I felt trapped in a world I shouldn't have been living in. The others were lucky they didn't grow up in the environment I did. It was mentally draining and unhealthy. I felt like no one cared and I couldn't talk to anyone. School was something for me to escape to or my parents' business trips was a way for me to forget about how I grew up.

Michael was sometimes on it for the sake of his business, but it was mostly because of his parents and their wealth that offered him publicity. His parents would've never let him be on the show as a kid, whereas my mother wanted to flaunt everything she's got despite not having an ounce of pride for her only child.

When I speak out against the show in interviews, I don't do it out of spite or jealously. I'm blunt with it and every opinion on it because it's true and people are just stupid to realise that. Just because I'm a celebrity, doesn't mean I can't have my opinions. The media couldn't attack me every time my views were different to them, but they did so anyway.

One interview I remember particularly was with Michael. We were on one of our favourite shows growing up and they have asked us about the TV show and any home secrets we would want to share.

"So Miss Harrington, do you watch your mother on the show?" Thomas, one of the most famous and giving men in the country and host of the show asked. I simply shook my head in response.

"I don't watch shows I don't like. It's nothing personal, but you wouldn't like everything in life. The show—in my opinion—wasn't good for my mentality and the times I was in it was due to my mother. She wanted me to have a name and a label, but it wasn't exactly what I wanted," I remembered saying. It was the truth, no venom in my voice because I had grown to control it. Inside, I was pretty mad whenever I spoke about it, but when you're in the spotlight, your reactions count as small fragments of details that people will use against you.

I remembered the people I had argued with who thought they had it tough and assumed my life was perfect and that I couldn't complain about anything. It wasn't easy teaching them about privilege, but when I got the message through to their thick skulls, I was fine with it. I didn't care if they cried because they shouldn't be crying. They didn't have it tough.

When people asked me 'do you support your mother?', the reaction was the same. I used only what I knew and I didn't give my mother the bad reputation because quite frankly, she was already greatly disliked by people who watched her and she didn't need help in ruining her reputation.

"The day my mother stopped looking me in the eyes when she said 'I love you' was the day I stopped supporting her," I would've said. Why should I support someone's ambitions if they don't love me, much so a parent who should love their child?

That morning, I returned to Michael's office where we decided to keep planning about the charity ball. The clock was ticking and with now only five months left to plan everything and get it ready, we had a lot of work to do.

Liam was there, sat across me as Michael sat at his desk. They spoke about finances and the cost of everything there whilst I checked through the list of food which was going to be served on the night. Now that I think about it, this is the longest time I've been in the same room as a man I've just met. Sure, Liam's sweet, but relationships aren't my thing. However, it is hard to tell if I haven't been in a relationship in years.