Well, it's not a rumor anyway. As I said, I did sleep with him.
When the glass door of the arrival gate opens, the screams of my fans greet me.Well, then. It's time.
I flash a beautiful smile at my fans gathering in front of me, waving at them like a Disney princess riding in her carriage. On purpose, I tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear, exposing a piece of my favorite Swarovski earring. I hope that the photographers will take good pictures of it, which is a part of my partnership deal with the brand.
Let's hope that the recent rumor about me won't affect the sales of the jewelry.
"Cassie! Over here!" the photographers call me, but I shift my attention to my fans, who are shouting my name too.
"Cassie, oh my God, you're even prettier than in photos!" one of them shouts.
"She's so beautiful," another one says to her friend.
"Geez. I would kill to have those damn legs," I can hear someone mutter.
"Cassie! Would you take a picture with me?" someone begs desperately.
I wonder why they always exaggerate my beauty as if I'm one of those Victoria’s Secret angels. Maybe they would faint if they ever met one.
Every time I look in the mirror, I see nothing new. I'm just like those other girls who have long and wavy chestnut brown hair,tanned skin, chocolate eyes and small plump lips.
But they always say that my skin is flawless, my hair is effortlessly perfect, my eyes are enchanting and my lips are always kissable.
"Are you going to take pictures with them?" Mike asks in a low voice.
"No," I whisper to him. "Not now with these eyebags."
I'm sure that it won't be fair for my fans to have a picture with me still wearing these shades. It won't look genuine either.
Why would I cover my face when they want to show their friends and family that they just met Cassie Castillo?
Nevertheless, I'm grateful to receive such a warm welcome every time I'm back in LA. However, I notice that the crowd of my fans today isn't as big as it used to be last year.
Anybody can tell that the number of reporters and photographers gathering here is more than that of my fans.
Great. I finally realize now that all the controversies I've created have done more damage than gain.
As soon as I resume walking with Mike, all the reporters storm in my direction and questions upon questions are thrown at me.
"Cassie, is it true that you hooked up with Alejandro Sanchez?"
Right. I did hook up with that football player.
"What about Brian? Have you heard about his divorce?"
I'm trying my best to hold back my scoff. Why that douchebag actor had a problem with his wife is none of my business. Stop asking me about him. He practically assaulted me in public. I'm not a homewrecker.
"Did you hear Jude's latest single? The song is about you."
Now that almost makes me stop on my track.Almost.
Jude. Hearing that name again still pains my heart. He is, after all, my ex-boyfriend. Things have been going downhill after I broke up with him, and that includes receiving some death threats from his fans.
All of those questions do bother me despite how bad I want toignore them. All the controversies make me think that I'm indeed not the smartest celebrity in the world.
And that also makes me think about the emergency meeting waiting for me at homewith dread.
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