Italicized words within a quotation indicate a thought

You pushed through the crowd not caring if you hurt someone as you did. You were used to it by now—the paparazzis yelling questions about the past, the cameras that were contantly pointed at your face, and the criticism that came along with it. You didn't care. All you cared about was your fans. The ones who have stood by your side as the media scrutinized you. 

"Move out of the way!" Your manager yelled as you two got closer to the car waiting outside of the airport. You continued to push everyone out of the way earning a few swears and name calling. Once there was enough space to open the car door, you jumped inside and made your self comfortable. "You really need to start thinking about creating a better image." Your manager groaned as he situated himself next to you.

"It doesn't matter." You replied. "Anything I do is just going to be viewed negatively."

"That not the point, Y/N." He sighed. "This isn't you."

You stared at him blankly and shrugged. You plugged in your earphones and looked at the buildings you were passing through. You were invited by multiple fashion designers for the upcoming fashion week in New York. Despite of your refusal to go, your manager insisted on going to build a better relationship with names outside of the music industry. "If you want to be bad be more like Rihanna" he reasoned out.

"So you're just going to ignore me?" He asked as he pulled out one of your earphones. You glared at him and tried to retrieve it back but you eventually gave up when he wouldn't budge. "Maybe you don't want to change for yourself but what about your fans? What about her?"

"What about her?" You scoffed. "She probably doesn't even know me."

"Come on Y/N! How can she not? You're well known all over the world. Especially in our own country."

"My home country doesn't even like me." You laughed bitterly. "Imagine what she thinks of me."

"I don't know." He sighed. There was a mometary silence before he hit you excitedly. "Wait! Doesn't she follow you on instagram?!" He asked.

"No." You frowned. "I mean there were screenshots but they were probably photoshopped."

"I still think she followed you but then realized that it would just attract unwanted attention towards her."

"Exactly." 

"Wait that's not what I meant." He panicked. 

"No, I understand. It's the truth. Being connected to me in any way is bad for one's reputation." You smiled sadly. "Just forget it Jay. Wake me up when we get to the hotel will you?" You quickly snatched your earphone back and closed your eyes. Honestly, you were hurt by what Jay had said even though it was the truth. It was the reason why you kept such a small group of friends. You realized that some used you to gain popularity and they would turn against you when they've had it; stating that you weren't good for them. You didn't need them anyways. At least that's what you thought to make you feel better.

-

You plopped down on the hotel bed and groaned. You were tired—physically and mentally. "I hate long flights." You grumbled. You sat up and the tv to pass time.

"Korean-American artist Y/N L/N spotted leaving JFK Airport. It's not a surprise that she has already garnered negative attention upon her arrival." The newscaster stated.

"Then stop following me around." You groaned. You surfed through the channels and turned the television off when nothing caught your attention. It was now 1AM and despite of the jetlag, you could not sleep. You hopped off the bed and changed into a black hoodie and a jean jacket. After putting on your black timberlands and a black face mask, you walked out of your hotel room and headed out of the hotel. 

Despite of the time, the city was still wide awake. You walked casually along the sidewalks admiring the what the your surrounding offered you. You chuckled at how drunk group of young friends sang their hearts out only to be shushed by the elderly. You looked longingly at couple walking hand in hand. No one was following you. No one was taking pictures. You felt normal and free.

You continued to walk without a destination. It was moments like this that you wished you never became an artist or to have accumulated the popularity you have now. You wanted to be a part of those drunk friends or to walk hand in hand with someone you loved without worrying about people following you. However, that wasn't reality. You're Y/N L/N, international recording artist. America's "bad girl" and South Korea's "disgrace".

You never intended on becoming that way but being alone at night made you feel empty. You felt like a product being tossed around for money. It felt as if you didn't have purpose in life. That's when the clubbing began; the constant