Style Squad

Marcella's Point of View

"Alright, Hannah," I say to the green-eyed rich brat in front of me. "I did everything you asked. Where's my pay?"

We were standing in my office/penthouse on the top floor of FFM headquarters. This is where I spend most of my time. Being the FFM "host", I really need to be here all the time.

Hannah Crimson was traipsing around my home. "My bedroom is bigger than your entire penthouse, Marcella!" She sneered. "Now, were you totally nasty to Loser Lopez and the Loserettes?"

A pang went through my heart. I absolutely hate it when fans don't feel appreciated. And I love Style Squad. Those girls are so unique and kind. I could tell they were upset when I sassed them in the interview and was short with them before the photo shoot.

"Yes, Hannah. May I have my pay?" I asked, tapping my foot against the marble floor.

"Dunno, have you really earned it?" Hannah took a seat at my dining room table and stared at me with those green eyes.

I scoff. "Yes, Hannah! Please, I need this money!"

Hannah smirked and reached into her purse. She was satisfied with me saying "I need this money". She pulled out a crimson checkbook with her initials embroidered on it in gold, along with a matching gold ink pen.

"Tell me again why you've been asking me for a small loan of a million dollars?" Hannah said as she started writing in the checkbook. "I mean, it's obvious that you were willing to do anything for me to get it."

Her voice makes me sick to my stomach. I didn't ask for the money. She offered it to me if I did what she said. I'm so guilty.

"Sorry, Hannah. I need this right now." I sit across from her at the table.

"Ugh, of course you do, you poor peasant!" Hannah cackled.

I took a deep, shaky breath to keep from crying.

Truth is, I've lost my fortune.

People hacked into my bank account and stole everything from me about a year ago. I was only about fifteen then. My parents and older sister lived in New York. They didn't want me to spend my money on a house for them. They're living in an apartment right now. My sister lives in the dorms at her college, with her annoying roommate. She's trying to become a surgeon so she can have more money.

"Mama, are you sure you don't want me to help you guys out?" I asked during a phone call.
      
"Marcella, mi amor. You don't need to give us anything. This money? You've earned it on your own. Keep it up! Your Papá, Liana, and I are so proud of you."

Last year, when I was robbed, my manager bribed the press to not release any information about the money. Instead, she helped them get dirt on the famous singer, Clarissa Cloud. Never heard of her? That's because her career ended after the press leaked videos of her stumbling, drunk, out of a club in Vegas. She was cursing and shouting song lyrics.
     
Among that dreadful mix, she accidentally admitted to disgusted passersby that she did none of her own singing. She was lip-syncing to Roxanne's singing. Now Roxanne is the star.
     
Of course I felt awful. My manager was the one who ruined Clarissa's career. And she found out. She blocked me on all social media, and probably deleted my contact and blocked my number. We haven't spoken since.
     
I think the only people who know about my money problem are my family and all of FFM. If anyone in FFM says anything about my account being robbed, they'll be fired on the spot. I don't think anyone else found out about my current situation yet.
      
Shockingly, the police never caught the thieves. They never found any trace of where the money would have gone. I probably cried a thousand tears after they told me that. My career is ruined, I thought. I'll never be where I am now again.
     
FFM gave me a penthouse on the top floor of their building when I lost my mansion. I've been living here ever since, taking whatever gig was offered to me, no matter what it payed. I need the money.
     
"Well, I'll be going. Call me if you ever want me to be on the cover of FFM!" Hannah giggled and walked away.
      
As soon as the door closed, I burst into tears. I made four of my biggest fans feel worthless for a million dollars. If I didn't need the money so badly, I wouldn't have done it. But Hannah's dad is a billionaire. Her family also knows about my situation. When Hannah called me with the proposal, I couldn't refuse. Without FFM, I'm nothing. And I've been the host for two years. They're going to need a new one soon, to keep the faces fresh. I'll fade into darkness when that happens.

Elisa, Sandra, Vera, Lexi... if you're reading this, please know how terribly sorry I am. I really didn't mean to make you feel like dirt. I know I'm a terrible person for choosing money over friendship. I would love to be your friends, if you ever forgive me. I'm truly sorry for the sass and brattiness. My situation was dire.

A million times sorry,

Marcella Rodriguez,
aka Marcella Diamond