Chapter 1 - Plotting and Planning

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Sancia DuPont grew up getting everything she asked for from her parents as a result of driving them insane. since then has practically turned them into her lapdogs that will do whatever she asks them to do.

She figured this out at age five when she spent five hours nagging her dad to buy her a new house for her barbie dolls, not a doll house, but a real house. She is now sixteen and doesn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. On her sixteenth birthday, she went through three cars. Her father saw her inability to drive and hired a driving instructor. As she got better the less cars she went through, three months into her sixteenth year, she had managed to destroy sixteen cars.

'Dad, can I have a new car,' Sancia screeches in her Dad's ear. 

'I just got you a new car five minutes ago,' He replies annoyed.

'It smells,'

'Then get Damien to clean it,'

'Okay,' she glares at him. 'Damien!'

Muffled footsteps run along the carpeted floor and into the majestic white and gold room where Sancia and her father stand.

'Yes?' Damien queries looking at them as a bead of sweat falls onto the carpet.

'What on Earth happened to you?' Her father demands, slightly squinting at him through his bored brown eyes.

'Sancia asked me get her car out,'

'From where,' her fathers eyes wander over to her.

Damien looks at Sancia to tell him.

'The...urh…Abattoir,' she squeaks at him.

'That should be fine then,' her father's rich voice bellows across the room. 'You don't need a new car.'

'Uh no,' Sancia mumbles. 'It's in the part where they deposit the waste.'

Her father gives her a deadly look.

'Get her a BMW,' he concludes.

'i8,' she smiles at Damien.

Damien exits the room and rolls his eyes.

Growing up without challenges left herself with one of the only things that she cared about, herself. Her hair long rich brown hair, slick and silky maintained every morning by her hairdresser. Her face painted every morning by her personal makeup artist after she dresses in her custom-made probably-going-to-only-be-worn-once outfit made by her custom tailor.

So Sancia set out to become the number one YouTuber and not a doubt crossed her narcissistic mind, with the help of her infinite money supply, she could pull off some pretty high quality videos. The longer fame took for her to reach, the more money she spent.

'You spent half a million dollars on a something called a vlog?' Her father questions.

'Yes,' she replies smiling a mango-mouth smile.

'And that is your contribution to society?' He carries on.

'Yes,' she chirps.

'And you think that you can be the top YouTuber?'

'Yes'

'And what are your videos about?' He brings up.

'Myself,'

'Of course,' He mutters to himself. 'Good Job sweetie.'

After her second video Sancia starts trying to branch out on YouTube and tries to collaborate with some of the top YouTubers (Pewdiepie, Jenna Marbles, Smosh). She used all she had to try to get them to work with her, money, a house, an exotic pet, anything. They all didn't believe her or did some investigating about who she was and saw a crisp, practically sparkling video of some bitchy girl talking about herself.

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