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You've seen those mobile apps everyone's playing these days, right? The ones where you work your way up the celebrity 'A List' and you start off on a red carpet telling everyone "it wasn't always this way...", and then you end up in some dank as hell coffee shop running into Kim Kardashian or Beyoncé, and they bless you with fame and knowledge and a one-way ticket to stardom?

And that's providing you dedicate a questionable amount of your actual life to your virtual life, because let's face it— mobile games like that are the closest some of us get to being rich and famous.

Let's talk about fame, for just a second. Because fame isn't the same thing it used to be. These days, you could do something as simple as get caught out in the wrong place at the wrong time, and all the sudden you're a viral video on YouTube and the subject of ten separate Buzzfeed articles— plus a quiz!

My point is, when did we stop worshipping successful, revolutionary people like Amelia Earhart, and start living for Kimoji updates? And why is it so hard to climb the success ladder, yet so easy to fall ten feet deep into an internet scandal?

I hadn't been looking for fame when it happened to me. I'd just been looking for my escape— my purpose in life. And then it came out of nowhere and turned my entire life upside down. One minute I was working in Starbucks, and the next I was the subject of a freaking viral Internet video. And just like that, I was famous.

Like meme level famous.

I was the next Cash Me Ousside girl. Except they'd called me Wren from Starbucks, which was significantly less creative. And let me tell you, my parents were less than impressed.

Picture this— small town girl from a perfect world drops everything to move to LA. A questionable move, considering I had no interest in Hollywood, or fame, and generally no reason to be moving across the country.

I threw everything away— my reputation, my degree, my boyfriend... gone in an instant to make way for 'my freedom'.

And how's the free life, you ask? Well, to sum it up, I went from studious architecture student to struggling millennial who eats too much avocado on toast. But it was worth it, because I traded endless hours of misery and suffocating gloom, and took a step towards the life I aspired to live. A life of happiness and adventure.

Still, sometimes I think back to the moment I decided to leave, and wonder if my parents had been right all along in the way they'd advised me not to go.

"Wren, this is ridiculous," my mom had said, her slender, jewellery covered arms folded across her blazer. We were standing in the living room of my parents' house, where I'd lived up until graduating high school. After that, I had moved in with my boyfriend to be closer to work and the college.


Had, that is.

"You have a perfectly good life here! And so many opportunities!"

She had exchanged a look with my dad, who hadn't said a word yet. His moustache had trembled with silent fury, which had made my stomach tighten uneasily. That had been a giveaway that shit was about to hit the fan.

I'd bitten my lip and shrunk back a little, but held my ground.

Mom had eventually collapsed on the designer sofa and sighed, her forehead perched delicately upon her fingers. "Is this about Daniel?"

A stab of pain had shot through me at the mention of his name, but I'd forced myself to shake my head.

"I just don't want to be here," I'd managed to say. "I don't want to live in this small town... I want to experience the sun and the beach. I want to see the city!"

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