Page 16 of The F List

I wasn’t a good person, but Wesley couldn’t tell.

“Her first show is still online—you can watch it in the archives of her site. It was back when she always filmed in front of that blue backdrop, where all you focused on was her. And she was pretty, you know—but nothing special. I remember almost turning her off once. But that was the thing about Emma, you couldn’t turn her off—because you never knew what she was going to say. She was ruthless about people, but it was all true. It was all that horrible stuff that you think about people, but you don’t voice, because oh-my-god you’d get murdered. But she didn’t care. And that first video was about Cash Mitchell, OF COURSE. Which, I guess made sense, because back then, the only followers she really had were from that date with him. So anyway, that’s what that video is. Fourteen minutes where she dissects him and… it’s rough. Like, really cruel. But it’s also hilarious. See, the thing is, she’s funny. Like, seriously funny. Even if you hate her when you’re laughing.”

Dan Robbins, The Hollywood Reporter




My team hated that video and its title. It was called Why You Don’t Want to Date Cash Mitchell. We all knew what it was—a pathetic attempt at attention, just like our first date had been—but the public didn’t know that. I lost almost two million followers when that video went viral. It was the white trash comment that really got everyone enflamed.

And okay, so I shouldn’t have said it. But she had accused me of ignoring Wesley, of being ashamed of him. Screw that. I love my brother more than anything on this planet. If she’d been a man, I would have punched her. Instead, I hit out with the only thing I had. I could tell that she didn’t come from money. So I said it. And I’d like to say I regret it, but when I think about what she said about Wesley—I don’t.

My manager wanted me to reach out to Emma, to apologize to her. That was never going to happen, and I told him that. I’m not sure how the MTV Movie Awards thing happened, but I’m pretty sure it was a joint event between my camp and hers. They all knew what was about to happen, but I didn’t. Maybe she did. All I knew is that I walked into that theater clueless. And there she was, standing alone on the red carpet, in a dress that could take a man’s breath away.

There were a series of gossip posts over the years that described the type of girl I liked. Like… a Breakdown of Cash Mitchell’s Dream Girl or… 5 Hollywood Starlets Cash is Dying to Date. And they were always the same. Polished and perfect porcelain dolls, the kind you tripped over daily in Beverly Hills. But the journalists had it all wrong. Just because I’d dated women like that didn’t mean that they were my ideal—they were just the most common occurrence in my world. Emma was different. I meant what I said to her at my party—she was beautiful. Raw. Wild. Untamed. You don’t see a woman like that and forget her. And that night of the movie awards, she was stunning.




We started campaigning for the award show season a year in advance. Which was tough because my numbers were weak though my name recognition was growing. The first few shows we faked. I posed in outfits before a green screen while Vidal’s photographer snapped me from different angles, then photoshopped me into the red carpet shots. It’s funny that my most popular Getty image shot—one where I’m winking into the camera at the Emmys—happened at an after-hours studio three streets off Sunset. The after-parties were next to impossible to fake, but a ticket could be easily bought, assuming you knew who to call.

It was at the HBO Emmy afterparty that I first brushed elbows with Margot Robbie. We literally touched, me turning sideways to squeeze past her as she chatted with a bearded guy who looked familiar but I couldn’t place. She said “excuse me,” and I fought the urge to dance in place like a crazy woman and tell her how much I loved her. Instead, I gave a polite smile and moved on, as if it was normal to be next to a movie star, as if that happened to me every day. There were so many stars there, but also… so many people like me. Loners gripping a glass of punch, their eyes nervously darting about, trying to look at everyone without being noticed. Even the stars were a bit awkward. They stood in line for a drink and fidgeted with earrings, adjusting the neckline of their gown as they searched the area desperately for someone they might know. When they spotted one, there were overdone hellos, air kisses, the same conversations about Los Angeles heat, and compliments on the show, and general ass-kissery until the line moved up, and they were able to secure a drink.