the cocaine, the pills, they weren't ever it. they were more of a means to an end, a habit that was a little more than inconvenient. what she really needed to be cured of was something that rehab didn't fix. you couldn't learn it in 12 steps, and heaven forbid with detox. she was obsessive. she wanted to be in someone elses skin. the picture in the magazine sufficed, because she had learned to take what she could get. hours on end, sitting in front of it. hours in front of the tv, memorizing the lines, hanging on every dripping word. she was drowning in it. this woman etched into her brain. she wanted to be her so bad. it hurt to think sometimes, because each thought should have been more like 'hers'. each look in the mirror was a stab in the heart. so it was completely natural when cocaine came along. at least that was something they could have in common: they screwed up sometimes. it was like they had a common secret, a common goal. getting high, buzzed, whatever, it did nothing for her. she put the powder up her nose just because that is what you do for a person(they'd never met, of course). she learned that the stars came to rehab in her city, in a spa up in the mountains. closer than ever, she became more desperate than ever. SHE WAS THERE. with every fiber of her being, the girl tried to get in trouble. it was such a lonely thing, with her drugs, alone in a park, hoping to be seen. one day, it happened. her family didn't have the money for the rehab, but connections were made, and she was going to the spa. ecstatic was an understatement. nevermind aching debt, she was going to meet her idol. within a few days she was there. her neck was constantly craned, she searched painstakingly, but she could never find who she was looking for. she heard whispers, she saw men in black suits. she would have killed to see her, but she was never around. her heart ached so bad. "I RUINED MYSELF FOR YOU..THIS IS FOR YOU". she woke up screaming so many nights, and everyone assumed it was withdrawals. she was let out finally, more miserable than ever. not one glance of her hero. broken, bleeding, she turned back to the drugs, this time as the end, not the means.