The F List - Alessandra Torre Page 0,16
talked about his mother. His lack of job. His attempt to connect with commoners when we all know he was born with everything. I even told them what he said to me on our date. My voice—on that part of the video—trembles a little bit. No one caught it then, but later, once I had fangirls and the documentary and a giant microscope perched above my head… that line was dissected. Ran through voice analyzation programs. My slight hitch of breath was turned into a Jonah Whale of emotional blubber.
“Easy,” he had said, leaning close into me so that no one else would hear. “Your white trash is showing.”
That… that stupid line is why I was able to do it. His tone was what fueled every horrible thing I said about him. Just thinking about that line, and even now—my skin gets hot. I feel like a failure. I’m taken right back to every moment in my childhood where I was picked on. Laughed at. Pushed down a ramp and onto my knees in the dirt. Ridiculed for having the same pair of tennis shoes two years in a row, or having to eat a peanut butter sandwich every day at lunch because my parents hadn’t paid my lunch account. I was, and still am, white trash. And Cash Mitchell taught me that hearing the truth hurts the worst.
The only thing I didn’t mention in that video was Wesley. And that night, after it was posted, and after the views and followers started to tick into ridiculous and unimaginable numbers, I drove out to the Ranch and shared a bucket of strawberry ice cream with him. Not because I was a good person, but because I was bad. I knew making that video was wrong, but I willingly stepped over that line, desperate for another splash of attention.
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
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#CashMitchellOfficial
CASH
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…