I had this great idea to start up a new story, before I even began to finish my other one. I know, that was a smart move. Okay but tell me what you think about this one. I won't continue if you guys don't like it.

Go With the Flow

Hi, I'm Brittany S. Peirce, not Britney Spears, I'm way better. People always get us confused but the fact is I'm just way more famous than she could ever be. That's right famous. I come from a wealthy family, and get anything I want whenever I want it.

My dream was to become a dancer, but things changed, and because I'm so awesome I got roles in big movies instead. Now everybody loves me almost as much as I love myself! But who am I kidding, people have always loved me, and always will… regardless.

Right now I am currently not filming anything so to keep myself busy I'm seeing someone just as equally famous. His name is Sam, he's a model. I can't really remember his last name, but like I said he's only here to keep me occupied for the time being.

"Brittany." Sam said as he was walked into my room. "Are you ready? The party starts in like 30 minutes."

I began to chuckle, because that was really funny. "Aw, Sam you're so cute! But it wouldn't be like me to arrive on time to anything; we have to make them wait." I said in my arrogant voice.

Sam just shook his head and rolled his eyes at me. "Okay, whatever you say. I'll be waiting out in the limo." He said as he turned on his heels to head out the door.

"Bastard." I don't know why I said it. It just seemed right at the moment. He's supposed to put up with my diva attitude not brush it off or find it annoying. I picked up my mascara and began to apply more to my eyelashes.

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"Hey Brittany look over here!" One random paparazzi yelled as I stepped out of the Limo.

"Over here, over here!" Another one yelled.

Being famous has its advantages, but sometimes things can get a little overwhelming, like having random strangers yell at me so they can take my picture. It's kind of like being stalked by crazy picture taking aliens or something.

But hey, I am famous, and the people need to see me because… well it's me! I was just about to strike a pose and give my award winning diva smile before another limo pulled up right beside mine. The paparazzi shifted their attention to their new victim.

"Santana, Santana over here!" Multiple people yelled.

I snapped her attention to the Latina. That bitch. How dare she take my shine!

Okay here's the story with me and Santana Lopez. She and I were never friends. I'll just be frank, I don't like her. She's a bit competitive.

Miss goodie goodie two shoes always wins at everything. Her movie even came out with a bigger gross pay than mine. I think that's how you say it. But any who, I'm very competitive too and I definitely wasn't going to let Santana Lopez beat me at being famous. I can out famous anybody, I mean it's my job.

So I did what any graceful goddess would do… and that's rip her man right out of her satanic clutches. Yep, Sam was her boyfriend before, but because I'm better than her and always will be, he chose me over her!

In her face! So anyways we ended up in the tabloids as the next Jennifer- Brad- Angelina case. Shocking right? How dare they compare me to those low lives?

But, being the "perfect angel" she is she had an interview and stated "I wish them both the best, and I hope they are happy together." Disgusting right? I mean I know she's totally jealous of me right now especially because Sam's right here.

"Please, Ms. Lopez look over here!" The paparazzi were really desperate.

At the sight of Santana, Sam quickly posed for the cameras and headed into the club. I stood there, because, well I just wanted to rub things in her face, it would have been nice if Sam stayed, but he can be a bit of a coward sometimes. It's cool though I can handle this myself. Wait, why is she looking at me like that?

"Hello Brittany." Santana said while giving me a hug. There were several flashes from the cameras.

Yea I hugged her back, because I kind of have to. If people knew me for the bitch I really am then they probably wouldn't like me as much. No, who am I kidding they will always like me. "Hey Santana, so did you come here alone?" I already knew the answer, I just felt like being a bitch. Like I said before I don't like this girl. She just rubs me the wrong way.

But, she just placed her hand on my arm and leaned in closer to me and laughed as if I had said something funny. Did I say something funny? There were several more flashes coming from all the paparazzi. "Brittany, of course I didn't come with anyone, the break up with Sam is still fresh to me." But there was not one drop of sadness in her voice.

Wait, she's saying this as if it was some kind of joke to her. I know she has to be mad at me for stealing her boyfriend. She couldn't have actually meant what she said in that interview, because if someone were to ever take my man then I'd be planning to make that person's life a living hell. Hypothetically speaking of course, because who in their right mind would leave me? I'm as good as it gets.

"Hey, let's head inside, I'm pretty sure the party has started." She gave me a smile and grabbed my hand to lead me into the club. There were several more flashes. Wait did I tell this bitch to touch me? No I didn't. So with that I snatched my hand away from hers, because she doesn't deserve to touch me.

She just gave me a small smile and continued her walk into the club. What the hell is wrong with this chick? Well whatever it is, it's not my problem. With that conclusion I made my way into the club. The whole entire night it felt like someone was watching me. But isn't someone always watching me?

"Brittany! Brittany! Wake your skinny ass up!" Rachel yelled as she burst through my bedroom door. Oh yea, she's my assistant/ best friend. "You are going to be so pissed when you see this!" Rachel was now damn near sitting on top of me squealing about whatever it was she was talking about.

"Ugh! This better be good Berry. Because if you came in my room to wake me up this early in the morning for some bullshit, I swear I'll kill you!" I'm normally a morning person, because it's the calmest part of my day, but I currently have a major hangover and I'm really not in the mood to deal with anything today.

"Britt, check the time, it's about to be 1 in the damn after noon. It was time for you to get up anyway. But seriously look at this." She handed me the magazine in her hand. There I was on the front cover. What the fuck?

It's usual for me to be on the front cover of the tabloids, I mean I'm always there, because hello it's me. But never have the stupid paparazzi told this big of a lie ever. They were obviously out to get me. "Rachel what the fuck is this?" I felt like I was going to faint, my life is fucking over!

"Brittany, before you get mad, I just want to say that if you're seeing Santana it's totally cool with me. But I am your best friend and you should have told me." She almost sounded like she was about to burst out into a fit of laughter. Where my ears deceiving me? Did she really just say what I think she said?

I look back down at the front cover of the magazine. The title said "Hollywood's New Lesbian Couple" with a picture taken last night of me and Santana holding hands. I knew the bitch was being weird. How could I have been so stupid? This was why she was acting overly friendly in front of the paparazzi.

"Rachel I don't fucking like that skank of a whore! She fucking disgusts me!" I know I shouldn't be yelling at Rachel, but come on, I had to yell at someone. She looked at me completely shocked. I've never talked to her like that. Other people, yes, but never my best friend… Whatever she'll get over it, I have bigger fish to fry right now.

"Rachel, get Santana's people on the phone right now, because my people would like to have a word with her!"

I gathered that Brittany can be a bit much, but she'll get better with time… well if I continue this.