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Did I ever tell you about my husband Jackson Maine? He was a talented rock musician millionaire that used to hang out in seedy back alley drag bars. Oh how he loved me, I rewarded this love on the same night we met by punching once of his biggest fans, a complete stranger who loved Jackson more than I ever could, right in the face. Lol. I was a struggling nobody singer, Jackson got me my first ever gig, a stadium of 100,000 fans. We played a song I hummed him a few bars of, I was lazy & unmotivated & that’s all the music I had ever wrote in my life up to that time because I was so feckless, but he had taken those few bars & in 2 days wrote a song from them, & even credited me for it as we played for the huge crowd. He was so talented that we didn’t even need to rehearse. Rather than learn how to do such a musical feat I would just browbeat him about any old thing, rewarding him with glimpses of affection when he would give me advice or contacts that would further my career. He would often tell me that people only listen for a short time so dig deep into my fucking soul & sing the truth to my audience, I repaid this advice by singing the most generic soulless pop music imaginable, the type of thing even a German 11 year old girl would find dull. This made me famous & when I won my Grammy Jackson got onstage drunk, high & pissed himself, showing the world clearly how I had neglected my ever more growing desperate & insane husband for a childless career that was driven by my face & name on billboards. In my rage I sent Jackson off to exile in rehab, when he got out my manager made no mention of Jackson handing me my career on a silver platter but Jackson in his vulnerable state that he’s a big meanie who ruined everything. Jackson killed himself shortly after leaving me with not only a household name but a mansion, millions of dollars & income from royalties. I also got to play the victim forever from his unbelievably selfish act. He was a good stepping stone.
