Chapter 1

"No. Uh-uh," I shook my head, gushing happiness and trying not to wince at the continuous strobe of a hundred flashbulbs. "I didn't expect this at all. It's just amazing and I'm having such a good time tonight."

"Thanks Cindy," Tyra said and she was doing post-awards interviews for the Fashion Channel.

"My pleasure," I replied, sharing the obligatory kiss on the cheek for the cameras.

I held up one of my three awards for the cameras, Model of the Year which was the biggest in terms of prestige, and stepped to the side. More photos in front of the MTV Fashion Awards logo while Tyra grabbed Amanda Richardson for her five minutes. I breathed a sigh of relief when Sofia arrived to hold my hand.

"Do I have to lug this thing around all night?" I asked my assistant and the small blonde laughed. That trophy hadn't seemed to weigh anything when they'd given it to me, but now...

"Pretty much," Sofia said. "Come on, Madonna's been waiting to meet you. I think she wants to give you a ride to Johnny Depp's party."

"Fuckin' Madonna," I sighed.

"What?" Sofia glanced at me and I shook my head.

It was a long, slow walk because I had to stop every ten feet to be kissed and congratulated, to pose for a camera and pretend like I was best friends with people I barely knew. That was the job though, as I'd long since learned, and I was working hard.

"Cindy!" Barry Bedis fell into step beside me, or tried to as we made our way through the crowded backstage. He was a reporter for Rolling Stone and a total asshole.

"I'm not talking to you anymore, Barry," I said, smiling and waving at someone else. "You made me very angry."

"What? Baby! Why?" he pouted, trying to look like he was the victim.

"The piece on Mexico? The abortion?" I rolled my eyes. "Mr. Goethe wanted to sue you."

"No!" He looked shocked.

"Sofia wanted to castrate you," I sighed and then smiled brightly. "Hi! You look gorgeous!"

"I still want his balls." Sofia frowned at him over her shoulder while I played kissy face with Milla Jovovich. I'd partied with her before and Milla was a lot more fun in person. I kind of thought her movies sucked.

"But you did get an abortion!" Barry laughed as we journeyed on.

"I had a benign ovarian cyst," I told him. "Three Swiss doctors and the Mayo Clinic said so."

"You spent a week in Mexico City," he said. "Nobody goes down there looking for the cure for cancer, Cindy."

"Quoting Letterman nowadays, Barry?" I frowned, veering to the left as I saw Paris Hilton stumbling towards me. I suddenly wished I'd kept my bodyguards closer. I hate drunken wanna-be poseurs and Paris was even worse than her sister. "Who invited her?" I wondered and Sofia just rolled her eyes.

"You got a retraction!" Barry waved his hand at me. "Besides, it didn't hurt you tonight, did it? Cover of the Year, Best New Talent, and Model of the Year? You should get down on your knees and thank me, Cindy."

"I thought you liked it on your knees," I told him and then one of Madonna's security guys put a huge black hand in the middle of Barry's scrawny chest.

"I'm with Cindy!" he protested, but that wasn't going to work and I was glad to be rid of the man. He'd been a good lay, but boring as hell afterwards.

"Find me some water, would you?" I asked Sofia as Madonna started getting up to welcome me. "I'm dying."

"Anything else?" she wondered.

"A handgun for my headache," I whispered and then I forced myself to smile and hold up my award as a dozen flashbulbs went off all at once.