PERSON OF LA 4: The Fame Hungry Youth

We all know Miley Cyrus, the Jonas Brothers, Taylor Swift, Selena Gomez, blah, blah, and blah. These tween stars are the current “it” stars and, for every decade, a new and refashioned tween pop outfit is created for mass consumption. However, it is important to note that for every Miley and Joe Jonas, there are at least 1,271 other thirteen to twenty year olds trying to pursue the same goal: tween pop stardom.

Now, the automatic response is to blame an obsessive stage mother or father, which once was an easy answer to who and what made these tween stars. Currently, in the age of YouTube, Facebook, Twitter, and Perez Hilton, celebrity has become a language that many are DYING to speak. Most of the people dying to speak it are under twenty—a lot of them live in Los Angeles, where such aspirations can become reality. These children are driven, obsessed, and fame hungry: they are their own stage parent.

These “children,” if you will, no longer attend proper school, spend their days and nights on film sets and recording studios, are constantly on the go, and eagerly await for the time when they will be chased by paparazzi whilst exiting their new, bright white Maserati. They talk about the SATs and going to prom and boyfriends/girlfriends as excitedly as any other teenager, but are plagued by such a vapidity that their view of these events is devalued, having morphed into another option they can tell their parent on set “No, I’d rather be filming.” It is neither sad nor cool: it represents a lost youth and loss of innocence that cannot be reclaimed.

Okay: it actually is a little sad.

These children aren’t terrible and can’t really help it: they are a product of technology, easy access, and the twenty-first century. In their mind, in this moment, it is all about trying to get that starring role or land that record contract or anything else in the business. Their goals of fame are right around the corner and they subconsciously can tell that their time is ticking: the doorway to child stardom is closing, while the door to twentysomething-wannabe is opening.

For them it isn’t about money: it is all about fame. Their jaded (albeit very honest and helpful) elders in the industry will tell them, “Are you sure this is what you want? One day you’re going to wish you didn’t have this fame.” They will reply that they really do want it and that they are excited for it to come. And, many years later (likely their early twenties), this revelation will set in: what happened to my youth?

In a world where popularity in school has reached a global scale, these fame-obsessed youth aren’t to be helped or hated: they are going to do this whether or not you care. You will run into them at the Beverly Center or on Melrose or Hollywood & Highland and know them when you see them: the glaze over their eyes is their future.

TOXICITY LEVEL: 7

Now, these children aren’t that bad or that terrible: it’s just so sad. It’s like watching a beautiful flower wilt and not being able to get it water. And, when you do get to give it water, the flower’s already dead, asking if the paps have arrived to get shots of its corpse.