docx, 14.51 KB
docx, 14.51 KB

Here is the beginning. I hope you like it.

The Swindle

Kanye was exhausted. Another night shepherding the most photographed woman in the world around the Paris nightlife. Nothing was private. No trips to the patisserie or the boulangerie, no casual stroll to the Eifel tower, no romantic walk along the Seine. No, treats were ordered in; the atmosphere was artificial and air conditioned, in SUVs with blacked out windows. Even the Lamborghini involved endless goes at the outfits, each one posed and carefully styled for Instagram, before he could even turn the engine on. Tanya, the make-up artist, and Tony, the very camp dresser, would be called for 20 minutes before the photographs, taken with professional lighting and made to feel authentic by the hand held iPhone, limited edition – a diamond encrusted gift from Apple. Priceless. Like the jewellery – diamonds from Tiffany’s.

Yes, the rich got richer. Everything Kim touched turned to gold, or platinum, or diamond. Always in the headlines, always in the press, but much more importantly, always on social media – Snapchat, InstaG, Facebook, Whatsapp – she might just as well have invented them all. She played them all, like a grand master, moving pieces around countless boards, seeing patterns and moves that took him days to catch on to. She made sure the paparazzi were everywhere, and where they weren’t, her social media stepped in like a presidential campaign. Everything and anything to keep Kim in the news.

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