The Princess and the Paparazzi by Stephen King
Even more briefly we saw the ugly paparazzi feeding frenzies that probably ensue every time Britney hits the street...and one image, almost as stark as a police crime-scene photo, of a red-eyed, red-nosed Britney holding her baby to her chest, seeming to ask the camera, Where am I? Who am I? How did I get here? Why are you looking at me?
The answers, in brief, are these: You are in public; you are a pop creation now entering the final third of your active performing career; you got here as a result of youth, publicity, and prurient interest. The answer to the last question is the most unpleasant. We are looking at you, Brit, because we cannot yet look away.
