Who You Are

This is about me, but it could be about anyone. You move to New York from the Midwest with nothing but an art degree and a sense of possibility. You couldn't say who you are definitively — a performer, writer type, artist? You want to be famous. When your one-person show gets into a festival, you think you've hit the big time. You haven't. The theater is on the fourth floor of a walk-up building in Chinatown. Upstairs is a dance company. They stomp and stomp and stomp through your performance. Your father was right. Dreams do not pay the rent.

The Interview

Someone you know who knows someone calls to say Hollywood Actor is doing a stint on Broadway. He needs a New York assistant — what do you think?

What you think: See, world? I am totally on my way.

The interview happens on the millionth floor of a high-rise, in Hollywood Actor's apartment. Wraparound windows overlook the river. You wait, watching the sun sink behind New Jersey, trying to keep it cool. You've never met a celebrity before in your life. When Hollywood Actor finally comes out to greet you, he looks exactly like he does in the movies, except he is wearing pajamas. He hires you on the spot.

Working so close to fame is practically like being famous yourself, you think.

The Job

You're expected to do everything for him. Just … everything. You load the fridge. You organize cleaning services, buy shampoo. You're eager to do well. You learn how to spend his money without thinking about it, while saving everything you can of your own. You literally eat his leftovers.

Over time, you get to know each other, develop a rapport. You go with him to talk shows. You remind him of appointments. You pack his suitcase, get his dry-cleaning, water the plants. You are part wife and part maid. You are wife/maid. You learn that you are willing to go to great lengths to keep a badly paid job ($500/week) because of what you think it says about your potential.

Backstage at Conan you see Pink warming up her voice in the bathroom. You wonder how you can be so close to what you want and so far at the same time.

Broadway

The Broadway musical starring the Actor opens to rave reviews. Sometimes, when you come out of the stage door, packs of fans stand around waiting for their favorite stars. When they see you, they think you're somebody. They get a flash of excitement. Then they see that you are nobody and they are crestfallen.

You want to be a somebody. You start doing stand-up comedy. The Actor comes to see a show. Everybody says, "There he is!" He tells you how well you did and it feels great, but you're not really sure you want to be a comedian. You keep at it. Because you dream about walking the red carpet someday too.

The Loft

The Actor buys a loft the size of a monastery. The ceilings are so high, you have to pay someone to change the light bulbs.

You are greeted by Extremely Famous Artist selling the loft. I love you, you want to tell her, I moved to New York so I could be just like you. You reach over to stroke her pet. "Don't touch her," the Artist snips. "She's not friendly."

The Artist works in a studio behind the master bedroom, a long, windowless room lined with wood shelves and closets crammed with art-making stuff. You die. The Actor says he loves the creative energy. He turns the studio into a gym.

His Fame

He is famous everywhere, even in his apartment, among friends. Actors hang around at the loft. They're young; they're ambitious. They're not that different from you except you buy them chips and candy for their movie nights.

One of the late-night friends, a TV chef, comes over to greet you when you're out at his restaurant with your boyfriend's family.

TV Chef sends over appetizers. You look like a big shot. The Actor has become the most interesting thing about you and that makes you feel small.

His Career

Everyone wants the Actor just to be funny, but he wants to be serious. His cable drama gets canceled. A role he wants goes to Philip Seymour Hoffman.

You think: Funny is so easy for him that he doesn't know it's a gift. You learn that it's best to do the thing that comes naturally, the thing you love doing. You wonder what that is for you. You start a funny blog about your exploits as a personal assistant. People like it.

Power

You join the Actor for lunch with a hilarious TV actress. She is cool as hell. She says that when she makes someone laugh, it makes them feel good. They think they've shared a special bond. The Actor nods. He knows what she means.

After work, at comedy clubs, you try it out on people. You drink a lot and you crack jokes. It works. You feel strong and sexy, and it's easier than intimacy. You and your boyfriend hit a rough patch. All you ever are is out.

Boundaries

You fly to Ohio for your grandfather's funeral. You tell the Actor to go ahead and call if he needs anything. You don't think he'll actually do it. But he does. You're on your way to the cemetery when the Actor calls about a dinner reservation. Your eyes sting with tears. You think, I need to quit this job.

You begin to understand that outside things — your city, your career, your relationship — cannot tell you who you are. You need to find that for yourself.

The End

The Actor falls in love. His girlfriend gets pregnant. You make eggs for the new mom. Famous people send flowers that were picked out, signed for, sent by an assistant like you.

For the first time, you really don't want to be there. You don't want to be support staff for someone else's life. You want to live your own life, even if it's not glamorous.

You learn that to be what you want, you have to be brave. You need talent and perseverance, and you need to know who you are. Being famous, you finally understand, is not enough.

You become a writer. Much to your surprise, it's what you really wanted all along.

This article was originally published as "Confessions of a Celebrity Assistant" in the February 2015 issue of Cosmopolitan. Click here to get the issue in the iTunes store!