Fuckboy: A Memoir

I was born into Hollywood, but not the version you see on screen. I grew up around fame, private parties, closed door gatherings, and power circles that operated quietly behind the scenes. Conversations stopped when kids walked into the room. My grandparents were in films. Image mattered. Reputation mattered. Silence mattered more. Think Euphoria meets Jerry Springer. Now remove the cameras. Remove the script. Leave the consequences. Before I was old enough to understand influence, I understood dysfunction. Before I understood love, I understood chaos. I grew up watching adults navigate private alliances, whispered loyalty, and environments that felt larger than life but offered very little protection. By eight years old, I was riding through Skid Row with a recovering heroin addict who would become the first man who ever stayed. By my teens, instability felt normal.