Regrettably, I don't own any ROBOTECH characters.

A/N: I really hope this little ficlet can effectively break through this bad case of writers' block I am having. A bazillion thank-you's to my loving husband who presented this idea as a challenge for me a few months ago. I finally got off my sorry butt and did something about it.

oxo

Monday. 8am. The offices of Tom Sharkey.

Tom Sharkey looked around the mahogany conference room table. There's the stylist, Catt Smyth. To her right, the PR spokesperson, Reina Hanover. Across the table sat the assistant, Bayleigh Riddle. And flanked by her bodyguards, Joe and Cliff, sat Lynn Minmei, the one who called this early morning meeting. Tom eyed his former client, and waited for the show to begin. Minmei was resplendent in a fluffy faux fur jacket, and her face was masked behind a pair of bug-eyed shades reminiscent of the style favored by the turn of the century starlets. She was furiously tapping into her latest-model Blackberry. Tom glanced at the rest of the staff and repressed a sigh, opting to clear his throat meaningfully instead.

Minmei continued her tapping, drawing out the suspense for a few more minutes before finally setting the device aside and leaning her elbows on the table. "I need to overhaul my image," she began without preamble. "Ever since my falling out with Kyle, I need to get back into the public eye."

Tom nodded. "I understand, Minmei. I could make a couple of calls, and start booking some venues. I can also see if we can get you set up with a producer and get you back into the studio ASAP."

Minmei waved her hand dismissively. "Who said anything about records? I need to get my face back into the public. I will not be pushed out of the limelight by the likes of Kendra Klein and Emily Bricks." Minmei reached into her vintage Balenciaga hobo (who knew that relic survived the war?) and slapped down the latest issues of New Vogue and Millenium. The covers were graced with the pretty, teenaged faces of Kendra and Emily – the latest darlings of the media. "I was barely the older than these girls when I made my breakthrough. I am not even through with my 20s, and people have already written me off as a has-been!" Minmei's lip curled in distaste.

Tom tapped the table thoughtfully. "Well, there will be a benefit gala at the Monument's Four Seasons this Saturday. I know it's last minute, but I can see if I can book an appearance…."

"I need something edgier," Minmei interjected firmly. "Younger. I need to show people the Lynn Minmei has still got it." She took off her shades and chewed the end of the ear hook. "I've been doing some research over the weekend, and there really is no such thing as bad publicity." Minmei reached into her bag and pulled out printouts of turn of the century tabloids she gleaned from the Internet. "Paris. Lindsey. Britney. Those girls were in every consecutive issue of anything printed in the first decade of 2000. Not everything was good or flattering, but the media snapped it all up. The public wanted to know what their next moves were. They hungered for these girls. No matter how outrageous their behavior was, they were still highly sought after. I want that!"

"But Minmei," Tom protested. "You already have an established fan base. Are you certain you want to discard what you've built all these years, just to sell some tabloids?"

"My fan base has already grown up, and the younger fans are all over Kendra Klein and Emily Bricks," Minmei pouted. "It's about time I lost the innocent girl image. It didn't do anything for me but break my heart!" Minmei hastily dashed away some tears and reached across the table and snatched up Millenium. She flipped through the pages before slapping it down in front of her assistant. Minmei pointed at the picture of an attractive male model who was clearly half her age. "Bayleigh, find out what club Joshua Jones will be appearing at this weekend and make sure I am there!" She turned to her PR person. "Reina, make sure the paparazzi is on hand to snap us together. Start some mumblings about how I took him back to my suite and we hooked up for the night. I can be drastic if I have to. Maybe we can 'leak' out a sex tape later on." Minmei chewed her lip thoughtfully and perused the turn of the century printouts. "Hair extensions were pretty big back in the day…. Catt, see if we can get some for me. I don't want to do anything drastic like shave my head, but maybe if you can get some extensions in some different color, I can do a streaky look. Bring that retro look back. If that doesn't work, I don't mind dyeing my hair."

"Minmei, I don't think this is a good idea," Tom interjected.

"Tom, I will need you to hook me up with the latest cutting edge producer there is right now," Minmei said, ignoring Tom's protests. "We don't have to cut an album ASAP, but perhaps dangling the idea of an album in the public will keep them guessing."

"Minmei, this could possibly be career suicide," Tom said. "You worked too hard to let yourself spiral downward so publicly."

Minmei set her lips into a straight line. "Tom, you're a sweetie and I appreciate your concern. It may be a career suicide, as you put it, but it may not. I learned early in my career the sad truth. The public feeds on schadenfreude. They love spectacles and train wrecks. Let's give them what they want."

"But at your expense?" Tom reasoned. "Don't do this to yourself, Minmei."

Minmei drew herself to her full height and declared resolutely, "Don't try to stop me, Tom. Either you'll help or I'll just look for another agent." Suddenly, an unbidden image floated before her eyes. The sky was red with raining missiles. The air was thick with smoke and there was death and destruction all around. She watched the love of her life wrench free from her grip and run off with another woman. The two were running off to heroically save the city, while she cowered off to the shelter with her broken heart. Minmei lowered her eyes and muttered under her breath, "I am doing this because I have nothing left to lose."