Seamstress for the band"
-Tiny Dancer, Elton John
Monica leaves home at 15, having learned that intellect means shit when you're blonde with long legs and pert tits and a father with roving hands.
She ends up in Hollywood, and unlike other ragtag runaways, she has no dreams of stardom. She just figures if she's going to starve, it might as well be in the sunshine.
She ends up putting costumes together for a two-bit band, and if she spends more time on her knees than bent over the sewing machine, she can handle that.
She knows what men want, and she just needs to pay the rent.