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It’s easier for Samantha though, not only with her mates in London who she can crash with, but the fact that she is natural at all this – she’s like a shark, she never stops.

I can only get down there when there’s an event or a shoot, and the production company will pay for my travel and hotel.

But I stop scrolling the Sam stories when something else hits me in the face.

If I thought that Samantha getting all that attention was bad, nothing has prepared me seeing Damon’s stories.

TUG OF LOVE reads one headline. He’s been spotted with Imelda, the same model that Samantha was papped kissing.

Apparently they left a hotel together, at 6a.m. and he shouted “I’m not with her,” when the paps took his photo.

I can’t help but zoom in on the picture.

She’s hanging back, her lipstick all smudged, shielding her face from the photographers but not the love bites all down her neck.

I’m blinking back the tears and trying to persuade myself once again to put down my stupid phone when it vibrates in my hand.

Babe, you’ll have seen the pics of Immy I bet. Don’t worry, she’s nobody to me. Ben thought it would be valuable to be seen with her, but she’s a full blown lesbian, which is why she was noshing Sam. You’ve nothing to worry about. You’re my number one girl.

I’ve still not got used to the novelty of seeing my friends in the papers.

It’s so funny, their photos are just there, published alongside other celebrities like footballers, or film stars like Chad Schmidt casually hanging out on his yacht, and then the serious news stories.

It’s like I’m living out this surreal dream, where all the things and people that I thought were totally untouchable are within reach.

So, in some ways when I’m comparing myself, my scrolling is a lot of fun.

I’ll be sitting, head in Mam’s lap, like now, and laughing away at some of the comments people are saying about Damon, or Madison, or Layla.

I’ll scowl and say “what do you know?” if anyone says anything mean, out loud, as if the random avatar can hear me and will change their ways.

It’s funny as whenever anyone comments something cruel about Layla and Madison, I can see how totally ridiculous they are, and how the person must be seriously unhappy with their own lives to write something so horrible.

That, or they’re half-blind, and can’t see how stunning Layla and Madison are.

But, the thing is, I can’t do that for myself.

No matter how hard I try. But then, more and more stories about Damon have started appearing.

At first, the girls were just in the background of the pap pics and I’d zoom in on them before managing to convince myself (buoyed by Damon’s texts) that he wasn’t actually with those girls and that they just happened to be in the back of the shot or posing for a photo or hanging out in the same crowd.

That’s just the waitress, she’s not a patch on you.

She’s a wannabe, I didn’t touch her

Great PR opp to be seen with that fox

She jumped on me

I wanted so hard to believe him. But sometimes I couldn’t think what to reply – I didn’t want to be jealous, sound possessive or like I didn’t trust him. But the photos and stories kept coming. Sometimes, silence was all I had. But that didn’t help.

You didn’t reply to my last text, so I wanted some company! But they’re just friends, you know me, babe, I’m a touchy-feely guy.

You’ve left me all alone, staying up there, you don’t want to be boring, do you?

But I couldn’t win. When I did comment, he made out to sound like I was some kind of crazed stalker.

Obv, they’re just fans who asked for a picture, stop being so paranoid.

I can’t help it if the ladies love me!

It was a networking event! You have to be friendly!

It’s not what it looks like. Her boyfriend was just out of shot.

Over the next week, the girls seemed to move out from the background and closer and closer into the frame.

Until they were standing with their arms round him.

Or getting him to sign their boobs, or drink a shot from their abs.

These girls were really pretty, too. It’s like there’s a scale of hotness, and there’s hot but approachable, which would be like a club promoter girl, or a barmaid, who are basically ‘popular girl at school’ pretty.

Then there are these girls don’t seem to have another job beyond working the party circuit – they must spend every hour of the day preening themselves, plus they all seem to be six foot tall and skinny enough to hide behind a lamppost. And weirder still, most of them don’t even smile.

It’s not like I don’t know how to get my glam on, but I usually know the vibe of the party scene up here.

Normally the bars are full of friendly, blonde, short but curvy girls with a wardrobe full of all the best stuff from Topshop.

They know how to style their hair bouncy and bombshell, and the bouncers on the doors let them skip entry.

That’s the sort of girl I’m used to being weighed up against in the clubs – and I can, when I’ve had my tan done, and popped on my best boob-tube dress, rival them as I have my secret weapon: I’m silly, funny and up for a laugh.

I don’t mind if I wreck my make-up, or have a piggyback ride even if my bandage dress is too short.

Damon once said that “no one makes me laugh like you do, Angelica.” But how can I make him laugh, remind him of all of that, when we’re barely seeing each other?

I’ve had my commitments up here and he’s had his, erm, commitments down there.

My phone problem isn’t helped by Madison and Layla who are also keeping an eye on the papers for me, texting any new activity as soon as it breaks, as if I’m not already immediately seeing it each time I hit refresh.

They’re not just looking out for Damon, but the others, too.

Like me, they can’t afford to be down there all the time, so we’re having to think of inventive ways to make sure our names stay in the press and, until season two is announced, people don’t forget about us.

And Madison, who as a runner doesn’t have the same contracts we do, has started to become a name in her own right.

I’m so damn happy for her. She’d said if she didn’t start to get papped she’d have to go take another runner job – she’d heard that a dead serious politics show was hiring.

I couldn’t imagine her delivering coffee and cleaning make up stains off politician’s collars, so I’m so happy she’s getting recognised too.

Although Madison has her not-so-secret weapon right there on her chest. She’s just done a photoshoot with Balls , the supposed football magazine that’s 80% naked girls, 20% football.

As for Layla, she’s a lot more chilled about the whole thing.

She says that long-term she’ll set up a business, maybe a chain of salons.

But I still don’t know what I want. I love the idea of a clothing range, maybe even a make-up deal, and I’m too scared to tell Fliss that I used to sing.

Balls have emailed Fliss a few times, saying they’d be keen to shoot me too.

But I’ve said no every time. It’s not that I judge Madison for doing it, she looks incredible in the pictures and, as a bonus, she’s getting to shag so many footballers.

It’s just I don’t feel sexy, not in that way, especially not in a bare white studio with the lenses trained on me.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m sexy when I’m with a guy, as long as I’m lost in the moment.

I just can’t perform sexiness. Arching my back, and licking my lips, shaking my bozzies in people’s faces, for everyone to see.

I’m meant to be all pouty and seductive and I just get the giggles.

But Madison can really switch it on, as it’s not a performance with her, it’s just who she is, through and through.

She’s OTT and doesn’t care if people don’t like it.

I’ve seen her pole dance round a golf umbrella, do a striptease on a packed train, and even attempt the splits on stage in a club when she wasn’t wearing any pants.

But it works. She always gets the guys she wants – and she won’t let any of them tame her.

But somehow, I am managing to remain in the papers, without doing much of anything.

They say all publicity is good publicity, but I’m not convinced that’s the case here.

Every time Damon is papped with a different girl, the papers print the old pictures of us in the house or at the television awards, alongside headlines like:

ROMEO DONE. The reality TV lothario had an on-off relationship with sweet but gullible Angelica during the first season of North Stars.

The pair looked very loved up at The British Television Awards, but haven’t been photographed together since.

It was the romance that captured the nation but by the looks of our exclusive pictures Angelica may end up heartbroken once more.