exploremusic

“It’s ruined me. My credit is shit. I can’t access money.”

It’s true. Everyone from American Express to a maid service is after her.

“There are 102 credit cards with my name on them. I have pictures of the front and backs of all of them. And all of them are fake—except one.” At stake is $350,000 in charges.

“I’ve been hiring and firing lawyers to help me with this.” She goes on to tell of a female attorney who has since stopped taking her calls because “they got to her” after she mentioned something to Page 6 of the New York Post. “She’s disappeared.”

“Are you still living in New York now?” I ask.

“Yeah—in a SHITHOLE. That’s all I can afford. I either live in nice hotels when I’m on the road or in a shithole.“

She slumps back into the chair and starts removing the last traces of her stage makeup. In front of her is a sheaf of legal documents. She picks them up and starts flipping through them.

“This is what I do now. I do this stuff for fourteen hours a day. Then I play a show.”

The documents are all part of the paperwork she needs to sort through to establish and prove her case. “I have to read EVERY SINGLE WORD because I’m never going to sign anything again without reading it. How do I know there isn’t some power of attorney clause in her that’s gonna bite me?”

Courtney is not doing all this on her own, though. She’s assembled what’s been called her Twitter Army.

Part 4…