This is a short story that I wrote about two months ago. I intended this to be a commentary on how I feel celebrities are made. There is nothing too special about it; most of it is implied questions on free will and a slight jab at corporate secrets.
The story was written for fun, but this does not mean that events similar to the ones in this story are not happening. All right, manufacturing humans to specification may not be actually happening (who knows?), but when I hear the occasional celebrity gossip, I wonder if some of it has been created to maintain interest in the celebrities.

Three novels have influenced this story in a subtle manner:
Brave New World, which shows people that are too absorbed in pleasure to realize that somewhere among the oodles of information, there are some things that are plain wrong. (people will not consider what they hear, but will spread the celebrity gossip around as soon as they hear it)
1984, which has every scrap of information is controlled by a central authority. (in this case, every "leak" about our young celebrity has already been planned or manufactured ahead of time)
The Winner Takes it All, which offers a view of what it is like to be a celebrity when one of the protagonists gets chosen for a starring role in a major new film (the young celebrity's life has been pre-determined, up until her dying breath)