Joe: I'm not really a millionaire, but I really love you.
Contestant: I'm not really a woman, but I still love you.
Ok, so I liked it. The problem was, I started coming up with too much content to fit into the ~5k words of the contest. I tried to shoehorn it in, but I ended up with 'The Real Prince Charming', which, although it told the story, it really didn't satisfy me. I was introducing too many characters and I had so many plans for all of them.
But I just plain ran out of room. I had about 500 words left, and I hadn't gotten to the point.
So the ending ended up completely rushed, even more so that the rest of the story.
Now, let's see what I can do with infinite room.
As was suggested, I needed a bit of build up before the first scene, thanks Barbara. Hope you don't mind sharing a name with my character ;)
One thing you will quickly learn about me is I'm a bit ADD. Friends have called me flighty, and I have even been called a ditz a time or seven. Take this paragraph for example. I introduced the action and then went directly to talking about myself. Yeah, I'm like that.
My wife and I had gone out for our seventh wedding anniversary. Luckily, at least in my book, we had no children, or the events that came next would have been a lot harder to handle.
Ok, I'm backing up again. I should start on a happier note. This is a fairytale after all, so why don't I begin with a traditional:
Once upon a time. . . there was an actor named Donnie. That's me. Now Donnie loved to act. He first caught the bug when he was in grade school during the infamous Sixth Grade Play. I say infamous because it was not only the first play that Donnie ever acted in, but it was also the first play that he crossed gender lines.
There was a shortage in girls that year, and they needed someone to play the Queen. No, the irony hasn't been lost on me over the years.
So, I had a few lines to say, and I said them okay, I think. My mother uploaded them to you tube, and you might even be still able to find them there. Do a search for Donnie the Queen.
Yeah, mom was never one to have a problem with any role I chose to play, and I know for a fact that she'd have preferred a daughter. She got her wish, but that part isn't for later.
So, I was an only child being raised by a single mother, and all I wanted to do was act. My friends thought I was great, but no one else seemed to agree. My mother refused to give up, however. I got my first screen time as an extra in 'The Life and Times of a Teenage Hypochondriac.' It was my first direct to DVD movie as well.
I ended up in a lot of those it seems. You see, when producers are desperate enough to cast their sister-in-law's cousin's son in a film because no one they really want will consider them, that's where I came in.
Contrary to some things people have said, there are only three types of actors: A list, B list, and everyone else.
I admit now that before my awakening, I was one of the everyone else, but I wanted to at least be a B list actor.
I didn't want to be Tom Hanks or Ben Stiller or Bruce Willis or any of the other big name stars.
No, sir, my idol was Bruce Campbell, king of the B list actors.
I saw all of his movies. I watched 'Xena' just on the off chance I'd see him. I watch 'Burn Notice' because he's there.
Yeah, I had a crush on Bruce Campbell.
So, I aspired to hit the big times of the B list, but all I could get was everyone else rolls, or unnamed un-credited roles in the background.
Mom moved us to Hollywood from our home in Dallas, Texas when I turned thirteen. As she said, it was to give me more opportunities to be a star. It did get me my first big screen appearance.
I was the first kid to die in 'Arcade Rampage.' Total screen time about three seconds.
It was a big deal for the fourteen-year-old me. I was in horror movies, and I was happy to see the backstage makeup. I loved the way that a person could be converted from themselves into just about anything else.
I was growing up in Hollywood and having the time of my life. I even got paid for a few of my roles. The role that really changed my life was one for which I got no credit, and was again unnamed. Unnamed male teen #14. Or was it #15. There was some confusion on the set about it if I recall. I had just turned 18 so I was able to get into my first real slasher. Nudity, blood and gore. "Sorority House Murders III," Even though it was a B list movie I got to run around for most of it as one of the unnamed teens stuck in the house from hell.
Yeah, I know, that's not exactly what the storyline says, but hey, it's what the people on set called it.
I have to admit that I fell in lust with her the first time she took off her clothing on set. Well, I had the same feeling for pretty much all the girls there, but Aimee was different.
She asked me out after production concluded.
Of course I said yes. We took it so slow, and I didn't even kiss her until we'd been dating for five months.
She asked me to marry her, and of course I said yes. We were married thirteen months to the day after our first date. We thought it was funny being in the horror movie industry and all. We were both nineteen and nothing could get us down.
The other person I met while we were doing "Sorority House Murders III," was Karl Romano. Karl was a special effects god. He just enjoyed the environment of low budget slashers more than big budget blockbusters. Especially as the advent of digital effects was putting people like him out of business.
Me, I think I like a rubber mask so much more than a post processed digital effect.
More about him later.
Shortly after we got married, I got my first B list role, and got to work with Karl again. I think this was the first time I was ever Barbara, even though I didn't have a proper name for her yet.
Okay, so some of you remember the film, but most of you are clueless as to what I'm talking about.
"The Transsexual Stalker." I know the bad light it cast transsexuals in, and I have tried to get it pulled, but apparently too many people like it. It became a cult classic after The Real Prince Charming aired.
So, I was in the title role as a transsexual serial killer who stalked her victims and then performed the GRS that she was denied due to her psychopathy.
I was much happier about the role at the time.
Unfortunately to understand what happens later, it is important to know what went on during the filming of the movie.
Have I mentioned yet that Karl is a perfectionist?
He could have sculpted me a couple of breast forms using a generic mannequin, but that wasn't good enough for Karl. He had a lifecast of my torso done so he could get an exact match to my chest wall on the inside. He wanted those breasts to be a part of me.
I've never thanked him enough for that.
Ok, what is a lifecast you ask? It is a plaster cast of a living body, which is then turned into a positive, or stone onto which custom appliances, also known as prosthetics, are molded. Often, the stone is interchangeably called a lifecast as well. Now, I wasn't that hairy of a man, but even so, my entire torso had to be waxed. Yes, underarm as well.
When he was done, I had a perfect pair of B cup breasts. They looked perfect on screen and you can even see about thirty seconds of 'nudity' with them fully exposed in the film. For those of you with a morbid curiosity the scene runs from 1:21:42 to 1:22:11. I think the scene might even be out there on the web somewhere since the whole The Real Prince Charming fiasco.
I even wore them home once or twice, at Aimee's insistence. She really got off on it.
Yes, they were good enough that even during, um, rigorous physical exercise they didn't reveal themselves as anything other than part of me.
The only problem with them was that they only really stayed looking good for 12 to 14 hours of normal use. After that cracks would begin to appear and they would start to fall apart under their own weight.
Great for movies, but horrible for anything else.
Just getting the role in that movie was getting me roles in other movies left and right, it seemed. Which was a good thing because production spent more time stopped than otherwise over the next three years. There were weeks where I would spend Monday with breasts, Tuesday through Friday as a mutant monster, and then Saturday with breasts again. I would never have given it up for the world.
The first role I got after Transsexual started production was the monster role in "Catastrophic Failure." Well, you know what I mean if you've seen the film. Yep, that was me under all that makeup. Ilene Carr joined my circle of friends at this point.
She was in charge of 'Special Wardrobe.' I don't know if there's another one like her in Hollywood, but what she does is this: She provide the under garments and generic appliances that give you to proper line on screen.
Guys need to look like girls? Those breasts need to disappear for the death scene? That's what she does. She assists the special effects artist in making his creations work.
She was as much an artist as Karl in her own way, and so Karl decided to hire her.
The first two years after she was hired were some of the stormiest at Washed Out Bridge, Kyle's special effects studio, that I can ever remember. Every time I saw them, apart or together, they would argue about whose job was more important to the process of making an actor presentable.
Eventually they did the only thing possible to end the argument: They got married, and have been blissfully happy ever since.
So, it took all of nine months of principle photography to finish "Catastrophic Failure," which has to be one of the more apropos movie names I've ever heard. It was out of theaters before the end of it's opening weekend. No one went.
Then I was in "L.A. Horror Story." You know, the one about the psychotic plastic surgeon? No, not the lead this time. I played the boyfriend Hank who ends up killing the evil surgeon.
I was completely ripped apart by the critics for that one.
The last movie I filmed while still doing 'Transsexual' was my only romantic movie role, and no, I will not be telling anyone, ever, what the name of it is.
They hired me to be the female lead.
I went up for the male lead, just for the fun of it and they hired me to be the female.
I was so embarrassed when I explained to them that I was male.
I think it was the shaved legs and shorts that did me in on that one. I'd just come from the set of 'Transsexual' and well, you know how it goes. Before I knew it I was reading for the girl. Cody isn't that feminine of a name, and I had no idea at the time, honest. I did think it was kind of a strange scene for a supposed hetero romance film, but I was a bit out of it after sixteen hours straight of filming.
Oh, yeah, I was so out of it that I'd forgotten to remove the breast forms before leaving the set. That also might have contributed to the confusion.
I don't think that IMDB has caught onto the fact that Dawn and Donnie are the same actor. Crap, now you're all going to look up Dawn Leary on IMDB and find my movie.
Yes, I am an attention whore.
So, Washed Out helped me with the makeup, and I got lessons in acting like a woman acting a role.
More specifically I learned how to present myself as a woman.
This was my true awakening. I enjoyed that role completely and was truly sad when principle photography was done. They had to re-shoot a couple of scenes over the next couple of months. And then Dawn made another appearance at the SAG awards. I actually got nominated for Best Actress in an Independent Film. They showed the film at both Sundance and Cannes, but it received no awards.
Unfortunately, that film was when things started falling apart for Aimee and myself.
I was out of work for almost two years after we finished filming the unnamed film, but I wasn't worried too much about it. Residuals from the unnamed film were keeping us afloat and slowly filling up our joint account.
Being out of work wasn't what caused the most friction. It was the fact that I'd gotten a role as a woman. . .in a movie that my wife had auditioned for.
We even separated for a while during this time. We never got divorced, but she went home to live with her mother for a while. My getting a role on "Huguenot" fixed things. I think playing a renaissance French Soldier instead of another female role helped. I never told her that I tried out twice for the movie. Once each as Dawn and Donnie. Yes, I have dual membership in the screen actors guild.
One of the stipulations for the film was that I never cut my hair. The movie was to take place chronologically over a two year period, and my character apparently made a pact with god to protect him in his crusade against the French Protestants.
So, it took two years to film the movie.
If you haven't guessed it yet, I was the villain of the piece, and I got a truly spectacular death scene in the last five minutes of the film.
It's on Netflix, if you're interested.
The scene is at 2:25:06.
Really cool, huh? I especially like how I fall off the wall after being shot with the musket and then get dragged away by the horse.
She was upset that my hair was longer and thicker than hers without my even trying, but she lived with it for the duration of the principle photography.
That was six months before our anniversary. I'd gotten it trimmed a little, but that only seemed to convince my hair to grow more. I'd averaged about ten inches a year, and my hair was just over two feet long from root to tip.
I would pull it into a high ponytail every time we went out. Which would start an argument.
That night, we went out to a fancy restaurant and were asked if we 'ladies' would like anything else, not once but three times, at which Aimee got so angry that she loudly informed the restaurant that I was a man.
Well, that sort of killed the evening.
We went out to the car, arguing the entire way. We stopped at a red light, and continued yelling at each other.
She said some things she didn't mean. I said things I never intended. She suggested something untoward. I told her it would be more satisfying that a similar act with her.
The light turned green and I slammed on the gas.
A sixteen year old was driving home from the prom with his date. They were otherwise distracted and ran the red light.
Up until that moment, I thought I was really doing something for the environment by driving a 'green' car. Like most of the high efficiency cars of the time it was more plastic than metal.
The teen was driving a 65 Mustang rag top that he'd restored with his father.
The passenger seat and most of the rest of my car disappeared. Aimee was dead at the scene. It was a miracle that I survived. Literally. I took a piece of shrapnel to my neck which cut into my carotid artery and my larynx. The scrap of plastic plugged the hole it created or I would have bled out before the EMTs got there.
They patched me up and got me to the hospital. They were able to repair the damage to my neck, but I will have a light scar there for the rest of my life. It's especially visible in certain lights, like under the camera. What's no longer visible, as it received the most damage, was my Adam's Apple. They had to work to get it to look normal, and ended up just shaving it down.
No broken bones. Just the open neck wound. They deemed me a danger to myself and kept me in a state run asylum until I was fully healed.
They held of on the funeral until I was released.
Everyone we knew was at the funeral. It was a closed casket because they hadn't been able to make her presentable. I cried as if my heart was breaking.
At our wedding we had made vows that we would be with each other forever. She promised me that there was only one person in this world she wanted. I vowed I would never love another woman as long as I lived.
But after seven years, she was already abandoning me. How would I survive without her?
I decided there and then not to survive without her.
"Thanks for coming, Karl. I really appreciate it."
"You going to be okay, Donnie?"
"I'm going to be just fine."
Julia looked concerned. She was one of Aimee's oldest friends, and she and I had been friends because of that. "I could come home with you, Donnie. To help you through this?"
I was pretty sure I knew what she meant, but it wasn't going to happen, "thanks for the offer, Julia. Not this time, okay?"
"Donnie, we're here for you. You're not alone."
"I know. I'll be okay, everyone. Really. Good bye." I waved and went to my rental. I drove that to the dealership and dropped it off. I realized in that moment that I'd been preparing for this since I got out of the hospital.
The cab I'd had to call arrived and I quietly got in the back. "Where can I take you, miss?"
I gave him my address and didn't bother to correct his mistake.
I got to our apartment and locked the door. After turning on the TV and turning on the sound I stripped myself naked and spread Aimee's clothing all over the bed. I put on one of her dresses and went out to get some alcohol early the next morning. I hadn't yet gotten up the courage to end it, but I couldn't bear to be away from the feel of her clothing.
There were no comments over my appearance.
Scotch is my poison of choice, and I purchased a gallon of it. Five fifths for me.
I drank the first one shortly after arriving home, and I began to feel looser and more in touch with what was going on. Halfway through the second fifth, my neighbors called the cops on me because they thought me yelling at the ghost of my dead wife was a domestic disturbance.
I showed them my apartment, to let them know I was the only one there. They called me 'miss' on the way out the door. It must have been because I was still wearing the dress. I took it off and put it back on the bed.
I finished the second half of my second fifth and slept it off.
I woke up the next morning bleary eyed and hung over. There were still three fifths left, and figured they'd only go to waste after I was dead so I started into the third.
The dregs were all that remained when I got out the shotgun and loaded it.
I looked over the reminders of my life. The pictures of Aimee, of Aimee and me, of our life, our hopes and our dreams.
I started taking gulps from the fourth fifth, and then figured it was now or never. I spent the next half an hour trying to figure out how to pull the trigger while pointing it at my head.
Luckily I was too drunk for critical thinking.
As I was trying to get back up off the floor after my most recent attempt failed, I heard something on the TV blaring away in the other room.
"Ladies! Producer Mark Shurtleff is looking for the most lovely single ladies for the opportunity of a lifetime. Do you have what it takes to be the next reality TV star? Do you want to be on a show similar to the Bachelor or Joe Millionaire? If you said yes then contact us now at the number 707-555-1432. Only the first thousand callers will have the opportunity to sit in a screening with Mark to see if you might just be the next reality TV star."
I admit: I was drunker than a skunk and as nervous as a whore in church when I made that call.
As you may have noticed from this statement, I've never lost my Texas accent or mannerisms in the years since I moved to the coast.
I put on my best lady Macbeth, without the horrible British accent, and said, "I saw your commercial on TV and I was wondering if I might have been one of the first thousand callers."
"Miss, there should be a spot for you. We are obligated to ask if you are now married, or if you are in a long term relationship and may become married within the next six months." The woman on the phone sounded like a bit of a hag. I imagined her to be overweight with wiry gray hair, and red lipstick.
"No, I'm not married, and I'm not in any sort of relationship at the present time."
"Perfect. What's your name, hun?"
"Your name?"
Name, name, name. . .crap! I looked at my DVD collection and the first thing that came to eye was my director's cut of Barbarella.
"Barb. . .ara"
"I need your last too name, honey."
Frantic I looked around, and there was my empty bottle of scotch on the floor. "Scott. My name is Barbara Scott."
"Ok, Barbara, I have an opening tomorrow at five, can you be here?"
"Sure, I can be there."
"Great, and wear something slinky and sexy. The producer will likely want to see how much fire you can ignite on the small screen." This last was said in a bored manner, as if she were reading from a script. For all I knew that is exactly what was happening.
It might have stopped there had I not lay down on the bed and felt my wife's clothing against my bare back. She'd loved the feel of satins and silks. I loved the feel of having them close to me.
What if I could keep them close to me for a longer period?
What if I really did show up at that casting call? Sure, I should have used the name Dawn Leary, but before that moment, like I said, I had no real intention of going through with it.
My heart began to beat a little faster, and my breathing became shallow. Could I do this? The unnamed movie proved I could. I'd fooled a director before, even if it was accidentally. Could I do it this time on purpose?
I would need to prepare. I'd need to do something with my hair and get my breast forms from Karl.
I was absent mindedly rubbing my leg, and something felt off. Crap. Hairy legs. I'd at least have to get a full body wax before all of this as well.
I picked up the phone again, "Hello, Julia."
"Donnie? What's wrong?"
"I'm drunk as a skunk. I just contemplated shooting myself with my shotgun. I have an audition tomorrow at five," I giggled after saying this.
"Ooookay. Donnie, maybe I should come over like I suggested earlier. . ."
"No, I wanted to know if I could come in. I need a complete wax, and you're the best at this sort of thing, Jules."
"Um, I only service women, Donnie."
I giggled at that, I don't know why. "I know that, Julia. I need to be a woman for my audition."
"Donnie. . ."
"I know. It sounds crazy, and it probably is, but I thought it would keep me closer to Aimee, and I'm drunk. Did I mention that? And so I figured that I'd get a full Brazilian, and. . .I don't know."
"Ok, look Donnie. I figure that you're too drunk to know what you're asking me to do, but if you haven't sobered up, and if you pay me $120 up front, then I'll give you the wax, for Aimee's sake." She didn't know about my time in the unnamed movie.
"Okay, I'll come right over."
"My last customer leaves at three. Come in about three thirty."
"Okay, Julia." I giggled again.
I figured her sober comment for a challenge so I went and got my last fifth out of the fridge and I finished polishing it off about two thirty. When I couldn't find my keys for ten minutes, only to realize they'd been in my hand the entire time, I figured that it was time to call a cab.
I'd called for cabs a lot to get home because I was too drunk to drive, but this would be the first time I called for one to leave home because I was too drunk to drive.
I giggled at the thought.
I walked to the door and began opening it, only to realize I was completely naked. I went back into my room and got on my clothing from the funeral. Stumbling, I made my way outside and waited for the cab on the curb.
I was dropped off at Julia's, yes that is the name of her establishment, at three twenty five, and I went and knocked on the door.
I was amazed I was even upright after the amount of alcohol I'd consumed in the last twenty-four hours. She got me into the room, and stripped me down. I was so sauced that I either couldn't feel it, or I didn't care. She left me the hair on top of my head, and a landing strip. I think she did my eyebrows as well.
I must have paid, as she performed her duty, although to this day I don't remember having done so. Then she bundled me out the back and up the stairs to her apartment, I presumed to sleep it off.
I remember her making a comment about me having drunk too much to be useful to her. I made a joke about scotch being the anti-Viagra which she laughed at. I remember glancing at the clock and seeing that it was five before I lost all consciousness.
I woke up the next morning with no clear recollection of what I'd done, and feeling strangely comfortable in my own skin for the first time in a while. The bedding felt really nice against me as I got up to use the restroom.
I was standing over the toilet, still waking up, when I really looked down at my legs for the first time. The really looked good. I wondered who the woman, standing in the bathroom with me, was.
I was still half asleep at this point, but I woke up quickly enough when I realized the woman in the bathroom was me.
"What in the heck did I do last night?"
"Not enough, Donnie."
Julia came into the bathroom wearing a smile. She had a gorgeous body, but I didn't have it in me to love her. She tried to hold it against me.
Then something occurred to me, "We didn't, I mean you and I weren't"
"No, we didn't, Donnie."
"Oh, thank god." I smiled in relief, "That would have been a mistake."
Her eyes flashed in anger and she began hitting me. "Get out of my house, you bastard. Get the hell out of my house."
I ran out of there in my boxers and undershirt. I left my wallet and everything else in her house. I turned to walk back up to get them and she threw my pants down the stairs at me.
I slipped on my pants, and walked barefoot to the nearest payphone.
Now, I had a splitting headache, and the sunrise that chose that moment to start did so maliciously. I squinted against the glare, and called a cab first, and then my favorite person in the world.
Karl had told me to come on over to his studio and they'd work me in.
The cab pulled up in front of the converted warehouse which housed Washed Out Bridge. I paid the cabbie and got out.
"Donnie, up for another role that they need to you come in makeup for?"
"You could say that."
I explained my plan from yesterday, what I remembered of it, and as I was telling him I had no idea why I was still going through with it. I was still embarrassed over being the female lead for the other show.
"So, how heavy are we going?"
"You're the expert. I need to pass up close and personal. I have to look 'hot'. We have to be able to apply it quickly and it has to last, I figure, 24 to 36 hours at a time."
"Sounds like you want me to use second skin."
"Huh? Never heard of that before."
"You wouldn't. People are still married to foam rubber or latex or silicone. That and second skin costs about eight thousand dollars per cubic foot."
I still had eighty thousand dollars in my bank account.
"I can cover ten cubic feet, anything beyond that. . ."
"With second skin we don't need to worry. It has been tested for up to six months continual use."
"It doesn't have to be reapplied?"
"Of course it has to be reapplied. The material lasts that long, even the edges. Not the glue."
I laughed at myself for that one.
"Basically, we use the right glue and you will be able to do pretty much anything except for go swimming. I have some ideas of glues that might even overcome that."
"So, what's the plan?"
"Well, we'll have to go with your breast forms from 'The Transsexual Stalker,' for today, I even have one of your bras from the movie. I can get sculpting for the second skin prosthetic right away. I still have a life cast of your face and torso, so I'll be able to come up with something really good."
I wasn't worried about my top. It's the down below that worried me.
I was still worried about it when Ilene walked into the room. I had one on and one off at the time, and she did a double take of my body. "Damn, Darko, you had a lot more body hair the last time I saw you in that chair getting that prosthetic attached."
She is punishing like that.
"Donni will need one of your gaffes."
"Sure think, honey."
Karl attached the breast forms to my chest, and I felt their familiar weight again. Hey, I spent three years, off and on, filming that movie, and an additional nine months filming the other movie after Transsexual wrapped. When all was said and done I'd spend almost two years total wearing them.
The slightest smudge of makeup and the line between me and my breasts completely disappeared. There wasn't even enough makeup there to really transfer to my clothing. These, unfortunately, would be a one use appliance. All the really good silicone prosthetics are one use.
I slipped into my red satin and black lace bra and settled my babies in place. I was starting to feel it again, what it was like to be a woman, and let my hips gently sway as I went in search of Ilene.
What she fitted onto me was a flesh-toned entrapment device designed to go seamlessly under another pair of underwear, and nothing like the gaffes I'd worn for that movie.
It went on, during which procedure I paid close attention so I could do it next time, and then she slipped a pair of satin panties that matched my bra on up my smooth legs.
I stepped out to go find a mirror. I was frankly a bit surprised, not that I should have been.
I was beautiful. I'd knew I could pass as a girl, but my hair was currently loose on my shoulders, and with that underwear? Looking at myself in that mirror, I knew that the woman standing there was me.
"There's no way I'm letting you out of here in what you came in wearing. It would be indecent."
"I have just the thing for him, honey."
"Wait, I wanted to wear one of Aimee's dresses for this."
"That can come later, when you land the role. Ilene is right. We need you in something that kills them dead."
Words almost fail me when describing this dress, but I'll try. Black. It had a turtle neck that covered me to my jaw line, but left my shoulders and back. It had a keyhole in the front. It was long enough, barely, that it still covered my panties when I sat, but not from a shallow angle.
I was sad to take off the bra, as it was one of my favorites, but for that dress, I would do just about anything.
"What are your plans for face and makeup?"
"Well, I thought I would do my own makeup and then a salon for my hair."
"There's no way that Barb is going anywhere the first time without the full treatment." Karl said.
"What are you going on about?"
"Look, do you want to simply enter this contest, or do you want to win it?"
"Well, I guess win it."
"Then you're going to need a lot more than just Ilene and I to pull this off. You'll need a full support team. The appliance will be about $12k, with backup, but other than that we need a voice coach and a makeup team to get you in and out in the shortest period of time possible. And you will have to be a woman one hundred percent of the time.
I thought of my life up to this point as a man. I thought about failed relationships and nights alone crying until I'd met Aimee, who had to ask me out that first time, and ask me to marry her.
Would it be so bad to be the woman for a while, or even to admit that it was more me than this male facade I'd presented to everyone else?
I took a deep breath and smiled, "Let's do this."
The rest of the day was a whirlwind of activity as Karl and Ilene called in the experts. I got crash courses in diction and poise. Walking in heels. My hair was impeccably styled, and my makeup was applied to perfection. At four we did last look in front of the mirror, and I was impressed. Really impressed. I didn't recognize myself at all.
Instruction on how to touch up my makeup were given and a leather clutch thrust into my hands.
Then I was out the door and into the back of Karl's car.
Karl opened the door for me, and I gratefully slid into the back seat. I knew that I had to put my rear in the seat first and then swing my legs in. I'd actually practiced it for that movie.
You know what. Fine. I'll tell you, since it wouldn't be that hard to figure it out since I've already given you the name under which I played my role. "Love's Sunset." Yes, it was a truly tragic death scene for me at the end. Yes, it made me cry the first time I saw it. I mean having your heroine die of cancer after admitting her love for the man who had stood with her through three failed marriages? And yes it's probably the best movie I've ever acted in.
Happy? Good. Now we're moving on.
We drove over to the location where the audition would be, and I realized that it was a cattle call.
"Crap, I'm not ready for this. I have no ID or guild number for Barbara or anything."
"Look in the clutch."
"You called in Giorgio didn't you?" I said looking at the contents.
Movies attracted some of the strangest people you would ever imagine.
Giorgio was unique even amongst all this variety. As far as I was aware I was the first person to use one of his props in a real life situation. Basically Giorgio was the guy that shows like CSI or Castle called when they wanted a realistic looking ID.
Giorgio also has a consulting job with the FBI teaching how to spot fake IDs and describing the processes used to create them.
I hadn't noticed them taking a photo of me, but there was Barb Scott looking back at me in a traditionally bad DMV photo.
They even gave me a new birthday to make me seem a little younger. Ok, a lot younger. I'd only turned eighteen a week ago according to this.
It was time to create a character. First, it was time to figure out my motivations.
"Who am I? Born and raised in Texas. Prom Queen? No, but it was a close thing. I've never forgiven my best friend for putting her name into the running."
Ok, knowing your character's history helps you to know their motivations. Knowing their motivations makes it real.
"I wear my heels to look taller, because I want to be noticed. I'm afraid of the notice at the same time. Texan to the soles of my shoes. Smart? Yeah, smart. No ditz here. But I've personally got ADD. flighty. I'll be flighty. Smart, but able to loose track of my conversation in the middle of it. Now, hopefully I can remember all this."
Karl was laughing at me in the front seat, "You're mostly describing yourself, you realize this?"
I put on my female voice that I'd practiced so long and hard for "Love's Sunset."
"Karl, honey. Would you just get my door for me so that I can get this meet and great over."
His jaw dropped. He'd wasn't needed on set with me for "Love's Sunset" so he'd never met Dawn.
He snapped his mouth shut and just chuckled. "you're going to knock 'em dead, Donnie."
"Just so long as they hire me, I don't much care. And the name is Barb."
"Let me get that door for you, Barb."
The moment I started walking I became Barb. There would be no calls of cut here. I could not break character for a moment.
I walked confidently into the building, and then stopped for a moment as if looking around.
Act a little startled that there are so many people. . .yes, receptionist there. Notice her and walk up.
These were the thoughts that I had as I stood there, and these sorts of thoughts continued as I went through this meat market of the stars.
If the receptionist was the same woman as I'd spoken to on the phone then I'd horribly misjudged her. She had the wiry gray hair, but her face was almost unlined and she would have hardly been out of place amidst the rest of us lovelies.
I walked up to her stopped for a moment waiting for her to notice me, and then cleared my throat softly.
She looked up, and then did a double take. "Hi," I said with what I hoped was a blinding smile, "I'm Barbara Scott? I had an appointment for an audition?"
"Hi, Barbara. I actually thought you were pranking me and were actually a drunk man."
I blushed at that, as it was both in character and I really was a bit embarrassed.
"Well, hey, people tell me that I sound like a fat old woman over the phone. I think you out-did me for difference in appearance between impression and actuality.
"I was quite drunk, I'm sorry to say."
"Well, you're here. I have to say you sound quite a bit better now as well."
"One day sober. Think I might actually quit this time."
That's too bad because I wanted to ask you out for a drink after you get through."
My mouth dropped open a little.
"All the hot ones are hetero. Mores the pity. If you're ever curious. . .well, this is what's called a cattle cal, sweetie. Mostly their just going to want you to get up there and look pretty, but you've got that in spades, hun. They might want you to say something. If they do they'll ask you a question. Think of it pageant and realize that sometimes 'world peace' is the best answer. Better to look inscrutable than stupid."
I'd never had anyone help me this much at a cattle call before.
She must have seen my confusion and misread it, thankfully, because she continued. "Hey, don't worry, hun. You'll do fine. Just try not to make everything a question, okay?"
"Okay. Thanks for the help."
"You're welcome. Good luck, Barbara."
"I prefer Barb."
"Good luck, Barb. Heat through the door right there and get in line. They'll give you a number as you get closer."
I was about to step away when I stopped and turned back toward her. "Look, I wasn't shocked because of being hetero and propositioned. I was shocked because my girlfriend died recently and I'm just not used to being out without her. I'm not even sure if I'm attracted to guys, but I figured I'm an actress and I might as well get back to work."
"I've seen some of your work haven't I?"
Crap, why didn't I just give my name as Dawn Leary.
"And here I thought you were new to all this. You're good. You're really good. Probably a good thing you didn't give me your real name." She was cackling a bit as she thought over what I'd just pulled on her.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Joyce. Why do you ask?"
"I'll join you after this for that drink, as long as you neither expect me to drink nor do anything other than talk?"
"Sounds good to me, Barb. Come see me after you get done."
"See you later, Joyce," I said and headed toward the stage door.
I have to say that I felt sorry for everyone else the moment I stepped through the door. Not a single one of them had even close to the same preparation as I'd had. Most of them had thrown some little black dress from the dark recesses of their closet with their best three year old makeup and a scrunchie in their hair.
There were a few that showed preparation and a salon hairstyle.
There was only one other girl who I was worried about. That was because I could tell that she'd had professional help for today's meeting as well.
She was also the only other girl here who wore a backless dress. Hers was red though.
I tried to ignore her as we wound our way back and forth through the studio. I looked hard, trying to see if there were any other cross-dressers. If there were, then they passed as easily as I did.
I kept looking over at the girl in red. She was going to make it. I was sure of that. I only wish I was a bit closer to her so I could size up my competition.
She was relaxed and confident.
After she got on stage, there was a lot less for me to do as I waited for my turn on stage.
While the other girls were watching their competition, I did what I always did. I watched the judges. No matter what you call them, when you're at an audition you are being judged. The secretary, or receptionist, or whatever had given me some key pieces of information as well.
I read their body language, watch what they responded too. I had most of what I needed on my body. The rest would have to be my act.
Even as I'd been watching the woman in red, part of my attention was split to see how the judges reacted to the things the other girls said.
When I finally got ten people away from the stage a tech hand approached me.
"You'll be 496."
"Thanks!"
"Don't mention it."
It was a short wait after that until I got on stage as each of the girls only stayed on stage for thirty seconds to a minute.
"Next."
And I was up.
"Wow, there's a lot of you out there."
And then I flashed my smile. That smile would come to be one of the biggest draws that they had for the show. She used it in all of their promotions, and in the opening montage.
"Ok, so 469, You're trying out for a show called the Real Prince Charming. Basically, what we're looking for is girls who look good on screen but also come across as being genuine. This is more than just a pairing contest, though. There will be sixteen men as well as sixteen women. Only one of these men is the catch he appears to be, and it will be through the choices the women make that will slowly eliminate the women. The fake princes will be eliminated based upon their performance in contests held every couple of days.
"How would you determine who the real prince charming was amongst so many?"
"Whether or not a man is a good catch is not about his appearance or the size of his wallet. It's about who he is as a person and how he treats others when he doesn't believe he is being watched. I would need to talk to him one on one, and listen to what the other girls thought of the matches."
"Anything else?"
Think fast, they're bored. . .
"You can tell a lot about a man by the way he kisses you, and how he treats you when you decline a kiss."
"Thank you 469, you may go."
That perked up their interest. It would also get me the nickname of the Ice Queen. I'll get to the full reason why later, as it has its place in this story.
I was headed toward the back entrance when I was stopped by one of the omnipresent techs and given an envelope.
I waited 'til I got outside before I opened the envelope.
You have passed through to the second stage of auditions. Please be here no later than eight am on Monday morning the 14th of August. We would request that all ladies seriously considering this role arrive in evening wear.
The first step was down. I had five days to get prepared for the next step. I walked back to the front of the building where Karl was still sitting, I rapped on his window and he rolled it down.
"I've been asked out for drinks."
"You got picked up at a cattle call? He must have been kind of desperate."
"She, actually. Receptionist."
"Well, be careful."
"I will. By the way, were on to stage two."
He smiled hugely. "I'll let the gang know. So, what time tomorrow should we all gather for our war council?"
"I think we can get started at seven or eight."
"Not planning on going home with the lady?"
"She's old enough to be my grandmother."
He laughed at this and drove off.
I settled my dress and then walked back into the office. The girls were all in the studio and it was quiet. Joyce looked up and smiled as I answered.
"They already let me know. Congratulations, Barb."
"So, are you ready to go?"
"Wow, you are so different than you seemed when you came in. I can totally believe that you are a lesbian."
"Yes, I am. I was actually married. Didn't want to voice that with everyone else here."
"She was the one who died, huh?"
"Yeah. I vowed never to love another woman as long as I lived when I married her."
"Oh, sweetie. Come on. Let's go someplace else. I'll drink and you can talk about it."
We got in her car and she drove us to a local club. Not a dance club, thank goodness, but a club none the less.
I appreciated the subdued air inside as we entered. Looking around the place at the other patrons, I realized I was the only man there. I should have expected this.
"So, tell me. If were at least going to be friends, what's your real name."
"Dawn Leary."
"That sounds. . .oh no. Really? There's no way they're not going to know you."
"I've only been in one film, Joyce."
"But what a film. You know that I've been looking for you for three years?"
"What?"
"Mark has had roles that he wants you in every time that he produces a new movie. He keeps telling me that you've got star quality. I've got to tell him this."
"Oh please, don't. I need this work."
"But you could have any role in this town you want."
"No, I can't. This is my last. . .I need this Joyce."
She looked at me for a moment, and then a look of horror came over her face.
"You were committing suicide when you called me, weren't you."
I felt naked before her, "how did you know?"
"You're too desperate for a bad role, especially with how good you are."
"I'm really not that good."
"You really are."
I knew it would probably destroy my chances of ever getting on this show, but for some reason I needed this woman to understand.
"I was born Donni Aldeman. My screen name is Donnie Leary. I'm a man, Joyce."
She began laughing. "Well, that explains why I could never find Dawn. I was looking for the wrong Leary."
"I'll go now. Sorry for all this."
"Dawn, you may be many things, but you're no man. Male, maybe, and I'd have to see proof before I believed that, but there's no way you're a man. There is no way a man made it to the next stage of this audition. Unless you are a truly great actor, and if you're the same Donnie Leary I'm thinking of, you are not a great actor."
She realized what she said, stopped, and got a thoughtful look on her face. "No, it's not that you're a bad actor. You're just horrible at acting like a man."
I giggled at this.
"See, that wasn't forced. Dawn, this is you. This hair, and makeup. This dress. I'm sorry it took such tragedy to really bring this out, but this is the real you."
"Well, putting the breast appliance back on did feel like coming home."
"Those aren't you? That is some of the best special effects makeup I've ever seen."
"Go ahead. I know you want to. I don't mind."
I felt the pressure when she poked them, and then touched them. She looked amazed.
"Touching them I can tell that they aren't quite skin, but that's makeup for you. But through your dress? They move like they should."
"I have an excellent friend in the field."
"Dawn. I'm going to do something for you that I would never consider for anyone else. I don't even know why I'm doing this. I'm going to not tell anyone your secret. Just promise me something. If you ever decide you can move on, please keep me in mind."
I looked at her shocked.
"But, I'm. . ."
"A beautiful and genuine woman, and one of the most talented actresses I've ever seen."
I smiled at her and said, "thank you."
We made an early night of it and I went home spent emotionally. It was funny, but I think the reason I didn't want to think about "Love's Sunset," and the reason that Aimee had been so pissed about it, was that I knew what Joyce had told me already.
Not consciously, but somewhere deep where I refused to let it out into the light of day.
Let's be serious. She was right about my career as Donnie. The only movies I did any good at were "Transexual" and "Love's Sunset."
They were the only two movies for which I didn't first have to put on a male persona.
She drove me home. I went up to my room and cried. Not tears of pain or loss. Tears of joy and self discovery. I WAS a woman. I wanted to shout it from the housetops and scream it on the streets.
The first step of proving it was winning this contest.
I decided to spend part of the night watching my two movies. I decided in that moment that until the end of this contest, I WAS Dawn or Barb. Donnie died on Monday. So, I watched "The Transsexual Stalker" first. My portrayal of that character carried the show through buckets of blood and cheesy lines. It is so bad all things considered, but I wasn't embarrassed that I was in it.
Then I watched "Love's Sunset" for the first time. I hadn't had the courage to watch it before that moment because I was afraid of what I would see. I saw it when I watched. I cried at the end.
I did not see a man in a dress on that screen. I saw an actress who believed in her lines.
I watched it again.
I was very bleary eyed when I arrived at Washed Out Bridge the next morning.
"I take it your date went about how I expected. What did she think about your extra equipment."
"Actually, Karl, I watched 'Love's Sunset'."
Ilene had just stepped into the workshop, "what!? I thought you said you never planned on watching that movie."
"Donnie never did watch that movie."
"What are you talking about?"
"If I'm doing this, Karl. I'm doing it completely. I am Dawn Leary, who I might add is apparently a sought after actress."
"What are you talking about, Dawn?"
"Mark Shurtleff, the producer of this TV show, has been trying to track Dawn down for the past three years."
"Does he know?"
"No, and I doubt he'll put it together. My character in the movie had curly red hair after all. I'm a straight brunette."
"There's a question. How straight are you, Dawn?"
"Enough to get turned on while filming the love scene in 'Love's Sunset.'"
They looked at me. I blushed. "I was wearing shorts under that dress. Very tight shorts."
"So what next?"
"Well, he asked me out afterward and wanted to know if I wanted to finish him off. I left him very frustrated. . .oh you meant today!"
I blushed very red at that, and couldn't speak for almost five minutes while they laughed.
Suddenly Ilene sobered up. "You didn't did you?"
"Of course not. I was married and I told him so."
Ilene was visibly relieved, "good, cause I'd have had to kill you for cheating on Aimee."
"Ilene, you've seen the movie?"
She nodded.
"Imagine that was you on the receiving end of that scene, even if you were wearing shorts."
She blushed bright red.
"My co-star had a serious crush on me, and was trying to use that moment to let me know how much. For a moment there everything but his need for me disappeared."
"No wonder Aimee was so pissed."
"No, she was pissed because of what she didn't see in that movie, Ilene."
"What?"
"A man in a dress."
"Oh. . .OH. Crap. Yeah, that would have pissed me off too."
Karl looked blankly at us.
"Just a little girl talk."
"But he's a guy!"
"No, honey, she's not. That is what this is about."
"You mean. . .dayum. You weren't kidding about Donnie being dead, huh?"
"No, I wasn't. I'm thinking that I need to go through some laser hair removal or electrolysis before this all begins. Waxing might work before, but during I need to be hair free on my face and chest."
"And if we start now then we'll have a better change of it taking. So, when is the next audition?"
"Monday."
"Four days before we have to have you presentable. I know. You're already drop dead gorgeous
"I've been thinking, Karl."
"What about?"
"Win or loose, I'm not going back to being Donnie, and I am pretty sure I can get more, and better, work as Dawn than I ever could as Donnie. What I'm saying is that I'm hiring Washed Out Bridge for the duration of the contest. If I don't make it in, then I don't and you still get the full amount. If I do, then you're work will be cut out for you."
"Full amount of what?"
"The $81,292.43 in my bank account. It's your inheritance from Donnie. He considered you to be one of his best friends, and I only hope that we can be friends as well."
Karl wrapped me in a hug, and after getting a nod from Ilene I tentatively gave him a hug back.
"I'm so glad to finally meet you, Dawn. Ilene and Donnie have told me a lot about you."
"So, you're the boss, Karl. What's the next step?"
The next step, apparently, was to get me an appointment for laser hair removal in about two weeks. If I didn't have enough hair growth at that point, then we'd have to push it back, but it was a good probability that I would. Hair apparently doesn't need to be that long for laser hair removal to be effective.
Since I'd signed over a check for the full amount in my account, and would be closing it as soon as Karl got funds confirmed, he would be paying for everything from here on out.
I felt so much like the eighteen year old I supposedly was.
So, since it was Thursday, and I had until Monday before I had to go in for my second audition, that and we really didn't begin prep for that 'til Sunday, I'll take a moment and tell you what seconds skin is.
I know. I'm so evil, making you wait in a story over which I have complete control over time.
I could simply say they lived happily ever after and end it here you know. . .
No?
Ok, second skin.
Strangely enough, it actually started life as a medical product. It was also a mistake.
I'm sure you've all heard of Liquid Bandage? It is a great product in most circumstances, but a couple of doctors wanted to create something that would act like real skin, even breath, that would be applied directly to the wound and would gradually flake off like natural skin, never needing to be checked or touched up.
What they created had all the properties they needed but one.
It would not adhere to skin.
It could however be molded much like silicone.
They initially tried to use it as a prosthetic for women after a mastectomy.
The problem was that it was designed to slowly degrade due to environmental interaction. Who wanted to pay $4000 for something that would last, on average, six months before it became too ragged to be of real use.
They tried to marked it to the special effects industry due to its life like properties, but again, a price tag problem appears. The cost is about 10,000 to 1.
But, Karl being Karl, he'd seen to potential for it. Real potential.
Foam Rubber doesn't look like skin no matter how well you paint it. It doesn't look bad, however in low like or at odd angles. It also has the advantage of being lightweight.
Silicone is translucent like real skin, can be easily pre-dyed to look the proper skin tone, and has the general resilience of fatty tissue making it great for consumer use in products like breast forms and implants. However, silicone used in special effects is heavier than an equal mass of skin, and it tends to pull apart under its own weight given enough time, especially with very large appliances. It also tends to shine in the wrong lighting conditions.
Enter second skin. Karl was pragmatic enough to realize that if it caught on, it would drop in price, especially when generics began to appear on the market.
It was lightweight, compared to silicone, looked like skin under all lighting conditions, was easily dyed to skin tones, and even felt like real skin to the touch.
The last was what really sold me on it.
Did I say that I wasn't doing any prep before Sunday?
I lied.
He pulled out the first second skin appliance from the mold that Thursday afternoon. It was emotionally painful to have my breasts removed.
I know they weren't really mine, and they were really looking ragged before they were removed, but they felt like mine.
All concern to be losing them disappeared when he applied the new ones to my chest.
I overlooked the problems with silicone while the other forms were on my chest.
No makeup was needed to blend these in. As soon as he lay down the edges only a slight bump showed the edge was there. It was a very slight bump and I kept loosing it as I moved in the mirror.
"Dawn, put your braw and shirt on please."
"What's wrong?"
"I know they're not real and I'm getting a hardon."
I blushed and covered up.
"I've never before been so convinced that what I'm seeing is real. I used my strongest adhesive, and I want to see how long it lasts under active use."
"Um, how active, Karl?" I asked, blushing furiously.
"Oh, hell no. Not that. I was thinking the treadmill."
I breathed a sigh of relief and walked over to the treadmill. They had me running on the treadmill for about half an hour. I did most of it alone as Karl and Ilene had to go deal with something in the other room.
I think it was because I was running in nothing but a bra on top. My chest was sore by the time I stopped, and I simply couldn't run anymore. I'd never really been that fit before, and I really wasn't used to all the bouncing around.
Karl checked the edges. He was getting really uncomfortable before he got dune.
"Karl! You've worked on naked women before. Don't think of me as a woman. Don't think of me as pretty or gorgeous. Just do whatever you do to get through working on one of them."
Karl took a deep breath and then smiled up at me.
"I think I needed that, Dawn. You're right. I do this for a living. I just expect to see less flesh as soon as I apply a prosthetic. That's how I usually get through it. I cover their nakedness. This time I created the nakedness and it was freaking me out."
"We'll get through this, Karl."
"Go hit the showers."
"What about the girls?"
"I want to test the water resistance in a shower, then we're going for complete submersion."
"What aren't you telling me?"
Karl smiled evilly at me, "I used Permanence on you."
"Shit, man, I told you to throw that out the LAST time you used it."
I was really freaking out now.
Ok, I realize now that I forgot a VERY important thing about Karl Romano. He is properly Dr. Karl Romano with a PhD of Analytical Chemistry. He finished his dissertation and decided that he didn't want to be a scientist any more.
He applied his knowledge of chemical processes to special effects, developing his own paints, tints and adhesives.
Especially adhesives.
Now, no useful adhesives that you can use on human skin can really be water proof. Something about the nature of the surface you are adhering it to makes it so that if it's not going to irritate the skin it's going to dissolve in water.
Either that or its actual length of hold is measured in minutes.
That is unless you use Permanence.
The first and only time he used it was "Catastrophic Failure."
My fourth dorsal tentacle tore off during one of the fight scenes, I don't remember which one. What I do remember is that we had to halt production for two days while I spent a lot of time in a hot tub trying to get the nub to come off.
As far as I could tell at the time it is only partially water soluble, and we had no idea how long it would hold.
I'd been the one who nicknamed it Permanence.
"I thought you threw it out."
"I did throw that batch out. Doesn't mean I couldn't remake it."
So, I went and took a shower, making sure to scrub my breasts. They would have been raw and red had they been real, and my chest underneath was even a little sore.
Damn, what was this stuff. Somehow the second skin was a little pinker from the scrubbing, but that quickly faded as they dried. Sure, it wasn't a normal capillary response like I got from my own skin, but it did react just a little.
I put on clean underwear and went out to find Karl so he could check out his handiwork.
He still couldn't lift up the edges.
"So, how are we planning on testing immersion?"
Ilene handed me the cutest bikini.
"Oh, no. Not a good idea."
"Why not. I take my creations to the pool all the time."
"I'm worried about the bottoms."
Ilene just gestured for me to put them on. I took off the panties, leaving the super gaffe in place and then slipped up the bikini bottoms.
They covered everything. Wow, that was so cool.
I slipped off the bra and put on the bikini top. Karl turned around while I was changing and I snickered.
"Dawn, you need to be nicer to my husband, girl. Even I'm not that casual about changing in front of him."
"You've also never run around completely naked except for stage blood in front of an entire production crew."
She looked at me shocked.
"You never saw 'Sorority House Murders III' did you?"
"Oh, wow. Yeah, I never really thought about what the set experience for that would be."
I tossed a tee shirt and shorts on top of my bikini and we headed out.
Well, we headed out to Karl's car, again with me in the backseat. I realized for the first time since I started wearing this outfit that I hadn't thought about my crushed jewels once. Sure, I knew they were there when I thought about it, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as I thought it'd be.
So, we went swimming. It took about four hours, but the edges began to pull away a little bit. Just the tiniest bit, but it was visible. By that point I was completely pruned out and wanting to go home.
Sunday. We went shopping in Aimee's closet, in the warehouse, everywhere till we found the perfect dress.
It even had a matching pair of velvet gloves. Did I mention that it was a crushed velvet dress?
It was a green so deep that it almost seemed black most of the time. It was another shoulder less number, but this time it had a plunging neckline and a full back. It had a full skirt that fell all the way to the floor even with me in three inch heels.
We decided to have me up by three am to begin my hair and makeup, so I got an early night of it while Karl and Ilene rallied the troups.
I'd been out of work for six months, and I wasn't really wearing anything you would call makeup in my line of work for 'Huguenot,' but three am still wasn't difficult for me. Most of my adult life had been spent on the sets of movies where I wore a lot of special effects makeup.
Three am wakeup calls are a normal part of that. They want a full day of shooting, which means the three to six hours of makeup has to start before a normal days work. Before anyone else arrive, Karl carefully removed my breasts. He'd hired a dermatologist for the next part, as he wanted a medical opinion of the effects of Permanence.
The dermatologist was a short swarthy man with a pronounced Spanish accent. Castilian due to the slight lisp. "Call me doctor Garza. Let us see. . .Dawn?"
"Yes, Dr. Garza"
"Well, let us have a look at your skin, yes?"
"Thank you, Dr. Garza."
He poked and prodded a bit. Then he took a scraping of my skin. He poked some more. Pinched me a little.
"I will do some tests upon this sample, okay? But seems good to me."
"Thank you for coming in, Dr. Garza," Karl said and Ilene showed him to the door.
"Well, I'm thinking that we might be able to get about five days before Permanence really starts breaking down. We need to touch up the edges after any serious time in the pool or a bath, but other than that. . ."
I began to smile a little smile, "second skin with new Permanence. The next best thing to reality."
"Yeah, now we just need to make commercials," Ilene said with a giggle as she returned.
Karl reapplied my breasts, and then we put the gaffe back on. Looking at me in my underwear Karl got a bit of a glazed over look.
"Ilene, honey, could you get me a dressing robe? I seem to have broken your husband. Sorry."
"No, it's not that. Um. I need another life cast of you, Dawn."
"Another? Don't we have enough as it is?"
"No, I have an idea for something that. . .I need to make some mockups, and then we need the life cast. No time right now, but I'll tell you when we do the life cast. If they give us time this evening, we'll get it them. Otherwise, you get to be patient. Don't really want to get your hopes up unless it really seems like it'll pan out."
I sighed, but I was truly happy. Well, not truly happy. It was a bitter sweet moment. I knew that my wife was dead. I mourned her loss. At the same time, I was able to move on with my life because I finally realized where my life should have been going all along.
I was sad that I couldn't share this with Aimee. Sad that we couldn't have worked something out. I was happy that I could show the world the woman I longed to be.
No, that's not quite right. Show them the woman I was.
The makeup and hair people descended upon me. Some of them I remembered from "Love's Sunset." Some of them were new to me. All of them loved what we were pulling over on the 'reality people.'
None of them knew I was physically male.
First it was my makeup and hair. They piled my hair up on top of my head, leaving a couple of locks to frame my face. They spent quite a while on my face.
"Dear, how did you get to this age without ever piercing your ears?"
I blushed, "I was in tomboy mode. Figured I'd get them caught on something."
"You could have always taken them out to play sports."
"Never thought to do that."
"Well, if they have us back in I'm bringing my gun."
"Okay. Sounds god to me."
After finishing with my face, they got my hands and feet. They did them both in ochre.
The sheathed me in my beautiful velvet dress, and slipped on the gloves. They helped me with the nylons and shoes. I could see my nails peeking out of the toe.
I caught view of myself in the full length mirror. I was a vision. I felt so sorry for everyone else in that moment. Not very sorry, but sorry none the less.
"Thank you all. We'll call you when we need you next." Karl said, and they filtered out.
That was at six am.
I spent the next hour trying to get used to walking in three inch heels. I was marginally successful. Which is to say I could walk about ten feet before I tripped over my own.
"Okay, dawn. You'll have to practice a bit later, cause for now, the two of us have to get to the studio."
"Thanks, Karl, for the vote of confidence, and while we're out, I'm Barbara."
He smiled at that. He helped me into the back seat again, and handed me the rest of my dress after I was seated. I felt so luxurious sitting there in that dress, and the feel of the fabric on my bare biceps was truly nice.
We pulled up at the studio and Karl helped me out of the car.
"Thank you, Karl."
"Welcome, Barbara. Knock 'em dead, dear. Break a leg."
"On these stilts? Very good possibility."
I was walking to the door and tripped over my own feet again. I felt an arm catch me before I could collide with the earth and break some of the work that we had gone through so much trouble to complete.
"You okay, miss?"
"Sorry, it's these stilts I'm in. I loved the dress, and just couldn't bring myself to take it in, so that meant I had to have these shoes."
I pulled up my dress a but so he could see my foot.
"Very pretty feet, miss."
"Barbara. And thank you so much for preventing me from making a bigger fool of myself than I already have."
"Sean. Can I offer you my arm, then? It will make it easier for me since I won't have to leap to your rescue again."
"Why thank you, kind sir. I much appreciate it. You have a slight accent. Where are you from?"
"Small country in Europe. We only regained out independence in the last twenty years, so you might not have heard of us."
"I hear a bit of. . .Polish, possibly another Slavic language."
"Serbian."
"Well, my Serbian friend, just get me in there in one piece and I shall be eternally grateful."
We were getting inside, and something occurred to me.
"Sean isn't a Serbian name."
He held the door for me, and I slipped inside, then he joined me and offered his arm to me again.
"No, my name is Sergei Anatoleyevich Mirov. Unfortunately my normal nickname is Sasha which is a girl's name in America. I decided that Sean was close enough."
"Sasha is a nickname for Sergei? That's. . ."
"Very Russian."
"That's an apt description for it."
He smiled at me and for a moment my heart stopped. He helped me into the studio and I took my place with the other girls. I showed them my engraved invitation, and the tech people smiled at me.
There were a number of men in the room with us as well.
"Okay, we're looking for beautiful people for this. First cuts are now, please smile if asked."
Two men and three women walked among us, examining our makeup and dresses. A number of girls and a few boys were asked to leave. The boys that were asked to leave were wearing two pant suits, or blazers. Basically they simply did not get the concept of dressing well.
Two of the girls have visible wrinkles through their makeup. Another had a skirt and blouse.
Then it was the hard decisions. Bad coordination of shoes and dress. Bad choice in makeup colors. Plastic nail extensions.
Then all five of them were hovering around me and I did the only thing I could do. I smiled.
They moved on after that, but one of the women hung back while the others walked on. "Get your ears pierced, dear. Your smile is the only thing that just saved you."
There were only thirty women and about a hundred men left after that.
"For this next part ladies, and gentlemen, we'd like you to mingle a bit."
So, we mingled. Sean latched onto me and lead me from group to group. He'd leave me there and go talk to other people, but he was my knight for the duration. Every time they called switch he was there with his arm.
I felt a couple of jealous stares from the other women, because Sean was quite handsome, but I ignored them.
I was getting much more adept at walking in the heels as the time wore on, even as my feet grew more sore.
Slowly they pared us down until there were only five women and five men left. The woman who'd worn the backless red dress on Wednesday was still with us. Sean had also made the cut.
"Thank you, ladies and gentleman. We'll have the ladies back here in four months time to make a final determination for our primary sixteen."
"Gentleman, we'll have you back a week after the ladies."
"We begin shooting in six months time. Ladies, Gentlemen, even if you aren't a primary, we'll need you to clear your schedules as you will be an alternate. Welcome to The Real Prince Charming."
I have to admit I squealed, but I wasn't the only one. there was general laughter and we broke up and went our separate ways. They gave us the date that we needed to be back for last looks as we say in the special effects business.
I was out to Karl's car before I knew it, and as soon a I was seated in back, I took off the torture devices that are jokingly called shoes.
"How'd it go?"
"Well, I need my ears pierced, and not having them so already almost cost me a spot."
"You're in?"
"We're in. Let's get back to Washed Out Bridge so we can plan."
"Well, I've done some of the sketches I needed while I waited, and I think I might actually be able to pull this off."
"Pull what off?"
He just smiled in his mirror at me while we drove back to the workshop.
When we got there, he started on a life cast, of my posterior of all things. It was cold, and really slimy. It was also one of the more uncomfortable experiences I'd been through. The claustrophobia of getting your face molded was the worst. This was just slightly less. And he wanted me to do two poses. One with my legs splayed, and one with my legs in a more classic mannequin position.
I was beginning to get an inkling of what he was planning, but like he said earlier, I really didn't want to get my hopes up.
It would probably beat a gaffe, anyway.
It took him two days to get the lifecast done. Then began the swearing as one after another appliances failed. Ilene and I spent a lot of time through this period bonding.
That means we were out of the workshop and shopping. More specifically she was shopping, and I was spending time with her. She had me try on lots of clothing, and we began to get a good idea of what looked good on me, and what didn't.
About a week after the lifecasts were made, we were just coming out of an American Eagle store when we ran into Julia.
"Ilene, I haven't seen you since the funeral. You've been busy I hear with a new production of some sort."
"Julia! You're looking good."
"Thank you, and you're avoiding the question."
"Well, that's because it's all very hush hush."
"Who is your new friend?"
"Hi, I'm Dawn."
"You look familiar to me."
"I was in a movie a couple of years ago. 'Love's Sunset?'"
"That was you? I wondered where you'd gotten off to. I thought that you were going places, and then you simply disappear for three years."
"I had someone near to me die and I wasn't ready to go back out into the world."
"Sorry to hear that, Dawn. Say, I'd love to introduce you around. . .what?"
"Dawn's part of that secret project we're working on. Don't want to let too much go, but she can't be seen by the normal crowd, if you know what I mean. Part of the whole nature of it requires that she be incognito."
"Not another one of those pseudo reality TV shows is it, where they get actors to pretend they're on a reality TV show?"
"None of those have been 100% confirmed. . ."
"Julia, I've heard some things about you, and one of them was that you keep a secret."
"How would you. . ."
"Well, not many people know this, but Donnie Leary is my brother. He sort of wanted to keep me out of the spotlight, but Aimee convinced me to try out for 'Love's Sunset.' It really pissed him off, and that's part of the reason I wasn't allowed to try out."
"I thought you said. . ."
"Ilene doesn't think I should mention Donnie. He's missing."
"Missing? Have you phoned the police?"
"Yes, but they told us that as he's an adult he probably just ran away from his life. It apparently happens."
And was one of the more popular bad script devices used in a lot of movies you've never heard of but I've read for. Adult male runs from his life only to be thrust into one of: A mystery, a horrible tragedy, an axe murderers path, and alternate dimension, some of the above or all of the above.
They invariably get relegated to episodes of mid-day soap operas.
"You don't think he might have. . ."
Crying on queue is an art form. I needed it as a child actor, and it didn't fail me now. Especially since while it was fake when I started, it wasn't by the time I was cried out. I finally mourned Aimee. I mourned Donnie as well.
Julia and Ilene helped me to a bench and I sat down as they surrounded me with love from both sides.
"Thank you both, but I really think I need to go fix my makeup now. I must look a complete mess."
We got into the bathroom, and my makeup was a complete write off. Luckily I'd been practicing regular makeup over the past week, so I was able to reapply my makeup without giving myself away to Julia.
Looking at me, Julia got a thoughtful expression. "I always thought that Donnie was an only child."
"Yeah, that's what his Bio said. He wanted to keep me out of the spotlight. Hogging it all to himself I think."
"Yeah, that sounds like Donnie to me."
"Also, you may have noticed I'm a better actor than he is."
"The term is actress, Dawn."
"The term actor is an accepted gender neutral term, with the term actress applied in situations where specific gender is required. In this case, as I was referring to people of mixed gender, using the more neutral of the two terms seemed more appropriate."
"Wow, there's something else you have that Donnie never did, Dawn."
"What's that, Julia?" I asked, genuinely curios how I was different from myself.
"Donnie wouldn't argue about anything. It used to really frustrate Aimee. She wanted him to take a stand and man up once in a while. You are more man than he was, it seems."
"Thanks, I think."
All three of us giggled at my response.
We finished up our war paint, and made our way back to the mall proper before Julia spoke again, beyond random banter.
"so, what was the big secret you want me to keep."
"Oh, I'm crashing the set of a reality TV show using a full makeup and wardrobe team. Consultants, the works."
"What?" her eyes shone, "Need any waxing for this? Other salon treatments?"
"We're actually opting for laser hair removal, or we would be happy to visit you."
"I swear I lose more business to that alone."
"Well, I'm sure that you're great at your job."
"Believe me, Dawn, she's one of the best."
'Well, if I have a relapse, hair wise, I know who to visit."
Julia smiled at this.
We visited the food court for some suitably fattening food after our workout in the cramped stalls of the changing rooms. I swear that you almost have to be a contortionist in some of these places to get changed.
We hugged after we ate.
"It's been nice meeting you, Dawn. We'll have to do this again sometime."
"I'd like that, Julia. Well, back to the grind stone."
"What are you working on?"
"Posture, diction, and makeup. A bit of self hair styling as well. I'm learning tips from some of the best."
"Well, if what you did today is any indication, then you're well on your way to being a pro. I've seen professionals do a worse job than this."
I blushed at her comment, "Thank you."
We did the air kisses and then Ilene and I were off to the workshop.
We came home to a triumphantly smiling Karl.
"I was over thinking it. I assumed that I'd have to keep the whole thing insanely thin to work, but when I did that, it became obvious that there was. . .something. . .behind it.
"The thing is, I didn't need to have it super thin, just blended."
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Karl."
"Then let me try it on you, and we'll go from there."
"Okay. . ."
"I need you to strip from the waist down."
I did so.
"Ok, I need you to squat a bit. I made two of them, and we're going to try some more regular adhesive with both of them. See which one has a more natural look. I've never needed to do this before."
I won't go into all of the technical details, but needless to say there was a Texas catheter involved.
He glued everything down, and had me walk over to the mirror. There was something a little off about the whole thing, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.
Ilene came and stood next to me.
"I think you sculpted too much labia into this one, Karl."
"I was a bit afraid of that. It was the strange body position. I tried to compensate, but it looks like it was too much compensation."
He removed it. He had me lay down on the table to get the next one in place. It was much more snug. That's the only way I can describe it.
Individually punched hair. Perfect match to my flesh tone. It looked natural, and I could feel the pressure of my penis trying to push against the appliance. I didn't see any change outwardly to reflect this.
I had a vagina. A cosmetic one, sure, but a vagina none the less.
"Wow," was all Ilene could say.
"Ilene, could you see me in the office for a moment. Dawn, get dressed."
I giggled as the two of them walked off, but I got my clothing on anyway. I was able to forgo the gaffe.
I filled it out completely differently than I had even with the super gaffe that Ilene had used. It was. . .natural this look. I felt myself tearing up, so I quickly got my skirt back on and sat there waiting for the two lovebirds.
Of course now that I think on it, calling them love rabbits would be better if it didn't sound so corny.
While I was waiting, I began to realize that I had to use the restroom. Badly. From what he'd been telling me, this wasn't supposed to be a problem.
So, I went in and used the facilities. I don't know why I felt a sense of satisfaction that everything worked the way that Karl had planned, but wiping off the appliance gave me a sense of accomplishment for some reason.
When Karl came back, after a lot longer than I'd thought it would take him, I was less than patiently waiting to tell him the news.
"Well, it seems to be functional. Well, as functional as you wished to make it."
"Glad to hear. So, you ready to get it stuck into some Permanence?"
"Of course, and now comes the real test. Let's go with them until the bond fails so we have an actual time table. Just record, don't fix."
"Great idea, Dawn. About the same thing I was about to say. We have seven days 'til your next laser hair removal appointment, so we should just have enough time, provided that my calculations are anything resembling correct."
So, for the next five days, twelve hours, fifteen minutes and nine seconds I wore the pieces of my body that were second skin.
It was wonderful, for the first day and a half, when everything was perfectly in place. I was the woman I was beginning to see myself as. Beautiful, confident, poised.
Then I slowly began to fall apart.
The crotch section of my girdle, as Karl began to call it, came off first at 3 days and about eighteen hours. The rest of it went not much after that. Apparently the tube developed a pinhole puncture and the urine ate away at the glue.
Karl assured me it wouldn't happen again. It was VERY nasty.
The breasts hung on for a lot longer. I lost my left one only twenty minutes before the right one. The right was the one that lasted the full time quoted.
The next day was my LHR appointment, so we didn't reapply, and I really was feeling miserable. We had what little hair had grown back zapped, and I impatiently waited for us to get back to the workshop so I could get back to being me.
The next four months went like that in cycles. A week of fixing edges, and practice on speed for Karl, and then a week to allow the bond to fail on its own.
The longer I wore it, the better than Karl got at getting it applied. It is also possible that as my follicles began to seal up it provided a better surface for the appliance.
By the end, we had to stop fixing the edges nine days before my appointment, as it would take eight days before the bond failed.
Two days before the big event, I got a phone call from Joyce.
"Dawn, honey, there's been a slight change in plans. Nothing major. They'd just like everyone to come in a swim suit. There's been a rumor going around that. . .look I didn't tell anyone, but someone says that one of the contestants is a transvestite."
"Joyce, don't worry. I've got it covered. Literally."
"Well, wear a g string bikini then, as that was been requested of all the girls still interested in being in the contest."
"Well, Karl, looks like you are a genius."
"Why do you say that?"
"I have to wear a string bikini to this now. They heard a rumor that a transvestite will be trying to attend."
There was general laughter at this. Both of them knew that I wasn't, technically, a transvestite.
I just realized I forgot to tell you one of the more important parts of this story. I know, you're all thinking I'm ditzy at this point. Anyway. About two months before the phone call, I woke up happy and ready to go. I met a serious Ilene and Karl on the workshop floor.
"Dawn, honey, Karl and I have been talking."
"No, it's mostly me, so let me tell her. I did some reading on the internet, Dawn. Mostly on medical websites. Some not so clinical. Well, there are options for you to really have a body like I've given you, but not before the contest. However, that's not such a bad thing."
"You're botching it, Karl."
"Think you can do better?"
"Yes. Dawn, you really feel yourself to be a woman, right?"
I nodded.
"You want for society to see you as one as well, and potentially get Gender Reassignment Surgery, right?"
"Yes, I would like that."
"Ok, then to do that, you need to speak to a licensed therapist. We have an appointment for you for tomorrow morning."
"But, that's not enough time. . ."
"You can go how you feel comfortable."
A light was beginning to dawn on me. Get it? Dawn?
Anyway, I was going en femme.
I dressed casually, but feminine, and once again Karl drove me. I sat up front this time thought.
The office was small, but comfortable. I walked up calmly to the receptionists desk. "Donnie Leary. I have an appointment with the doctor."
"Miss Leary, I know it's how you feel. I know it's not really my place, but I've never seen a more feminine female patient come in here than you. You really don't strike me as the usual woman who feels she was born with the wrong body. I usually try to mention this to the ones who will have the hardest time. . .fitting in."
I blushed. "That's because I was born a man."
Her eyes grew wide, and she looked me up and down, looking for telltale signs. "I had no idea. . .wow. I just had a name here, and assumed when you walked in. I think that I've been doing people a disservice. If someone can be as pretty as you, and born a man, then maybe there's hope for each of those that I talked to. They all turned me down, of course which is part of the reason I likely still have a job. . .
"You've given me a lot to think about, Ms. Leary."
"And you finally realize why I do what I do, Grace."
"You've known, Doctor?"
"My patients talk to me, Grace. If you persisted after they told you 'no', then I'd have fired you fifteen years ago. As it is, I appreciate the effort. It saves me asking the same question."
"But I'm not qualified as. . ."
"No, but you are a qualified outside opinion. The road that is taken by these poor souls is not the easiest. This is not their choice, any more than it was yours to be a woman."
"But I love being a woman."
"So do I, Grace," I said joining the conversation, "Are you ready for me then?"
The doctor nodded and I followed him into the room.
"So, Dawn, that's what you're going by right now?"
"Yes, that or Barbara, but Barbara is a role I'm playing."
"Oh, yes, and actor. How do I know this isn't just an act."
"Do you watch horror films, doctor?"
"Some."
"How about 'Sorority House Murders III' or. . .no that's the one you can most readily tell it's me."
"That was a bad movie with really horrible. . ."' he looked at me appraisingly, "oh. You were a man in that movie I assume?"
"Yes. Did you by any chance see 'Huguenot?'"
"Oh, you're THAT Donnie Leary."
"I'm also THAT Dawn Leary."
"I don't follow."
"'Love's Sunset.'"
His mouth dropped open. He was flabbergasted. I never thought I'd actually see someone who was flabbergasted in person. It is so much greater than regular shock.
"You acted that beautifully. How did you. . ." He was becoming a bit red.
"A VERY tight pair of shorts."
"Ok, so apparently, you have a hard time acting as a man, but you believably act as a woman. That doesn't resolve the issue at hand."
"Doesn't it? A wise person once told me that when I get up on stage as Donnie, I first have to pretend to be a man, and then try to act out my role.
"As Dawn, I simply am myself, and then act a role."
"Is that the way it feels to you?"
"It was so much easier acting as Dawn. I just got up there and recited my lines how I felt them. I never once had the director trying to get me to be more gruff, or domineering, or any of a number of words that he was using to tell me to act like a man."
"So you've thought a lot about this?"
"Not really," I said with a smile, "I'm sort of making it up as I go along. Not the things they said, but my realizations of why they said them. That and the different experience I had on set for 'Love's Sunset'."
"So, would you take more roles as a woman if given the chance?"
"Oh, definitely. I would love to be on screen again. I'd love to. . .fit. . .into my role like that again. Well, I could live with another role like 'Transsexual Stalker' I suppose, but the more I realize who I am, the more that movie bothers me."
"Actually, I'd like to thank you for playing that role. I forgot that it had been you, and you did almost as well in it as for your romance."
"Thank me? Why?"
"That movie actually prompted a number of my clients to seek help. They were afraid of following the path of self loathing that your character in the film followed."
"But, it is so. . ."
"Harsh? Sometimes that is what it takes to convince us we need to change. Dawn, it was a movie. We all know it was a movie. What resonates is our fear of rejection. Your character was rejected not only by her peers, but by the medical community on whom she depended for support. True, they'd likely not deny her surgery for her specific psychopathy, but I wasn't her doctor."
I laughed at that. I couldn't help it.
"You have one of the most beautiful smiles I've ever seen Dawn. We need to get you smiling more."
"Thank you, doctor."
"Well, I have some specific questions to ask you. Try to be as truthful as possible. . ."
He went back and forth like that for about an hour, and then he came to the end of his questions.
"Well, I'd normally like to see you for a few more visits before I made a pronouncement like this, but I have more experience with you than a single visit, don't I."
I nodded demurely.
"I will not be prescribing hormones for you, as I was informed by Karl that for up to a year he'd like it if your figure didn't change too much."
"That would definitely help."
"Well, you have a nice enough figure as it is, even if parts of it are fake. Truth be told, I can't specifically tell which parts those are."
"Thank you." I blushed.
"So, if you agree, I'd like you to begin your real life experience as of today. That will mean that you would be presenting yourself as female full time. Can you handle that?"
"Yes, doctor, I can."
"Then I would like to see you once a week, at least until filming starts. Then, call me if possible during filming, or we'll just resume after filming if it's not possible."
And that was it. My RLE was confirmed as beginning.
Back to the pool party.
I wore a sea-foam bikini, and made sure it was the microest of micro g strings. It was barely decent, and just barely covered my female bits. Well, the appliance that simulated my female bits.
I wore a white skirt and blouse over my bikini for modesty sake.
Karl helped me out of the car, and I was really beginning to feel like Cinderella. No one knew who I was. I was whisked to and from the ball in a carriage of dubious origin, sorry Karl, but you know your car is dubious, and I lost my high heeled shoes at every opportunity I got.
I'd gotten my ears pierced so the dangles I had on tonight showed my femininity to the world.
Unlike some choices in accessory that one of the girls wore.
She'd tried a flesh toned gaffe, but it was painfully obvious to the rest of us and she was asked to leave.
That left nineteen of us to fill sixteen spots.
We stood in a long line in the studio, and they kept coming back to me.
I was beginning to get a bit worried.
No one had been tapped out yet, and I was worried I'd be the first.
"Beautiful choice of earrings." I think that was the woman who'd whispered to me last time.
"Daring choice in bikini."
I held my tongue. There'd been no direct question.
"Firm tits and buttocks." One of the male judges said.
"What's your name dear?"
The first thing that came to mind was Dawn Leary, but I altered my thinking even before I opened my mouth.
"Barbara Scott." I flashed my smile at them again. I was proud of my name and my body, and my smile said it all.
"Well, Barb, you don't mind Barb do you?"
I scrunched my nose and shook my head, "I don't mind it."
"Then Barb, welcome. You're the first contestant picked for The Real Prince Charming. Linda will have an information packet for you at the door. We need you here in two months. Good luck."
I'd made it. I was a contestant. I was accepted as a woman.
To be honest, I'm not even sure which of those thoughts made me happier even now.
"Ilene! I got the part! I'm in."
My joy translated itself into my every movement, into my voice, and for a moment I even forgot that I wasn't even half dressed. Ilene came out from the back room and gave me a hug.
When I say hug, I mean she ran up to me and enveloped me in her arms.
"Let's celebrate!"
Ilene and I looked at Karl and just smile. I think a little giggle might have escaped my lips, but the rest of that evening is a bit of a blur.
Oh, before I forget again, something happened almost three months before this point. I know, it all seems so convoluted here sometimes, but that is the nature of my brain. I will be running along at full tilt, and suddenly realize that I forgot to put on my shoes.
Well, the analogy worked properly for me.
About a month after Dr. Garza came to see me, and checked my skin, and took samples, he came back to do another test.
"So, Dearest Dawn. How has your skin been holding up under your mishandling, hmm?'
"It is fine. No irritation from either the Permanence or the LHR."
"Good. Now, Let's get a look at you."
He checked my chest out completely, and for a moment, I found myself wishing, for some reason, that I could show him my real self. It wasn't that I was attracted to Dr. Garza, but he was a man, and I loved the effect that my body seemed to be having on Karl and I wanted to share the wealth.
This was the week after Karl had perfected the girdle.
"Well, nothing seems to be…"
"Doctor…you're going to have to check…um…"
"Spit it out, girl, nothing I haven't dealt with in the past, I'm sure."
"My genitals."
"Oh, I see. And you're uncomfortable with me being forced to see you as a man, is that it Dawn?"
I nodded, with a tear in my eye.
"How about this? If you let me take a quick look at this costume of yours from top to bottom, I'll wait in the back room while Karl puts you back together and then you can show me the real you."
My mouth dropped open.
"Dawn, my daughter went through something very much like what you're going through. Not exactly, I'm sure, since she was a bit broader in the shoulder than you, and over six five. She towers over her husband when she insists on wearing heels."
He got a distracted smile on his face. After a moment or two he shook his head and look directly at me.
"So, let's get to that examination, shall we?"
It was over almost as quickly s he said it, and then he went into the back to talk to Ilene while Karl put me back together.
"Dawn, could you please stop squirming."
"I'm sorry, I just can't help it."
"You never get this way with the prospect of me seeing you."
"That's because you created me. Well, in a sense. You know what I mean. You're like my father. Or maybe just an attentive older brother. He is not related to me, in this scene, at all. It get to play the 'ne' role for a stranger for the first time."
"Well, he'll get bored and leave if I can't get this on properly. I've had kids who didn't squirm as much as you."
I had to laugh at that. Karl was the lead makeup artist on "Zombids" I know, it's a horrible name. The tagline will help you understand a little better: When your children are zombies, no one is safe.
I wasn't actually part of the production, but Karl called me in because I could keep kids distracted with some of my really bad acting impersonations. Well, some of them apparently weren't bad, but the disconnect between a man pretending to be Grace Kelly or Marilynn Monroe or Kathryn Zeta Jones seemed to be too much for most people.
I usually only did my impressions for my friends.
"Ms. Leary? Can you do one of Angelina Jolie?"
The question shocked me so completely that my brain shut down for a moment. Karl had to break me out of my revere. "Ms. Leary. You had a request."
The kids weren't laughing at me, and in fact they thought I was a girl. This was before I ever got my role in Transsexual.
Now that I think about it, Karl was the one who convinced me to try out for Transsexual. At some point I really have to repay him for all of the things he's done for me over the years.
Regardless, I spend three hours doing impersonations of actresses to the rapt attention of thirteen kids. They weren't laughing at me, but all just smiled as I did my shtick.
Karl had me back in every morning. I got used to being called Ms Leary, and even felt a twinge of sadness when the movie finished. I said goodbye to my young friends.
It also started one of the more epic arguments I'd ever had with Aimee. I suggested that we have a kid. She didn't want anything to do with children. They would ruin her figure. She loved appearing nude on the screen, and wanted to keep that going for as long as possible. A child would not only ruin that for 9 months, but likely cause her breasts to prematurely sag.
In her words.
Anyway, this tangent has gone on long enough. I settled down a little, enough that Karl got the appliances on, and I put on a silk dressing gown. It was a pale green in silk, and it pissed me off no end when one of the other girls stole it. Well, that came after the show started.
It was translucent and left very little to the imagination. It was modest in only the broadest sense of the word.
"So, what do you think, Dr. Garza?"
"If I hadn't just been in here and seen you, well, I'd think this was some sort of trick. That mole there isn't makeup, is it? You're not Dawn's sister or anything?"
I smiled at him, demurely, and shook my head. Hey, I'm an ACTOR remember. I don't have to be demure to play it.
"Then I need to get back to my wife. It would be a shame for me to ruin what obviously took some work to perfect."
For the first time my eyes drifted down and I realized that I'd had a profound effect upon him. I walked slowly over to him, letting my hips sway a bit, and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
"You're too kind, Dr. Garza," I said and fluttered my lashes a bit at him.
He cleared his throat and made a hasty retreat at that point.
Ilene let out a hearty laugh as soon as the outer door slammed shut, and Karl just looked at me.
"You can be very bad when you want to be, Dawn," he said.
"Oh hush, Karl. He enjoyed that as much as I did."
"He looked embarrassed."
"Honey, he was flushed, not embarrassed. He was showing visible wood to two ladies he could not touch. That man is a swinger, or didn't you remember."
It was Karl's turn to flush, and then he and Ilene disappeared for about an hour.
I was fine with that. I was more than fine. Happy for them is the best way to describe how I felt, and a little sad that I couldn't share this with Aimee. She would have loved my new breasts.
Back to the partying.
The next morning, Karl pushed me off the sofa. "You have a phone call."
How could he be so chipper. From what I remember of the evening he was drinking two shots for every one that Ilene or I drank. My head pounded and all I wanted to do was sleep until November.
"The studio is on the line for you."
Crap. We'd set up a private line for Barbara, and I was the only one who was supposed to answer it.
"You didn't…"
"I did, and said it was your phone. Told them I was your brother."
"You're the best."
He handed me the phone and I did my best to sound awake.
"Hello?"
"You didn't party too hard, did you?"
"Sasha?"
"Sean, please."
"Sorry, I am somewhat out of it. My brother said you were the studio."
"They pulled us all in here two days ago. This is the first phone call I've been allowed to make. Each of the other sixteen guys are each making a call as well. I just lucked out to get you, Dawn."
"That's so sweet, Sasha…I mean Sean."
"Well, you're not going to think me sweet in a moment. You have only thirty minutes to get ready and out to the car that's already waiting for you. This is the first contest of The Real Prince Charming."
"Then, I'd better get going."
I hung up and jumped into lurching action.
"Karl, we've got thirty minutes to get my clothing together and get me home."
"Huh?"
"They start filming today, and apparently the girls have to do contests as well."
"Then let's get to it. Ilene!"
We'd already considered what I would be taking when everything started up, and even had my two, modest, bags packed. Well, let me be honest. I had three bags. To easily carried ones with my everyday clothing, toiletries, and six swim suits. One not so easy, closet sized garment bag for my dresses. I have no idea how we got twelve dresses in there, flat, no wrinkles, but we did.
Karl grabbed a small bottle of what looked like nail polish and tossed it in with my makeup. "That is a bottle of Permanence. Says so right on it. Since no one will yet know what Permanence is, it should be fine."
I kissed him on the cheek, and then we were off to make the ride over to my house. We parked in the back lot, I hurried through my apartment to the front, and right out the door into the waiting lights of the camera.
I smiled the best smile I knew how, "Sorry. I just found out last night that I would be on the show, and so my brother and his wife came over to celebrate. I think we had a little too much celebrating last night."
"That's quite alright, Ms. Leary," Sean said.
"No heels today, Sean, so I guess I won't be needing your manly arm to get me down the stairs."
"Well, it's here for you if you want it."
I did, and I took it. I really liked this guy. I couldn't even begin to explain it, but he made me feel completely Feminine. Yes, with a capital F.
He took all of my bags as if they were nothing in his right arm, and I got the joy of his left. I leaned my head on his shoulder and we walked out to the car. I didn't know how it would work into the rest of the competition, but I wanted to spend as much time with Sean as I could.
He helped me into the car, and joined me after putting my bags into the trunk.
"So, Barb, are you ready for this little adventure?"
"Surprised they are starting it this soon, but more than ready."
I couldn't help it, I beamed a smile at him. He got a glazed look in his eye, and then went in for a kiss. I froze. No, this can't be happening. I like him, but…
"Sasha."
He jerked back. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have done that."
"No, I'm flattered. Really. I just don't know you."
"Well, I hope to change that, then."
I moderated my smile into a grin. Apparently, I’d have to learn how to control the strength of my smile if it did these sorts of things to the male mind.
And biting my lip would be an extreme no no.
We talked during the ride, which made it enjoyable even if my nerves were trying to get the better of me.
We pulled up at the mansion, and I was struck completely dumb. I'm still embarrassed by the footage of that shot. I look so simple minded.
"Whose house is this?"
"It's the house of the Real Prince Charming for the duration."
"You mean I get to live here?"
He nodded at me.
I squealed, gave him a hug, and ran up to the house…only to find eight of the sixteen already there.
"Welcome, Barbara. With a time of fifteen minutes and four seconds, you are in first place so far."
I looked a question at the man standing in the doorway.
"Most of these women are from Beverly Hills, and so much closer than you were. That is why we were only timing the amount of time it took to get out the door. You've beaten your closest competitor by ten minutes."
I smiled and said, "Thank you. I'm not sure if I deserve the honor, though. I've been so excited about being on the show that I have been packing, and repacking, my bags for the past four months. I was on autopilot this morning."
"Nothing to be ashamed of, Barb. If any of these ladies had taken your example, then they would have had the same opportunity."
Great, from the glares it would seem I'd already made some enemies. I went and stood next to the last girl in line, who had not glared at me.
"Don't let them get to you. My name's Sophie by the way."
"Well, I'm Barb, as you already know."
"Nice to meet you…Barb."
She was checking me out! I gave her a half smile. "So, do the producers know that you're on the other team?" I said quietly.
"What?"
"Honey, I'm bisexual. I caught how you were checking me out. I've seen a lover or two do the same thing."
She blushed bright red, and shook her head. "I've never even told my parents. My girlfriend is pissed at me…I should call her my ex-girlfriend. She left me."
I put my arm around her shoulders as she sobbed a bit.
"Is there something wrong, ladies?"
"Sophie is hormonal." I said bluntly. A couple of the other girls giggled, and Sophie elbowed me in the ribs, but smiled.
"That was a little blunt, Barb."
"I know this isn't going out live, since you can't afford to do that with a reality show. Either you'll edit it out, or you'll use it to create a character for me that the audience can accept. Either way, I'm not going to beat around the bush to convey knowledge that either you should already know, or will need to know."
The man was dumbfounded. I smiled at him. A really bright full smile. Then I licked my lip and said, "That's alright?"
He shook his head and laughed.
"I think it's going to be a joy to work with you, Ms. Scott. Or should I say Ms. Leary?"
My jaw dropped open.
"We only found out last night. Or I should say I only found out last night."
"You're the producer."
"Yes, I paid for the show and wanted to the be host. They let me. Last night, when you walked in, I was completely shocked. I knew I'd not seen your name on the list, and so I had to figure out what was going on. Joyce told me you were contemplating suicide when you called us?"
"My spouse had just died. I was a wreck and unable to go on alone. I saw the add and sort of thought of it as a last hurrah. I can leave."
I thought I would be able to do this, but I broke down and began to cry.
Sophie and a couple of the other girls gathered around me and held me.
"Actually, being an actress doesn't disqualify you, although if you'd told us you were Dawn Leary I would have snatched you up for a real role. We'll need you to resign your paperwork with your real information, though."
I giggled at this.
"Ok, now stand up so I can give your introduction for the camera."
I got out a small mirror and touched up my makeup quickly, and then stood up at the end of the line.
"Welcome, Dawn. Some people in the audience may recognize her from her starring role in 'Love's Sunset.' She's a Texas native who has lived much of her live in California."
The rest of the morning went like that. Girls arriving, some out of breath, and being given their time. Nothing like the drama that the final show gave you. It was edited to taters. Worked for me, though. They decided to completely cut out my breakdown.
Then, finally, the last girl arrived.
"I'm sorry, Melinda, but even your time of sixteen minutes even is not enough. Dawn, you have won this first challenge. Let me explain the rules for you. The Ladies challenges decide the order in which you will be selecting the men. You will be in a private booth, and will get a bank of televisions that will display the men as they compete against each other in tests designed to see who is the Real Prince Charming.
"Their scores will be tallied, but you won't be told was they are until after every girl has chosen one of the men. The man with the lowest score and the woman who picked him will go home. You may not pick a man who another woman has already picked, unless otherwise stated. In addition, you can't pick the same man two challenges in a row, so if you can't pick the best man, pick the second best."
There was general giggling and laughter at this.
"After the elimination, the remaining couples will go on romantic dates planned by the man. It will give you a personal view of his personality, and possibly help you judge him better during the next competition."
"Well, that's a nice turn about," said one of the other women. I think her name was Angela. "We get to pick the guys."
"If you'll come this way, we'll get you situated in the judges room."
They could have called it a theater. There were sixteen plush seats arranged around a room draped in velvet and satin. The televisions in the front were showing different scenes around the house, as well as each of the sixteen men.
All of you have likely seen what the men went through in that first challenge, so I'll give you a brief synopsis.
The competition was to choose the perfect bouquet of flowers for a girl who was a friend, with a hint of romance.
Most of the men went with white roses and one or two red. Somebody should have told them that Pink means friendship, not white. And red is love, not passion.
So, they were, in essence telling the girl that they thought her virginal, and were in love with her.
Yeah, I was as clueless as you before everything was explained.
They never showed the argument about Sean on the air.
"Excuse me, I want to make the perfect bouquet for a girl I know."
"Of course, sir. What did you have in mind."
"We've been friends for a while, and I want to let her know that there could be something more to my feelings."
"That you love her?'
"Well, I think she's smoking hot, but I don't know if my feelings go beyond wanting her and enjoying her friendship."
"Well, a truthful man. I like it. Let's go with pink carnations and roses with an amaryllis or two surrounding a single passion flower."
That is what was shown on TV. I thought it was the most beautiful arrangement I'd ever seen. And I said so.
"But he cheated by asking the florist what to get."
"Come on, Angela. You can't tell me that was cheating. They were never told they couldn't ask for help," Sophie replied.
"If you spent more time looking at the men, than at the women."
Sophie slapped her for this. I decided to join in. "so are any of you saying that you wouldn't have appreciated Sean's bouquet more than most of the other guy's"
"It looks like he put more thought into his," said Melinda
"And you're saying that the thought doesn't count?"
Angela was getting angry now, "but he didn't put any thought into it."
"He thought enough to ask how to put together the best bouquet. That's all that matters, Angela." I was getting angry.
"Come on, girls. If Dawn likes what she sees in Sean, then she picks him. You don't have to agree about his actions as were only judging who we think is the best."
Willow was a gem. She tended to act that way toward the rest of us. It's no wonder that we started calling her 'mom'.
Sure, it wasn't a long fight, but it would form the rest of the interaction between Angela and I. I think she resented the fact that I was an actor.
I resented the fact that she commented on every guys butt.
"I'd love to get my hands on that rump roast."
"His buns would look great in my bed."
"Have you ever seen someone who looked that good in a tight pair of jeans?"
"Angela, I know you’re playing to the cameras, which may or may not be here, but could you be a little more circumspect?"
"Sorry that we stepped on the toes of the famous Ms. Dawn Leary."
I copied her exact movements, and tone, "Sorry that we stepped on the toes of the famous Ms. Angela Darren."
"That's not funny!"
"That's so funny!"
Everyone was laughing at her, and I did my best not to even crack a smile, especially since I was trying to keep the same expression of anger on my face that was on hers.
"Oh, do me, next," Sophie said with a smile.
"You'd enjoy that, wouldn't you," I said with a smoldering look.
Everyone else laughed, even, Angela, but I could tell that this wasn’t over.
At the elimination ceremony later, I picked Sean and someone I never really got to know was eliminated. Her name was Deborah. We hugged and she left. So did the guy she picked. A hulking brute of a man who'd actually composed a bouquet of nothing but red roses.
"What do you have planned for us," I asked with a small smile for Sean.
"You'll just have to wait and see tomorrow," he said back.
We all went to our separate rooms. For the first time, today, I was afraid. I'd made it through the entire day without anyone twigging to the fact that I wasn't a genetic female, but here was the moment of truth. They would be seeing my entire body, well in underwear since I wasn't stripping completely for them, and I would be seeing them.
They were all chattering and getting undressed, a couple of them glancing in Sophie's direction, and I just sat there. I wanted to get changed, but it terrified me.
"Look, the little actress is afraid to get naked in front of us. What with the swim suit you were almost wearing and the way Mark was gushing all over you. You must have been a porn star," Angela said.
"Angela, you are a complete bitch," came a voice from behind me. I turned, and for the first time noticed the girl in the red dress who'd been at that first cattle call.
"Hi, I was there before you this morning, so you might not have caught my name. I'm Sarah. And you're Dawn Leary. I saw your film at Cannes. I thought you should have won the SAGs award as well. Frieda can only look pretty and be herself on screen. People keep writing movies for her, though, so what can you expect."
Frieda Cummings was a former porn star turned dramatic actress. Her past sort of kept her out of real movies, so she went from one indie production to the next. I had to disagree with Sarah about her talents, but I always thought everyone else was better than me.
"Angela, this woman has only ever been in one movie, and I'd know. She is probably embarrassed to show skin when not in a bathing suit. You saw how uncomfortable she was standing around in that piece of floss. If she wasn't the actress she is, I doubt she'd have made it in."
I was confused, and I'm sure that I looked it.
"I'm Sarah Parson. I'm a film critic."
The bottom dropped out of my stomach and I felt the blood drain from my face.
Sarah laughed, "Oh don't be like that. I didn't twig to you until Mark let us know earlier. I have to say that you look better as a redhead. Course, that might have just been the one scene talking."
I giggled at this, and beamed a smile at her.
"It's not that. It's just that this will be the first time I've ever really undressed in front of anyone. I mean in public. On set, when you get undressed or changed, or are getting body makeup, everyone is professional. You don't expect to be ogled and measured."
"Sophie, I think she wants you to leave the room."
"Shut up, Angela. Give Sophie a break. Just cause she likes your body more than you do." I slammed my mouth shut as soon as the words left my mouth. Angela's eyes grew wide, and two spots of color appeared on her cheeks.
"How dare you…"
"I may never have been in anything you've heard of, but I've been in the industry for long enough to see the signs. Bulimia leaves its mark on the body, and not necessarily in the good way."
Her mouth dropped open.
"See, right there, your teeth show signs of wear that even your bleach job didn't cover. There are tooth marks on your left middle finger, so I assume you're left handed. Your breath freshener is too sweet to cover up the smell of bile. Need I go on?"
"How dare you!"
"You need some help, honey, and I don't think anyone here would be doing you favors by telling you differently."
"You bitch." She stormed out of the room, and a couple of the other girls, including Sarah, followed her. The tears were already forming in her eyes before she left.
"That was cold, Dawn."
"Sorry, but not telling her the truth could easily lead her to a bad end."
After that, my fear was gone. I got undressed and put on my dressing gown. I got a few oohs and ahhs over it. It was the fancies that anyone had. I felt my underwear clashed with it, so I went naked underneath. They post processed a slight blurring when they showed it on TV. You could clearly see my nipples underneath it.
After I did that. A lot of the other girls relaxed a lot. It seems they were a bit worried about Sophie being there. When I was the last to get undressed, and I went that far, I think they decided that there wasn't much to worry about.
"Hey, Sophie. How do I look?"
Linda was in a very pretty lace bra and panty set, and a couple of the other girls gasped.
"Linda, I appreciate the offer, and like how they look on you, but I'm not looking for a relationship on the show."
Linda pouted prettily, and then smiled. "Thanks. I was so worried when I overheard you were a lesbian. I guess my preconceptions were wrong."
"What preconceptions?"
"Well, that you would try to force yourself on us and turn is lesbian."
"Would you expect a guy to try to rape you if he were here?"
Linda was dumbfounded. I spoke up, "Sophie, she didn't think about it that way. It never occurred to think of you like a guy."
Linda began to get a faraway look and then a small smile on her face.
"I think I need to go take a long bath," she said with a slightly breathy voice.
Sophie's legs went out from under her and she had the same faraway look. And then she refocused on Linda's behind with a smile.
"Sophie, I originally took the single room, but if you'd like to switch with me…?"
She just nodded.
"I'll move my stuff later and let you get acquainted with it now."
Sophie is a screamer. So is Linda for that matter. When they rejoined us awhile later, they both looked a bit sheepish and we got some good laughs at their expense.
And that was my first day in the mansion. I made sure to properly hydrate before going to bed, hoping that my headache would be completely gone before tomorrow.
I woke up with my hand in a bowl of water. I personally had never known anyone who that had worked on, and it didn't work on me. I put my hand to my crotch and looked horrified for a moment and Angela started laughing.
"Thanks for giving yourself away." I said with a smirk.
"What?"
"It's called acting." I said as I stood up, displaying a bed. I'd slept in the nude the night before, and so after standing up I put on my dressing gown.
Here is where I got the nickname "Ice Queen."
I literally forgot how sheer the material of my gown was. After putting the bowl of water under Angela's pillow while she was in the bathroom, I went downstairs to get something to eat. Carlos gave me a wolf whistle when he entered the room. I glared at him.
"Look, chika, if you're gonna show off that body, then you gotta expect some attention, am I right Henry?"
"You know it, my man."
They gave each other fist bumps and chuckled at their witty repartee.
I mollified my glare and just looked at them as if they weren't there. "Well, I suppose that you two won't be here long enough for me to worry about it."
"What are you talking about?"
"Yeah, what are you spouting, Chika?"
"Since we're here looking for a Prince Charming, you two are obviously out of the running. So, get your looks in while you can, since I am way out of your league."
"Barb, are these two hoodlums giving you any trouble?" Sean took that moment to walk in.
"Nothing I couldn't handle, Sasha."
Carlos spit out his drink and Henry began laughing.
"Barb!" Sean said shocked.
"Look, Sean, if you'd told them your name was Sergei, they'd have less trouble accepting your nickname as Sasha."
"Wait, your name is Sergei?"
"Dude, that's so cool. Can we call your surge? I've always wanted a friend with a nickname of Surge."
"Sure," he said a bit distractedly, as I'd stood up and the full impact of my almost nudity struck him.
I walked imperiously out of the room.
"Barb, wait!"
Ok, so it only looked imperious. It wasn't what I intended at the time. It's just that I only then realized that I was basically naked, looked completely female, and was alone in a room with three guys. In a word, I was scared and uncomfortable, and that translated my body language into haughty.
It apparently made for good TV.
I was hugging myself in the next room when Sean found me. That was one of the scenes they never showed, of course, why show one of their villains with an emotional side. They set me up to be hated. I didn't do enough at the points when they had to show me to disprove it. If I'd had any clue how they edited these shows I would have done a much better job during the one-takes.
No, that's not an industry term, that is a me term. There are scenes in any movie or TV show that you can't redo. The time it takes to set up is simply prohibitive, or you have a couple thousand, or even hundred thousand, dollars worth of pyrotechnics for the shot. Either way, the actors all have to get it in the first "take" or first time.
As a child, I smashed the words together when they would say, "Ok, people, we need to do this in one take."
I ended up with my own term that I would use in my head. It helped me focus.
It helped, too. Think about the Fourth of July scene in "Love's Sunset", or when they were blowing up the corridor around me in "Catastrophic Failure." Or maybe the death scene in "Huguenot." Sure, the director thought I looked too girly, but hey, it was only the truth.
Ok, the death scene was a bad example, since I missed my queue the first time, and they had to set up for a second shot and we lost two days of production. It was supposed to be a one-take.
"Barb, come on. What's wrong?"
"I'm naked."
"I noticed."
I hid my face in my knees and held them to me. "I've never been this naked before. I feel exposed."
"Then put some clothing on, you silly girl."
"No, I don't mean that. I mean…I've always deal with my kind of people. Professionals. People who could handle whatever you did, or were asked to do, and move on. It didn't even occur to me to be worried about coming down to breakfast nude. Everyone would just overlook my gaffe."
I turned my head to look at him from under a fall of hair.
"I don't belong here. I'm not real."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"I'm and actor, Sean."
"You mean actress."
In that moment, I meant I was a man, and acting out a role, but Sean, sweet as ever, misunderstood my intent. He simply couldn't see it. I gave him a hug.
"Thanks for caring."
I got up and began to leave.
"Barb, where are you going?"
"To get some clothing on."
I turned in time to see Sean blushing bright red.
I blew him a kiss as I left the room.
When I got back to the room, there were a couple of guys there searching through my bags.
"What is going on here?"
"Sorry, Miss, but we were told that someone here was using a cell phone last night, so we're searching everyone's bags."
"What's this?" the other one asked.
He was holding up my bottle of Permanence.
"What does it look like?"
"Um…"
"It's nail polish, you moron," I said as I snatched it out of his hand. "I thought you were looking for cell phones, or do you think I magically made one small enough to fit inside this bottle of nail polish."
One of the guys glared at me, but the other one blushed. "Look, ma'am, this is our job."
"Then get to it, and I suggest you check the girl who is smirking behind you next."
They turned instantly on Angela, and she paled, "Wait…"
That was all the shark needed, a little blood in the water, and they descended. They were a lot less careful about Angela's stuff than they had been about mine. There was no cell phone of course, but they knew that they'd been had, and they let everyone know that not only were cell phones not allowed, like they'd told us last night, but that false reports would be dealt with severely.
After they left, Angela just let me have it.
"you bitch. How could you do that to me? They tore this top! They ruined half my makeup!"
"And the half they left is still more than most of the rest of us brought. You trying to hide your real age under a metric ton of concealer?"
I know, that line made it to the show, but I'm pretty proud of it.
She glared at me. "Not all of us have a body as fake as yours."
I couldn't help it. I laughed. Of all the insults she could come up with. "Is that all you have? Childish insults and pranks, and when they backfire you go running to daddy Shurtleff?"
"Dawn, a moment if I could?"
And there he was, standing in the doorway.
"Sure," I said blushing, and Angela began laughing at my expense.
"Angela, pull one more stunt like this and we'll kick you from the show."
"You can't…"
I have never seen a glare that literally dropped the temperature in a room before. I never want to again.
"Try me," he said to Angela, and then turning off his glare and turning back to me he said, "Dawn?"
"Yes, sir."
I followed him into the other room. "We have a couple of problems, Dawn, and we need to resolve them before we continue principle photography."
"Um."
"Very articulate. The first is that the network has already started promotion for the show. They started yesterday actually. Pretty much as soon as we finalized our picks. The entry scene was the last bit they wanted for it. They have your name there as Barbara."
I felt my heart sinking, "And the second problem?"
"Sean called you Barb in a spot we can't edit."
"Then it's simple, Mark, tell the network that my SAG card is under the name of Dawn Leary because I changed it when I joined the guild. I always thought that Dennis Leary was a great comedian, and I liked the idea of it being a new dawn to my career."
"That sounds…what's your real name?"
"A girl's gotta have some secrets."
I don't know why, but I kissed him on the cheek as I went out of the room.
"Wait, but what about Barbara?"
"I used my real name when I tried out for the show since I didn't think that Dawn Leary would be let through the door at the cattle call."
"You're prescient. I would have signed you right there for my next romantic movie."
"That's sweet, but after this I think I'll be out of the spotlight for a while. I have some issues I need to work through."
"The death of your husband?"
I smirked. Oh the little lies we tell.
"Mark, I've never slept with a man."
"But…oh…Oh!" His eyes got really wide at this, "You're Wife!?"
"Now he gets it. I changed it during the one-take yesterday since I didn't think national television was ready for a lesbian widow. And before you say what you are thinking of saying, there is a closet lesbian and an open one also in your group of sixteen, as well as the fact that I think I'm more bisexual that anything else."
"Huh?"
"I'm attracted to both guys and girls. You should understand that. After all, it's kind of obvious that I think you're sexy."
"Who?"
"The lesbians? I won't tell you, Mark, but if everything goes well then they might just let everyone know during the course of this."
"How will I be able…"
"Mark, this is reality TV. All you do is change the script that you keep behind the scenes. When you figure out who it is, quietly tell them that instead of picking one of the guys, they can pick each other. Sure, you have four people leave in one elimination, but it makes for great TV, if their up for it. Otherwise you let them know the guys who will be eliminated in two successive eliminations and they go out that way."
Mark was silent for a moment or two, and then he looked at me with a glint in his eye, "I have no idea what you mean, Ms. Leary."
He got up and left after that, but it was all the confirmation I'd needed. I knew there was a fix somewhere in this competition, and I thought I had some idea where it was.
It was little things that clued me in at that point, but little did I know the full extent of the lie.
Sophie was screaming when I got back to the room, and not in ecstasy.
"You little bitch!"
"Yes, Angela is that, but what did she do this time, Soph?"
"She put my hand in a dish of water and I peed the bed."
I blinked, "You mean that actually works with some people?"
She blushed and opened her mouth, but I continued.
"Angela tried the same thing with me. That is why her pillow is wet. I put her bowl of water under her pillow."
Before Angela could make one of her ill thought out come-backs, Melinda spoke up.
"Ladies, it's too early in the morning to be this angry. Angela, you are an adult, not some teenager. Start acting your age. Dawn, stop provoking Angela. Sure, she's pretty when she's angry, but from what I've seen Sean is more the one to get your motor running. Sophie, let's get you cleaned up."
And there was mom again, defusing another situation.
I relieved myself and then got dressed. Cotton top and pants that fit me like a glove. No underwear today. I loved the caress on my butt when I walked. I was thinking about the guys reactions to me and could feel myself straining against my Second Skin prison. I checked myself in the mirror to make sure that nothing was showing, which it wasn't, and heaved a slight sigh of relief.
I found myself beginning to think of Sean, and what he could do to ease my strain. That shifted suddenly to him penetrating me, and the pressure got worse. I wanted him like I'd never wanted another human being. Not even Aimee. I began to slightly rub my crotch and realized I could feel it. No, not like I was physically touching myself, but in a more distant, but pleasant, way.
Through a force of will, I ignored my feelings, that time, and stopped rubbing. I didn't want to take any chances of ruining the appliance with no possibility of fixing it.
It really hurt for about half an hour before the pain, and my genitals, subsided.
When I went downstairs there was much flirting going on, and even some heavy petting off in one corner. They kept those sorts of things off screen, but they happened. When you have thirty-six hours to play with and fit into the 42 minutes of an hour long television program, you get to paint any picture that you like.
It's how so many "perfect" couples end up breaking up after the show ends.
"Barb!"
I was Sean. My heart skipped a beat. His smile made me melt. If I could I would have jumped him right there and damn the consequences.
"Heya, Sasha."
"So, you ready for our date?"
I'd almost forgotten. We'd be going out for our dates with our chosen men today. Tomorrow would be more competitions. At this rate, we would be done with all of this in no more than a month. thirty days from today and I would know who the winner was. The desire to win the competition and prove myself as an actor and a woman was so strong.
"What do you have planned?"
"How about a picnic in a hot air balloon?"
Ok, I know what you're thinking. The images they showed on the program made it all look rather romantic. And in the abstract, at that moment, it was.
Then there's reality.
We had to drive for almost an hour to get to the place where the balloon was set up. I was distracted by the fact I was wearing no underwear, and by the closeness of Sean. Uncomfortable only begins to cover it. My pants were riding up my butt. The cotton seemed to slip right off the leather interior of the limo. And Sean kept trying to put his arm around me.
He'd gone to so much trouble I didn't want to shoot him down completely, but then again, I didn't want to lead him on. And I also wanted to lead him on at the same time. The things I imagined doing to him in that limo make me blush.
Ok, so a lot makes me blush, but I am embarrassed at the thoughts I had, so I'm not going to share them.
The thoughts increased pressure against…certain parts of me, and that increased my discomfort. I'm sad to say that I was fidgeting by the time we got done.
When we got there, I saw the movie crane, and I knew exactly what was in store. They'd get shots of us from "outside" the balloon, and edit it to look like it was hundreds of feet in the air.
Then there was the size of the basket, gondola, thing, under the balloon. We could stand comfortably in it, but that's about in. Add in the operator, and you are starting to get the picture.
I dropped the wine bottle three times before they stopped retrieving it for us. I think we got a couple of bites, what from the wind and all. I was frozen, and miserable by the time they finally called it a day.
I know, in the footage they have, I seem to be having a wonderful time. I was acting like it for the cameras, but when we were done, there's a reason there's no footage of the ride back to the masion.
"What kind of an imbecile decides to have a picnic in a hot-air balloon."
"I thought it would be romantic."
"In theory, sure, but there are a lot of things that are romantic on paper, and a stupid idea in the real world. Like kissing underwater. You're spending most of the time worrying about holding your breath, keeping water from going up your nose, keeping yourself underwater in the first place, and so on. The kissing part at that point is incidental."
Aimee and I had tried kissing underwater on three separate occasions. I was half drowned the first time when we decided to give up. Aimee really wanted to get it right, though, so we kept trying. Not worth it.
"Oh, sorry, Barb."
"It's ok, Sasha. Thank you for the thought, but I'm cold, and I'm hungry, and I really didn't enjoy myself."
"I was planning on heading for a burger afterwards, since that really wasn't my type of food."
"I'd love a burger, Sasha."
We ended up going for a burger and fries at MacDonald's. Through the drive through. In a limo. And for all the girls out there who say that is a cop-out of a date, all I have to say is don't knock it 'til you try it. I've done that again with my husband many times since then. You get some awesome stares from the people at the window.
Course, I'm a little more famous than I was at that point so they may just be staring at me.
No, I'm not conceited.
We laughed and talked for what turned out to be hours. While I was digging into my burger, he'd talked to the driver and told him to take the scenic route. That was both the best and worst date I'd ever been on.
"So, would you mind keeping the particulars of our second date to yourself?"
"Why, it was great. I loved it."
Sean got a pained look in his eye, so I just nodded, "ok, I'll keep it to myself."
"Thank you, Barb."
I was on cloud nine when we finally got back to the house. Today had been a rollercoaster of emotion for me, and I was ready to relax by the pool. I lay in the sun while the other couples trickled back in from their various dates. Many of them got into their swimsuits and joined me by the pool.
It was a pleasant afternoon, and I simply enjoyed the company, well most of it, anyway.
Sean was attentive and got me drinks as I lay there. It was…pleasant. That's all I can say about it. I was content.
Other people were less so.
"Carlos, I don't care if it has memories for you of childhood. I didn't like being taken to In-N-Out."
"But Willow…"
"Don't 'but' me. You had an unlimited budget and that's what you offer?"
"I thought that by sharing a bit of myself…"
"Then count me out of learning any more about you."
I know, I thought Carlos was a bit of a jerk this morning, but that was at least partially my fault. I was naked after all. And they are guys. I shouldn't blame them for thinking with their equipment.
Willow on the other hand was taking it way too seriously.
"Come on, Willow, give him a break." I had to chime in.
"It's not like Sean took you to a fast food place. I heard already. Hot air balloon picnic."
"So what if he did, Willow. Dates are about connecting to the other person, and not about so romantic getaway. I would have appreciated it so much better if it had just been a simple picnic in the park."
"Don't give me that, girl, I saw how your eyes lit up when you found out what your date would be," Amanda said.
I felt bad for that now, since it undermined my point. I wished that Sean hadn't made me promise not to tell, because I really wanted to. Our "real" date gave a bad impression about what was important. It made the surface seem to be more important than the substance.
"To tell you guys the truth, after having done the 'super romantic' date I'd much prefer a date at a fast food place."
"Put your money where your mouth is, then, chica."
"In other words, pick you tomorrow?"
"Exactly," he smiled at me.
"You just want to see if I'll let you touch my breasts."
He blushed bright red. I got up and sauntered over to him. "I haven't been to an In-N-Out in years. If I get the opportunity to pick you, then I will." I kissed him on the cheek and walked out.
As you all know Willow complained about being taken to a fast foot join for the rest of the competition. Every time she brought it up, Sean and I just looked at each other and laughed. Especially since she was so jealous of the balloon ride.
Now you know what the infamous "inside joke" was all about.
It wasn't until I was lying in the dark trying to fall asleep that I realized that I'd promised to pick Carlos the next day as long as no one else already had.
The next day I was already up and ready to go when Mark peaked his head into the girl's room. He gestured for me to follow him, and I got up to follow. He raised an eyebrow at my attire, or lack thereof, and led me into the same study from yesterday.
"How are things going, Dawn?"
"Pretty well, Mark."
"So you know, most of the time you are in here, you will be recorded. This room is soundproofed, so you can speak your mind. We use this to do the 'interviews' that are so common in reality TV."
"And then edit them down into soundbites."
He laughed, "Of course."
"So, what do you want me to say?"
"Anything. If you don't really have any opinions, then I can ask you some questions, but it's really up to you to decide what you're going to say."
"You going to be in here every time I do this?"
"If you'd like."
There was a look of admiration in his eye that I didn't really understand. I was just me. Just Dawn Leary. Crossdressing Transgendered Actor.
I began to giggle. I thought of myself doing the song from Rocky Horror. I'd never tried to sing before, so I didn't know if I had any aptitude for it, but it would be funny in my opinion.
"What's so funny, Dawn?"
"Nothing, really. Just thinking about what some of my friends would think of this situation."
"Friends?"
"Karl and Ilene."
"Washed Out Bridge? That Karl?"
"Yes. He did a lot of work with Donnie Leary, and so the two of us became friends."
"Donnie?"
"I thought Joyce told you. Oh, well, he's my brother."
I knew then that Mark knew nothing about who I really was, and a bit of my happiness went away. I still had a secret to keep from everyone here.
"Something wrong?"
"Donnie's been missing since I tried out for the Real Prince Charming. We tried to file a missing persons report, but we were told that he is an adult and that sometimes they just leave. Donnie isn't really like that, but I don't know what else to do. I move on, hoping he isn't gone forever. I miss him, especially at times like this. I know he wishes me the best, though, wherever he is."
"Would you like me to see if there's anything I can do?"
"No, thank you, Mark. I appreciate the gesture, but I don't want to make Donnie's disappearance into something big."
"It would be no trouble."
"I said no, Mark." I was getting agitated. I didn't want him to look into it, and yet, I think I was acting a bit suspiciously.
"Either he'll turn up, or he won't. He was close to my wife, and thought he had a real chance with her. He took her death even harder than I did. I am afraid that he might have committed suicide. I've already mourned him. If he comes back, then I'll rejoice. There's nothing I can do about it in the meantime."
"You are a complex woman, Dawn."
"That is the best compliment anyone's ever paid me, Mark."
I beamed my smile at him and he melted. I went to give him a peck on the cheek, he turned to face me, and we were kissing on the lips. I was shocked and froze, and he wrapped his arms around me. For a moment I melted into him, aware of nothing more than his lips and tongue. The smell of him filled my nostrils, and then I was pushing back from him and pulling away.
I ran out of the room crying. What was wrong with me? I wanted to stay there with Mark, and felt like I was cheating on Sean. I wasn't cheating on anyone. I wasn't promised to Sean. Fifteen of the girls would be leaving the show. The odds were against me winning, but I held out hope for some reason.
But, Mark…
I spent the next hour crying and being comforted by Willow, Sophie and Linda. In editing they made it look like I had fought with Sean, but you know it really wasn’t that now.
I wouldn't tell them what happened, and hoped Mark didn't tell anyone either. I didn't want anyone to know that I was confused. I was supposed to be all put together, and I couldn't decide on one man I wanted more than any other.
I started repeating the name Sean over and over, and so they began to assume that it was Sean who hurt me. I let them believe it, since Mark knew the truth.
"Ladies, you have an hour to get ready for the next challenge. Meet the crew downstairs." This was one of the women who would be leading us from place to place for the rest of the show. I never learned her name, I'm sorry to day.
I wiped away my tears with a hand and tried to put on a smile. It made the others smile and giggle a bit. We all broke up to get ready for the day them.
Well, let me address this 'issue.'
I cried on the third morning. Yes, that morning appeared on the second episode, minus me bawling my eyes out, but me bawling my eyes out was moved after events that happened later in the show.
Reality TV is less about reality and more about pseudo reality.
They edit the footage so that instead of a log it is a drama. Edited for dramatic emphasis. They create a story out of the lives of normal people. It is shown months after filming giving them the opportunity to make people seem like villains or heroes. They paint people in a better or worse light.
After having been in one, I can say that there is less reality in a 'reality TV' program than in your normal prime time drama.
At least the prime time drama makes no pretenses at showing real people in real situations.
I am telling my story. It has a beginning and an end, and usually proceeds from the first to the last. Usually. So, this happened on my third day at the mansion, and that's the story I'm sticking to. Don't believe me if you don't want to.
I spent longer than usual repairing damage in the bathroom that morning. By which I mean that I was gluing down the edges and trying not to make a complete mess of it. So far, as we figured would be the case, at least initially, there had been no opportunities for me to either get out to Karl or even contact him.
The small bottle had enough in it for at least a few more of these touchups, but it wouldn't last for a full month, and neither would the rest of the work on the appliance.
Composed, makeup on, dressed, I went down to get my breakfast. We were all more or less enjoying the company of everyone else, when Mark came in. I turned away from him. I simply couldn't bear to look him in the eye right now, and figured I could listen well enough with my back turned.
"Ladies, it's time for your next challenge. In today's age, it seems that most people have gotten away from the simple home tasks that in generations past everyone, especially women, were expected to be able to do on a daily basis.
"This next challenge will put that statement to the test. It doesn't need to be fancy, but we want you all to prepare a dinner. You have a budget of one hundred dollars, and have access to whatever you need for this competition. We'll be taking you to another location where we'll have a cooking station for each of you. You'll have six hours from when we arrive to accomplish this task, and the men will be tasting your offerings."
Aimee and I had shared cooking duty, so I knew how to make at least a few things, and even better, I knew how to follow a recipe. It might not be four star dining at its best, but at least it would be edible. That's all I could hope for here. That and not placing in the bottom.
There is a secret to making really good spaghetti, and it's not the sauce.
The primary thing that alters the experience is the noodles. They have a very subtle flavor, but it's there and it will color the impression that you get of the rest of the dish. Making your spaghetti go from just blah to something edible requires cooking the spaghetti noodles to the right consistency in water that has been seasoned to the right amount.
I like to use ginger, oregano, some chili powder, diced onions, and my secret ingredient: a pinch of nutmeg.
The sauce is garlic, more oregano, parsley diced and dried, basil, and cumin. I like Chicken as the meat. Less greasy. Also, green olives. I prefer the ones with pimento, but any will really work here. Sliced. They are both for contrast, and a bitter tang. It complements the nutmeg mentioned earlier.
Since the entrée was going to cost me very little, I went with breadsticks. I thought that I might be trying for too much by getting premade dough and then cooking that in the oven, but I had to do something a little special. I brushed them with butter. No garlic. Yes there is such a thing as too much garlic.
I spent most of my money on a bottle of red wine that I can't remember the name of. You can watch the episode if it really matters to you. I followed the suggested of the boy in the store.
I've never really had much money for wine or things like that, so I hoped everything he'd told me was correct. The bottles of scotch mentioned in the beginning were an aberration.
It seems that I was among the first qualified contestants to finish.
Angela and two of the others had ordered out. Angela had actually been thinking at least logically and ordered a catered meal. It looked right, but of course the cameras were everywhere.
The other two simply didn't think ahead. They were tied for last. Angela got second to last.
Apparently one of the other girls, Helena, was a professional chef, but you all saw that on the show. Sorry. Sometimes I forget I am just retelling my portion of a story everyone's already seen.
She came in first, but that isn't a shock to anyone. She also took the most time.
Sophie finished her meal before I did. Sarah finished just after I did.
Now, if you'll recall, they had a tally sheet that they graded us on. I was completely smashed in the presentation category. Apparently it isn't kosher to put everything on the same plate, which is the most simple and easy way to access your food.
I got high marks for the wine, for which I was silently thanking the shopkeeper, and apparently they thought my sauce was top notch. I smiled to myself. No one blames the spaghetti when the sauce tastes bland, but they give the sauce all the credit when the spaghetti makes it taste that much better.
More than one of the guys stopped back at my table after all of the judging was done for a full portion of my spaghetti.
Seems my meal was a true success in the only way that really matters: people wanted to eat it.
I didn't get to even taste the wine I'd purchased, so I can't tell you a thing about it.
When the tally was complete, and everyone was ranked, I came in third. Not too bad for a meal that took me little time and less money.
We were driven back to the mansion and we filed into the theater for the second competition of the day. The guys would be showing off their parenting skills. Well, parenting light I guess would be the best way to term it.
Wow, it was a disaster. Unmitigated.
Well, only for me.
I'd made a promise to Carlos that I would pick him if he was available, and he would be for my lofty pick position. He borrowed one of the kids portable game systems, and spent the entire time playing and almost completely ignoring the kids. They wrecked the room he was in, and he barely batted an eye when the woman who ran the center the kids were in asked who would be cleaning it up.
"I assumed that you would be cleaning it up."
And here is where they pulled a trick on us, and something that I would come to suspect they did throughout the entire competition. They ended his footage there. Basically, there were sixteen screens, each with a name underneath. And when their portion was done, or they were out of the competition, their screen was turned off.
Yes, they moved the names around to keep the screens together that were active as the competition progressed.
They didn't show what happened next with Carlos because, as you know, WE were the ones really being tested. You in the audience saw what happened, of course, because you were told all of this ahead of time.
The woman glared at Carlos.
"Look, I'm sorry. This was my fault, and I should have watched the kids better. Hey, kids! Why don't we help clean this up. I let you run loose earlier, so now we all get to pay for it."
"No!"
One of the little boys was glaring at him.
"No? Really? Weren't you the one who tore the poster off the wall and shredded it? I really think that means you are responsible for picking up the pieces," Carlos turned toward the woman and pulled out his wallet, "how much do I owe you for the poster and the other items they wrecked?"
The woman looked a bit flustered. "The studio already said they would pay for it."
"Ok, then. Kids? Let's get to work!" He had a huge smile on his face as he pitched in. After a couple of seconds the rest of the kids joined him.
Yeah, I consider Carlos to be a big kid. He's really a good guy.
So, I was agonizing over whether or not to pick Carlos. In the end, it was Mark's kiss that decided me. I wanted out of the competition so that I could get away from Mark.
I know, they built it up as this noble thing, but it wasn't. I just wanted to go home.
The other girls were teasing me over my promise, and so I had to say something.
"Look, I made a promise. If I don't keep it, then I'm not worth anyone's time, let alone my own. If that means I'm going home, then I'm going home with my head held high.
No one saw Aaron almost let the kid die. I know I didn't. One minute we're talking, and the next there is Aaron, white as a sheet walking away from the kids and waving to the woman in the middle of them.
I have no clear recollection of his video. He was sort of a non-entity as far as the rest of us were concerned, too.
"What just happened?"
"I don't know," Willow replied to the unknown voice, "Can we get them to play it back?"
A voice came over the speakers, "Sorry, Ladies, these are live, we can't bring them back for you."
That struck me as really false at the time, but I didn't speak up. Of course they were recording them. How else would they show what the guys did on the TV program.
So, we were left not knowing what happened to Aaron, but everything really seemed ok. I was one of the few who saw him white as a sheet, and most attributed it to low blood sugar.
Sean played touch football with his kids and ended up in a dog pile with them. It was a nice moment. Not perfect, but definitely nice.
He had an infectious grin and I couldn't help but smile at him, even though he couldn't see me.
Then it was time to go get ready for the elimination ceremony. Tonight I would be wearing a pale blue dress. I was thoroughly entertained by the other girls trying to get creases out of their clothing choices. I was the only one who'd chosen to bring a flat, hard sided, garment bag to this place. The others had either folded their clothing or used the folding garment suitcases.
A light steaming and my dress was perfect. I wore a robin's egg blue satin corset and matching panty, bikini cut. I styled my hair loosely, only putting a simple brown clip in it to keep it out of my eyes. The color of the clip matched my hair.
I added a pair of diamond studs and matching necklace and called myself done. I went downstairs to wait.
It gave me a wonderful opportunity to mingle with the guys.
"Wow, you are gorgeous," Carlos said. I think he was trying to remind me that he was there.
"Evening, Carlos." I smiled at him.
"Barb, if you hadn't picked me last time, I'd almost have to demand that you pick me tonight."
"Sean, I need to spread myself around a little bit. Wouldn't want all the others getting jealous of our passion." I said it with a wink. There was general chuckling from the other guys. I was the center of attention. A light blue rose amidst the thorny ground.
"So, Barb, you gonna stick to your promise?"
"You'll have to wait and see, Carlos."
I preened and flirted and simply smiled. I smiled. This was where I belonged. My pick of the best guys in the world. I wanted to be wanted by them. By one of them. They made me feel so secure, even as I was feeling more in control of my surroundings than I ever had before in my life.
Woman, thy name is contradiction.
One by one the other girls came down, more or less put together, and I walked over to take my place third in line.
Helena picked Henry, and then Sophie, after a longing look at Linda picked another of the guys. I think his name was Walter or William or something else W.
"It's your turn to pick, Dawn."
"I made a promise I would pick Carlos, and even with his poor showing today, I must keep my promise. I pick Carlos."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Carlos said in my ear after I walked over to him.
"You spent the day playing video games."
"Yeah, with the kids."
"Well…" That was something the video didn't show. It had seemed he was off in his own little world.
"Sure, some of them didn't have systems, but I traded off a couple of times with them. The poster things was a…I mean I didn't…"
Carlos paled visibly. He swallowed a couple of times and tried to put on a smile, but it was forced.
"What are you talking about, Carlos?"
"Nothing. Don't worry about it, Chika. Nothing to worry about."
More and more about this contest was seeming strange. Sure, it was just little things, but there was definitely something that they weren't telling us.
I thought over the wording of my contract. It had talked about our agreement to go through a wedding should we pick the winning individual and last through the elimination process. I had no fear of that, since legally I couldn't marry any of these guys. That would come out at the end, though, and who knew what would happen between now and then.
Additionally, after all of the indemnity this and clause that there had been something that I couldn't quite put my finger on.
Something about this whole thing just wasn't quite adding up.
We got to the end of our picks and then Mark turned to us.
"Ok, are all of your happy with your picks for the evening?"
We looked at each other a bit confused.
"Tonight, we are diverging from the normal procedure a bit. We will be eliminating a woman from the competition. Someone here has violated the terms of the competition."
What could he be talking about? Could it be that he was planning on removing me from the competition because I'd rejected him? It couldn't be something as simple as that, could it? Or could it?
"We explain the terms of each contest before that contest begins. This morning, three of the women violated the terms of the contest by ordering out instead of preparing a meal. Angela, consider this a warning. There are no shortcuts in this contest. You came in close to the bottom because of your choices, even below people who burned their meal. At least you chose a meal and had it catered. Creativity can't be punished. You are safe, but do not specifically violate a term of a competition again.
"Two other ladies ordered take out. Katie and Ophelia, you are eliminated. Collect your belongings and vacate the mansion."
"The gentleman you chose are safe, however, as they are among the better scoring competitors for this competition. Aaron you will be leaving the competition. Collect your belongings and leave the mansion please. Linda, you may pick one of the remaining two gentlemen."
"I pick, Lewis."
"Henry, you will have been eliminated. Collect your belong…"
"This is bullshit, man. I was promised…"
Henry was shouting and looked like he was going to punch Mark. Before anyone else reacted, I put myself between the two men.
"Henry, what do you think you are doing?" I glared at him, and heard a couple of gasps.
"I was…"
"Just proving why you were eliminated? You are acting less mature than the kids you were playing with earlier. And finger painting? Those were twelve year olds. I don't know about you, but when I was twelve I was more interested in the opposite sex than arts and crafts. Movies, high school. Any of this ring a bell? Sure, video games were popular, but not my thing. But finger painting? Didn't you see how those kids were laughing at you?"
He went bright red.
"Now, see if you can act a little more like the man you claim to be."
I went back to stand next to Carlos who whispered, "Good job, Chika," in my ear.
I caught Mark glaring at me for a moment before he put his smile back on.
"Tomorrow, you'll all be going to the grand opening of Firebird, a much anticipated new restaurant. This will be your date for next episode."
I was shocked, and not in a good way. I'd hoped to get some real quality time with Carlos, hoping to see who he really was, and instead we would be going to a fine dining restaurant to be shown off to the glitterati and paparazzi.
I went upstairs, heading toward my room, when one of the assistants got my attention.
"Dawn, you're wanted in the interview room."
I entered to find it empty except for the camera.
"Hello Camera, my old friend," I said after noticing the red light. "Looks like mark is avoiding us. I can understand why he would avoid me, since I was a bitch to him earlier, but no clue why he is avoiding you.
"No, I wasn't a bitch. It isn't bitchy to stand up for yourself. I don't need to make out with every Tom, Dick, and Sally who thinks themselves a producer. I'm not that kind of girl, and I never will be.
"My wife, Aimee, told me about a couple of parts she lost out on because she wouldn't service the producer. I actually considered decking a few, especially the guy who came to the reading nude. He asked for Aimee and the actress she was reading across from to disrobe. He wanted to make sure that they were suitable for the role.
"Not being shy, Aimee disrobed without a seconds thought and read her lines. The scumbag took her aside afterward and told her she was captivating. She just needed to do one more thing and she was into the movie.
"Him I didn't need to worry about. She kneed him."
I smiled to myself over the thought, but then the smile faded.
"She found out later that her agent had sent her to a porno shoot without telling her. He had to pay a fine to the Actor which she'd kneed. Still, it is an interesting story.
"And it's keeping me from thinking about that kiss this morning. Mark, you confuse the hell out of me. First you tell me that you'd like me to be an actress in your movies, and then you are kissing me like I'm air and you are suffocating. I am not that kind of girl, Mark. I do not sell myself for a role.
"But damn it, I'm attracted to you. I want to be with you. I tried to get myself eliminated this evening by sticking with Carlos. I really thought he had performed poorly."
I began to cry.
"I want Sean. This is supposed to be a contest for the best man here, but I already find myself lost in his eyes, and wanting his arms around me. At least I did want Sean, before that kiss. Now? I think I just need to be needed for once in my life. My wife needed me to need her. She wanted me to be the man of the relationship. Funny, right? Me, a man. Well, she didn't see it that way.
"Oh, god. I'm rambling. I don't know what I want, or need, any more."
"I think I heard a couple of things in there that worked for me."
"Mark?" My face burned.
"Hey, Dawn."
"You heard that?"
"Everything that mattered."
"I have to go."
"Dawn, let me explain. I'm sorry. I didn't want to take advantage of you."
"Then why did you?"
"Look, I'm sorry. If you want to press charges, I have a policewoman down stairs ready to take your statement."
"What?"
"I wanted you to sit her for a minute while I called the police."
"But, it wasn't…you just kissed me."
"And essentially you're my employee. Some people would consider that sexual harassment."
My jaw dropped open and I just looked at him. He was serious.
"Mark, I enjoyed kissing you. A lot."
He got a goofy grin at this.
"But you're right. It's not appropriate."
I got up and walked through the door and downstairs. The officer had a severe face, but a nice body. I smiled at her as I approached.
"Hi, I'm Dawn Leary."
"Hello, Ms. Leary. It seems that a Mark Shurtleff called us to report himself for harassment? He does know that this is a civil issue and not a legal one?"
"I have no idea what Mr. Shurleff knows or does not know. Regardless I have no charges to press. He kissed me. That is it."
"Really?"
"I was upset by it yesterday for a number of reasons. Not least of which is that my wife died recently."
"Your…wife?"
"Yes."
"Then I understand why you would be upset. I have a couple of lesbian friends. Not that I am myself. I mean."
"I'm not a demon, officer. You don't have to worry about me taking offense. Anything else I can help you with?"
"Let Mr. Shurtleff know he'll be fined for a false 911call."
"I will."
I went upstairs to the gossiping and backbiting and got ready for one more night in the mansion.
I was being propositioned by both Sean and Mark. Both wanted me desperately, and both were touching me, and stroking my skin. I woke up crying. Sobbing. It should have been at least erotic, but the terror of what they would find if they got too close was simply too much for my waking mind to take and it had ended the dream.
I cried for a couple of hours, there in the darkness. I did the best that I could to keep it quiet, but my best apparently wasn't good enough, because I heard someone stirring in the room.
"Dawn, what is it honey?"
I pulled away from Willow. She wasn't supposed to comfort me right now. I was so ready in that moment to throw in the towel and just quit the competition. I couldn't handle it. My nerves couldn't handle it. I was leading two wonderful men on, and the worst part was that I wanted to.
I sobbed even harder. I heard some other sleepy noises of confusion from the room, so I got up and fled.
The house was huge, and I found myself in an unused guest room. The queen sized bed made a perfect target for my body, which I flung down upon it. I felt very melodramatic in that moment and wished that the bed was a cliff that I could throw myself from.
I don't know how long I lay there, crying uncontrollably, but eventually I felt the soft arms of Willow wrap themselves around me.
"Shh. It's ok. Shh."
"It's not ok, Willow. I shouldn't be here."
"Why not? You seem as qualified to be here as any of the rest of us."
I sat there in relative silence, the sobs threatening to suffocate me.
"Dawn, honey. It can't be that bad. Sure, Mark likes you, but I doubt that is the reason you're on the show."
"It has to be. Anyone should be able to see I'm not real."
"You certainly feel real enough to me."
I stopped there, teetering on the brink. I could tell her my secret, and then I would be out of the competition. She would tell everyone else what I was. I was a freak and I didn't deserve anything else. They would throw me out and I could get back to figuring out how to pull the trigger on a shotgun while keeping it in my mouth.
"Dawn?"
I shut my mouth tight. Apparently, I spoken at least part of the last paragraph aloud. I still don't know how much I said at that point. I was distraught, tired, and working myself up to a frenzy. So I did the only thing left to me.
"I'm not really a girl, Willow."
"Could have fooled me. I've seen you naked."
"No you haven't, not really."
"This is some sort of illusion?"
"Something like that. I'm wearing really elaborate…um…prosthetics."
"I could see the breasts being fake, but a prosthetic adds to, it doesn't subtract."
"It does when it is smashing that part of me. Well, mostly smashing anyway."
"There's no way that your vagina is fake. They can't make latex that looks like that. I was your pubic hair."
"My makeup artist is a wizard."
"Take it off, prove it to me."
My breath caught in my chest. She wanted such a simple thing, and yet it was so difficult.
"I can't…but if you could stand touching it…"
"This isn't some strange attempt to get me to finger you up is it?"
"I would never do that to you Willow."
I felt the pressure of her fingers even before I stopped talking. I knew that the labia and clitoris were there, even if I had no sensation in the appliance, and the thought of someone touching me in so intimate a spot aroused me a little. She jerked her hand back.
"I felt something move under your skin…well I guess your prosthetic. But it is so…real."
"That's what I've been trying to tell you."
"Sound like a man, then."
"What? But…"
For the past few months, I'd been working on my "female" voice. Not that I spoke higher, or anything. I have a pretty high pitched voice for a guy. It was the way I spoke. There are mannerisms of speech that men use, that women don't, and vice versa.
And for the first time I realized that my speech pattern wasn't forced. I tried, cleared my throat, tried again.
"Shit." And it was the most ladylike swearword you had ever heard.
Willow started giggling at me.
"Stop it, that's not funny."
She laughed harder, and eventually I joined in. When we were both almost calmed down, Willow mimicked me saying the word and we busted out laughing again.
"Dawn, were you really the actress in Love's Sunset?"
"I really was."
"I have that movie on BluRay. I watch it every couple of weeks with my girlfriends. When your character finds out that she has only weeks to live, it tears my heart out."
"Then blame me. They approached me toward the end of filming and asked me if I would agree to make a second movie. I was still pretending to be a guy at the time, so I declined, vehemently."
"Listen to yourself, Dawn. Do your really think you are a guy?"
"No, but I am male."
"Physically, maybe. I felt you flinch when I touched you."
"What?"
"You are wierded out being in a lesbian relationship right now."
"I was married."
"And you took your vows seriously?"
"Of course I did."
"What were they, your vows I mean?"
"That I would never love another woman for as long as I lived."
"Well, you're still alive, aren't you?"
I was dumbfounded. I'd said the words, before, and logically I realized that I was aroused by women, still, but the thought of touching one, or being touched in return, no matter what my physical body looked like, turned my stomach.
I even dry heaved.
"You need a trashcan or something?"
"I'm good."
"I can get one if you need it."
I punched her in the shoulder.
"Subject A hits like a girl. Further testing required."
"Willow, what are you out in the real world?"
"A marketing executive, if you believe me."
"I can't see it. You're too nice."
"And Marketing people are supposed to be mean?"
"I think I mean that they're supposed to be slimy."
"How rude."
We both giggled at this.
"So, are you going to drop this nonsense about being a man?"
"But…"
"No buts, Dawn. We had sixteen different types of guys in this house. Each one was a little different, but each one was distinctly male. We had sixteen…"
I tried to protest, but she ran over the top of my objections.
"…sixteen women in this house. Each one a little different, but even you are distinctly female."
I blushed so hard that I thought I would have to be glowing in the darkness. Willow just kept her arm around me.
"So, what was this about a shotgun?"
"I tried to commit suicide with my wife's gun."
"Your 'wife's' gun?"
"She was more into that than I was. She thought every home should have protection of some sort."
"But a shotgun?"
"Something about the pellets not penetrating drywall from very far away. I don't get it, but she was sure."
"Dawn, why did you try to kill yourself with a shotgun?"
"I was afraid of the pain of a knife. I lay in the tub for an hour trying to get up the courage to try the first cut."
"Have you talked to anyone about this?"
I shook my head and just sobbed harder. I was so broken that even Willow didn't want to help me. She was nice to everyone, and she wanted nothing to do with me.
"I'm sorry I took so much of your time. You need your sleep. Please, just leave me here."
"No, hush now. I'm not leaving you right now. I just wanted to know if you'd sought out professional help. You've made two attempts at suicide, and told no one about them. I'm really worried about you, Dawn."
"Four."
"What?!"
"It wasn't two."
"You're really bad at it, then, or you aren't trying hard enough. All since your wife died?"
"No."
"Dawn, you need some help, and I'm not sure that being in this competition is the best place for you. Of course being out of the competition on your own wouldn't be a good idea either."
"You can't Willow. I'll just tell some of my friends."
"Like you told them already? Dawn, you need help."
"I don't deserve help!"
The moment the words were out of my mouth, it was much too late to take them back. I wanted to, badly, but it wasn't in my power. I wanted so badly for someone to love me again like Aimee had. She'd been my rock and the center of my universe. She'd had the strength of character to keep us going forward. Sure, she was more masculine that I was, emotionally not physically, but that worked for us.
Or did it just allow my femininity a way out?
I thought through a lot of this during the next few minutes. Ideas and thoughts that had been disconnected finally gelled. This is called an epiphany.
"Thank you, Willow."
"For what?"
"I wasn't in a lesbian relationship, and never have been."
"I knew that."
"Never been with a female, either."
"What are you talking about?"
"If I'm female, I think my wife was male. She was the one who asked me out the first time, and she was even the one who proposed."
"That doesn't mean…"
"That was just the obvious stuff. She acted as protector. I felt safe with her there. She loved to hold me while we sat on the couch. I once tried to hold her, and it just felt wrong to both of us. Sure, there were moments when we took our traditional roles, but usually, I was the one who stayed home, while she worked. She was much more popular as an actor than I was."
"It sounds like you're sure, but keep in mind that you aren't a therapist. There may be some things about her personality that…"
"It is possible, yes, that I'm wrong, and thank you for pointing that out, Willow, but I know I'm right."
"Ok."
"No, it's a good thing, Willow. It really is. I've been discovering myself over the past year, and realizing that I'm more normal than I thought. Well, more average at least. I don't really know that I can be called normal.
"Willow, I know that you are worried for me. I think that for the first time I'm not worried about myself. I feel…hope. More than that I feel hopeful. I feel as though the worst, for me, is over."
"Well, if you're sure…"
"I'm not sure about anything, Willow, but this I can say: For the first time, I don't need to be."
I kissed her on the cheek and helped her to her feet. Then, giggling, we ran back to the room.
I'd only barely closed my eyes, it seemed, when everyone was up and moving around. I threw on my dressing gown, and went downstairs. Willow raised her eyebrow at me and gave me a meaningful glance. I just had to laugh at her.
There was the morning rant about going to a fast food place on her first date, and the obligatory laughter from Sean and myself.
I was content.
It almost seemed as though I were in a family. A horribly dysfunctional family, but a family none the less.
Not even Mark could ruin my good mood.
I smiled at all of the guys, and flirted a little with each of them. We were then asked to head upstairs to get ready.
The Firebird opening was considered black tie, so I went with the most severe black dress I had. I'd figured that there would at least be one formal dinner during the competition, so I'd gone with a black silk evening gown with a complete front, and uncovered shoulders. I even had matching black elbow length gloves. I'd considered going with a wrap, but decided against it.
I wore heels as well, but they were almost invisible beneath the flowing skirts of the dress.
"How in the hell do you keep your dresses looking so perfect?"
"I'd say practice, but I'd be lying. Mostly, it's a matter of watching what the wardrobe people do with the costumes, and mimicking them."
"You figured this out by watching other people do it right?"
"Well, that and I asked questions. I swear one or two of them thought that I might be trying to take their jobs away from them."
"But you were an Actress."
"There is more steady work for a great costumier than a middling ok actress."
I got a laugh at this, but Willow had a shrewd look in her eye. It would seem the two of us would be having another private conversation.
I walked to the head of the stairs, and Carlos was there in a tux to escort me down to the foyer. He'd worn baggy styles every time I'd seen him in the past, so I hadn't realized the type of body he had. The fitted tux showcased his built body, and I could feel the strength of his arm as he helped me down to the ground floor.
I had to keep telling myself to relax. For some reason, my libido was up, and I just wanted to jump him right there. It wasn't easy, but I managed to simply keep one foot in front of another. I expected to stop in the foyer, but he lead me right out of the building, and into the first of many waiting limos.
"Aren't we gathering in the foyer?"
"No, this is another timed event for the ladies."
"What? But our competition isn't supposed to be until tomorrow."
"They accelerated the schedule for today. Timed event to get to the restaurant, and then graded competition for the remainder of the evening."
"Are you supposed to be telling me this?"
"Probably not, but you already killed her in the appropriate dress and accessories department, and from what I've seen of you in the past, you likely have etiquette down."
"Appearances and be deceiving, Carlos."
"I doubt it. I'm sure you are the beautiful woman I see before me."
I laughed at him, but gave him a quick peck on the cheek to show him there were no hard feelings.
"I like you, Carlos."
"What's so funny?"
"I doubt you'd understand it if I explained it to you. Sort of a had to be there, sort of thing."
"You are one strange Chika, you know that."
"You have no idea."
"There's something I've been wanting to do since I first saw you at your second…the second audition."
"What is it?"
"You won't be mad?"
I had no idea at the time what he was talking about. "I make no promises, Carlos. Tell me."
"How about if I show you."
He kissed me. On the lips. I stopped him from letting his tongue join in, but it was pleasant other than that. It was more than pleasant.
Kissing Mark was like a nuclear bomb. Like eating or breathing. It was coming home after a long day on set.
Kissing Carlos was like high school. Like Prom. Like a first date. Like snow falling.
The first was pleasurable and completely took my breath away. The second would be pleasant, under the right circumstances. This really wasn't the right circumstance.
"Carlos…"
"I know. Everything I could have hoped for, but it didn't do anything for you."
"I'm so sorry."
"Story of my life."
"I really would have enjoyed fast food with you. That's actually where Sean and I went."
"What!?"
"After the balloon ride for show, we got MacDonald's"
"You are alright, Dawn. Don't let anyone tell you differently."
I blushed and smiled, and he put his hand over his heart as if mortally wounded. I laughed some more.
Why couldn't they have put some of that footage on the show? I would have loved to see that.
We got to the red carpet outside the building, and Carlos got out so he could help me up onto the curb. He then escorted me toward the entrance.
"Dawn Leary?"
I turned toward the reporter. I saw the E! on her microphone and my heart sank. I waved and tried to get by, but she waved me down.
"Folks, we have one of the most elusive, if not the most elusive, actresses ever to have graced the screen. Dawn Leary. Your first movie was a success at both Cannes and Sundance, and you were nominated for Best Actress in an Independent Film. So, are you planning anything else, Dawn?"
I smiled at the camera. "At present I'm actually a part of a reality television show."
"Really?"
"Yes, not sure if I can tell you the title…"
Carlos came to my aid here. Not sure if he was supposed to, either, but at least it let me off the hook.
"It's called the Real Prince Charming. Check your local listings for show times. It will be airing next spring."
"And are you one of the contestants as well?"
"Who me? Not really. They just wanted someone who wouldn't disappear beside the glory that is Dawn."
I blushed, and opened my mouth, "Carlos! He is being strangely modest. Yes he is part of the show, and my date for the evening. I am not currently working on any movies, but I've had some offers that I might take up after the show. If you'll excuse us, please?"
I smiled again for the cameras, and moved up the carpet. That one moment seemed to spark interest in who we were, and we were mauled by everyone from there to the end of the carpet. I smiled, I kept my answers short, and I laughed at Carlos' jokes.
All in all it was one of the best dates I'd ever been on.
Of course they skipped that in the actual episode as well. They had a specific character they wanted us to be, and they edited the footage to make us look that way.
Some people just plain look bad no matter what you do.
"You call this Coq au Vin? Take this back and do it right this time."
I shook my head at Angela's antics. I couldn't believe at the time that she actually believed that she could win acting that way. Knowing what I do now, I can't believe that she made it as far in the competition as she did.
I guess that as long as one of their actual choices didn't get eliminated, then they were fine leaving the people that Mark wanted there for drama.
Kevin looked mortified. He was trying to sink as low in his seat as he could, and doing everything in his power to not be noticed by anyone.
"Carlos, you feel like bailing Kevin out?"
He looked in the same direction I was, and got an evil glint in his eye. "Of course, Madam."
We got to the front of the short line waiting in front of the Maitre D'. "Your names?"
"Carlos Perez and Dawn Leary," said Carlos before I'd even opened my mouth.
"Of course, sir. I have your names here. If you'll…"
"Actually, would you mind too terribly seating us next to our friend over there, it seems that he is having problems with his date."
"But…"
"Please?" An entrée of pout with a side of puppy dog eyes was all that he could take. And that was Carlos. I was doing my best to keep from laughing at the whole thing.
They pulled up a couple of chairs for us, and Carlos sat me before going around the table to seat himself. Carlos will make some lucky girl happy someday. Just not me ever. I liked him, but I wasn't really attracted to him.
"Hello, Kevin, how are you doing today?" I asked with a bright smile. I showed a little too much tooth, though, and it makes me look really predatory in the clip.
He swallowed nervously, so I just purred at him, "Don't worry about Angela, she's more interested in sticking it to the Chef than in actually spending the evening with you."
Carlos chuckled at this, "She's right, man. Angela is a bit of a Bitch, capital intended, don't you agree?"
Kevin smiled at me, and then at Carlos.
"Yeah. She told me that if I embarrassed her, she'd castrate me, and then she proceeds to try to chat up every reporter on the carpet. I don't think it's possible to embarrass her."
"To be fair, Kevin, she is sensitive," I said, "At least you certainly look shocked to see me saying this sort of thing right to your face. Or was it acting as if you weren't even here that has your goat?"
She glared at me as I continued to smile at her. I hoped that the mics where good, since the three of us were talking softly, and our body language gave nothing away.
"You…CUNT!"
She didn't speak quietly. She stood as she was speaking and reached for me. Carlos, laughing so hard he was crying, grabbed her by the arm in an iron grip and wouldn't let go.
"I suggest you don't try it, Angela."
He gave her a meaningful look and then glanced in my direction. Angela paled, and began doing an impression of a fish drowning on dry land.
After a moment or two, a security individual came and escorted Angela out.
"Well, that was fun. How are you, Kevin?"
"Great, Carlos, thanks for saving me."
"No problem. You'd do the same for me."
"I doubt that Dawn would ever pick me."
"Why do you think that, Kevin," I asked him in a sort of sultry voice. Well, I thought it was sultry at the time.
He swallowed, took a drink, swallowed again, "Because you are likely the most beautiful girl in this competition."
"And…"
"And I'm not the most handsome guy."
"Really, Kev? I think your better looking than Carlos here, no offense, Carlos."
"None taken. I agree he is better looking than I am."
They both laughed.
"Tell you what. I'll pick you next, how about that, Kevin?"
He was speachless.
"What about Sean?"
"Yes, Sean is probably the best looking guy in the competition, and I have a huge lust on for him, but you are a nice guy. Well, you could grow a little backbone, but you are definitely nice. I'd be honored to go on a date with you."
He melted. We talked a little more, nothing important, before someone from the show came over and escorted Kevin out.
"You know, if you really want to win this competition, you couldn't go any safer than Sean."
"That's just it, Carlos. I don't need to win anymore. I've proven all I wanted to. I'm going to have a little fun from here on out. And Kevin needed a little morale boost. You saw what Angela did to him."
"You're crazy, you know that?"
"I've been told so in the past. If you'll excuse me, I need to freshen up."
Carlos stood before I could even begin rising, and I gave him a little curtsy in thanks. He was so special. Maybe…Julia? Yes, I needed to set him up with Julia. She needed a good man who didn't let the world get too serious.
I slipped into the ladies room, only to find Ilene washing her hands.
"Ilene?"
"Good, you finally came. This way, quickly."
She led me into the large handicapped stall, where I found Karl set up with his equipment.
"When I saw how locked down the mansion was, I started to worry a bit, guys."
"It's fine. That's part of the reason I gave you the bottle of glue. Here's another, by the way."
"The first was almost out. Thank you so much."
"No problem. Let me see?"
Ilene helped me out of my dress so that Karl could get a better look. I wasn't wearing a bra with the dress, but I did need to slip out of the lacy thong I was wearing on the bottom.
I felt like I was in some sort of fetish porn wearing nothing but my 4" stiletto heels and black gloves. I could tell that it was turning Karl on, anyway.
He poked and prodded, and I found myself squirming a bit. I'd needed to use the facilities before I entered, and it was getting to be more than I could bear.
"Karl, if you don't mind?"
I sat down quickly and did my business. When I was done I dried myself and stood up. He blinked at me a couple of times, then got back to work.
"You've done a great job with the edges. I can tell that some of the internal glue is giving way, but with the job you've been doing, there's nothing I can do about that. We'll need to get you taken care of fully in the next couple of days. Let me see what I can manage on my end."
"How about the north wall of the property. It is only three feet tall on the inside, and you can lean a ladder on the outside. I'll come out there tomorrow night."
Karl thought about it for a moment, and then nodded, "Ok, great. We'll have the full crew there to give your hair a trim and get you a full mani/pedi."
"Thanks." I said with a smirk.
"No worries. Now, get out of here so I can make use of this semi-private stall."
Ilene gave him a knowing look, so I exited quickly. I had no intention of joining in a ménage a trois with them. I washed my hands and left the bathroom. Yes, I remembered to get dressed…well almost. I left my panties with Karl and Ilene.
I was feeling a bit naughty, and figured that no one else would know.
Yes, I was horny, damn it. Very horny. I really wanted sex for the first time in my life.
Look, I'm not saying I never enjoyed sex, and I masturbated occasionally, but this was the first time I wanted to be taken and owned by another individual.
If I could be sure that Carlos wouldn't find out who I was, I would have ridden him as soon as we got back in the limo. As it was, I was just getting more and more frustrated.
I needed release, and I wasn't going to get it.
I didn't pay much attention to the rest of the night, hanging on Carlos' every word, and imagining what his dick would look like in my gloved hand. By the end of the evening, my own penis was sore from being bound in its little prison, and I just needed anything to give me some release.
Carlos escorted me to our Limo. As soon as he closed the door behind himself, I began inching my way toward him, and was about to put my hand his pants zipper when the door opened.
"Carlos, mind if I ride back with Dawn?"
"Not at all, Sean." His body language said something else entirely. I think that somehow he know that I was about to give him everything I wanted.
"Dawn, we need to talk," Sean said as soon as he got into the car and shut the door.
And then we were kissing, and it was more than I could ever have hoped for. My entire body was tingling and I just wanted to keep doing this. I threw all of my caution to the wind, and slowly began to grind against him.
His hands slipped up my dress and began to caress my behind, and slowly he began to work his hands forward. Warning bells were sounding in my head, but for some reason nothing but his touch mattered to me. I felt a rush of cold air, and he removed his hands and covered up my butt.
"What the hell, Carlos!?"
I kept grinding against him, and began to nibble on his ear. I wasn't listening to Carlos' reply, but Sean stiffened beneath me and then pushed me away.
"He did what?!"
"That's what I've been trying to tell you, Surge. Kevin spiked her drink with something. She's out of it. Lowered inhibitions and a spiked libido. She'd do anything at this point."
"No, just the two of you. Get in here. It's cold out there and I'm not wearing any underwear."
They shut the door on me. I tried to get over to the door to open it, but they were blocking it from the outside. I moved to the other one, and the same thing.
I have never been that frustrated in my life.
And there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. I couldn't get enough friction through the girdle to get off, and I couldn't remove the girdle. Oh, I tried, and I screamed and cursed, but nothing was happening that night.
After what seemed like an eternity I began to relax, and finally came more to my senses. I tried to assess the damage, and it was severe. There were tears in both my dress and girdle. It was obviously fake.
My world fell apart on me. Rubbing against Sean's pants had abraded the surface and ruined some of the coloration. Then I'd tried to rip it off, doing even more damage. My dress barely covered down there. I got into my clutch looking feverishly for something to pin my dress, and I found by black thong.
I slipped it on, and thankfully it covered the worst of the damage.
What was I going to do?
I was so embarrassed at my behavior. How could Kevin have done this to me? How could he do this to any girl. I knew I liked Sean, but I didn't want to have sex with him. Beyond him learning my secret, I wasn't the sort to have sex with people casually.
And I'd only known him really for about four days.
I rolled down the window to find Sean and Carlos still standing there.
"Would you boys mind letting me out?"
"We were waiting for your climax."
"I was frustrated in my endeavors. It pisses me off."
"I could help you there," Carlos volunteered.
"Not the time, Carlos," I replied.
"She's done. Let her out, Surge."
"Yes, let me out please, Sasha."
He opened the door and I climbed out.
"Oh man," Carlos said after I got out of the car, "you put your panties back on."
I slugged him in the arm a moment before Sean did the same.
"I'm joking."
"So, how long was I out of it?"
"About an hour. Surge, mind if I run?"
"You need to get back there for the ceremony."
"Got it."
"Ceremony?"
"Yeah, they are having an elimination ceremony today," Sean replied.
"Then that means…"
"No, you're safe. Kevin is guaranteed eliminated today. That means that the girl who placed last in the competition tonight will be joining him."
"Angela?"
"No, not Angela. Patricia drank too much and vomited all over herself and her date."
"Ouch."
"Or gross. That was my personal response."
I giggled at this.
"Wait," I said, "What about me and you?"
"We've been given a pass in this ceremony due to the 'traumatic' experience. I'm supposed to give you a ride back to the mansion and then see you into bed."
"Don't get any ideas, buster."
"I'd never dream of it, although if you'd kiss me a little…"
"Shut up, Sasha. I'm really not in the mood after getting brain f'ed by Kevin, I just need some time to myself."
"Ok…"
I didn't know exactly where he was coming from, but I could imagine getting rejected after a girl got me going. For a moment I considered finishing him off, just to give him the release that I myself couldn't get, but that would move our relationship in a direction I wasn't yet ready for.
I did give him a deep and lingering kiss on the lips before he pushed me back to come up for air.
When he went back in for a second go I laughed and pushed him back. "Now now, lover boy. I was just giving you a kiss. I am not ready for anything more, ok?"
"Ok," this time he was a lot less sullen in his delivery, and I just smiled at him. I knew I was giving him mixed signals, but I was a bit mixed up myself tonight.
The limo dropped us at the back entrance to the mansion, near the garage, and he lead me in through there. He turned his back while I changed. I wore the pajamas that I hadn't even unpacked until that moment. Partially because they hid the damage, which being naked wouldn't, and partially because I just wanted to hide my body away from everyone. He tucked me into bed, and then slipped out of the room after turning out the lights.
I lay in bed huddled over the sheets. I thought over everything that could have happened to me tonight. If Carlos had been a minute later…if Sean had been faster to seek out my sex…so many ifs and possibilities and I shook and cried.
All of the hope I felt after talking to Willow this morning evaporated into so much mist.
I cried until there were no more tears left in my and then I just sobbed to myself.
It took all of my acting ability to hold myself still as the other girls came in and began to get ready for bed. They saw me there, and their conversations trailed off. They left the overhead light off, and just moved around me.
The third episode look so different on TV. They built up the red carpet, and showed all of the clips from the speeches, that happened in a different place on a different night. They played with the lighting to make it seem as though all of the dates happened in the same place, at the same time.
That episode was pure Hollywood, as I like to say.
They glossed over Kevin getting kicked off the show, as criminal proceedings were still pending. Linda, his first date, pressed charges. So did fourteen other women, including a fifteen year old he still swears looks eighteen.
I've seen her in person. She doesn't even look twelve in my opinion.
Course that might simply be my anger over what he almost did to me.
When the rest of the house quieted down, I slipped down to the guest room that Willow and I had found the day before, and I slept alone in that bed. I awoke to the sounds of the rest of the house calling my name.
Apparently someone had thought that I might do something to myself.
"Guys, I just wanted to be alone. Is that too much to ask?"
Mark rushed over to me and threw his arms around me.
"We were worried about you, Dawn."
"Willow and I found that room yesterday when I woke up with a nightmare. We didn't want to wake the others while I was calming down. I figured that it was a fine place for me to get some time alone."
"I have a lousy sense of direction, Dawn. I couldn't find it again."
We had a laugh at her expense, and I gave her a friendly hug.
"It's alright, Willow. you did nothing wrong."
"Well, it's dates again today, and nothing sneaky like last night. Just dates," Mark said to general heckling.
"Is it alright if I don't go this time?"
Sean looked crestfallen at the suggestion that I wouldn't go on a date with him.
"Dawn, we're not asking you to have sex with the boy, but we need to move on as quickly as possible. Are you sure?"
"I am a bit raw, okay? I had no underwear on, and…" I blushed, only half of which was acting.
"Oh, shit. I was enjoying that so much it didn't even occur to me what my zipper was doing to you."
Then I was really blushing, and turning to run, but Mark grabbed my arm.
"Dawn, we know that you wouldn't have done that under normal conditions. Kevin's been arrested, and the police are linking him to a number of rape incidents in their books. If we would have known…"
"Dawn, believe me, if you'd feel more comfortable…"
"Guys, I know the show must go on, just no horseback riding to mountaintop picnics, Ok?"
Sean looked uncomfortable.
"Carlos, you and Sophie get the horseback riding."
Another piece fell into place. For some reason, Sean's dates were being chosen by the show.
Even as Carlos was giving some of the other guys fist-bumps, I watched Sean.
What was going on here?
Not in my wildest dreams did I ever come to the truth…well, not until much later.
I took Sean aside after the others had left, and I talked to him.
"Sasha, I like you, but these dates planned by other people really don't fit me, and I doubt they fit you."
"Dawn…"
"Don't give me that, Sean. You are a fast food guy."
"No, I just like burgers. Prefer to make my own…"
He shut his mouth, and I smiled. I'd gotten something the show didn't want me to know.
"Cook me a meal, Sasha. Any meal you want. That is the date I want you to give to me today."
"but it would take so long."
"Then I can go lay down again, by myself, and get some more sleep, okay?"
I gave him a peck on the cheek and went back to the room.
I'd actually dosed off by the time he brought some burgers to me in the room. Was sat there on the bed and chatted. I was a mess, no makeup, scary bed head, and wearing those comfortable pink fleece pajamas.
He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans.
We talked about nothing in particular, and simply got to know one another better.
Also, he was right, those were the best burgers I'd ever had.
The rest of the day was torture as I waited for everyone to get back, gather to talk about their dates, and generally gossip about the boys.
"How was your mountaintop, Sophie?" asked one of the other girls.
"I would have much preferred to be there with someone else."
Linda ducked her head and blushed, but I don't think anyone else noticed. Well, Willow might have, but that girl kept things close to her chest.
And more of the same.
"Sean made me burgers."
"He ordered out burgers?"
"No, he made them, unless someone else you know makes all of their patties by hand."
"Wow, girl. Getting a guy to cook for you. On a competition like this? Props."
When everyone else started getting ready for bed, I was still in my PJs, I slipped down to the room I'd stayed in. Someone had put my name on the door while I was gone.
And by someone, I mean Mark. He was waiting in the room when I got there.
"I thought you would feel more comfortable here for a couple of days."
"Thank you mark."
"This is the only keep for this room."
"Mark…"
"Yes, I know. I installed the lock myself today. I felt like I had to. I'm sorry. If I'd known."
"Don't, Mark. Linda was raped by him with that potion of his. You knew that happened."
"I thought…"
"You thought it was ratings gold when one of the girls had sex on camera? You make me sick, Mark."
"No, I wasn't in the booth at the time. When I found out I told them to turn off the cameras."
"Doesn't matter, Mark."
"I didn't know, Dawn. I really didn't know. I'm not the director, I just fund this thing."
"Then you are responsible for what happens here. Get out of my room."
"Dawn."
"Get out!"
I was seething by the time he finally left my room. This was so much more than I wanted to deal with. Before this I thought I might actually be falling for Mark. Sure, he was rich, but none of that mattered to me. Overall I thought he was a good guy.
Now I just wasn't so sure.
I cried for over an hour before the sounds of a waking hose fading into those of a sleeping one. Then I waited longer just sobbing to myself with my door locked.
I got up and went to the bathroom. I washed my face and then slipped out the back door. The ladder was already waiting for me when I got to the back wall.
"What did you do to my beautiful creation?"
"Date rape drug and a zipper. Any more questions?" I glared at Karl and he gulped.
He couldn't repair the damage so he carefully removed the remnants of my pseudo-gina and cleaned up the site around it.
It actually felt good to be myself again down there. That thought worried me, so I called my doctor.
"Hello, Dawn. How are you?"
"The contest started early. I've been here for a week, been slipped a date rape drug and tore my appliance all to shit. How do you think I am?"
"Do you need to leave early?"
"No."
"Tell me about it then."
"I like Mark, the producer, and Sean, one of the contestants. No, I'm pissed at Mark. I hate him actually, right now. I want to kill him for what he is putting me, I mean us, through."
"What is he putting you through?"
"He must have know that Kevin was slipping girls the drugs. Linda was acting out of character for her."
"How would he have known that?"
"She's a closet lesbian."
"He knows that?"
"Well, no. I didn't tell him, but someone else might have."
"Really?"
"Ok, probably not. Right now getting rid of one girl really doesn't improve our odds."
"So, they would save that til later, like you are?"
"Nah, I want to see if anything develops between her and Sophie."
"Sophie?"
"A not-so-closet lesbian."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. They make a cute couple."
He laughed on the other end of the line.
"So, how would Mark have known that Linda wasn't a hot-blooded heterosexual female unless someone told him?"
I opened my mouth to speak, and then shut it again, blushing.
"I take it by the sound of teeth snapping shut that you have no answer to that."
"No, I don't"
"Then give the guy a break. None of us are perfect. What did he do after he found out?"
"Well…"
He gave you a room, with a key lock, called the police on Kevin, let you sleep all day. Hugged you in front of everyone. You know, nothing much you cold-hearted bitch.
Sometimes I inner-monologue and I do really cuss myself out.
"He was a perfect gentleman to me and I threw it in his face."
"Then you better apologize to him, don't you think?"
"I guess."
"It's up to you, Dawn, but if you want him to take you seriously, then it's the thing you need to do."
We chatted for a few minutes more, and then I slipped back into the house.
I lay awake the rest of the night, wondering what I would do. Before dawn, and before everyone else got up, I slipped back upstairs, got undressed, and slipped under the covers. There was something sensual about sleeping in the, almost, nude. I appreciated getting back to this small part of my routine, and it helped me rejoin life in the mansion.
I walked into the interview room as soon as people started waking up, with my robe over my arm and nothing else on me.
Mark's jaw hit the floor, and his eyes kept trying to drift down my body, mentally I applauded the effort. I don't think he ever let himself go below my chin.
"Mark, I have to speak to you for a moment."
"Ok, Dawn," he said in a weak voice.
"I appreciate what you were trying to do, giving me my own room and all. But I have to decline. I'm here to win this contest, Mr. Shurtleff. I can't do that if you are treating me differently than the rest of the girls. I realize that Kevin's actions were beyond your control."
"What changed your mind?"
"I spent a lot of time last night thinking about it. I just thought I'd let you know. Also, I wanted to tell you one more thing."
"Really, what was that?"
I sauntered over to him, got up on tiptoes, and whispered breathily in his ear, "You're a damn good kisser."
I giggled and turned and left the room. He didn’t make a single sound as I left. When I got to the hall I put on my dressing gown, hiding behind the illusion of being clothed, and walked downstairs to breakfast.
A routine seemed to start at this point. There were so many of us there, and every two days two of us would leave. Through the entire thing, Angela, Willow, Sophie, Linda and I seemed to skip through every elimination as if it were meant to be. And maybe it actually was.
Before I knew it, the house suddenly felt empty, and it took me a couple of hours to realize why.
It was our 11th day in the mansion, and last night, the 8th woman had been eliminated. We had hit the halfway mark of the competition. There were only 8 women left upstairs, and things were about to really change.
"Soph, would you mind if I moved into your room?"
I squealed like a little girl. Angela was dumbstruck. Willow smiled. Sarah and Jane were outside the room and so didn't hear the interchange.
Oh, in skipping here, I forgot to mention something that happened on day seven.
Let's go back, well just to explain it really quickly.
Jane was pretty much a non-entity up until this point of the competition. Somehow she kept picking the winners among the guys. She kept her head low in the theater room, and I really thought someone was feeding her the information on how to pick the right guy, or at least the one who wasn't being eliminated.
We'd all finished our dates, whom with doesn't matter as he was eliminated on the eighth, and I saw Jane slipping away from the others. I followed her.
She slipped into the film booth and I watched from the door as she told the director something that one of the other girls had been doing the night before in the theater room.
I was confused by the interchange, until the elimination ceremony on the eighth. That was the woman who went home.
Something clicked for me in that moment. I had no idea of the criteria that they were using, but Jane was a plant to help them get the information they were looking for. Either that or she was simply looking out for her own hide. Either way, this wasn't the contest I thought it was. So far, blundering through, I'd been able to avoid any pitfalls, but I would not be stumbling along blind anymore.
Not that I would be taking Jane's out. No. I would just put my acting skills to the test. I went back through my mind, examining who had been eliminated, and who had not.
I would make this work for me.
I would win this damn contest and throw it in their faces.
No one makes a fool of Dawn Leary on national television. Apparently I do a good enough job of that on my own. Watch the gag reel sometime. They packaged it with both the BluRay and DVD releases of the show.
And yes, I get royalties from every purchase of the show, so buy it.
Now that my self-marketing bit is over.
I didn't tell any of the other women what was up, but my behavior changed, and I never told any of the others anything I didn't want the director to know in front of Jane.
Everyone except for Angela caught on. That woman was bullet-proof, I swear.
So, Linda moved in with Sophie. They celebrated immediately their joy in finding someone.
Remember how I mentioned that they are screamers?
I think Willow climaxed just listening to them. I had to leave after that as I was getting really cramped.
I kept Jane, and the guys, downstairs by relating a story about "Love's Sunset" that was absolutely true, and I can't tell you all on pain of death.
Let's just say it involves peanut butter and one of the actors.
I really liked his dog. He was such a sweet mutt.
That is more than enough. I was threatened with a libel suit if I printed anything about the story. Mark's lawyer looked over this and told me it was fine, since I never mentioned specifics. Or linked everything.
You read between the lines.
Yeah, I have a lot of stories like that. Sure, I would win the libel suit, but I don't want to spend time in court over something I'm doing for free. Now, if I ever write my actual memoirs, it will be a tell-all, and some of the things I could tell…
Getting back to the story, the other one, not the fetish one, a flushed Sophie finally came down to breakfast just before noon. Linda was a couple of minutes behind her, and a lot more composed.
I smiled at the two of them until Willow joined us. She was so disheveled that I was glad I left when I did, and all I could do was laugh. It wasn't long until Willow joined in and was laughing right along with us.
By the end of the day, Jane was getting desperate. She was lurking in corners and trying to listen in on us at the pool.
"Skulking is unbecoming, Jane."
"You, Bitch!"
She charged me and we both fell into the pool. I was drenched from head to foot, and I was almost undone.
Luckily, I wasn't in my bikini, or this story would end in a much different manner. My left breast came completely detached. I was wearing a slightly small bra, as all of my clothing had disappeared while I was in the shower after my date, and Willow was loaning me one of her Bra's while they looked for the culprit.
I felt it slip when we hit the water, and all I could do was think about getting out of there.
I was getting so close, and this could ruin it all.
I needed to speak to Karl, but he wasn't due until tomorrow night. There was no way that I could spend the next day covered up completely. Not without a good reason, and my mind couldn't come up with one.
I slipped out of the water, and wrapped in a towel. I was crying before I got to the house. I ran up to the bathroom, and tried to find my makeup in Jane's things. It had to be her, but it wasn't there. I had no bottle of Permanence to try to self repair.
I had nothing, and when I took of Willow's bra, my breast went with it. Somehow, the other seams were fine, but that one breast was completely off.
I locked myself in the shower, and cried.
"Dawn, honey, we're worried. Were you hurt?"
Willow was at the door, and I let her in.
"Dawn…"
I showed her my second skin breast, and she almost vomited. She controlled herself, and looked at my chest. "I really thought you were lying to me before. You weren't, were you."
I was choked up, and couldn't do more than shake my head.
"Don't you have any glue?"
"It was stolen with my makeup."
"What are you going to do?"
"I have no idea…"
"Hmmm. How about…put the bra and shirt back on. I'm going to talk to Mark."
She left the room and shut the door behind her.
I sat there, shivering, for an eternity of five minutes length.
Willow returned with dry clothing, and Mark in tow.
"Menstrual? You're kidding, right?"
I just shook my head at him.
"But, the director loves….your moves."
"He loves to have me naked on tape, you mean?" I put as much vitriol as I could muster.
"You're right, she's on," Mark said to Willow.
"I'm right here, you bastard," I said, only half acting.
"Ok, how long usually."
"A day but it's pretty heavy. I usually like to take two."
"Well, stay dressed if you want to, but I need you to join in with the rest of the girls."
I grumbled at him, but I was smiling and silently cheering as soon as he left the room.
I got dressed, in Willow's clothing, and left the bathroom. I really felt bloated wearing clothing that was one size too small, but it was either that or Jane's clothing which was a size too big.
The rest of the day was uneventful.
More than just the woman who married Karl.
And every piece of clothing, and each cosmetic, was a memento of that bond.
Someone in this house had stolen it away from me, and in so doing had violated one of my most precious memories as a girl.
It took me almost twenty minutes to relax enough so that I didn't start in on everyone, accusing and ranting until someone found my clothing for me.
I was almost exactly in the middle of heights and weights of the remaining eight women. I alluded to the fact last night, and I just wanted to relate it again in more detail.
I was bigger in the bust and smaller in the behind than willow, but not by enough that it really mattered. Jane was a little bigger in the bust and considerably bigger in the caboose than I was. Before our little tussle in the pool I just didn't like how loose her bra's felt.
After? I wouldn't have taken her charity for anything.
The other women were significantly taller, or broader, or skinnier, or whatever, than I was. So, I figured if it was one of the women, it was likely Willow or Jane who took my clothing. It could be one of the others, I suppose, but I assumed someone stole it because they could use it.
I went downstairs to get some breakfast, and Felice was flirting with a couple of the remaining guys. I noted that she was wearing a pretty pale green ribbed tee shirt a lot like one that I'd lost, and then went on to thinking about other things, and trying to act just this side of surly, leavened with apparent attempt to be cheerful.
Then it struck me. The shirt wasn't just like my shirt, it was my shirt.
I'd gotten a bit too exuberant in removing the tag that first day, and the shirt had torn a bit at the back of the collar. I'd ignored it since I usually wore my hair in one version or another of 'down' so it would be covered up. Felice had an A-line and the back of her neck was completely visible.
That was my shirt, or a reasonable facsimile of it.
I excused myself and slipped back upstairs to the common room, and opened Felice's bags. there was my clothing. All of it. My dresses were still locked in the closet in the locked room. I'd moved them there as soon as I realized that the rest of my clothing was stolen.
I was ready to take all of my clothing back, when I realized something very sad. I had about ten times the clothing that Felice did. She had huge suitcases, but they were mostly empty. She'd been somehow giving the impression of having more than she did through the entire rest of the competition.
I left the dressing gown, and a good percentage of the rest of my clothing, and a small note. Then I moved all of the clothing I was going to keep to the locked room. I wouldn't be taken advantage of in the future.
I hid out and waited for Felice to come back upstairs. She opened her bag looking for something, and I could see her expression fall. She picked up the note and read it and then collapsed there beside her bags.
"Hi, Felice."
"Dawn!" She was startled and scared.
"So, you read my note, it seems."
"This was your note?"
"Yes, it's mine."
"But…"
"I took enough to get me by, Felice. Ask me next time, ok?"
She broke down and began to cry, so I put my arms around her and comforted her. We sat there like that for a while. Willow came in and began to move toward us. I just shook my head and she backed off. She took position by the door, guarding the moment.
"Thank you, Dawn. You had so many nice things."
"I know. I have some really nice friends."
"Huh?"
"I didn't buy a single item that you stole. Every piece of clothing was a gift. I currently have no money to my name."
"What?"
"Dead broke."
"But, you're famous."
"You can't spend fame, Felice."
She laughed at that, and she hugged me back.
"Thank you for that, Dawn."
"No, everyone needs to feel special. That's why I left you the robe."
"I could never wear that!"
"Maybe not here, but try it. You don't feel as naked as you are. You may want to wear some nice underwear, though."
She blushed and nodded her head.
I was still uncomfortable, and wanted to just crawl back into bed and hide until tonight, but that wasn't an option.
The contest for the day was hostess. We had to host a mock party, one at a time, and deal with the actors who had been brought in to give us problems. All of us did pretty well, we got to watch the others through a two way mirror. The scenarios stayed pretty much the same, but the people initiating and the timing changed. It was hectic while you were in the room, but funny when out of it.
It was pretty obvious to me by this point that the girls were the ones really being judged, and not the guys, so I'd stopped really paying attention to what they did. I watched who I wanted to. Mostly Sean. He was really cute that day, as he was helping elder couples at a retirement community. Keeping them entertained and so forth.
I hadn't been able to get together with him for a couple of days, since I kept placing low in the rankings. I was wondering what was going on, as I thought I did well, but it was likely a ratings thing.
I was second in the rankings that day, so I picked Sean, finally. He kissed me when he came over to stand next to me. That was the first time that he'd done that for any girl in the elimination ceremony, and I blushed to the roots of my hair. That didn't stop me from enjoying the kiss.
I had a goofy smile on my face, as the footage clearly showed, and I had to hold onto him to keep from collapsing into a pile of goo on the floor.
Jane was eliminated along with the guy she picked.
I wasn't shocked by that. It seems that she ran out of gossip to spill about the other contestants, and so her usefulness expired. I wondered when Angela would outlive her usefulness, but that was something for another day.
The fourteen people remaining in the house sat around the lounge that evening.
"So, Surge, that was some kiss," Carlos said
"Yeah, man, almost seemed as though you were marking your territory," continued one of the other guys
"Nah, just letting her know I missed her."
"You live in the same house."
"On opposite sides, and I missed you too, Sasha."
He kissed me again to wolf whistles and laughter.
We chatted about inconsequential things after that, just relaxing in each other's company. Things wound down around eleven, and I climbed into bed and waited for everyone to get to sleep. As soon as they were gone, I slipped quietly out of bed and went over the back wall.
"Hello, Beautiful."
"Hey, Karl. We have a problem today."
"What problem?"
I took off my top and bra, showing him that one of the breasts, my breasts, had come unattached.
"What happened?"
"Another girl tackled me and we wrestled in the pool."
He got a glazed look in his eye and absently said, "be more careful."
Ilene came in the back of the truck where we were sitting, and I felt my heart drop. I'd given away the clothing she gave me, and didn't even think to talk to her about it.
"What's wrong, Dawn?"
"Well, um, one of the other contestants stole my clothing. When I found out she only have five outfits total, I gave her a lot of the clothing she stole, and told her that she could keep it."
"Ok."
"But, you gave that to me…"
"Dawn, it's just clothing. The time spent was more important to me."
I shook my head and smiled.
"Thank you, Ilene. I never knew I could possibly have a friend like you."
"You're welcome, Dawn."
We hugged until Karl interrupted us.
"Hey, I need to fix Dawn up so she can get back to the competition."
"Yes, Master."
They laughed at this, and I just smiled. Karl took more care getting my breasts in place this time. I hardly moved at all, even though I was so ready to feel like myself again. I began to imagine what it would be like to simply be me, whole, without the need for this makeup to complete me.
I began to cry as I sat there, silently.
"What's wrong, honey?"
"I want to be Dawn."
"But you are Dawn," Ilene replied.
"Only when your husband performs magic. I'm not really Dawn."
"Dawn is who you are inside. It isn't these appliances I made, or the clothing you wear."
"Or don't wear," I told him.
"What?"
"I've kinda been running around the house basically naked."
Both of their jaws dropped.
"I know, I never told you what was going on. You know that dressing gown I have?"
"Yeah, the one designed to be used over sexy lingerie," Ilene said.
"Well, I've been wearing that."
"Ok," Karl said.
"Just that."
His eyes unfocused and his breathing became a bit shorter. Ilene slugged him.
"You sure aren't shy are you."
"That's the thing. I've never been that shy of my body. I never saw the reason. As Donnie, it never mattered much as women are usually too polite to say anything. As Dawn, on the other hand, I love the attention. It makes me feel wanted. I know every eye is on me, and that they are either jealous or lustful or both."
"Dawn!?"
"What? It's true. I like to be lusted after. I want to satisfy that lust, especially if it's with some guy I like…"
Their jaws dropped open again, and I realized what I'd said.
"I'm not gay, so what do you want me to do? Pretend I am? I just can't see getting with another woman."
"What about Aimee?"
I was silent for a bit, and then finally found the words to explain my reasoning.
"Aimee was always more of a guy than I was. She asked me out on our first date, initiated all of our intimate activities, and even was the one who asked me to marry her."
"Wait, all?"
I smiled at the two of them, "well, I did dress sexy for her sometimes, you know, things that would get her to notice, but I never touched her first. I needed that from her. It made me feel wanted and secure. She was my man, more than I was hers."
"But you didn't look like a woman…"
"Because I think she was trying to keep up appearances for her parents. Did I ever tell you about the times that I wore the breasts home from the set of 'Transsexual'?"
"No, you didn't"
"She attacked me as soon as I came through the door the first time. It was another time that I ended up reading for 'Love's Sunset'. I know I tell everyone I just forgot they were there, but I was aware of them every minute. I kept thinking of Aimee's eyes when she saw them straining to get out of my button shirt. She tore the first shirt I wore.
I think it's part of the reason I gave such a good performance on screen. I kept imagining what Aimee would do to me when I got home."
"Call the doctor, Dawn."
Karl and Ilene went to a different part of the truck to take care of business and I called the doctor.
"You call at the strangest hours, Dawn."
"You know why, doctor."
"Call me, Tom."
"Doctor, what are the chances that I would be able to have breasts of my own?"
"Well, now there's a weighted question. Chances are you would never have more than a b cup through hormone therapy alone."
"That big?"
"Most consider that to be small."
"Doctor, I use a 26b bra. I find it ample."
"Ok, well, then, you might get the size that you want. Might. We'll have to see when you start hormone therapy."
"How much short term change would there be? Can I start now?"
"No, since I'd have to refer you to an endocrinologist."
"But…"
"No buts, Dawn. This situation is already irregular enough. Let's get you through this competition and then we can talk about where we're going from here. Hormone therapy is not necessarily the solution you are looking for?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Look, you are suicidal, or at least was. There are indications that estrogen therapy can lead to depression. Why would I want to prescribe depressants to someone in your condition."
"But that wasn't, I mean it was just…"
"A phase, a moment, a onetime thing? We both know that isn't true. You tried to kill yourself more than once, and we both know you suffer from depression."
"But, I feel so much better now that…"
"That could be true, and it could be simply a self-delusion. We won't know without further observation, both yours and mine."
"But, I'm safe here."
"Dawn, I will want you under observation when I begin prescribing you HRT. And by observation I mean someone who actually knows what's happening. You willing to leave the competition, or tell someone there what is going on? That even assumes you could get out long enough to actually see a specialist."
"But…"
"No more on this subject, Dawn. Get used to who you are now, and then we can talk about changing things up. Give it some time. Impatience is the best way to tell me that this is more a fad than something that is really in you."
I was pissed off and really wanted to…do something permanent to the good doctor. It wasn't fair, but there was little in this life that I could really say was fair.
Aimee dying wasn't fair. Neither was the fact that I was in this competition. I'm not saying that the one balanced out the other, but I had to be realistic here. There was both good and bad in life. There were subjective and objective versions of both as well.
I simply needed to, well, woman up and get through it.
I climbed back over the wall and made my way into the house.
The sound of voices carried in the quiet house, and so I crept closer to the source of the noise. Someone was in the interview room, even though I thought that it would be empty at this time of night.
"I did everything that was asked of me, didn't I? I did it for you," Angela said.
There was a muffled male voice. I couldn't hear what he was saying, and couldn't even tell who he was. He could have been any of the guys in the competition, well almost. He could have been Mark at least. Or Sean. Carlos was a possibility as well.
"But, we made a deal, baby. You said I would be there with you at the end."
A short response.
"Well, let me show you what I can do for you."
I'm sure you have a good idea of the sorts of sounds that emanated from the room. And for a lot longer than I would have expected from any of the guys in this competition. Course it could just be that I was the only one here who wasn't getting any, but hey, a girl can hope, right?
"See? I can make the ending something special for you. It's your money after all, and you should get to choose the winner, not some high and mighty…"
Angry response.
"I didn't mean it that way, baby. Really."
A cold ball formed in my stomach. Mark? I'd thought of that just to toss it out, but Mark? How could he?
The thought of our kiss was still fresh in my mind. It had only been about a week since it had happened, sure, but I thought it meant something to him. And here he was screwing Angela in the dark when no one could see him.
I wasn't going to be devastated over that man. I wasn't going to let him ruin the rest of this competition for me. So what if Angela was trying to subvert this competition?
I hid out of sight and waited for Angela to slip out of the room. I slipped in behind her, hoping to catch him red…handed as it were. I wanted to confront him with my knowledge, but the far door was closing as I entered and I didn't see anyone there.
I looked around the room, at the camera, at the couches, looking for any evidence of the tryst that had happened right here in this room.
The camera was pointed at the couches like normal, it's red light shining into the darkness. The couches seemed in order, if just so. One of the pillows was on the ground where it had been knocked by the gymnastics that had gone on here shortly before. No clothing or anything else was left behind…
The red light was on.
The camera had been recording.
I Walked behind the camera, and began to really look at it for the first time. It was digital, like most cameras it seemed these days, and in addition to a data cable leading off into the bowels of the house, there was a memory card as well. I stopped the recording, and began the playback.
Angela was sitting there on the couch, waiting, and then her eyes lit up. The conversation began, and she was talking to someone off Camera. I fast forwarded through the conversation until the guy came into the frame. I couldn't see any of him, really. Or that is to say I couldn't see his face. I got to see a lot of him.
And I have to say that they were both very flexible.
It really seemed like he was aware of the camera, even if Angela wasn't. She looked so smug and satisfied when she was done and almost whispered something.
I replayed that moment over and over before it finally came through to me.
"Dawn, eat your heart out." She dressed and left.
There was a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach. I sat down, barely able to see the screen. It couldn't possibly be…no. I wouldn't accept that it could be…
The man sat down and looked directly into the camera. "Well, there's another for the scrap book," he said with a smirk and that slight accent of his. He dialed a number on his phone, waiting for a moment or two for someone to pick up.
"Hey, Mark, yeah. Remember what we discussed the other day? Yeah. I have no problems with you removing Angela from the competition at this point." He waited as if listening, and then there was a sound from the direction of the door. He looked up startled and ran out of the frame.
Sean looked up startled.
I'd really thought that Sean was a good guy, but I'd been taken in by an actor of more skill than any I'd ever met before. He made my simple skills look amateur.
And I let him fool me. I let him make a fool of me. While I'd been trying to get further in this competition, he's simply been notching his shaft with the competitors that he could get with.
I had to know something.
I slipped into the guys room, and looked around for Carlos. He was right next to the door, and no one was near him. I put my hand over his mouth and nose. He woke up quickly, and so I moved my hand down a bit so he could breathe.
He focused his eyes on me, and I put a finger over my lips and then motioned for him to follow me.
I led him up to the sex room, I mean interview room.
"Carlos, did you know that Sean was banging the contestants?"
"Um..what?"
"Did you know that Sean was recording himself having sex with the other contestants?"
He blushed and refused to look at me.
"You knew and you didn't tell me?"
"I couldn't tell you. I signed an agreement."
"If I'd had sex with him in the limo, would I still be in this competition?"
"He doesn't make the call. His pare…I mean."
"What's going on here?"
"I can't tell you, Dawn. Really. I've said too much as it is. Look, Sean's a real scumbag. Don't give anything up to him."
"Not after I saw that tape. I'm sure that Angela has no idea how…" I shuddered.
She was degraded, in my eyes. He used her for his personal gratification, and she asked him to do it.
"Are you ok, Dawn?"
"No, I'm not."
"Would you be offended if I offered to hold you?"
I slipped into his arms and cried. I stayed there for a long time, and then I dried my tears on his shirt.
"Ewe, snot stains."
I laughed at that, and he chuckled with me.
"So, what are you going to do?"
"Win this competition."
"You know that includes a proposal from Sean, right?"
"Well, I have that covered."
"How?"
"Can you keep my secret? If it means getting back at Sean?"
I looked at me warily, and then slowly nodded.
"I'm physically male, Carlos."
"What!?"
He started to pull away, but then stopped. "This is a joke, right?"
"Next generation of movie makeup actually. I have a penis, Carlos."
"Ok, I'll just take your word on that. Are you gay, then?"
"Not any more than most of the other girls here."
"But you said."
"I said physically. I never said anything about mentally."
"Well, then, let me test something."
"What…"
I never finished the question. Carlos kissed me. I stiffened up until his arms went around me, and then for the briefest of moments I relaxed in his strong arms. Then I remembered where I was and what was happening. I turned my head away and tried to push back from him.
"Well, that answers the question for me. So, male, huh. Never would have guessed."
I took his hand and put it under my pajama top. I could feel his hand around the edges of my fake breast, but nothing on main bulk of it.
"You don't know how many fantasies you just ruined. I have wanted to caress those since that first day you came down nude to breakfast. And now that I have all the magic is gone."
"Well, I plan on getting real ones, so come back to me in a year or two and we can revisit this."
"You are such a tease, Dawn."
"I could…"
"No, thank you. I don't do the casual sex thing. Even if I would really like to right now."
"Neither have I. Only ever had sex with one person, and she is dead."
Carlos shifted uncomfortably.
"Sorry about my casual reference to death."
"Not that, dawn. It is the thought of you with another woman. A lot of guys have lesbian fantasies."
I blushed.
"Look, I found out after that Sean did put Kevin up to it. He was the one supplying Kevin with the stuff. Don't trust him, ok?"
"Thank you, Carlos."
"I hope I'm still in the house so that I can watch what you tell him live."
"I'll pick you as much as I can, ok? If I make it that far, then I can protect you at least half the time, right?"
I kissed him lightly on the lips and then got up to go to bed. There was a visible spot of wetness on his pants. I just smiled to myself as I left the room. I swayed my hips. I liked to give a good show.
Tomorrow, the war would begin.
"Mark?"
"Can I talk to you in private?"
It had been more than twenty four hours since I'd found out what Sean was, and what this competition seemed to be. I'd thoroughly enjoyed making a complete mess of his date with me, on accident of course. I can be awfully clumsy when I put my mind to it.
And a picnic in a rowboat on a wading pond doesn't need that much clumsiness to completely ruin.
"Of course…"
"You complete bitch," Sean stormed into the room. The veneer of his civility was beginning to crack and the ogre began to peak out from underneath. His right arm was raised, and he was twisting his body away from me.
Mark stepped between us, and put his hand on Sean's chest.
"What do you think you are doing, Sean?"
"That cunt completely humiliated me yesterday. I just saw…I mean I can't believe what she did."
"Sasha, I was just clumsy. I didn't mean to tip us over into that algae."
"And didn't get any on you?"
"I fell on you, Sasha. I felt so relieved that you were there to break my fall. I would have hated to fall into that slime."
Sean, thankfully, wasn't as fluent in English as he liked to pretend. I don't think sarcasm translates well.
Mark gave me a look that said 'that's enough,' and then turned to Sean, "You need to back off, Sean. And change your attitude. As things currently stand..."
Sean paled, looked at me, looked at Mark, and then turned and walked away. He was becoming a bit green around the gills as he did so.
Mark and I walked toward the Interview room.
Ok, I know: That scene was so much more tame than the one that appeared on the show. Artistic license. Also, if I really used some of the words they bleeped out, or just did something like:
"Dawn, you <bleep> <bleep>, you ruined my <bleep> shoes. They were Italian leather. Italian. Do you know what they cost you <bleep> whore!"
then the actual message would be lost in the, well, <bleep>!
And it is on the DVD anyway. Yes, the scene is accurate. I have no idea how they succeeded in keeping Mark out of the scene completely, but he was there, between us, the entire time.
"Dawn, I'd just like to say that it's been a pleasure to work with you."
"Mark?"
"It has. You are a consummate actress, and I love…" He blushed, and searched for the words for the moment. "I love your skill."
I was still uncomfortable around him. He always looked at me so intensely. It was as if his eyes would eat me whole, and I didn't want to be eaten.
"Dawn, please, I want you to know that I fought for you. I didn't want this for you. Really."
I began to feel the earth falling out from under me.
"I'm the next one to be eliminated, aren't I?"
"No, Angela is being eliminated."
"But…"
"Sean isn't the catch he seems to be, Ok. Just keep that in mind."
"What are you talking about? I really don't understand."
"You're smarter than that, Dawn. You know how Hollywood works."
It couldn't be that he was telling me…
"I wanted to let you know that you'll always have a home here, Dawn. No matter what happens. I know that I was too forward. I thought…it doesn't matter what I thought. Look, I want you to have this."
He handed me a box, with silver wrapping paper on it. He touched my hand and then left the room.
My heart was pounding, and I couldn't bear to open the box. I couldn't handle knowing what was in there. I felt so confused. I was sure that Mark was a part of this entire charade, but his behavior to me told a different story. He wasn't the man I'd thought him to be.
And then, how could he be.
"Hi, Dawn."
"Joyce?"
"In the flesh. How are you holding up?"
"As well as can be expected."
"Well, Mark told you I take it?"
"Told me what? As far as I can tell he just suggested that I was going to win this competiton. There are at least 4 more eliminations to go before that, aren't there?"
"Well, Linda and Sophie are an item, although I wouldn't have minded a try at either of them myself. Angela is out tonight. That leaves Willow, Sarah, and yourself."
"Right, and Willow…"
"Is dying."
"What?!"
"She was given six months to live almost a year ago. Day to day. Cancer."
"But Sarah…"
"You really think she will win this?"
I couldn't believe what they were telling me. All of this seemed to good to be true. The curtain was lifting, and there wasn't even a small man behind it. There was nothing behind the curtain.
No glitz, no glamour.
I was hollow inside once again.
I'd focused my life on winning this competition and here it was being handed to me on a platter and I no longer cared. Well, that's not entirely true. I did care. I cared a lot.
"What are you planning, Girl?"
"You'll find out in the end."
Angela was eliminated that night. Sophie and Linda came out two nights later.
Sean couldn't believe that I kept picking other people.
I made sure that the elimination after Sophie and Linda left, that I picked Carlos. Willow was eliminated then, as Sarah had picked Sean.
The house was so empty. None of my friends from the rest of the competition were left. Sarah and I were cordial, but that was the extent of it. I mean, she was a critic, and I was an Actor. And I happen to know that she'd reamed Donnie in the press on more than one occasion.
Carlos finally took me to In-n-out. Sarah got a 'Sean' date, that I never really cared to remember.
And then we were at the final ceremony.
"Ladies, as was stated at the beginning of this competition, you were here to pick the Real Prince Charming, but in actuality, he was here to pick you. Behind the scenes, the King and Queen of a small country in Europe have been judging you on your deportment, your character, and above all your appeal with the American people."
Mark stood there between the two remaining men. Sean, who was the obvious prince, in all of the finery of his station, and Carlos in a simple, in comparison, tuxedo.
"Today, we will be running the ceremony a bit differently. Sean, as the Prince of this story, it is up to you to do the final selection."
They'd dressed us in the most beautiful wedding dresses for this ceremony, and inside, I simply smiled at the pageantry of it all. This wasn't the dress I would have chosen for myself, but it was gorgeous. I'm sure you saw it, but let me tell you about it anyway.
The bodice was covered in pearls. The dress covered me from neck to floor, and included fitted sleeves that even covered the backs of my hands. The train really was as long as it seemed. And underneath, I was all me.
I knew after my news that they'd want to verify, and the easiest way was to show them my real body.
I couldn't help but smile as Sean walked stifly over to me.
"Dawn, you are a gorgeous creature, and I have come to feel deeply for you. You would make me the happiest man in this world if you would agree to be my wife."
"Sean, I appreciate the sentiment, but I can't marry you."
"You have to, you signed the document. You are under contract to wed me if you win."
"Well, seeing as I'm a man, I don't know how that's possible."
Carlos busted out laughing. Sarah fainted before Sean could turn her direction. Sean, well, he was completely shocked, and then something occurred to him, and he turned a shade of green.
"Mark, we have to stop this. You can't let this show broadcast on television."
"Too late for that, Sean. They aired the first episode last week."
Mark was smiling. I'd assumed that he would be as shocked as Sean, but no. He was prepared for this.
"Sarah…"
She was coming around.
"Oh, hell no. There's no way I'm being your runner up. Dawn won this contest, and it serves you all right. He belongs to this mad house."
"Sarah?"
I stood above her, and she glared up at me. I offered her a hand and helped her to her feet.
Then I slapped her so hard she fell back to the ground.
"I may have been born male, and may physically still be so, but I know who I am, and that isn't a man. I said it earlier for shock value. I am an ACTRESS after all you filthy bitch."
I was so pissed off at her. Sean helped her to her feet, and they slipped off into another room. For another of his private interviews I assumed.
The director came out of the other room, fuming, "Dawn, there's no way you're male. We checked you out. Every contestant. You wore a thong!"
I lifted up my dress for him to show him my much abused, but still intact, penis.
"Don't believe everything you see, Lyle," I said as I twitched my skirts back into place, "one of my best friends owns 'Washed Out Bridge.'"
"There is no way."
"Get her off the set, Lyle. You've had your proof, and I think she needs to get changed," Mark said,
Right. Fairytale over. Time for Cinderella to wake up.
I thought he might think that, after what he was sure was me leading him on...
I made my way to my room, and began to pack. The silver box peaked out from amongst my clothing, still unopened.
I picked it up, and heard the familiar clicking sound inside. All my dreams were shattered. My life was over. I brought my arm back to throw the box against the wall.
How could he not stick up for me? I was Dawn. I really was Dawn.
I'd prepared that speech to Sarah, meaning to give it to Mark. Everything had been so mixed up. Nothing went the way it was supposed to.
I carefully opened the box. I was ready for the further disillusionment that it meant now. Nothing was important if I wasn't going to make it into next week.
There was an ornate key on a golden chain inside the box. I pulled out the key and broke down and cried. I'd lost everything that really mattered to me. And Mark, before he knew, offered me his heart.
I'd never meant to hurt Mark in all of this. Through the tears, I noticed a card at the bottom of the box.
Donnie,
I wanted to thank you for everything. You are the most wonderful actress I have ever seen, and Joyce should already have told you this. I know that you probably don't care for me the way that I care about you. I can take that. I don't want to put any pressure on you either. I would still love to cast you in one of my movies. Let me tell you that I won't ever be there on set. I respect you too much for that, and if you want nothing to do with me, I understand. I would love to get to know you better, in a less pressurized environment.
If you can forgive me, let me know at the ceremony on the final day. If you can't I'll understand…
I couldn't finish the note. I was crying and I knew that my heart was broken. My pride had not allowed me to open that box, and now the best man I had ever known thought that I hated him. I tried to stop, but all of the women I'd relied on were gone. No more Willow or Sophie or Linda.
I sobbed until I had no more tears, and the pain in my chest just didn't subside.
"Mark really wants you to feel at home here, so he has gone to his beach house until you're ready to face the world."
"What have I done, Joyce?"
"Won a national competition and admitted that you're transsexual."
"No, to Mark. I love him, and just didn't want to really admit it to myself until today."
"So, why didn't you let him know…"
"I just barely opened the box. When did you tell him?"
"What? I promised you. I would never have told him…"
"Dawn, you ready to get put back together?"
"Why does it matter now?"
"I thought that you and Mark…"
"Karl?"
"Well, um, he sort of followed you one night and accosted us in the van afterwards."
"You told him!?"
"He figured it out. Apparently he knows who I am. It wasn't that far for him after that to figure out who you were."
"Not are?"
"You actually want to go back to being Donnie?"
"Of course not."
"Then let's get you put back together. I set up an appointment with the endocrinologist and then the good doctor wants to visit with you in person, and you know."
"Let's do this."
I still wanted to be a woman, and I would be. Even if I could never apologize properly to Mark, I could at least go through the changes I needed to become the woman I was inside.
I got my first shot of estrogen, and went to speak to my doctor.
I don't need to tell you everything we spoke about that day, since I've already shared most of it here with all of you.
It was late when Mark's personal limo dropped me off at his front door.
I walked through the empty house and just felt more and more lost. I had pissed away every wonderful thing in my life, and Mark was just the next in a long line of my failures.
I went to my room, my single room on the first floor and slipped into bed. I felt arms come around me and just cuddled into them and cried. I wanted this and it wasn't…
"Shh, it's ok, Dawn. I'm here."
"Mark!?"
I kissed him for the first time since we'd met in the Interview room what felt like an eternity ago.
His hand slipped under the covers and touched my relatively naked body. He avoided everywhere with an appliance He caressed my body and I thrilled at his touch. When he touched my behind I tensed up.
"Dawn…"
"No, Mark. I can't I'm not really a girl. I just look…"
"Dawn Leary. I love you whatever body nature or science gives you. I want to make love to you. If you don't want me to tonight, or ever, then I can live with that. However…"
I stopped him talking with the only things I had available: My lips and tongue.
You don't need to know the rest of the details of that night, but I gave pleasure and received it.
For those that follow the trade journals, yes the two of us recently got married. And yes, I am physically and legally a female now. Mark is not gay, and that is something I am very pleased with. He is one of the most inventive…
Like I said, you don't need to know this.
I'm acting again, and I have two movies coming out this fall. I am listed as Dawn Leary in both of them. It's of course my legal name as well as my SAG name.
I wish this were always the case, and often it isn't, but sometimes, the best things happen to the people who deserve it. Willow is still alive at T+three years. The doctors have no idea what keeps her going. I like to believe that it is positive mental attitude.
She was my matron of honor. If not for a pesky thing like needing to legally be recognized as female, I would have been married before her. Well, she and Carlos make a beautiful couple.
I was her maid of honor, though, so it wasn't all wasted. I threw her a bachelorette party to be remembered.
The one she threw for me was even more epic.
Now, if only I can convince Mark to cast me in the leading role for "Sorority House Murders VI."