Jessica took a deep breath as she tried to relax in the aeroplane’s plush, comfortable seats- though the discomfort her clothes were causing and the stares she was receiving from the other passengers weren’t making the task of relaxing any easier. Next to her, her Scottish lover was suffering from the same levels of discomfort as she fidgeted in her seat.

“Feel like everyone’s staring,” Paige whispered to Jessica as the aeroplane’s safety briefing continued in both English and French.

“Oh whatever, let them stare,” Jessica snorted. “There’s nothing any of them can do.”

“Double turn!” The teacher yells, and I comply, pirouetting twice on my right leg. “Point your back leg… And pose!” I throw my arms up in the air and grin widely as the music finishes, earning- alone with Nicole on my left, and Suriya on my right- a rapturous round of applause from the assembled students.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” I say happily, clinking my wine glass with that of the sexy guy opposite me. I’m dressed in a short, slinky black dress, translucent seamed stockings and extra-high heels (much to my boyfriend’s chagrin), whilst the handsome man opposite me is wearing a smart suit with a bright white shirt and a plain grey tie.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Stuart says, sipping his wine with one hand whilst his other hand links his fingers with mine. “This is absolutely PERFECT.”

“I shall see you on Tuesday!” Hannah giggles as she drops me off outside my former college. “Give my love to the rest of the ‘Teen Angels’. Oh- and enjoy your long, loooong weekend!”

“Will do!” I laugh, straightening my short skirt and opaque black tights as I step out of the car and stride into the dining hall of the large building. I breathe a sigh of relief that my work is over for another week- not that I don’t still enjoy it, of course, but it IS hard work, and I’m REALLY looking forward to three free days to spend with my friends… Especially Sarah.

“Stop crying!” The middle-aged man barks as the electric clippers shear my head clean of the hair I’d been growing over the last twelve months. I gulp and blink my eyes, but as lock after lock of light blonde hair tumbles in front of my face, I can’t control my emotions. My life, just my hair, is tumbling down in front of me.

Once the haircut is complete, I look at myself in the mirror and I want to scream. Looking back at me is undoubtedly the face of a pre-teen boy. A pre-teen boy with a cute face, but a boy nonetheless.

“Project more!” Mrs. Ingram urges me. “We want to be able to hear you all the way at the back of the class!”

“I will never let you manipulate me into taking a stand against my own father!” I say in a loud, forceful voice to the girl stood opposite me. “No matter how much you threaten me!”

“I hope you’ve all enjoyed your first term,” Mrs. Houghton announces to the whole of the year as the bell rings, signifying not only the end of the school day, but the end of school entirely for the next two and a half weeks. “I hope you all have a happy Christmas, and I look forward to seeing you back here in January, refreshed and raring to go for another term!” With the assembly ‘dismissed’, we all file out of the hall in neat columns, though once we reach the car park outside the school, we become a lot LESS orderly!

“To Viks!” The five of us toast, clinking our glasses of champagne (or in Charlotte’s case, non-alcoholic champagne) together.

“Seriously, you guys,” Viks complains, “my birthday isn’t until tomorrow!”

“Yeah, but we’ve got to share you with a BOY tomorrow,” Hannah giggles. “Tonight it’s all girls, girls, girls!”

“And on that topic,” Mary giggles, “Jamie, where the hell did you get those amazing nails?” I laugh as I wave my extra-long fingernails for the girls, highlighting the shiny black polish that’s been applied to each one.

I straighten my short black pencil skirt and my clingy, translucent tights as I jump in the back of the pink London cab. I slip my stiletto heels off and stretch my tired toes, satisfied that a hard day’s work is complete.

“Don’t let those toes get too comfortable,” Viks teases as she gets in the driver’s seat. “Aren’t they going to be supporting your entire bodyweight later tonight?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” I mock-groan. “I mean, it’s not that I DON’T like ballet, it’s just- haven’t I worked hard enough today?”

As the classical music reaches its crescendo, I lower myself from pointe and dip into a perfect ballerina’s curtsey, spreading my voluminous tutu beneath me as the crowd roars with rapturous applause.

“Three cheers for the birthday girl!” Stuart yells from the audience, making me blush as I stand back up.

“Hip hip!” Stuart yells.

“Hooray!” The crowd enthusiastically responds.

"Who needs BOYS anyway?" Krystie- my ex-girlfriend- yells over the noise of the crowded Parisian nightclub she, Jamie and myself have found ourselves in.

"I'll try not to take that personally!" I yell back, handing the two girls their drinks and escorting them back to their table in the club's VIP area where Krystie immediately raises a toast.

"To being single!" The tall, attractive woman says. Jamie, Krystie and I clink our glasses together, but I can't help but comment on the surrealism of the scene.

“Ugh,” I moan as my alarm clock wakes me at 7am for what feels like the millionth consecutive day.

“Morning babe,” Sarah tiredly moans, wrapping her arms around my naked body and giving me a slow, soft kiss on my neck.

“Hey,” I reply, blinking the tiredness out of my eyes. “Looking forward to today?”

“Been looking forward to it since I left in June,” Sarah giggles. “Just wish you were coming with me…”

“I know,” I sigh. “Kinda wish I was coming too…”

“No you don’t,” Sarah says, giving me a playful push. “You know EVERYONE would kill to have your job!”

"...And that's about it for this half of the term!" Mrs. Ford says, prompting everyone in the class to whisper excitedly and put away their textbooks. "See you all in a week!"

"So cool!" Nicole enthuses as we leave the classroom.

“Seventeen!” The assembled guests yell. “Sixteen! Fifteen! Fourteen!” I stare over at Sarah, who is smiling happily, much to my relief.

“Thirteen!” The guests continue. “Twelve! Eleven! Ten!” I look to my left at Katie and Lauren, who are both excitedly bouncing up and down in chairs.

“Nine!” The crowd yells, working itself into a near frenzy. “Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One!” Dannii- the most excited person of any in the packed restaurant- takes a deep breath and, in one go, blows out the seventeen candles on the rich chocolate cake placed in front of her.

I take a deep breath to steady my nerves and wring my hands together to stop them from shaking.

“Remember,” the studio researcher says, placing a calming hand on my hands. “Just stay calm, answer each question you’re asked clearly. Everyone out there WILL be on your side. And don’t forget to smile!” I nod and take another deep breath, returning the young woman’s comforting smile. I take one final second to prepare myself before hearing the words that tell me that preparation time is over.

“Should anyone here present know of any reason why this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony,” the vicar says with a warm, happy smile, “speak now, or forever hold your peace.” Sarah and I- both dressed in identical, beautiful wedding dresses, our hair tied into elaborate matching hairdos and our make-up immaculately applied, stare at each other and smile, but almost immediately, the silence in the church is broken.

FIVE MONTHS LATER

“Oww…” Charlotte moans as I pull the laces of her corset ever tighter. “Whose stupid idea was this again?”

“Yours,” I laugh as I give the laces one final pull before tying them in a bow.

“I wish I had less imagination,” Charlotte laughs as she pulls on the remaining layers of her elaborate Victorian-style ball gown. “Is it at least closed at the back?”

“Of course,” I say with pride. “If your corset-maker is to be believed, we’re both now proud owners of 20 inch waists!”

My name is Claire Olivia Milton. Or at least… It used to be.

I was born on 2nd March 1990, the second daughter of three, to two loving parents. My father is a manager at a big investment firm, my mother- 15 years his junior- was his secretary until she fell in love with him, got married and had three kids. Growing up I wanted for nothing- I lived in a big house, was spoiled rotten, went to the best schools… And yet, from a very young age I knew something was wrong, not with my family, but with me.

THREE MONTHS LATER

“Stop being so nervous!” Dad admonishes me as I nearly hyperventilate on the back seat of his car. “This is something you want to do, it’s something you know you’ll be good at, so the sooner you relax and start enjoying it, the better.”

“I know, I know,” I breathe, fanning myself with my hands. “It’s just- it’s just all so new!”

“Well get used to it, because that’s life for you,” dad states bluntly.

"Tighter," I order, eliciting a cry of exasperation from the person behind me.

"It's already closed at the back, it won't go any tighter!" Charlotte sighs in desperation.

"Are you sure?" I ask, gripping my dresser for support as I gasp for air.

"Positive," Charlotte replies. "If it went any tighter you'd probably faint mid-meal! Of course, if that's what you're going for..."

"This is date number three," I explain as Charlotte ties off the laces on my tightest under bust corset. "You KNOW what that means..."

My palms are clammy and my breathing is erratic. I'm a bundle of nerves, but that's okay- most of the other people in this room are as well. I'm currently sat in a large hall with 200 other 16 year olds sitting my final GCSE exam- maths, a subject I'm not terrible at but not exactly great at either.

I pout my deep red-coloured lips for the camera as I take shot after shot of me in various poses. My dark brown hair has been styled into a feminine bob, framing my immaculately made-up face.

"Come onnnnnnn..." Sarah pleads with me, grabbing my free hand and trying to distract me from the task at hand.

"Nope," I say with a smile as I look at the increasingly-beautiful girl in the mirror in front of me. Smiling, I dip Sarah's mascara brush back into its tube and apply more of the wonderful make-up to my eyelashes, increasing their volume with every single stroke.

"It's my make-up, I get to apply it on you!" Sarah orders, pouting in my direction. "Come onnnnnnn, I haven't put make-up on you in weeks!"

I swing my hips to the beat of the music playing from Sarah's music centre, following my girlfriend's lead, the two of us giggling at our private little 'party'.