THE FOLLOWING DAY

I open my eyes and stare around at the strange room. It's undoubtedly a man's room- very formal, with hardwood wardrobes and chests of drawers lining the walls. For a moment I don't remember where I am, but all of a sudden, yesterday's events come flooding back to me. With a sigh, I throw back the covers and walk into the en-suite bathroom. I smile as I look at the package waiting for me on the counter. the label has a very simple message written on it- 'with all my thanks and love, xxx Charlotte'. I look up into the mirror and, upon first sight of my face, I smile.

"Hello, Jamie-Lee Burke," I purr at the pretty girl staring back at me. Brushing my hair out of my face with my red-tipped fingers, I relieve myself before showering, and after drying myself, open the package waiting for me. Inside is a clutch of cosmetics- expensive-looking foundation, eye shadow, eyeliner, blush, mascara, false eyelashes, and about eight different lipsticks of all colours. After making myself up, spraying on some perfume and ensuring my look is flawless, I pull my new fluffy pink dressing gown over my new satin nightie and slip my red-tipped toes into a pair of pink slippers, wandering downstairs to where Charlotte and Keith are already waiting at the kitchen table.

"Hey, there's my BFF!" Charlotte yells as she wraps her arms around me in a girly hug that I eagerly reciprocate. "Hope you enjoyed your lie-in, you're gonna need it with what we've got planned today!"

"Cool!" I enthuse, taking a seat as Keith serves me my breakfast- a simple bowl of cereal and a piece of fruit. I exchange a knowing glance with him before concentrating intently on my breakfast as he sits down next to Charlotte, slipping his hand underneath her tiny robe and caressing her bare thigh.

So, as you might be able to infer, I took Charlotte up on her offer. How could I not? Over the last five days I came to realise that becoming a girl was the best thing that ever happened to me. I was a girl. Plain and simple. Now, I can proudly say I am a girl. It's not like I was the manliest man in the world beforehand, after all.

After Charlotte finished hugging me once I'd told her my decision, she set about her plans on how to bring Jamie-Lee Burke into the real world. She knew a doctor who could start me on a course of hormones that would eventually lead to surgery- that would be where we were going today. First off was the matter of where I'd live- rather than be alone in her big house, Charlotte agreed to let me move in on a 'temporary ongoing' basis, rent-free as a token of her gratitude. I'd stay in her father's larger bedroom until she'd had the time to sort everything out (I'd eventually move into Charlotte's room). We contacted the necessary departments- once Keith had left, naturally- to get my name and address- and gender- legally changed, before calling up Ellen and dealing with the most important matter for the day- shopping!

We spent almost  £8000 of my  £250 000 fortune on that first day building me up a full wardrobe. Whilst not a patch on Charlotte's, it was still more clothes than I'd ever owned in my life. First came a whole drawer full of underwear, mostly bras and panties (which yes, were mostly thongs), tights, camisoles, some stockings & suspenders- at Charlotte's insistence, given my reaction to her silk stockings!- and a couple of sexier, more indulgent pieces like bodystockings, corsets and teddies. We also picked up a couple of nighties and robes- Charlotte being rather keen to reclaim her own wardrobe from me (She said it was bad enough she had to lend me a skirt and top to wear out, the cheeky madam)! Next came the clothes. Girly tops and t-shirts (and a couple of everyday bodysuits) were bundled into my drawers along with cute hoodies and tight sweaters. I must have bought over forty skirts yesterday, from cute minis to formal pencil skirts (with matching jackets) to long, flowing ones. A couple of pairs of denim hot pants and two pairs of hipster jeans also went into the shopping bags, but I can't see them getting that much wear. Dresses galore too- cute everyday dresses like pinafores, shirt dresses and sweater dresses, tiny clubbing dresses, formal dresses like the one of Charlotte's that I had worn to church and long, expensive evening gowns. Of course, matching handbags were bought with each outfit, as were shoes- over fifty pairs of them! I had ballet flats, formal office-like heels (mostly stilettos, of course), knee-high boots, some thigh-high boots, strappy sandals- and of course, three pairs of Ugg Boots! We stocked up on accessories, cosmetics, perfume and jewellery- Charlotte insisting on making up a story behind every piece of jewellery I was bought.

Of course, Charlotte treated herself to several thousand pounds' worth of clothes too, but can you really blame a 19 year old girl who's just become a millionaire for indulging a little?

We eventually arrived home- which I can now say without inverted commas!- at 7pm, not having even stopped for lunch. If the shops had remained open, we'd still be there now. The rest of the day, I modelled every single piece of clothing we'd bought for Charlotte and Ellen, before crashing into bed at 1am.

"I'm going to go and get dressed," Charlotte announces, standing up and giving Keith a quick kiss before leaving me alone with man I've fallen in love with.

"So," Keith says awkwardly, the two of us unable to meet each other's gaze.

"So," I reply.

"The other night..." Keith asks quietly. "Was it- was that- was it all part of the act?" How do I reply to that? If I confess my love to him I'm in trouble. It'll get back to Charlotte almost immediately and no matter how grateful she is to me, she won't take that at all. I wouldn't put it past her to blow my cover to him...

"Yeah," I whisper, trying desperately to disguise the sadness in my voice. "I had to- I had to make you believe I was her."

"But you called me round here," Keith probes. Shit, I did, didn't I?

"I- by which I mean, Jamie- needed some company," I explain. "I couldn't talk to quote-unquote daddy or to Ellen, you were the only person left on the list. It's not like I expected what happened to happen."

"So you just wanted a friend and instead you got a lover?" Keith asks, seeming almost offended.

"'Fraid so," I reply with a sympathetic smile. Keith simply shakes his head. Yesterday this action would've made me nervous that I'd blown my cover, but not anymore- I have no cover to break. Jamie-Lee is whoever I decide she is, so I sit up straight and calmly wit for Keith's response.

"I'm sorry I put you in that- um- position," he says with a beautiful sympathetic smile of his own.

"I'm sorry for all the confusion I- we caused," I reply, offering him my small hand to shake. "Friends?" Keith smiles a broad grin- even more beautiful than his last smile- and accepts my hand.

"Friends," he says.

"Jamie! Come on!" Charlotte yells down the stairs at me. "We've got to pick up those forms today, then you've got your appointment!"

"Gotta go," I say with a goofy smile.

"See you round, Jamie," Keith says, bringing a sad smile to my face as I turn my back on him and head out of the kitchen to get dressed.

Rather than copy Charlotte's overtly feminine look, I go for a different style. Opting for a pair of briefs instead of a thong, I then pull on a pair of thick black tights and a camisole. I pick out a mid-thigh denim skirt, a cute purple hoodie and some comfy ballet flats before grabbing a casual shoulder bag and heading downstairs to be 'inspected' by my new BFF.

"Really?" Charlotte asks, almost condescendingly. "Flats instead of heels?" Naturally, Charlotte has a pair of 4" stilettos underneath her long legs, which are themselves almost completely on show, encased in a pair of sheer black tights underneath a very tight butt-hugging miniskirt.

"I thought you wanted a BFF, not a clone," I retort, folding my arms and pouting.

"Oh, whatever, you're still learning," Charlotte says, grabbing my hand and leading me out to the taxi outside (neither of us drive yet).

Our first stop was my local dole office, to cancel my no-longer needed benefits. I sat before my usual officer as Jamie-Lee for the first time, and to my surprise, she didn't bat an eyelid- either this thing happens all the time or she's very professional. Either way, I have the forms needed to change my name by deed poll, so that Jamie-Lee Burke can be 'legally' born. And Charlotte looked extremely relieved to leave the dole office. After handing back the key to my pokey little bedsit to my landlord- who looked a HELL of a lot more surprised than anyone at the dole office- we headed to our next, most important stop.

Our 'appointment' that Charlotte mentioned earlier was with a doctor who specialised in gender dysphoria- aka transsexualism. It wasn't too hard to convince him that I was suffering from it, especially as I'd eradicated just about every masculine trait I'd ever had over the course of the last six days. To my chagrin, I discovered that whilst I could begin hormone treatments almost immediately, surgery and being able to legally change my gender to female would take another two years- which would severely hamper my ability to find a job on my own. Fortunately, Charlotte stepped in, assuring me that she'd use her contacts to ensure I'd always have a steady stream of modelling work. It was only then that I realised that, despite her snobbery, I really did have a BFF in her.

"Thank GOD that's done," Charlotte announces as we step out of the doctor's office at 12:15pm. Almost immediately, her phone is in her hand and she's texting away.

"Who are you texting?" I enquire as we walk down to the nearest taxi rank.

"Ellen," Charlotte explains with a smirk. "We've got all the boring stuff out of the way- no offence intended, of course- now we can go shopping!" A broad grin spreads across my face that Charlotte eagerly mirrors.

"Now you're talking!" I giggle as we get into the nearest taxi and head off into the city centre...

Our first stop is the nearest swimwear store. Charlotte's house has a pool and as her guest, I have free use of it, so I'm going to need bikinis- eight of them, to be precise- as well as a couple of cute one-piece swimsuits and sarongs.

With Ellen in tow, our next stop is Charlotte's favourite dancewear store. Her father may have been a murderer, but he was right that if I wanted to be a model, I needed to learn grace and poise and ballet was the way to do that- which Ellen was only too happy to give me remedial lessons at. Several leotards of all colours and styles went into our shopping bags, along with soft tights, satin ballet slippers, and even a pair of bespoke pointe shoes- which, according to Ellen, would give me the necessary incentive to study hard, so I'd eventually get to dance in them!

We eventually broke for a cup of coffee at about 2pm- after letting Ellen get back to her teaching- which gave me the chance to breathe for the first time in about 36 hours! I took the opportunity to ask Charlotte something that had been bothering me all week.

"How did you know I wouldn't immediately go to the police?" I asked her as we sipped our lattes in the shopping mall. "You did kidnap me, after all."

"Easy," Charlotte replies flippantly. "The money."

"Um, I didn't actually find the laptop until after the Spencer and Hall interview..." I reply. This little revelation causes Charlotte to almost choke on her coffee. After I check she's alright, she speaks up.

"What did you just say?" The young woman wheezes, trying to fan herself down with her hands.

"I didn't find your laptop until I'd got home," I whisper. Charlotte's eyes- even behind her massive sunglasses- go wide at this revelation.

"Oh god oh god oh god," Charlotte says. I actually have to hold her shoulder to make sure she doesn't have a panic attack.

"Hey," I reassure her, "it's okay, everything went to plan, didn't it?"

"What time did you wake up? Last Friday?" Charlotte asks, still trying not to panic.

"About 8:35," I reply.

"The alarm clock was supposed to wake you at 6am," Charlotte sighs. "To give you time to get your bearings. I must've used more tranquiliser than I thought. I'm so, so sorry you had to go through that."

"Don't apologise," I reassure the still-distraught girl. "The interview was easy, anyway, all I had to do was just sit there and look pretty, your portfolio did all the real work."

"Really?" Charlotte probes further. "Spencer and Hall interviews are, like, two hours long!" This is news to me. I'd never had such an easy job interview in my whole life.

"Mine was only twenty minutes," I explain, causing Charlotte to choke on her coffee again. Once I'd settled her down, I continued. "They both were. Your father did most of the talking." Charlotte groans loudly at this revelation, drawing unwanted attention from nearby shoppers.

"That explains it all," she says with a sigh. "I bet when I get home and check his bank account, his 2.5 million balance will be more like 2.4 or even lower..."

"You really didn't expect to get the job?" I enquire. Charlotte simply shakes her head.

"No way," she says. "That's why I didn't see any harm in sending you along instead- it hardly mattered if it was you or me that crashed and burned." Charming! "Which suit did you wear?"

"Your lilac one," I reply. "I also tried to botch your makeup as best I could. Years of watching too many TV ads pays off at last!"

"Yeah, you'd never have got a modelling job anywhere wearing that thing," Charlotte sighs condescendingly. "Still, I'm going to be earning WAY over 100 grand a year with their representation, so I suppose it's not all bad. I take it you wore the suit I recommended to the second interview?"

"Actually I went for a pink one instead of the black one," I say with a grin, earning a scowl from Charlotte. "Hey, you said go black to match my nails, they did them pink at the salon so I... improvised."

"Obviously you're a faster learner than I thought," Charlotte smirks. "You sure you never did this before, like, as a hobby? Because there's nothing, you know, wrong if you did..."

"Never even thought about it before last week," I confess truthfully. "I did always want to be an actor though, I guess that's why I was able to slip into the 'part' so comfortably."

"Just because you want to be something doesn't mean you are something," Charlotte retorts. That's deep for her, I think to myself, before mentally chiding myself for judging her unfairly, just as she had been judging me.

"If what you said was true," I reply with a smirk, "I wouldn't be sat here with you right now."

"Touche," Charlotte concedes as we go back to our drinks.

Before heading home we stopped off at the salon for some pampering. With someone to chat to, the time seemed to fly by as our makeup was completely redone and our nails repainted a rich gold colour. Charlotte explained that she usually has a trip to the steam room on her visits- though she was willing to skip it in case my sweating caused another problem!

We arrived home just after 6pm to find Keith waiting for us. As we stepped out of the taxi, he dutifully took our bags inside before staring at the two of us confusedly. Smiling yet another sad smile, I pointed a gold-tipped finger in Charlotte's direction. With a broad grin on his face, Keith strode over to Charlotte and embraced her deeply, much like he did to me last Friday when we first met.

Deciding I wasn't going to stay and watch, I headed inside to put away my new clothes. Thursday was also laundry day- Charlotte didn't do it herself, as should be obvious, she had a maid- so there were even more freshly-cleaned garments waiting for me in my room. This included the dress I wore out to dinner on Tuesday night- Charlotte conceded it looked much better on me than it did on her anyway. I can't help but hold the dress in my arms for several minutes, trying to recall all the feelings I'd had that night, of my last embrace with Keith... Despite my near-photographic memory, the night had already begun to fade away.

I smiled and joked my way through dinner despite my clear 'third wheel' status. Keith and Charlotte couldn't keep their hands off of each other and even fed each other most of their food. They spent their evening snuggled up on the sofa watching a film. I was invited to join them- for the film, obviously, not the snuggling- but I declined, opting instead for an early night.

As I laid in bed, I suddenly began to regret my decision to become Jamie. The whole appeal of it had been that finally I could stop pretending to be someone I wasn't, whether that person was Charlotte or even James- who I realised in hindsight had no idea who he really was. I wanted Jamie to be honest (well, about most things) and forthright, not to have to hide behind a mask. And yet here I am, playing the dutiful best friend whilst wishing that it was me snuggled up next to Keith...

Friday begins with me being roused from a dreamless sleep by a typically scantily-clad Charlotte gently shaking me awake.

"Come on, sleepyhead!" The girl giggles as she whirls my bare shoulder round and round. "It's almost 8am! First proper ballet lesson this morning!"

"Just another half hour..." I moan, trying to turn my face back into my pillow.

"Come on---" Charlotte pleads, bouncing her bottom up and down on the side of my bed. Does this girl never run out of energy? I self-pityingly think to myself.

"Okay," I sigh as I get out of my bed and am dragged by the hand to my en-suite, which Charlotte shuts me in until I've finished my morning routine of showering, cleaning the vagina panty- that Charlotte has thankfully ordered a couple more of from the website she found it on originally- and reapplying my makeup and perfume.

After breakfast- which passes by as uncomfortably as always- Charlotte takes me back to my room and picks out our gear for the lesson. She's had this wicked idea that if we go in dressed absolutely identically- make-up and all- Ellen will get confused. It's a typical Charlotte prank- needlessly cruel- but as much as I hate to admit it, it would bring a much-needed smile to my face.

Sure enough, when Ellen enters the ballet studio and sees us standing there in identical black tank leotards, pink seamed tights and satin ballet slippers, she simply sighs and asks us who is who. Fortunately for her, Charlotte's giggling and my blushing answer her question fairly quickly, and we get down to the important matter of learning how to dance.

For the first half hour we run through all the necessary positions- fortunately I'd memorised most of them from Charlotte's tutorial videos, but Ellen insists I mirror Charlotte to make sure I have the form exactly right. The next half hour is spent on the warm-up exercises I'd be performing at the start of each lesson- easy enough, just a few stretches and steps- before moving into a few of the standard steps I'd be expected to learn. Ellen had explained that I'd be taking three lessons a week- Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays- and I'd be assessed throughout to make sure I was making necessary progress. Her timescale had me graduating to pointe shoes within nine months, which I thought was optimistic, but both Ellen and Charlotte were confident I'd be able to make it happen. And I wanted to make it happen.

Naturally, what with Charlotte being Charlotte, the lesson ended with her putting on her tutu and pointe shoes performing a five-minute solo almost entirely en pointe. At the end of it, she looked like she could go for another hour, despite the ninety-minute lesson that preceded the dance.

"Nine months from now, you'll be doing that," Charlotte teased as we saw Ellen to her car and waved her off. "Well, maybe not that, but something close!"

"God, I don't know," I replied, leaning back on the door frame exhausted from my lesson. "It looks so complicated!"

"Yeah, well so is coordinating fashion, make-up and, oh, pretending to be a completely different gender," Charlotte teases me. "You picked that up pretty well!"

"Thanks," I say, exchanging a quick hug with Charlotte as we head indoors. Truth be told, I'm more excited than anything at the prospect of learning to be a ballerina- especially if I get to dance on stage!

"Before I change, I have one more little surprise for you," Charlotte teases further. "Now that I'm going to be represented by Spencer and Hall, my old agent- Joshua Benedict- is going to have room for another model in his books. How'd you like that model to be you?" I gasp and hold my hands to my mouth in amazement.

"Are you serious?" I ask excitedly. "Don't you, like, have to actually be a model before you can get representation?"

"Joshua loves me," my friend smugly states as we head upstairs toward our rooms. "I'll explain the situation to him and I'll get him to put you on his books."

"Won't he be upset you're abandoning him for Spencer & Hall?" I enquire, concerned that she may be being a little optimistic again.

"He'll understand," Charlotte says as she opens the door to her room and purposefully keeps me out of it. "I'll give him a call and book you in for tomorrow."

"Does he even work Saturdays?" I ask, wondering if Charlotte has truly become oblivious to the world around her.

"He will for me!" The confident young woman grins as she shuts her door, leaving me dazed and confused as I head to my own room to change.

Charlotte changes out of her dancewear into a tight white top, grey pinafore dress and high-heeled ankle boots whilst I opt for a cute long-sleeved black minidress, dark patterned tights and another pair of ballet flats, to Charlotte's dismay. The reason we've broken with our routine- Charlotte's routine really, I guess- of not changing out of the comfortable dancewear is because today has yet another big moment for me- my hormone prescription is ready to be collected. In a few hours' time, I'll have taken the first physical step toward being a real girl.

"Are you ready?" Charlotte asks me as we stand in the public toilet of the local shopping centre. In one hand I have a bottle of mineral water, in the other, one tablet of oestrogen and one of progesterone. If I take these tablets religiously, then over the course of the next eighteen months, my body will change. Properly change. My voice will get higher, my hips and bottom fuller, my face and skin softer, and my breasts will begin to grow. My mood will dramatically alter- sometimes several times a day, if what the doctor tells me is true- and I'll never be able to have children.

Weighing all the options up in my mind, I place the two tablets on my tongue and draw them back past my pink lips. A swig of water later, and they're in my stomach. Charlotte gives me a congratulatory hug.

"I'm so proud of you!" She enthuses, squeezing me tightly. "This is going to be so cool! I tell you what, how about to celebrate this and your interview tomorrow, we-"

"Go shopping?" I finish Charlotte's sentence with a smile.

"Wow," Charlotte replies with a devilish grin, "you really are my BFF!" We spend the next two and half hours trawling around the city centre- including a prolonged stay in Ann Summers- before arriving home just in time for dinner.

After dinner- which passed as uncomfortably as ever, despite Charlotte's confirmation of my interview tomorrow and prepping me for it- it was time to head out. It was, after all, Friday night, and with Charlotte's- and for that matter, my- new-found wealth, there was a lot of fun to be had. Charlotte changed into a teeny tiny strapless black dress with ridiculously high 7" platform sandals that put her almost equal to Keith in height. Keith simply threw on a sexy white shirt and plain black trousers. I remember when going out was that easy...

Rather than try to be part of their group I opted for a different look, pulling on a tight pink midriff-baring top that matches my dramatically increased make-up (which includes a thick layer of fake tan and ridiculous amounts of glitter) and leaves my breasts out of reach of any wayward hands, a flared leather miniskirt that swishes around every time I take a step, a pair of back-seamed stockings and a suspender belt, and finishing the look off with a pair of 5" black stilettos, a black clutch bag and an absolute cloud of my new perfume. Charlotte, for once, approved of my look, describing it as 'cute and fun, but with a hint of sexiness'. At least, I assume that was an approving comment.

We arrive at the club at 9pm and immediately Charlotte strolls around the place as though she owns it, seating us at a table whilst Keith orders a round of drinks.

"So, seen any cute boys you like the look of?" Charlotte teases me as she sways in time with the ear-splittingly loud music. "Or girls. Just because you're a girl now doesn't mean you have to exclusively date boys!" Charlotte leans in close to me and 'yells quietly' in my ear. "It's not like I ever have!" Charlotte and I share a giggle at this little revelation.

"Not yet," I confess. "It's not like I can do anything anyway if I do hook up with anyone."

"I dunno, there's that pretty little mouth of yours," Charlotte bluntly states. My heart begins to flutter- Keith hasn't told her, surely? "Or... I guess you're not ready for that either? I'll understand if you're not. Doesn't mean you can't flirt though!"

"Believe me, I am going to!" I smile wickedly as Keith returns with our drinks- a pint of lager for him and girly sweet-tasting cocktails for us. Before too long- and with a few more drinks inside us- the three of us are on the dance floor- Keith and Charlotte dancing together, naturally, whilst I decide to roam free for a bit. After yet more drinks and dancing with various guys for a bit, I cling on to this tall, goofy-looking boy who offers to buy me another drink. Needless to say, I accept!

"So what's your name?" He yells at me as he leads me to a table.

"Jamie-Lee," I reply, sitting down and sipping at my cocktail.

"I'm Ricky," the guy responds, making no secret of the fact he's checking me out. "You are absolutely one of the hottest girls I've ever seen in here!" I smile a devilish grin and take a sip of my drink.

"Thanks," I say coyly, trying desperately to adopt some of Charlotte's confidence.

"So what are you, a model or something?" Ricky asks. Heh, I think, I know a pick-up line when I hear it. Catch this, lover boy...

"Actually, I am," I say, causing Ricky's eyes to go wide. "A professional model."

"Have you been in any magazines?" Ricky asks. It takes me a while to realise exactly what type of modelling he thinks I do- or at least, I claim to do. I don't know if it's the alcohol or the atmosphere but rather than correct him, I play along.

"Nah," I say sadly. "Mostly just websites. Sent my photos to Nuts and Zoo but not heard anything back." I finish my drink and dispatch Ricky off to get me another. I turn around when I feel someone sit down next to me, but to my surprise, it's not Ricky, but Keith.

"Hi," Keith shouts, causing me to giggle involuntarily.

"Hey, gorgeous," I flirt back, perhaps a little inappropriately. Keith actually blushes at this! And I thought he couldn't get any cuter...

"Charlie sent me over," Keith explains. "She saw you chatting to some guy over here and for some reason she's worried about you." This gets my back up a little.

"She needn't worry, I'm a big girl now," I say, not hiding my contempt towards Charlotte's behaviour.

"That's what I said," Keith replies. "Still though, she reckons you'd be better off sitting at our table."

"What about Ricky?" I ask.

"I... doubt he's coming back," Keith explains. I look around the club- taking extra time to scan the bar- but there's no sign of him. Obviously he must've seen me with Keith and cut his losses... "Look, me and Charlie have got a table, how about we go back there and enjoy the rest of the night?"

"Is Charlotte not dancing anymore?" I enquire.

"Nah, she says she's feeling tired," Keith explains. So she doesn't have infinite energy after all... I think to myself. "We'll probably be off home in about half an hour anyway."

"If she's not dancing, do you want to dance with me?" I ask, grabbing Keith's hand expectantly.

"That's... not a good idea," He says nervously. "Actually, I'll ask Charlotte if she wants to go now..." And with that, Keith hurriedly runs away from the table leaving me alone. Sure enough, two minutes later, Charlotte comes over and announces we're heading home, less than an two hours after we arrived at the club.

When we arrive home I am quickly marched up to my room by my BFF and ordered to lie on the bed.

"Okay, firstly, I'd prefer it if you didn't flirt with Keith," Charlotte states as I lay still, trying and failing to focus my thoughts. "I know it was just the alcohol talking so you don't need to worry that I might think you'll try to run off with him-" I desperately scramble to stifle my laughter at this- "but given how similar we look and how easily confused he gets, I'd really prefer it if you, you know, held back."

"Okay," I nonchalantly agree.

"Secondly," Charlotte takes a deep breath, "what were you thinking? Hooking up with random guys?"

"You told me to flirt," I retort, kicking off my heels and making myself more comfortable on my bed.

"By which I meant 'dance with a bit'," Charlotte explains. "Not 'hole up in a corner somewhere'!"

"Well, you should've been clearer!" I innocently reply, infuriating my host.

"Just- just get some sleep," Charlotte instructs. "Hopefully you'll have sobered up for your interview tomorrow."

"Okay," I sigh, snuggling into my pillow. "Goodnight, Charlotte..."

"Goodnight, Jamie," Charlotte says as she clicks off my light and closes the door.

The next morning, I wake up and immediately regret it. Not only is my body sore from sleeping in my clothes last night, but my head is throbbing. Groaning, I roll out of bed and stagger towards the en-suite, where I collapse down on the cold tiles.

"I'm not even slightly sympathetic," Charlotte states, entering my room and standing over my prone form.

"If you're not going to be sympathetic could you at least try to be helpful?" I ask the dressing-gown clad girl, who simply rolls her eyes and helps me to my feet. I groan as I look in the mirror- naturally, my make-up is trashed from having slept in it last night, and I look just as bad as I feel.

"Keith's got some coffee on the go downstairs," Charlotte explains. "Just shower and come down. Don't worry about your make-up, I'll do that later for you for your interview today."

"Okay," I groan as I strip out of my clothes and head into the shower. After cleaning myself off- and wincing at how androgynous my face looks without any make-up on, I pull on a fresh thong and a baggy t-shirt before heading downstairs to try to cure this dreaded hangover.

"Hi Jamie," Keith nervously says as I sit myself down and immediately dive into my coffee.

"Hi Keith," I reply quietly. Well, this couldn't get any more awkward, I thought to myself. I sit nervously still for a second, wondering if, without any make-up, he'll suss that I'm not what I appear to be, but he's seen me as female for so long now the thought probably doesn't even occur to him. The fact that my hair is styled in a feminine way and I'm wearing gold nail polish probably helps too.

"Feeling alright?" Keith asks stoically, probably not knowing what to feel towards me following my behaviour last night.

"Felt better," I half-whisper, staring into my coffee. "I'm- I'm sorry about last night, it was just the drink-"

"Breakfast!" Charlotte announces loudly, pushing a plate filled with toast and jam underneath my nose, causing me to wince a little- both at the sound, the sight and the smell. "Big day for you today!"

"The interview?" Keith asks. "Cool. Don't you already have representation though?" Shit, I think to myself, desperately trying to scramble together an excuse. Fortunately, my BFF steps up for me.

"Not any in London," Charlotte explains. "She'll really need a local agency to represent her."

"Okay," Keith replies, satisfied with my answer and not seeming to realise that, like Charlotte, I've actually lived in London my whole life. "Where are you from originally?" Keith persists. "I don't think you ever told me..."

"Um, uh," I stutter, caught off-guard slightly by the question. Come on, I think to myself. Think of somewhere not to local. You can do it Jamie- Jam- Cam-

"Cambridge!" I announce, probably a bit too loud.

"That's right, Cambridge," Charlotte says, playing along with the deception. "She used to commute down here to work and that's where we first met, isn't that right Jamie?" Charlotte looks at me with increasing annoyance. Knowing better than to try to elaborate further, I simply smile and nod in agreement. Keith, for his part, pauses for a second as though he's trying to take it all in.

"Okay," he says, returning to his breakfast. It's all I can do not to breathe an audible sigh of relief. At Charlotte's silent urging, I quickly finish my toast and coffee before being ushered back up to my room by the insistent young woman.

"When I'm done with you," Charlotte proudly announces, "EVERYONE will want to give you a job, not just Joshua." Half an hour later, I can see she wasn't kidding.

My make-up is completely redone to almost salon quality. It's subtle but noticeable and very chic. My light silver eye shadow complements my deep red lipstick, the exact same colour applied to my finger- and toenails.

Charlotte also takes the time to remove my breasts- to give the skin underneath some air- before gluing them back on, more secure than ever.

Charlotte selects a black suit with a short pencil skirt for me to wear. It's shorter than I'd usually- huh, that's probably the wrong way to put it. I mean to say, it's shorter than I'd want to wear to an interview, and very tight around my backside, but Charlotte assures me it'll be okay. I wear glossy black tights underneath- Charlotte had wanted to put me in stockings and suspenders to 'give me more confidence' but I was able to persuade her that tights would do that job better. I'm wearing an ivory satin blouse and a closely fitted jacket, and on my feet I have 5" pointed-toe stilettos. With some very expensive perfume applied, my best jewellery and a matching handbag, I have to admit, even I'd give me a job.

Charlotte for her part is wearing a light blue suit with lighter tights than my own- but equally high heels, of course. Ten minutes later and the taxi is ready to pick us up and I have to admit, I'm really nervous!

Fortunately, it turns out I have nothing to worry about. Joshua isn't exactly a corporate man. He is tall- at least 6' 4"- black guy with a thick half-London half-Nigerian accent, sounding almost like a jolly African Grant Mitchell. He confidently breezes into the room- understandable given that he literally owns the place- and exchanges air kisses with Charlotte before introducing himself to me.

"You must be Jamie-Lee!" He says enthusiastically. "Charlie's told me all about you!" It's my turn to exchange air kisses with this bizarre man. By now, of course, I am completely comfortable with kissing another- no, sorry, A man in this fashion, but I am taken aback by his positive demeanour.

"Nice to meet you!" I say a little loudly as he helps Charlotte and myself into our chairs like a true gentleman.

"Charlotte tells me you need representation in London!" He says, opening a folder that I assume to be a CV Charlotte's put together for me.

"That's true," I say calmly, trying not to be put off by his seemingly boundless enthusiasm.

"I've looked at your CV," he explains, flicking through the folder. "Born 19th September 1991 in Cambridge," -wow, Charlotte edited THAT quickly- "height 165cm, weight 54kg, measurements etc. etc. It also shows that you don't have a great deal of experience, only local fashion shows, is that right?"

"I'm afraid so," I say with a playful grimace. I know better by now than to question the path Charlotte's laid out for me... Joshua 'hmm's as he looks over the CV a little more.

"Undoubtedly you have the look," he explains, looking square at me. "You're undoubtedly a beautiful woman."

"Thank you," I say, taken aback by the compliment and blushing a little.

"I don't normally take newbies onto my books," Joshua explains, causing my heart to sink a little. I can't surely have failed this interview before being given an opportunity to speak, surely?

"However, I do owe Charlotte a favour," Joshua explains, looking a little bashful himself at this revelation. "And she has left a gap in my diaries by jumping to Spencer and Hall. And the two of you look so alike we can just about carry on as though nothing's happened! So what I'm going to do is, we're going to go downstairs to my studio, you're going to model that little suit of yours for me, and I'll see if I like what's in front of me. Deal?"

"Deal!" I nod eagerly.

"Alright then!" Joshua says, leading the two of us downstairs.

"You'll be fine," Charlotte whispers in my ears, giving my shoulders a supportive squeeze. "Just like I showed you before, okay?"

"Okay," I whisper back nervously. For the next half hour, I'm stood in front of the camera posing, strutting, pouting and flirting with Joshua's camera. He must have taken over 200 pictures- not counting the ones where Charlotte bursts onto the platform to ensure I'm not hogging all of the limelight. When we're done, Joshua takes us back up to his office where he loads the photos from his camera onto his laptop and shows us the results. I playfully cringe a little as the pictures are displayed for me.

"Don't cringe," Joshua says supportively. "In fact, I can't believe this was your first time in front of a camera." Clearly Charlotte hasn't told him everything... "You're a natural. A definite natural. And I'd like to welcome you aboard Joshua Benedict Model Management. Assuming you'll have us, of course!" Joshua extends his hand, which I eagerly accept, remembering of course to keep my handshake limp.

"Of course!" I enthuse. "When do I start!"

"Easy now," Joshua says, accepting of my enthusiasm but trying to calm it a little. "I'll have to match you to specific jobs that I have lined up, but I think I could get one for you by a week on Monday?" I nod eagerly- that'll do me!

"What about the shoot you had me down for this Monday?" Charlotte asks. "Have you found a replacement for me yet?"

"You can't make it yourself?" Joshua asks, checking a spreadsheet on his laptop.

"I have an initiation for Spencer and Hall," Charlotte replies with a grimace. Umm, I think to myself, no you don't...

"Well sure, if Jamie's happy to do it instead of you that wouldn't be a problem," Joshua says with a grin. "I'll give them a call Monday morning and let them know of the change of plans."

"I'm happy," I say, smiling and nodding. Inside, though, I'm already panicking!

"Okay," Joshua says with a smile. "I'll email the brief for the shoot to you, check it over and let me know if you have any problems." This causes my eyes to widen a little. Isn't Joshua going to question the fact that my email address begins james.travis... ?

"Umm," I begin cautiously, "do you have my email address?"

"It's on your CV, silly!" Joshua playfully teases, showing me the document. Sure enough, there's an email address on there, only this one begins 'jlburke91'. I simply smile and roll my eyes.

"Silly me!" I exclaim, hoping to have got away with the slip up.

Two minutes later, the interview concluded with me signing my name on the contract that made me officially a professional model. It was all I could do not to dance around the room- and I'll be honest, I think Charlotte and Joshua may have been expecting me to!

"Aw, my BFF's now an independent woman!" Charlotte says before we get into the waiting taxi, giving me a tight squeeze.

"Thanks!" I say with genuine gratitude, reciprocating the hug. "You did a really great job on that CV, I'm really grateful."

"Least I could do for my BFF!" Charlotte says with a smile as the taxi pulls away into the city centre.

"Though I suppose I'm going to need something to read that email on," I say with a sigh, "and I'm assuming you're not going to want to lend me your laptop again?"

"You assume right," Charlotte says, looking me in the eye. "Can you stand going computer shopping for a bit?" If I'd been asked that question two weeks ago- especially by a pretty girl- I'd probably have wondered if I'd won the lottery. Nowadays, though, there's only one thing on my mind...

"Only if we can go PROPER shopping afterwards!" I reply, causing myself and Charlotte to giggle uncontrollably. I don't even have to explain to Charlotte that 'proper shopping' means 'clothes shopping'.

We spend 45 minutes at the nearest Apple store, picking me up a laptop and an iPhone. 15 minutes were spent picking out the actual electronics, 30 spent picking out accessories for said electronics. The clerk inside the store bent over backwards in his eagerness to help us. Then again, I don't suppose he gets to serve many hot 19-year old girls with almost bottomless purses...

The next two hours, of course, are spent trying on and buying clothes. We don't pick up much- just a couple of dresses each- but by the time we arrive back we are both truly exhausted. But whilst Charlotte is content to crash on the sofa with Keith, I'm exhilarated by the day's events. I take my pills, change into my comfortable pink hoodie and denim miniskirt and lie back on my bed, adrenaline still surging.

'James' had never had a job beyond the odd day- and it was never more than a day- in a factory or a warehouse doing horrendous work for horrendous bosses and getting horrendous money for it. All of a sudden, Jamie-Lee doesn't just have a job, but a career- and when I'm called down to the lounge by Charlotte on the grounds of wanting to show me something, I can see it's a career I'm going to excel at.

"Hi, I'm Charlotte," coos a familiar voice from her laptop. The videos I'd shot for the fancy dress company last week have been edited and uploaded, and are currently being downloaded straight into our living room, much to Keith & Charlotte's amusement and my mortification.

"Oh goddddd," I moan into my hands as Charlotte runs through every. Single. Video. Even the silent ones of me simply turning around in the costume, not saying anything. Afterwards, every single photograph of me in the costumes is downloaded onto her hard drive and analysed in minute detail. It takes almost an hour, at the end of which my face has gone almost as red as the fingernails I'm trying to hide behind.

"I don't see why you're so embarrassed, you did a great job!" Charlotte enthuses, trying to cajole a reaction out of me. "Obviously not as good as I would've done, but very professional!"

"I've never seen that side of me before!" I squeak, trying to hide behind a cushion Charlotte quickly bats away from me. "The stuff I'm saying is so cheesy!"

"You've never had to say cheesy lines when you were on stage?" Keith asks, prompting momentary panic from myself and Charlotte. Fortunately, an idea quickly springs to my mind.

"I'm not really a 'stage' actress," I explain, feigning yet more embarrassment. "I'm really more of an extra, like on TV shows."

"Cool!" Keith replies, satisfied with my answer.

"You may not be much of an actress," Charlotte says with mock-disdain, "but you're definitely a hell of a model!"

Once my ritual humiliation is complete we eat dinner- over which I have to bluff my way through a near-endless set of questions from Keith about my imaginary TV extra work- and afterwards I am once again relegated to my 'third wheel' status as Charlotte and Keith snuggle up together on the sofa. I decide once again to be antisocial and retreat to my room, firing up my new- pink- laptop and surfing the internet. I have a look at some of my videos and I have to admit, without Charlotte's endless teasing about them playing in the background, I did do a really good job.

With an air of sadness in my heart, I visit the next website on my list- facebook, specifically the account of one James Travis. Looking at my profile picture on there- and comparing it to the image in the mirror behind my laptop (Keith had kindly shifted around some furniture for me to 'girlify' the room a little), I'm shocked by how far I've come. James is a plain boy with scruffy blond hair and no distinguishing features whatsoever. Jamie-Lee, however, is drop-dead gorgeous (even if I do say so myself). I can certainly see how Charlotte would stumble across my profile and immediately see the resemblance- it's almost as if we're sisters. Well, brother and sister, as it would have been back then.

I log in to James's account- it helps to think of him as a separate identity, even a separate person from who I am now. I'm unsurprised to find one outstanding friend request in my inbox, and even less surprised to find that said request is from Charlotte. With a smirk, I click 'deny', then take the steps necessary to close James's account forever.

This is it, I think to myself as my finger hovers over the 'delete' button. I take a moment to ponder the decision. Sure, I could've taken the  £250 000 and gone back to being James. I could've had a good life, not having to worry about fashion, make-up or anything. But then what? I'd still have been unemployed. Unemployable, even. A loner, a failure, a natural born loser...

"So long, loser," I say with a wicked smile as I erase James from the internet and sign up for a brand new account, this time with my- as it is now- real name. After snapping a picture for my profile with my new iPhone, I quickly add Charlotte and Keith to my friends list.

I spend the next few hours playing games on facebook before getting hungry and heading downstairs to the kitchen. To my surprise, Keith is in there alone drinking a cup of tea.

"Hey," I say, making myself a cup. "Where's Charlotte?"

"In bed," Keith explains. "Church tomorrow. You're welcome to join us if you want."

"Best if I don't," I reply. "It'd probably raise too many questions, especially after what happened to Charlotte's father." This raises a question that had been bugging me for a while.

"Does she speak about her father much?" I ask Keith, genuinely concerned for my friend's well-being. "When we're out shopping she talks a lot- mostly about herself." This prompts an involuntary snort of laughter from the handsome young man.

"Not really," Keith states. "You'd have thought she would. I mean, she's effectively been orphaned. Millions or not, that's going to have an effect on someone."

"Believe me," I say, sitting down opposite Keith, "I know how she feels." I sigh and take a deep breath. "I've basically been on my own since I was sixteen."

"Oh no," Keith says with genuine concern. "Your parents, are- are they-"

"Still alive," I hastily interrupt Keith. "Kicked me out after I-" failed all my GCSEs and got arrested for possession of cannabis... "told them I wanted to be a model. They'd always wanted me to be a..." success. No matter what I did, as long as I didn't shame them in any way. "Teacher, or a lawyer or any professional really. They just wanted me..." to be happy and healthy, and I spat in their faces. "to go to university like you're doing, make something proper of myself." I can feel the tears well up behind my eyes as I pour my heart out. Damn these hormones work fast, I think to myself.

"Why don't you give them a call?" Keith says. I simply shake my head, too choked up to speak. "Go on!" He continues. "You are a professional now. So what if you don't have a degree? You've got representation, steady work, I saw the videos, you're almost as good as Charlotte. Definitely good enough- look at me- and beautiful enough to make a life out of it." I simply laugh, still desperately trying to choke back the tears.

"I can't," I whisper. "If they saw me now, they'd..." disown me forever... "They just wouldn't understand." At this, the tears finally come. Keith, ever the gentleman, comes over and wraps me in his arms, letting me cry myself hoarse onto his shoulder.

"It's okay, it's okay," he coos as I bury my face in his t-shirt. We stand there for almost a quarter of an hour before I let him go, having finally cried myself out. There's an awkward silence as we stare at each other for a second.

"You- uh, your make-up's kinda run a little..." Keith awkwardly states.

"Thanks!" I playfully chastise him, giving him a light punch in the arm. Another awkward silence falls. "I'd-uh, I'd better get to bed..."

"Okay," Keith whispers. "Goodnight, Jamie." Unable to resist the urge any more, I lean forward and give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Goodnight Keith," I whisper, reluctantly turning my back on him and heading out the kitchen.

I struggle to get any sleep that night. My thoughts are filled with Keith, Keith's smell, Keith's embrace... I'd never opened up to anyone like I had to him, even if most of it was just a lie. I certainly can't imagine myself opening up to Charlotte like that. She may consider me to be her BFF, but the feeling isn't mutual. Especially when I'm in love with her boyfriend...

I must have dropped off at some point as I'm awakened just before 8am by Charlotte gently knocking on my door, asking one last time if I wanted to join them at church. I politely decline- as politely as any teenager who'd been woken up at 8am on Sunday would, anyway- but I roll out of bed about half an hour later anyway. After my morning ritual of showering, applying some make-up- I'm not going anywhere today but I feel naked, exposed without it- putting on a clean bra and briefs and eating breakfast, I slip into a fresh pair of tights and the same hoodie and skirt I was wearing last night. After taking my pills, I crash on the sofa and click the television on, and to my amusement, Match of the Day comes on- a show I forced myself to watch when I was James, but now I can barely see the point of. Rather than endure the rest of it, I run upstairs and grab my laptop, surfing the web and leaving the TV on as background noise until Charlotte and Keith arrive back at about 11am.

The two of them check in on me before getting changed- Charlotte looks very elegant in her straight pink dress, hat and gloves, but Keith looks stunning in his suit.

"Really?" Charlotte chastises me as Keith goes upstairs to change. "Same outfit you wore last night?"

"Who's going to see me in it besides you and Keith?" I retort. "And besides, you told me never to flirt with him..." Charlotte rolls her eyes. I've quickly come to learn this is her way of conceding a point.

"Okay, okay, don't let me tell you the best way to be a girl," Charlotte says condescendingly. "How if you'll excuse me, I have a naked man waiting for me in my bedroom!"

"Really?" I ask Charlotte, mocking her condescending tone of voice. "Immediately after church?"

"I never said I believed any of it!" Charlotte laughs evilly, skipping up the stairs in her skyscraper heels. I roll my eyes and go back to the TV, turning up the volume after remembering that Charlotte's bedroom is directly above the lounge.

Charlotte and Keith spend all afternoon in her room and when they eventually come downstairs for dinner, both with dreamy looks in their eyes. Surely they can't have spent the whole of the last six hours having sex? I thought to myself as Charlotte- now dressed in a t-shirt and frilly lace miniskirt (and 5" heels, of course) plonked herself onto the other sofa whilst Keith prepared dinner.

"You ready for your shoot tomorrow?" Charlotte asks with a devilish grin.

"Yeah," I reply, "but school uniform? Really?"

"Some companies just prefer using models who are legally adults," Charlotte explains. "Labour laws or something. It's no big deal, just dial down the sexy a little, don't wear too much make-up, you'll be fine."

"I guess," I say, looking over the brief again, which prompts Charlotte to plop herself down next to me and read Joshua's email as well.

"Has he got you any more work yet?" Charlotte asks.

"Just one shoot a week on Tuesday," I explain. "Modelling bridesmaid's dresses." Art imitates life, I self-pityingly think to myself. "How about you, any news from Spencer and Hall yet?"

"You mean apart from Dubai at the end of the month?" Charlotte gloats, prompting me to gasp in amazement.

"Dubai?" I ask, my mouth agape. "Really?"

"Yep," Charlotte says with intense smugness. "Before that I've got a shoot for their website on Tuesday but that'll be my Spencer and Hall debut, Dubai fashion week. I really wanted to tell you earlier but the look on your face just now was worth the wait! Reckon you'll be alright here on your own for five days?"

"I'll live," I say, trying to disguise the jealousy in my voice. Charlotte, however, can see right through me.

"Oh cheer up," she says with a smile. "You'll still be making good money. Just not, you know, supermodel money." The more time that passes, the more convinced I am I'm less Charlotte's BFF and more her sidekick.

Dinner passes as uncomfortably as always. Keith and Charlotte were practically sitting in the same seat. As always, I skip out on watching TV after dinner and retreat to my room, repainting my nails with a clear polish ahead of tomorrow's photoshoot.

I eventually crawl into bed at about 11pm, wondering when I began to resent my 'BFF' and benefactor.

The alarm clock on my iPhone wakes me at 7:30 the following morning, and after showering (including eliminating what little body hair and facial hair I have), taking my pills and applying my very light make-up, I pull on a clean new bra and thong set, wrap a dressing gown around myself and head downstairs for breakfast, where Charlotte and Keith are already waiting for me. To my surprise, Charlotte jumps up and gives me a tight squeeze.

"Big day today!" Charlotte squeaks in my ear as she ushers me to my seat.

"It's a shoot," Keith says with a shrug. "It's not like she hasn't done them before."

"Yeah, but," Charlotte begins, taking a little time to think of her retort. "It's her first one for Joshua, this could be the stepping stone to something REALLY big. No pressure though, Jamie."

"Thanks," I say nervously. Charlotte's right though- previously when I'd modelled, I'd been 'in character' as Charlotte. Today, I'm going to have to be Jamie-Lee, the model, and actually sell myself. Sure, I knew what I was doing, but this'd be a whole new ball game.

"How hard can it be, anyway?" Keith asks with a laugh. "You put on some clothes, walk around a bit..." The young man is quickly silenced by identical death glares from myself and Charlotte.

"We've been over this..." Charlotte reminds Keith in a clipped tone.

"Okay, okay," Keith says hastily, "no need to get all 'Girls United' on me!" I simply smile whilst Charlotte giggles and gives Keith a hug that he eagerly reciprocates.

After breakfast Charlotte leads me up to my room and decides to pick out my outfit after my 'faux pas' yesterday of wearing the same clothes two days in a row. I'm handed a pair of thick black tights- that I'll need to wear underneath the skirts I'll be modelling today anyway- a flared black miniskirt and a tight red top. With a pair of knee-high boots underneath- which have a 4" heel, naturally- even I have to admit Charlotte's picked out a better outfit than I ever would have. With some sexy perfume, sunglasses and a matching bag I feel more ready for what the world can throw at me- as Jamie-Lee- than I've ever been.

I arrive at the studio on my own- Charlotte has a few errands to run so I'm flying solo today. I'm a bit early as they haven't begun setting up yet, so I confidently stroll up to the male model Joshua sent along with me.

"Hi, you must be Andrew," I say with a smile, offering him a limp handshake that he eagerly accepts. "I'm Jamie-Lee Burke."

"H-hi," he says, somewhat flustered by my forwardness. "I thought I'd be doing this with Charlotte Hutchinson?" I smile a wicked, Charlotte-like smile- twenty seconds and already I've got him wrapped around my little finger. I of course know all about him from the brief Joshua sent me- 18 years old and with a year and a half's experience, you'd think he'd be used to chatting to cute girls by now. I guess boys will be boys...

"Didn't you hear?" I explain to Andrew. "She got signed by Spencer and Hall. Off to Dubai at the end of the month."

"Really?" He asks excitedly. "That's... cool."

We spend the next quarter of an hour chatting before being ordered to change into our uniforms. Despite me being the newbie and Andrew the experienced professional, I still dominate the conversation completely, talking about my home life with Keith and Charlotte whilst he dutifully listens. Being a girl is awesome.

I model the various uniforms in front of a green screen. They're split about 50/50 between skirts and trousers and as silly as this sounds, I feel much less comfortable in the trousers. They're not exactly as tight as the jeans I have at home but they still have a noticeably feminine cut, and yet still I feel uneasy. Whether it's because I fear being 'found out' at any moment or whether it's because they make me feel all frumpy and unsexy- especially with my lack of make-up and flat shoes- I can't say. Still, I am a professional, and I make the clothes look good no matter what they are.

Fortunately when it comes time to model the various different blazers, blouses, ties and coats, I'm left wearing a skirt underneath. Once I've got a full uniform set on, I can't help but admire my reflection in the dressing room mirror. I'd always admired the girls from afar when I was at school. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I'd make a cuter schoolgirl than any of them. And yet here I am, wearing the skirt, the tights, and the shirt and blazer that button the 'wrong' way. And I'm wearing them so well. For the first time ever, I'm imagining what it would have been like to have been a schoolgirl. It certainly couldn't have been worse than being a boy at my school, that's for sure. Too small for sports yet threatened with severe beatings from the thugs every time I try to succeed academically. It's no wonder 'James' hit rock bottom- he was doomed from the start. Not that it matters any more. James is in the past, where he belongs, and Jamie-Lee is already more successful than those knuckleheads I left behind in the dole queue last week. As I head back out into the studio, I turn and take one last look at myself in the mirror. Sure, I'm only pretending to be a schoolgirl, but I am getting paid for it, and I'm not ashamed to admit I am loving it.

Two and a half hours later though, I'm glad to be back in my day clothes, and I even find myself to be glad to be back in heels instead of the comfortable flats I'd been modelling. I'm about to head out of the studio when I hear a familiar voice calling to me.

"Jamie!" Andrew says, quickly jogging up to me. "Are you, uh, I mean, um, are you busy- do you have to be anywhere or would you, you know, like to grab a, maybe, cup of, say, coffee?" It's all I can do not to laugh in the poor boy's face- sure he's a model but he barely looks 15 years old (probably why he got this particular gig), I can well believe he'd be intimidated by the prospect of chatting up a cute girl. I know I would have been... I think to myself, laughing inwardly.

"I'd love to," I say, heading out of the studio. Unfortunately, as I exit the building, I spot in the distance a familiar middle-aged dance teacher waving at me.

"Ah, I'm sorry," I say to Andrew, cringing. "I'd really love- believe me, I really would love to but I've got a ballet lesson. And I'm probably not going to be able to call in sick as she's, well, just seen me leave the studio."

"It's okay, I understand," Andrew says, clearly disappointed. As I turn to walk over to Ellen's car, I pause.

"Tell you what," I say, turning back to Andrew and holding up a slender finger, "how about I give you my number and you can give me a call some time?" I grin as Andrew gets flustered by the incredibly forward woman standing in front of him.

"Um, su- sure!" He says as he fumbles in his pockets to get out his phone. We exchange numbers and facebook details before I stroll over to my waiting instructor with a new spring in my step.

"So then," Ellen teases as I settle down in her car's passenger seat, unconsciously smoothing my skirt as sit down, "who's your boyfriend?"

"He's not my boyfriend!" I laugh as we head towards home. "Well, not yet, anyway..."

"Not yet?" Ellen probes with a smirk on her face. "Hmm... I never really figured you were, well..."

"Never figured I was what?" I ask, perplexed at Ellen's wonderings.

"Never figured you were a heterosexual girl," Ellen finished, carefully picking out her words.

"Any reason I wouldn't be?" I ask, adopting a slight Charlotte-esque pout.

"Other than the fact that two weeks ago you were, I assume, a heterosexual boy?" Ellen retorts, dragging my unwanted past back into the present.

"Whoever said I was a heterosexual boy?" I reply. "Okay, I guess I did think of myself as a straight guy, but to be honest... I'd never actually had sex with anyone before all this so I don't really know what I was. And now, if I find a guy attractive, there's no stigma so I can pursue him if I want."

"You do know it's 2011," Ellen reminds me. "There's no real stigma attached to being gay anymore?" I simply sigh and look at the older woman sadly.

"Not if you had a childhood I did," I sigh. Ellen takes the hint and probes no further. Shortly after we arrive home I quickly skip up the stairs and change into my ballet gear- deliberately picking out a leotard I know doesn't match any of Charlotte's- and meet my two friends in the studio to begin warming up.

The lesson goes well- even Charlotte is forced to admit I'm learning faster than she did- and as we wave Ellen away in her car I'm still nervously skipping up and down on the spot, pleased with my progress. Charlotte, however, is a lot more downbeat.

"Hey," I say softly, approaching the sad-looking young woman. "What's up?"

"It-it's nothing," Charlotte says, turning away from me. The is the first time I've ever seen her looking down in any way, and I have to admit, it's scaring me a little.

"No, it's not nothing," I say, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I thought I was your BFF, doesn't that mean you can tell me anything?" To my surprise, Charlotte whirls around and starts hugging me tightly. I quickly reciprocate the hug and lead Charlotte back inside the house.

"I thought-" Charlotte begins, tears welling in her eyes- "I thought if I pretended it wasn't going to happen, then it wouldn't..."

"What?" I ask, trying to probe as delicately as possible.

"I'm almost packed," Keith's masculine voice announces from Charlotte's bedroom. All of a sudden, the penny drops. The holidays are almost over, and Keith will soon be going back up north to continue his university studies. Charlotte buries her face in my shoulder again, and thinking quickly, I lead her to my room where I sit her down on the edge of my bed and let her cry into my shoulder in much the same way I had cried into Keith's two days ago. Once she's done, I lead her into my bathroom to fix her make-up- I can't have her saying goodbye to her boyfriend looking like a panda, after all. After throwing one of my new short summer dresses over her leotard (and pulling on a purple hoodie and black denim skirt myself) I turn Charlotte to face my full-length mirror.

"Go down there," I advise her gently but firmly, "and show him how much you love him. Make him regret every second you're not in his arms." With a renewed vigour- and the confident face I've come to associate with her- Charlotte marches downstairs to say goodbye to the man we both love. I watch from my bedroom window- comfortable for the first time with my status as 'third wheel'. As Keith is driven away in the back of his taxi, I can see Charlotte standing there, waving after him even after he's long out of sight. Recognising this as yet another 'BFF cue', I head out of the house and lead the tearful Charlotte back inside.

The rest of the evening goes very differently to how the previous evenings had gone. Instead of Charlotte dominating every room she's in, she's much quieter, much more relaxed. In fact it's actually me who dominates the conversation, Charlotte hanging on my every word as I describe my photo shoot- including getting a laugh out of her as I described my discomfort with trousers- my encounter with Andrew and my upcoming bridesmaid shoot. After a DVD marathon of Sex and the City- which I'd never seen before but now can't get enough of- I'm tasked with tucking Charlotte into bed at 11pm. My jaw drops when I see her crawl into her bed wearing cotton pyjamas instead of her usual tiny satin babydolls, but I'm her BFF and I need to be there for her.

I change out of my dancewear into a satin nightie- I've come to love the feeling of soft satin against my soft skin- and crawl into my own bed a little later.

Everything's changed, I think to myself as I drift off to sleep. And everything had changed. I'm now an independent woman- the compliments I got during today's shoot almost had me blushing with embarrassment (which would of course be unprofessional). The director's even mentioned he'll give Joshua a call this week and see if I can't do more shoots with him.

And for the first time since my life as Jamie-Lee began, it's just going to be me and Charlotte rattling around this big house on our own. I now see just why she was so desperate for a friend. In the past, when Keith went back to university, it'd probably have been her father who she leaned on for support, but with him now in custody, she truly is alone. It's difficult to see a millionaire supermodel as a poor, lonely orphan, but that's just what she is.

In a way it's no wonder she was so eager for me to become Jamie-Lee. Obviously if I'd remained a male I'd never have been allowed to be her BFF- Keith would have tossed me out the second he found out. But I really don't feel sexually attracted to Charlotte at all. I see her as a friend, a friend who needs me now more than ever. I guess Ellen was right- no matter what I'd tried to convince myself throughout my earlier life, deep down I am a heterosexual girl. That thought doesn't frighten me, repulse me or give me any other negative feeling. In fact, if anything, it excites me.

Especially as there's a cute young boy out there right now with my phone number!

The following morning I wake up before Charlotte for probably the first time ever. After performing my morning ritual- shower, pills, make-up, clean underwear- I throw on a pink dressing gown and go and shake my friend awake.

"Come on, sleepyhead!" I say jokingly, grabbing Charlotte's shoulder and gently rocking her back and forth.

"Ugh, leave me alone," Charlotte complains, burying her face in her pillow.

"Big day today!" I enthuse, yanking the covers off of Charlotte's bed, much to her chagrin. Defeated, Charlotte sits up and flashes me a brief smile.

"Do you want to, you know, come with me today?" She asks as she heads into her bathroom to do perform her own morning ritual.

"Won't they mind?" I ask over the roar of her shower.

"Nah, friends and family come along all the time," Charlotte explains. "Just make sure you're dressed well- actually, don't worry, I'll pick out your outfit for you." I smirk despite Charlotte's condescension- she's getting back to her old self quicker than I'd expected.

Sure enough, we arrive at the Spencer & Hall head office two hours later both looking truly exquisite. Charlotte's wearing a very short grey miniskirt, a tight black top and a pair of six-inch stilettos that would- if I didn't know her better- have me concerned she was going to topple over and break her neck any second. I'm dressed more conservatively with a tight white top and a black velvety pinafore dress with thin tights and ballet flats underneath. Both of us have expensive glittery red polish on our fingernails, are wearing our poshest jewellery and are carrying expensive bags.

After being greeted, I'm introduced to the agency's director for what would be the first time- if I hadn't interviewed in front of him twice already! (For obvious reasons, Charlotte and I are keeping Spencer & Hall in the dark about the switcheroo) After wishing Charlotte luck as she gets changed for her shoot, I am left alone with the director for a bit.

"So, Charlotte says you're a model too," he asks me. I stutter a bit after being put on the spot like that- it's almost as if he's interviewing me now!

"I'm... only really a beginner," I explain, blushing a little.

"Not got much of a portfolio?" The director asks, and I shake my head sadly.

"Well," the director says with a smile, "we're not actively recruiting models right now but if you give us a call in a couple of years' time I can see about getting you an interview." My jaw drops, as is rightly should- the thought that a firm like Spencer and Hall should be interested in little old me is just unthinkable.

"Thank you!" I gush, trying not to gasp. "Thank you, thank you I will!" The director merely smiles at my girlish enthusiasm. No doubt he tells every pretty girl who walks through his doors the same thing and no doubt 99.9% of them never even get an interview, but it has truly made my day!

Charlotte's shoot goes perfectly. She's dressed in a long, flowing chiffon dress that comes down far past her ankles despite the fact she's only getting a set of headshots done. I play the dutiful BFF, standing at the back of the studio and giving encouraging thumbs-ups whenever prompted.

"That was the absolute most nervous I have ever been during a shoot," Charlotte confesses as we leave the studio and hop into our waiting taxi. "Even when I was 14 and modelling swimsuits I've never felt so... exposed."

"Well if it's any consolation," I say with a smile, "this time next year you'll be able to sign those photos and sell them for AT LEAST  £200 each. Everyone's going to want a part of you."

"Aw, thanks!" Charlotte says bashfully. "What did the director want to talk to you about?"

"Oh, just offering me an interview," I boast, deliberately leaving out a lot of the conversation's key details.

"Oh he offers everyone with a pair of breasts an interview," Charlotte says condescendingly, before actually cringing at her error. "I'm sorry, I just- I mean-"

"It's okay," I say, wondering if I've ever before heard Charlotte apologise about her arrogance. "I kinda figured that might be the case."

"Anyway, the important thing," Charlotte says, holding up a perfectly-manicured finger, "is that we have the rest of the day free. So, what do you say to an afternoon of-"

"Shopping?" I ask, raising a curious eyebrow. "Only if we can go to the salon afterwards!"

"I'll make the call!" Charlotte enthuses, grabbing her phone as we head into the city centre.

The great thing about London is it's so big, and there are so, so many shops in it- as I was about to find out, though, the city is smaller than I ever could have imagined. No sooner had we set foot in our first upmarket clothing store when I hear a familiar voice call out to me.

"Jamie?" The unmistakable- even when sober- voice of Ricky calls out to me. I turn and face him with a wide grin on my face whilst Charlotte watches on, half astonished and half amused by the encounter. From his uniform and name badge, it's pretty obvious he works here.

"Of all the shops in all the streets in the city I have to wander into your one, right?" I ask the young man, my grin staying permanently locked on my face.

"Well, yeah!" He says, his own grin seemingly locked in place. "When you ran off the other night, I thought... I don't know what I thought."

"Yeah, about that," I say, grimacing a little. "...Sorry. I'd had a little, tiny bit too much to drink, and my friends were kinda worried about me." I gesture towards a still-entertained Charlotte. "If it makes up for it, I could always, you know, give you my phone number and you could, maybe, take me out some time?" Ricky's grin turns into a wide, beaming smile.

"Sure!" I have a wide smile of my own on my face as I jot down my number on his hand. I flash another wide, beaming smile in his direction as I head off with Charlotte toward the womenswear section.

"Two days, two dates," Charlotte teases as we browse through a seemingly endless selection of skirts. "If I didn't know better, I'd say someone was a little man-hungry!" In reply, I simply grin again and grab a sexy-looking skirt to go and try on. Yeah, life as a girl is good, but I can tell it's going to get so, so much better.