SIX WEEKS LATER

I blink my eyes awake and roll over in bed, only to be stopped by an unexpected face full of blonde hair that isn’t my own. Turning my head to the other side, another long mop of blonde hair- again, not my own- blocks my view. Once I’ve blinked the early morning tiredness- and a moderate hangover- out of my eyes, the previous night’s events return to my memory.

“Krys,” I whisper, gently nudging the sleeping woman on my left-hand side. “Han, wake up!” I whisper to the slumbering figure on my right.

“Ugh,” Hannah moans, stirring under my constant prodding. “The whole point of a sleepover party is that we get to sleep at some point!”

“It’s your fault for sandwiching me in the middle of my bed!” I tease, climbing over my newest best friend despite her protests and heading to my bedroom door dressed only in my nightie, carefully sidestepping the other two girls on the floor in their sleeping bags.

“On three,” Krystie says evilly. “Three!” As one, all four girls immediately sit up and hurl their pillows in my direction as I shriek and cower under the bombardment, eventually laughing along with my four best friends.

I sigh as I eventually free myself from the pillows and head along the landing to my bathroom, taking care not to wake my parents along the way. It’s been six weeks since I moved back in with my parents, and they have been six of the most content weeks of my life.

Whilst I've been content, I've certainly not been lazy- Joshua's stayed true to his promise to keep me in work, and whilst I'm not constantly travelling to all corners of the country like I was a couple of months ago, I'm still seen and heard from often enough to keep me in the public consciousness (a string of interview after the fight certainly didn't hurt there). I've even started to do more modelling work, too- since Charlotte's 'fall from grace' many famous brands have been looking around for new 'faces', and whilst Joshua hasn't been able to get me into all of them, I have my fingers in enough pies to keep my bank balance nice and healthy. I even found time last month to shoot my 2014 calendar, which already has thousands of orders from eager retailers, despite my 2012 and professionally-produced 2013 editions bombing (though gratifyingly, both now fetch a lot of money on eBay!).

My additional spare time has allowed me to catch up with my university studies, too- even though we're now nearly at the end of July, I'm still playing catch-up on my coursework, and may end up graduating a little later than I thought. Fortunately, my tutors are all big supporters of mine, and very understanding of my other career.

My parents, however, have been my biggest supporters- even more so than my friends. Despite the intrusion in their life (we haven't been doorstepped by paparazzi again, fortunately) they both greet me every morning with a smile and a hug, and both take a genuine interest in the work that I do. They've already filled three scrapbooks with newspaper and magazine clippings that feature me, and occasionally those that only feature my friends (somewhat understandably, they're both huge fans of Krystie & Mary).

I've kept my promise to find TV work for Mary- and for Krystie and Hannah, too- even if it is just the occasional 'standing on TV looking sexy whilst wearing a dress' work. Ever since Mary agreed to sign with Joshua last month, the four of us have been closer than ever, and (much to Joshua's delight and approval) treated increasingly as a 'posse' by the national media. Whilst I'm seen as the de facto 'leader' of this so-called posse, I've gone out of my way to ensure that the other girls get all the recognition they deserve, even if Krystie's modelling work has taken a back seat to her increasingly-successful ballet school, and Mary's work will be tailing off once she starts university in September.

Hannah, however, has had virtually all of the work we'd have taken dumped on her 20 year old shoulders, and seems to be coping with it brilliantly. It was- unsurprisingly- Joshua's suggestion that the three of us take her out on one of our now-legendary girls' nights, and she gelled so smoothly with the rest of us we were kicking ourselves that we hadn't added her to our 'posse' earlier- though how she'd have got on with Charlotte is anybody's guess, given that Hannah has a similar (though nowhere near as extreme) 'alpha female' mentality combined with a playful cheekiness that sometimes puts even Krystie in the shade!

You will have no doubt noticed, however, that there were four other girls in the slumber party, not just three. In addition to Hannah, her oldest school friend, Victoria, has been hanging around with the three of us a lot and is currently in one of the sleeping bags on my bedroom floor. Whilst she, like the rest of us, is a lover of all things girly, she's not actually a model (despite Joshua's constant job offers whenever she picks Hannah up from work), and is very (and unjustifiably) self-conscious about her own body. She's good fun to be around- always up for a night out- but at times it feels like she's deliberately pushing herself into the background. Being the only dark-haired girl out of the five of us (Krystie having FINALLY settled on blonde) certainly doesn't help her self-consciousness, nor does her refusal to join in our ballet lessons despite the fact that she's had plenty of dance experience herself AND still owns a perfectly useable pair of pointe shoes.

And as for Charlotte? Not a peep from her since I confronted her on her doorstep all those weeks ago. Neither Krystie nor Mary have spoken to her- not that they told me about, anyway- and when I do feel the urge to watch any of her television appearances, she's always very professional, almost as if the fight- and, for that matter, myself- had never happened. Spencer and Hall have seemingly kept true to their word of trying to 'rehabilitate' her.

...On a purely selfish note, though, it was very gratifying when her debut single, 'Drop Dead Red', completely failed to even make the top 100 in the charts. Oddly enough, there have been no further peeps from anyone in 'Team Charlotte' about any future musical releases...

So, that's been life post-Charlotte. Probably the only thing I've missed about that life were the random no-reason costume parties, but our regular girls' nights out (and slumber parties in!) have helped ease those withdrawal symptoms- and it is Krystie's 21st on Thursday, with our planned Nutcracker-themed party taking place the following Saturday!

As I re-enter my bedroom I brace myself for another barrage of pillows, but instead am greeted with the shock of my life when Krystie grabs me from behind and- despite my struggles- dumps me on the now-empty bed.

"Come on, this isn't fair!" I complain, dreading what's coming next. "I'm your host! Show a little respect!"

"We are!" Hannah laughs, helping to hold me down. "You've never had a proper slumber party before, so we're doing all the things girls do at proper slumber parties!"

"And that includes..." Krystie says, laughing evilly.

"No, no, no!" I plead, desperately trying to wriggle out of my predicament.

"...A tickle fight!" Krystie yells manically, driving her fingers into my ribs. I've always been unbelievably ticklish- to the point where I even forbade Paul from tickling me and he- even he- actually obeyed- so when the four girls take turns tickling every inch of my helpless body, I'm quickly driven into a state of sheer panic. I can't tell how long I'm 'tortured' like this, but when I'm released, I'm drenched in sweat and panting heavily.

"I. WILL. HAVE. REVENGE." I state darkly to the four giggling women, before breaking into a giggling fit of my own.

"I seriously can't believe this is your first slumber party," Mary laughs. "I mean, I know you, you know, haven't been a girl your whole life, but even before then, you didn't-?"

"Nope," I say, still catching my breath from the tickling assault. "You know the type of knuckle-draggers I hung around with at school. If it didn't involve fighting or pot they weren't interested."

"Ugh," Hannah spits. "Can't stand potheads. You never- you know, you never yourself- did anything similar, um, did you?" I giggle a little at the awkwardness with which Hannah asks her question, earning myself a frown from my new friend.

"What?" Hannah asks, slightly offended.

"I dunno," I say apologetically. "I just think it's funny that me taking pot is a more sensitive subject than me having previously been a boy." Much to my relief, Hannah giggles at the revelation.

"You know, that is kinda funny," The tall, blonde woman agrees.

"And for the record, no I didn't," I say, earning a sigh of relief from all of my strongly anti-drug friends. "Now can we change the subject, please?"

"With pleasure," Krystie says with a smile. "Viks, you going to come to my class tomorrow?" Victoria simply smiles and rolls her eyes as Krystie's almost Joshua-like attempts at persuasion.

"I'll come along to watch," the timid girl replies. "When I go back to uni in September I won't even be able to come along to do that, you know."

"All the more reason to get what dancing you can in now!" Krystie says to universal agreement.

"...And if you don't have any suitable leotards," I interject, "I've still got over fifty that I haven't even tried on yet!" Viks sighs- she's clearly giving it serious thought, but is obviously too self-conscious, even though she knows she'd be amongst friends.

"Yeah, but you're a size 8, I'm a size 12," Viks complains. "I'd feel silly in a skin-tight leotard!"

"You'd look sexy in a skin-tight leotard!" Hannah says, giving her best friend a playful shove.

"They're still in a box in the spare bedroom," I say. "How about you try them on, see what you think?" Viks sighs, knowing she's got no logical way out of this.

"Okay," she finally concedes to cheers from the four of us. "AFTER breakfast. And you're making it!"

"Fair enough!" I say happily, holding my hands up and leading 'my posse' out of my bedroom and downstairs into the kitchen.

"AND you're all wearing one too when I am!" Viks orders.

"Hardly seems like too much of a hardship," Mary laughs.

Sure enough, after a light breakfast, during which my parents came downstairs to reprimand us for the noise (despite it being 9:45am), me, Krystie, Hannah and Mary are all stood at the top of the stairs wearing nothing but multicoloured tank leotards (and in my case, a vagina panty 'just in case'), waiting for the fifth member of our group to emerge from the spare bedroom. Naturally, Krystie's also taken the opportunity to tie all of our hair up into severe ballerina buns!

"Okay," Viks sighs, opening the spare bedroom door. "Here I come..." Viks steps out of the bedroom to awed gasps from the four of us. She's wearing a very plain purple tank leotard, but it hugs all of her curves beautifully and shows off plenty of her usually-amazing cleavage.

"See? What did I tell you," Hannah says, giving her best friend a quick hug. "DAMNED sexy." Viks smiles, putting one hand on her hip and admiring herself in the mirror we set up on the landing.

"Yeah," she says, smiling confidently. "Still can't help but feel out of place, though."

"Just let me at your hair, I'll fix that for you!" Krystie jokes, fiddling with Viks's hair once the raven-haired girl has nodded her consent. Less than two minutes later, Viks's hair is tied up into the same style of bun as the rest of us. "Now grab the banister!" Smiling, Viks complies and turns her feet out into a perfect first position.

"And plié," Krystie commands, smiling as Viks drops into a perfect dip. "And releve." Viks rises smoothly back up, earning herself a round of applause from the rest of us.

"Kinda wish I had my pointes with me now," Viks says with a laugh.

"Then bring them along tomorrow!" Mary laughs. Viks sighs happily.

"Okay," she finally concedes. "Just this once, and as you twisted my arm, I get this lesson for free. Deal?" Krystie cheers and hugs her newest student.

"Deal!" Krystie says. "This is going to be so awesome!"

We stay in our leotards for the rest of the morning as Krystie gives Viks an impromptu ballet 'crash course'- which Mary, Hannah and I take the opportunity to muck about in something rotten- before untying our buns, throwing on the loose sundresses we were wearing yesterday and heading downstairs, crashing on the sofa and the floor, much to the bemusement of my parents.

"Aw, my little girl's first ever slumber party!" Mum coos, much to my embarrassment.

"Mum!" I reprimand. "Less of the 'little girl', please?"

"I dunno," Krystie jokes, stroking my hair playfully, "it's kinda cute! I've got two younger brothers so I NEVER get called 'little girl' anymore!"

“I’ve got four older brothers and sisters,” Mary interjects. “You get tired of it REALLY quick!”

“Just let your father and I have this, please?” Mum pleads as I continue blushing with embarrassment. ”You were never our little girl when you were growing up and we’ve still got so much to catch up on! I really wish we’d known about ‘Jamie-Lee’ when you were still living with us.” Yeah, I wish I’d known about her too… I self-pityingly think to myself.

“Okay,” I sigh. “But the whole point of ‘catching up’ is that we, you know, catch up as soon as possible?”

“Aww,” Hannah moans, giving me a short, playful cuddle. “Does this mean no more sleepovers?”

“…Maybe one or two,” I reply, to mass cheers from the girls. We while away the rest of the afternoon talking about work, clothes, ballet and make-up- and pointedly NOT talking about boys!

“This was so awesome,” Krystie says, giving me a hug before getting into Mary’s car. “I haven’t had a proper slumber party in AGES. I just wish the insurance company at the studio wasn’t such a pain, it’d be SO awesome to have one there!”

“Meh, we’ll just have to settle for our usual Monday morning lessons,” I joke, before Hannah greets me with another hug.

“I’m SO glad I’ve got you as a friend,” Hannah sighs into my shoulder. “This has been SO much fun.”

“I’m so lucky to have you as a friend,” I reciprocate. “You AND Viks. I’ve always thought that it doesn’t matter what you do to have fun, it’s who you do it with that’s most important.” After Hannah releases me, Viks bids me farewell with a quick hug before climbing in her car and driving herself and Hannah away.

“I really, really like your friends,” dad says with a smile as I crash onto my sofa.

“Are you sure you should be saying that about four girls in their early twenties?” I joke, earning myself a tut from my father.

“You know what I mean!” Dad says defensively. “They all seem to genuinely love being around you, even that Victoria girl seems less shy when she’s hanging around with you.”

“Yeah, she’s cool,” I say. “Even if she doesn’t quite want to admit it.”

“I’m so glad you at least have that consistency in your life,” mum says with a happy sigh as she hands me a cup of tea.

My mother is, of course, one hundred per cent correct. Even if I still had a boyfriend, even if I still had my so-called BFF rooting for me, my life wouldn’t be nearly as happy if I didn’t have the girls in it. Even as I slide into bed at 10:30, I’m still chatting with the girls on Facebook messenger, talking about trivial matters but hanging on every word like my life depended on it.

My alarm wakes me at 7:45am the following morning and I run through the morning routine which has quickly become second nature to me. After showering, taking my pills and pulling on a fresh vagina panty, I pick out my outfit for the day. It's Monday morning, and even though we're no longer being taught by Ellen, it's still ballet class, so I skip a pair of panties and instead pull on a pair of soft, pink dance tights, followed by a tight navy blue tank leotard from my new 'collection'. Technically, as it's summer, I could wear the tights outside the leotard, but I prefer it this way as it allows me to roll the leg holes of the leotard higher, and I have a feeling I'll be changing before the end of class anyway! After fixing my make-up- just a light layer, given how much effort the class usually takes- and repainting my nails a cute shade of pink, I scrape my hair back into a tight ponytail, pull on a floaty, short-sleeved minidress and slip my feet into a pair of black closed-toe wedges before heading downstairs to my car, making sure to give my mum a quick kiss goodbye before departing!

As I drive to class I can't help but muse on how much I've missed Ellen- not just as a teacher, but as a friend and a surrogate mother figure. She was technically the first person to know 'my secret', even before Charlotte, and in the early days, I could always turn to her whenever I had a problem. Now, with my 'secret' no longer a secret, my real mother very active in my life, it's like I no longer have any need for her, and that makes me sad. Sure, I still have her as a friend on Facebook and I'll still like her photos and status updates- but with her still teaching Charlotte privately (I assume she still is, anyway) it's almost like she's siding with the enemy, as silly as that sounds. As I sit in the early-morning London traffic, I make a mental note to contact her, even if it is just to say 'hi'.

I arrive at the class just before 8:50am and am unsurprised to run into Hannah and a very nervous-looking Victoria in the foyer, both dressed similar to me with their light summer dresses and pink tights, and both clutching pink dance bags.

“Hello, fellow bunheads,” I joke, despite my hair still being down (unlike Hannah & Victoria’s very professional-looking buns).

“God, I don’t know why I’m this nervous,” Victoria giggles, clutching her dance bag for support. “I mean, it’s just going to be the five of us, right?” Hannah and I both nod- even after we stopped taking tuition from Ellen, Krystie was always careful to keep Monday mornings restricted to just our ‘gang’, even though it did cost her a little in the way of profit.

“Ready when you are, ladies!” Krystie announces, poking her head around the door to the studio. Grinning widely, Hannah, Viks & myself head to the nearby sofa and quickly swap our street shoes for soft satin ballet slippers before stripping off our dresses and heading into the studio, where Mary and Krystie are already waiting for us at the barre. After tying my ponytail into a tight bun (much to the delight of the other girls) and showing Viks the age-old trick of rolling the leg holes of her leotard higher to make her legs look longer, Krystie officially gets the lesson underway with our usual exercises, which Viks quickly slips back into the routine of.

“It’s the big day on Saturday,” Krystie announces after we’ve all warmed up and stretched our joints and muscles into dancing shape, “so you know what that means, right?” I grin- my suspicions when I was getting dressed this morning have been confirmed

“Dress rehearsal!!” Hannah yells, bouncing up and down excitedly, before suddenly becoming conscious of the shy girl standing next to her.

“No, it’s okay,” Viks says with a twinge of disappointment in her voice. “Krys has already said she’ll work with me this lesson whilst you three practice.” I can’t help but be unable to return Viks’s gaze- and I can tell that Hannah and Mary feel the same way. Krystie, however, still has a smile on her face.

“Well it’s my class,” Krystie announces with her hands on her hips, “and I say that ALL of my friends will get to dance in the dress rehearsal. ALL of them.” Viks smiles at the revelation, but immediately points out a small flaw in Krystie’s logic.

“I… kinda don’t have a costume,” Viks says, nervously picking at a loose seam on her leotard. This time, it’s my turn to smile knowingly.

“Oh really?” I rhetorically ask as I and Krystie head into the storage closet and return with five large, gorgeous tutus in our arms. “This costume has the letters ‘VEB’ on it… Who do we know who has those initials?” Viks, in a state of near shock, clasps her hands to her mouth before gingerly taking the costume from me and admiring it.

“You- you made one for me anyway?” Viks asks, awestruck by the tutu.

“Of COURSE we did!” Krystie replies, giving Viks a quick hug (but taking care not to squash the tutu!). “I want all my friends to celebrate my birthday with me, do you really think I’d leave you out?” Nearly crying, Viks quickly fans herself with her hands.

“Can I try it on now?” Viks asks excitedly.

“Well that’s what we’re all doing, no reason you can’t too!” Krystie says, taking her own costume from me and stripping out of her leotard right there in the studio. The rest of us quickly follow suit. As always, I feel a little self-conscious being topless in front of the other girls (and am glad I'm wearing the vagina panty under my tights), but once I'm laced into the amazing pink tutu, I feel like the princess I know I am, deep down inside. What I can't help but chuckle about, though, is how comfortable Viks is stripping off. For a girl who yesterday was self-conscious wearing a leotard in front of her friends, she's suddenly become very confident going topless in front of them!

“Okay, my first class today isn’t until 12:30,” Krystie explains as she pulls a fairly large make-up set out of her massive dance bag. “Ordinarily I’d say that means we can’t waste time, but it is a DRESS rehearsal, and technically that does include make-up…” Laughing giddily, the four of us line up to have our faces suitably decorated by Krystie’s expert hands- with the no-longer timid Viks right at the front of the queue! With us all looking the part (myself and Mary taking responsibility for Krystie’s own make-up), myself, Mary and Hannah start practising our own steps whilst Krystie puts Viks through her paces.

By 12pm we’re all utterly exhausted. Despite the studio having ample air conditioning, it’s still a hot July day, and our feet are killing us from dancing en pointe all morning. Before we’re allowed to change back into our loose, cool summer dresses, though, Krystie insists on running us through the routine one last time- with Viks joining our little ‘troupe’ for the first time. Krystie may not be as talented a choreographer as Ellen, but she’s more than capable of putting together an elegant routine for five people- with her, as the birthday girl, as the star attraction, of course!

The routine goes well, for the most part, even if Krystie did have to call out a few of Viks’s steps as she obviously hasn’t had time to memorise them all yet. As we all carefully hang our tutus back up in the closet (after having taken a few snaps for Instagram, of course), the four of us, now back in our summer dresses (with the exception of Krystie, who obviously has a class to teach, so is wearing her dancewear again), are eager for Saturday to come so we can dance the routine for real!

“Ugh,” Viks complains, “my feet are killing me."

"First time en pointe in a while?" I ask as I grab a pair of flats out of my dance bag, opting for them instead of the suddenly-unappealing wedges.

"I... May have done some pointe exercises over the last few weeks," Viks admits as she blushes, once again the shy, unassuming girl she was before she put on her tutu.

"Well you're a natural," I say confidently as we head out into the foyer where Krystie's first class- young girls who all look like they're aged between 5 and 8- are waiting, all dressed in their own ballet outfits. In a way, I can't help but be reminded of my mum's words from yesterday, and how I wish I'd known about Jamie-Lee earlier. When I was 8, I'd probably have tried to punch anyone who suggested I try ballet, and yet now, at 21, I find myself wishing that I could just turn back time and be one of the girls now going into this class- as long as I had 8 year old versions of Krystie, Mary, Hannah and Viks to accompany me, of course!

"You up to much this afternoon?" Viks asks, snapping me out of my trance.

"Nah, not much," I say as I head back to my car, Viks following closely behind. "Need to write my column for next week's mag, got to be careful not to fall too far behind."

"Do you- do you need a hand?" Viks asks. "Mary's going to be hanging out with Dan all day, Hannah's going round Martin's..."

"Viks," I sigh with a smile on my face, "if you want to hang out with me, just ask."

"Do you wanna hang out this afternoon?" Viks asks with a cheeky smile that suits her face so perfectly.

"I'd love that," I answer with a wide grin- even if I don't need the distraction whilst trying to work.

"Do you still have those foot spa things?" Viks asks as she slides into my Clio's passenger seat, making us both giggle as we set off home.

“Mum, I’m home,” I yell as I lead Viks through my front door. “I’ve got company, I hope that’s okay?”

“Of course it is!” Mum says happily. “Hello Victoria! Did you both have a good class?”

“Good, yes,” Viks says. “Exhausting though, and painful!” I nod in agreement as we slip off our flats and head through to the kitchen to cool down our poor feet.

“Well if you’re going to use those foot spas, use them in the kitchen,” mum commands. “God knows what your dad would say if you spilled water all over the living room carpet!”

“Will do!” We both giggle as I head upstairs to grab the foot spas and my laptop. Needless to say, five minutes later, myself and Viks are sat at the kitchen table, relaxing as the warm, bubbly water soothes our feet and toes.

“I’ve got to admit,” Viks muses as I type my latest column, “I’d forgotten just how much I loved ballet, the dressing up, the dancing, the expression…”

“Why did you stop in the first place?” I ask, desperately trying to evenly divide my attention between my work and my friend.

“Because all the girls who went to my class were 5’ 9” supermodels, like Hannah,” Viks sighs. “I just felt out of place, being 5’ 5” and chubby.”

“CURVY,” I firmly correct my self-conscious friend. “You’re several dozen pounds away from being anything even remotely resembling ‘chubby’! And as for out of place, remember who you’re talking to!”

“I know, I know,” Viks says, “but at least you look the part.”

“Only because I had two years of tuition from the best teacher in the country, if not the world,” I explain. “Believe me, when I started I was tripping over my own feet most days, AND I had to watch Charlotte dance like she was Darcey Bussell at the end of every lesson.” Viks giggles and relaxes back in her chair as I remember my earlier mental note to talk to Ellen.

“I know this is a sensitive subject,” Viks begins hesitantly, “but I kinda wish I’d had the opportunity to meet her, to see what the fuss was all about.” I giggle and roll my eyes.

“Believe me, she’s overrated,” I say, feeling a little embarrassed about being so catty. “You’ve got the four best friends in the world as it is. So have I, actually!” Viks smiles at her compliment.

“What’s your column about?” Viks asks.

“Uhh, just the usual crap,” I moan. “How to overcome obstacles when you’re transgendered, etc etc.”

“Some of those obstacles are difficult even if you’re NOT transgendered,” Viks muses. “You know your agent is constantly offering me representation, right? I drop Hannah off for a meeting and he practically shoves a contract in my face.” I giggle- that is SO Joshua.

“What’s stopping you from accepting?” I ask. “It’s good money, you can fit the work around your uni, you know Joshua won’t ask you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, and you’d be great at it!”

“I’m not comfortable with ANY of it,” Viks sighs. “I mean, yes, I consider myself to be a girly girl, you know how much I love fashion and make-up and dressing up for nights out...”

“You were like a completely different girl when you were in your tutu today,” I remind Viks, who simply smiles.

“But doing it professionally, putting myself out there for the whole world to see?” Viks says. “That’s… different.”

“I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t want to do,” I say, pausing from my typing for a second. “But I’d like to think I’m a good judge of character and I know there’s a part of you that thinks ‘yeah, maybe this’d be fun’.”

“I just… don’t want to be seen as ‘Jamie-Lee Burke’s fat friend’,” Viks sighs.

“For the last time, you are not fat!” I exclaim. “Yes, you don’t have exactly the same body shape as me or the rest of the girls, but that doesn’t make you any less sexy! If you went in front of the cameras you’d see that.”

“What about…” Viks begins, “if I do a shoot, but it’s just, like, the five of us, private photos that wouldn’t get published publicly?” I chuckle a little, confusing Viks.

“Umm, you do know that’s how Joshua ‘interviews’ prospective models, right?” I say. “He drags them down to his studio and takes photos of them wearing the clothes they showed up to the office in?” Viks giggles at this news- she clearly knows Joshua’s character just as well as I do.

“Okay then,” Viks says. “If you’re SURE I'll enjoy it, and you're SURE it'll improve my confidence…”

“Cross my heart,” I say with a smile, before making a mental note to email both Ellen AND Joshua…

I eventually do get my column finished, showing it to Viks and earning her ‘seal of approval’ before she departs just after 5. After dinner- during which mum predictably probes me for information about the dress rehearsal- I head up to my room and grab my iPad, opening Facebook and browsing to Ellen’s profile. Taking a deep breath, I type out a quick message.

‘Hi,’ I simply say. When I don’t receive an immediate reply, I sigh and type out an email to Joshua, asking him if he can ‘interview’ Viks at some point this week. Five minutes after I send the email, my iPad’s new message notification bleeps- but it’s the noise of a new Facebook message rather than a new email.

‘Hi, sorry for the delay in responding, was busy,’ Ellen’s message reads. I criticise myself for feeling so nervous about talking to her- after all, she is one of my oldest friends and I haven’t fallen out with HER at any point. Nonetheless, I’m apprehensive as I type my next message.

‘How’s things?’ I type. ‘Been a while since we last spoke.’

‘Pretty good,’ Ellen replies. ‘Are you being taught by Krystie now? I do hope you haven’t given up on ballet, you were so good at it after all.’ I smile- Ellen is as professional as ever.

‘Yeah, Krystie’s a great teacher,’ I reply. ‘She’s got loads of students already of all ages. Think people are impressed you were her teacher, even if it was only for six months.’

‘You’re welcome,’ Ellen replies with a smiley face. ‘To answer what will inevitably be your next question, yes, I am still teaching Charlotte, though she hasn’t renewed her credit contract yet for September.’

‘So you think she’s only getting what she’s already paid for?’ I ask, regretting the catty tone of the message as soon as I send it.

‘Possibly,’ Ellen replies. ‘I actually think she misses doing it with you, and the other girls, even though she goes out of her way not to say it.’ My breath catches in my mouth as I type the next message, a question I’ve wanted to ask for the last seven weeks but never had the courage to do so.

‘Does she talk about me?’ I ask, almost physically shaking as Ellen types her response.

‘No,’ she bluntly says. ‘Though I think that’s just her being stubborn. She’s lonely, Jamie. Even though she still has Keith I know she misses her friends, especially you. Just call it a mother’s instinct.’

‘I miss her,’ I confess. ‘Even though in my head I know I shouldn’t, after what she said and did, in my heart I’d give anything just to have one more night out with her and the girls.’ My eyes go wide as I hastily type the next message. ‘Obviously, you can’t tell her that! Please?’

‘Lol,’ Ellen simply replies. ‘I know better than to get involved here! I promise I won’t mention this conversation when I see her on Thursday.’

‘Why did she move her lesson from Monday?’ I ask, confused by the normally ritualistic Charlotte’s change of routine.

‘It’s only for this week,’ Ellen explains. ‘Clash with work, I think.’

‘Hmm, okay,’ I muse. Obviously Spencer & Hall are working her harder than I thought...

‘It’s been good talking to you Jamie, but I need to go now,’ Ellen types. ‘You take care of yourself.’

‘You too,’ I type as Ellen goes offline and leaves me alone with my thoughts.

I head to bed at 9:30pm- an early night under normal circumstances, but I’ve been booked in for a TV appearance in the morning so will need to be up early tomorrow- and am asleep very quickly following the day’s exertions. Not that that helps me wake up any easier when my alarm goes off at 6:30am, mind you.

“Morning, sleepyhead!” Dad jokes as we both exit our bedrooms at the same time. “Sometimes I forget just how much you hate mornings!”

“I don’t mind mornings,” I moan, “it’s just the bit before 9:30 that I don’t like!” Dad laughs as he quickly ensures he gets into the bathroom before me, leaving me to trudge downstairs, dressed in just my nightie, and plonk myself down at the kitchen table.

“Oh cheer up,” mum says, shoving a sweet-smelling cup of coffee under my nose. “When you have kids of your own you won’t be allowed to hate mornings!” I smile at my mum’s optimism.

“I’ve told you before,” I remind my mother, “I won’t be able to bear any children myself as I don’t, and won’t, have a uterus, and the hormones sterilised by boy parts a long time ago.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t adopt,” mum says firmly. “And I for one still intend to be a Grandma some day!” I sigh as I drink my coffee, willing the caffeine into my veins.

“I’m only 21, I’m too young to be thinking about kids!” I complain as dad sits down next to me.

“Well hurry up and get older,” dad jokes. “You’re our only child and I want to be a granddad someday, even if you do have to adopt!” I grin tiredly as I finish my coffee and head up to the bathroom to get ready. I was warned before I started my hormone treatments that I wouldn’t be able to have children, and at the time it didn’t seem like a big deal- even when Charlotte offered to pay to have some of my sperm frozen, I declined without a second thought- but now that I once again have a family, I can’t help but think about one day becoming a mother. Unlike Krystie or Mary, I’m not the most comfortable person in the world around children, but the idea of raising a child as my own, watching them grow into a young man or woman… Sometimes I catch myself staring at young couples with infant children, and sometimes I think that yes, I do want that someday. Someday, but not today, not when I’m still young and still have so much to experience!

After I've showered, dealt with any body hair and taken my pills, I head into my bedroom to get dressed. After donning a tiny bra & thong set, I pull on a frilly, sleeveless blouse and a black pencil mini skirt with matching stiletto pumps. It's a very simple look- fun, but not too casual- and works perfectly for television, especially in warmer months. I apply a subtle layer of make-up- not too much eye shadow, but a liberal amount of red lipstick- touch up my nail polish, put on my favourite jewellery and spray on some perfume before grabbing my bag and keys and heading downstairs. After saying goodbye to both parents with hugs, I hop into my car and head to my latest date with the general public.

I arrive at the small studio in Docklands with an hour to spare before I’m on screen, and I’m quickly drilled by the researcher on what to expect. It’s about as basic as TV spots get- I’m just reviewing lingerie sets I modelled a couple of months ago (though obviously won’t be modelling today), giving them all the thumbs up in accordance with my contract with the manufacturer- who in return, keep me in a seemingly endless supply of sexy undies! After introducing myself to the four young women who’ll be modelling the lingerie sets- and who all ask me for selfies- I head onto the set to begin my piece.

Thirty minutes later, I’m heading out of the studio, my segment having been a complete success. Naturally, I switch my phone back on and immediately redial the number that left the first voicemail for me.

“Hi mum!” I say excitedly, before being ‘treated’ to the shock of my life.

“Boo!” A young female voice- clearly not my mothers’- squeals down the phone at me.

“Whoa!” I squeal, jumping and nearly dropping my phone before realising the prank. After double-checking that I’d dialled the correct number, I sigh and hold the phone back to my ear.

“Hannah,” I say suspiciously, “what are you doing in my house?” From the laughing on the other side of the line, I can tell she’s not alone.

“Helping prep Viks for her interview,” Hannah explains. “You know that email you sent to Joshua?”

“The email he hadn’t replied to?” I ask, still calming myself down from Hannah’s ‘surprise’.

“He called Viks directly this morning and summoned her in for an interview today,” Hannah explains.

“…That still doesn’t explain why you’re at MY house,” I muse.

“Who better to back Viks up than Joshua’s superstar model?” Hannah asks warmly. I grin at the unexpected- and somewhat unwarranted- compliment.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve overtaken me there,” I laugh as I head back to my car.

“Oh please,” Hannah snorts. “You’re the big TV star and you always will be.”

“I dunno,” I tease. “I’m sure I once heard Joshua mention you name in the same sentence as the phrase ‘Spencer and Hall’…”

“Now unless that sentence included the phrase ‘never in a million years’, I KNOW you’re teasing me,” Hannah laughs. After years of Charlotte's ego, sometimes I'm amazed that a woman as beautiful and outgoing as her can have such comparatively low self-esteem.

“I’m just getting into my car so I’ll see you at home,” I say with a smile, clicking off my phone. I have a smile on my face as I open my front door- prank calls or not, it’s always a genuine pleasure to have an unexpected visit from my friends.

“Hi mum, hi guys,” I say. “Just give me chance to get- whoa!” My smile is immediately replaced a look of shocked awe when I see the vision of feminine beauty standing before me. The normal Viks- the black-haired, pale-skinned girl in the loose-fitting skirts and dresses- is gone, and in her place is a smoking hot, tanned brunette in a form-fitting little black dress that shows off plenty of enviable curves and AMAZING cleavage, sheer black stockings containing legs that seem to go on forever and that end in 6” heeled platform stiletto pumps. Her face is immaculately made up, the envy of any cosmetics model, and her long, slender fingers end in long, scarlet nails.

“I-“ Viks starts, stammering with nerves.

“If that sentence ends in ‘feel silly’ I swear I’ll smack you,” I joke, looking the gorgeous girl over before giving her a quick hug, taking care not to mess up any part of her immaculate look!

“I was going to say ‘hate this corset’,” Viks jokes, placing her hands on her taken-in waist.

“Oh please,” Hannah says dismissively, “you’ve worn tighter corsets AND shorter dresses on nights out.”

“Yeah, nights out when the only thing on my mind is having fun,” Viks retorts. “Job interviews aren’t my idea of fun! I still can’t believe I let you talk me into this…”

“But you’re glad we did, right?” I ask, worried that we might be pushing Viks just a little TOO hard.

“…I’ll tell you AFTER the interview,” Viks jokes. “Now go and get changed before I change my mind!” Giggling, I quickly kick off my heels and skip up the stairs to pick out an outfit to meet my agent. Hannah’s wearing a very simple blue-grey skirt suit with matching stilettos and nude hose, so I need to aim for the same sort of look.

I start by stripping off my skirt & blouse and pulling on a waist cincher of my own, tightening it just a couple of inches to give myself some curves- though none that rival Viks's! After attaching a pair of barely black stockings to the cincher's garters, I pick out a dark blue suit from my wardrobe and quickly pull it on. The skirt is short- barely longer than this morning's miniskirt- and is short than I'd usually wear when meeting Joshua, but in addition to Viks's curves, I'm also competing with Hannah's amazing legs, so I need to have as much of mine on show as possible! After exchanging my gold studs for danglier, more outlandish earrings, I slip my feet into a pair of flats (for driving), grab the 5"-heeled stilettos that match my suit and head downstairs.

“Bye mum!” I yell to my bemused parent as I lead Hannah & Viks out of the house and into my car. The drive to Joshua’s doesn’t take long, and after parking my car- swapping my flats for my sexy stilettos, of course- Hannah and I lead the terrified Viks up the stairs into the office.

“Hi Ella,” I say confidently to the new work experience girl. “Is Joshua in?”

“All ready and waiting,” the skinny, dark-haired girl answers. Sure enough, the door to his office swings open, and our agent’s bright, smiling face immediately make its presence known.

“Jamie! Hannah!” Joshua booms, giving myself and Hannah quick handshakes. “Always a wonderful morning when my two all-time favourite models drop by! And who,” Joshua exclaims, greeting Viks with a handshake and a quick hug, “is this most perfect woman?”

“This is Victoria,” Hannah says smugly.

“Victoria Brooks is a shy student who hides behind her own hair!” Joshua retorts, making Viks giggle nervously. “This woman before me is a goddess!”

“Nope, it’s still me,” Viks says, smiling despite her nerves. “I’d like to try out, if I may, please?”

“No trial!” Joshua booms, before laughing happily. “You don’t need a trial! Ella, forward me a draft contract! I need to get this beauty on my books now before anyone else snaps her up!” Hannah and I exchange smug glances- our plan worked brilliantly, even if- and I’m speaking only for myself here- I feel a little jealous that Viks got signed to Joshua without an interview, especially as he’s fast becoming one of the most prestigious agencies in the country!

“Oh my god,” Viks exclaims happily, the ‘shy student’ shining through her glamorous exterior. “Thank you so much!”

“No, thank YOU for finally coming to your sense and letting me make you lots of money!” Joshua exclaims as he leads us into his office and starts typing on his computer. “Though I am surprised that you’ve made yourself up so much- you know when I offered you a job, it was the shy student that I actually wanted?”

“I told you!” Viks chastises Hannah as Joshua laughs.

“Sorry,” Hannah cringes. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel great though, right? Corset excepted, of course.”

“Well, okay, maybe,” Viks concedes. “Okay, I DO feel great. Corset INCLUDED.”

“So now maybe you’ll feel better in future when you’re NOT dressed up like this?” I ask.

“Well,” Viks mumbles, prompting a tut from Joshua.

“Listen to Jamie!” Joshua says authoritatively. “You look beautiful dressed like this but you look beautiful when you don’t! Why do you think I kept offering you representation before?”

“…You were being polite?” Viks asks, prompting slightly cruel sniggers from myself and Hannah and a loud, booming laugh from Joshua that makes Viks blush through her extra-thick make-up.

“I know talent when I see it,” Joshua insists. “I already have several jobs in mind that you’d be perfect for- both as the shy student and the glamorous goddess!”

“And I don’t mind losing weight, I really don’t,” Viks stutters.

“Don’t you dare lose a pound!” Joshua orders. “Millions of women around the world will kill for your curves!”

“I- I’m sorry, this is so weird,” Viks laughs nervously, holding her voluminous hair out of her face. “I’m not really comfortable being the centre of attention…”

“It’s always difficult at first,” I say, trying to comfort the terrified young woman.

“I’ll make sure one of the girls will be free to go with you to your first few shoots,” Joshua says comfortingly. “I know this was a big decision for you, but you must believe me when I say you will make a perfect model!”

Within five minutes, Joshua had retrieved the contract from his printer and Viks had signed it, making her officially a model represented by Joshua Benedict Talent- the same as Krystie, Mary, Hannah and myself.

As we exit the agency and head back to my car, it’s clear that Viks is having difficulty catching her breath- and not just because of the corset!

“Oh my god, I almost can’t believe this!” Viks exclaims. "I mean me, a model? An actual, proper model?"

“I- I’m sorry if we’ve pushed you too hard,” I say, worried that I might be guilty of the same peer pressure I was a victim of- and that nearly destroyed my life- at school.

“No,” Viks sighs. “You’re always telling me how much fun your job is, now I get to find out for myself! And who knows, maybe a few months from now, I'll be getting my own TV spots?” I giggle at Viks's sudden confidence- I can tell 'sexy model Victoria' will be just as much fun to be around as 'shy student Victoria'.

“The REAL question is,” Hannah interrupts, “how do we celebrate Miss Brooks’s new job?”

“Honestly, it doesn’t need celebrating,” Viks insists.

“Honestly, it DOES,” Hannah retorts.

“You know,” I say with a smile, “before I had my big bust-up with she-who-must-not-be-named, we were planning a weekend away, just the two of us, a proper girls weekend.”

“…Aaaand?” Hannah asks.

“…Aaaand I think a girl’s weekend works much better the more girls there are,” I answer. “If you had, say, five girls, 2 days, one beach and a ton of booze?”

“I like your thinking!” Hannah says. “And I’m assuming this holiday will be ‘no boys allowed’?”

“Of course!” I say happily. “What do you say, Viks?”

“I’ve never been on a girls-only holiday before,” Viks giggles.

“Oh, we are SO doing this,” Hannah states. “When you get home, pick out your sexiest bikinis, you’ll need them!”

“…Can I wear a one piece instead?” Viks asks, before giggling, seemingly knowing what the answer will be.

“NO!” The three of us say in unison, laughing our heads off with excitement at our upcoming holiday.

After dropping Hannah & Viks off at Hannah’s flat, I head home and quickly strip out of my hot- in more than one sense of the word- suit and stockings and pull on a comfortable blue tank top and ruffled black miniskirt. After grabbing my iPad, I happily head downstairs and crash on the sofa, much to the amusement of my mother.

“Someone’s got a spring in her step today!” Mum jokes. “Did it all go well with Joshua?”

“Yep,” I say. “He offered Viks a contract right there on the spot, didn’t even interview her!”

“Good,” mum says. “Hopefully now she’ll stop feeling so left out among you girls. It’s great that all five of you work for the same company now!”

“It is,” I agree. “Personally I reckon Joshua will try to make some big deal of it, god I hope I don’t end up on ‘The Only Way is Joshua Benedict Talent’!”

“Well,” mum laughs, “at least you and the other girls will actually have TALENT, unlike most of the people on those shows!”

“And because me and Viks are at uni, and Mary’s starting in September,” I muse, “they can’t call us all airhead bimbos either!”

“Exactly!” Mum says. “What are you looking for on your iPad?”

“We’re having a girl’s weekend next month,” I answer excitedly. “To celebrate Viks’s new job. Just the five of us, sun, sand & spirits!” I can’t help but wither slightly under mum’s disapproving gaze. “Okay, but just because we’re not bimbos it doesn’t mean we can’t have fun, right?”

“Just as long as you make sure you’re safe,” mum sighs, knowing better than to try to dissuade me. Having taken a look at a few locations in Spain & Greece, I take a quick break to catch up on the headlines in the celebrity gossip websites- still chuckling inwardly at the ‘not a bimbo’ comments- and the first headline I see nearly makes me drop my iPad in shock.

“Oh my god,” I say quietly. “Oh my god!”

“What?” Mum asks, panicked. “What is it?” In a state of shock, I hold up my iPad to show the headline to my mum, who gasps in shock.

‘CHARLOTTE THE HARLOT’, reads the headline. ‘Supermodel Hutchinson sneaks around with Premiership footballer behind her long-term boyfriend’s back’

“I thought- I thought she was besotted with her boyfriend,” mum muses.

“She was,” I confirm. “She was absolutely devoted to him, I can’t believe this! I’ve got to tell the girls!” Almost without thinking, I copy the web address of the headline into a Facebook message and send it to Krystie, Mary, Hannah and Viks along with the message ‘OMG!!!!!!!!’ Within seconds, Mary has replied to the message.

‘OMFG!’ Mary’s message reads. ‘Surely some mistake, right?’

‘It looks legit,’ I reply, my fingers still shaking from seeing my former friend so thoroughly eviscerated by the tabloid press.

‘OMG, that's a harsh article!’ Hannah types. ‘How long was she going out with her bf?’

‘7 years,’ I answer. ‘TTBOMK he never proposed but they were co-habiting and practically married anyway, he was utterly devoted to her!’

‘Jesus H Christ,’ Viks types. ‘Is this for real?’

‘Looks that way,’ I type, before feeling slightly guilty- I haven’t even let Krystie or Mary know about Viks’s new job yet- let alone the holiday I’d only just started to plan- and here we all are gossiping about Charlotte. Only she can make herself the centre of attention when she hasn’t even spoken to any of us in weeks!

‘Viks,’ I type, ‘don’t you have happier news for us?’

‘Hardly seems important now!’ Viks replies, making me roll my eyes.

‘It’s a damn sight more important than who’s sticking what in Charlotte!’ I joke.

‘Ooh,’ Mary types, ‘are the fab five now all represented by the same agent?’

‘…Maybe…’ Viks replies with a smiley face.

‘OMG!!!!!!!’ Mary types, following it up with seemingly hundreds of smiley faces. ‘So awesome!!!!!!! Let me see your interview pics!’

‘Miss Brooks didn’t even need an interview,’ Hannah writes, prompting an embarrassed face smiley from Viks. ‘Didn’t mean I didn’t take some anyway!’ Almost instantly, pictures of Viks in her LBD from the interview appear in the chat window, eliciting highly impressed comments from Mary. As the girls coo over the new, sexy Viks, I quietly open up another chat window and send a quick message to Keith.

‘Hey Keith,’ I type nervously. ‘You okay?’ I wait for a minute, but when there’s no response, I move to the next person on my friends list.

‘Hi Stu,’ I type to the transman who has quickly become one of Keith’s closest friends- and who I’ve found myself drifting further and further from over the last few weeks, especially since his separation from Krystie.

“Hi Jamie,’ Stuart replies almost immediately, to my intense relief.

‘Have you seen the news?’ I type.

‘Seen it?’ Stuart replies. ‘I got it straight from the horse’s mouth. And yes, I am referring to Charlotte as a horse.’

‘Lol,’ I reply. ‘How’s Keith? Is he okay?’

‘Here I am thinking it was me you wanted to talk to,’ Stuart jokes. ‘But seriously, I haven’t spoken to him today, he’s not answering his phone.’

‘Is he still at Charlotte’s?’ I ask.

‘HELL no,’ Stuart replies. ‘He walked out as soon as Charlotte confessed to him. From what he said yesterday he probably thinks she’d never have come clean if she hadn’t been caught out by the press.’

‘Doesn’t surprise me,’ I spitefully type. ‘I’m worried about him- you know how devoted he was to Charlotte.’ I type the same words to Stuart that I typed to the girls, and yet I can’t help but be reminded of Keith’s own words less than two months ago- ‘maybe I’m dating the wrong girl’…

‘I’ll keep trying to reach him,’ Stuart replies. ‘Make sure he’s okay. In the meantime, you take care of yourself.’

‘Me? I’m fine,’ I reply.

‘Yeah,’ Stuart types, ‘but think about it- Charlotte’s mum’s dead, her dad’s in prison, she’s got no other immediate family and now she’s cut herself off from her boyfriend & his family. She doesn’t have anyone to turn to.’

‘I’ll take care of myself,’ I type, but Stuart’s word resonate with me- back in the old days, when I’d just started to be Jamie-Lee, Charlotte (and, when she was available, Ellen) was my only confidante, and I can’t even begin to work out how much I confided in her. Even though we haven’t spoken in almost two months, she’s still one of the closest friends I’ve ever had. Part of me almost wants Charlotte to reach out to me, but if she does, I have no idea what I’d say…

I while away the rest of the evening chatting with Stuart and the girls on Facebook, gossiping about Charlotte, cooing over Viks’s photos and offering her advice in her new career, and planning our upcoming holiday. As I climb into bed at 10:30pm though, my iPad (and its almost dead battery) still in hand, I can’t help but obsess over Stuart’s words. Right now, Charlotte will be alone, frightened and hounded by the press. I wouldn’t wish that sort of hostility on my worst enemy, even if Charlotte is happy to fill that role. Silently cursing myself for my soft-heartedness, I open Facebook back up and browse to Charlotte’s profile and type out a message.

‘Are you okay?’ I type, hesitating before finally hitting the ‘send button’. The message goes through immediately, but when no reply comes through after 2 minutes I put my iPad down and try desperately to get to sleep.

Fortunately I’m not working on Wednesday, so as the day dawns I can roll over in my bed and relax, knowing that nothing will force me out of my comfy, snuggly bed unless I specifically want it to. Almost immediately as I get settled, however, a knock comes from my front door, and as I try to dismiss it as the postman, a call comes from downstairs.

“Jamie!” Mum yells. “Come down here!” Sighing, I swing my bare legs out of bed and pull on a pink dressing gown before heading downstairs, where I find myself face-to-face with Charlotte, stood on my front doorstep. An eternity passes we stare slack-jawed at each other, neither of us sure how to react to the girl who was once our best-ever-friend, but who became the fiercest of enemies.

“Charlotte,” I say softly. Almost immediately, Charlotte starts bawling her eyes out, shaking uncontrollably as the emotion is released. My BFF instincts automatically take over and I rush forward, hugging Charlotte tightly and letting her cry herself out.

Five minutes later, after Charlotte’s had a chance to dry her eyes- and despite my mum’s protests- we’re sat together on the sofa. I have a million things I want to say to this girl, but every time I try to form a sentence in my head, the words won’t make anything even remotely satisfactory.

“I-“ I begin, but as hard as I try, the words just won’t come. “I-“

“I’m sorry,” Charlotte blubs, interrupting me. “I’m sorry for everything. Everything I did, everything I said… I wish I was dead.”

“NO!” I say forcefully, leaning forward and giving Charlotte another long hug. “Don’t you ever DARE wish that!”

“I’ve lost everything,” Charlotte moans. “And it’s my fault. Spencer & Hall have suspended me, Keith’s left me… The only thing I have in my life is you, and I don’t even deserve to have you after what I did…” I bristle as Charlotte says these words.

“You DON’T have me in your life,” I remind the distraught girl. “You went to great lengths to ensure that last month.” Charlotte pauses and stares at me, her mouth agape.

“But- but the Facebook message…” Charlotte whines.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” I say coldly. “It doesn’t mean I’m ready to pick up where we left off like nothing happened.” Charlotte’s bottom lip begins to quiver again as I speak my mind.

“What you did wasn’t just bad, it was damned near criminal,” I say. “And all because you have this pathological need not just to be better than everyone else, but to have everyone else acknowledge just how much better you are. You’re a sociopath, Charlotte, and I’m just kicking myself that it took me two years to realise it!”

“But- but I gave you everything,” Charlotte whines.

“Yes,” I concede. “And when I started going out and making my own opportunities you took it as a personal insult, almost as if in your mind it’s impossible for me to succeed on my own! I’m not saying I’m better than you- but you need to accept that I’m more than just your hanger-on!” I brace myself for the inevitable atomic backlash, but much to my surprise, Charlotte simply breaks down again. I instinctively give her another hug before getting out my phone and summoning the girls to my house. Less than twenty minutes, Mary & Hannah are on my front doorstep.

“Hi!” Hannah says happily. “Viks is busy today and obviously Krystie’s at work, so it’s just going to be the three of us today!”

“What’s so important that you dragged us out of bed this early?” Mary faux-complains.

“Because today…” I say hesitantly, leading the girls into the living room, “…it’s going to be four of us.”

“Is- is that who I think it is?” Hannah asks nervously.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” Mary asks.

“Hi Mary,” Charlotte says, her normally-confident voice suddenly sounding extremely small and quiet. “Hi, I- I’m Charlotte,” the terrified young woman says to Hannah.

“I know,” Hannah says warily. “I’m Hannah, Hannah Dexter. Nice to meet you.”

“Would you like to try answering my question now?” Mary asks, still clearly angry about the presence of her former friend.

“Charlotte doesn’t have anywhere to go,” I say stoically, sitting down next to my BFF.

“She has a massive five-bedroom house,” Mary says coldly. “She could try going there.” Seeing that Charlotte is about to burst into tears again, I place a comforting arm around her shoulders.

“Please,” I say quietly. “I think she needs us.”

“You have more reason than anyone to hate her,” Mary muses.

“And I’m saying we should give her another chance.” I motion to Mary to sit down next to Charlotte, which the Irish girl carefully does.

“What you did was despicable,” Mary says to Charlotte’s face. “But if Jamie can forgive you… So can I.” Mary gives Charlotte a cautious hug that Charlotte eagerly reciprocates.

“Thank you,” Charlotte whispers, still blinking tears out of her eyes.

“Have I told you that I’m now signed with Joshua?” Mary says, her cheeky Irish twang returning to her voice.

“Oh my god, really?” Charlotte asks, smiling for the first time since she entered the house. “So all three of you are now represented by the same guy?”

“Cough cough?” Hannah jokes.

“Sorry, sorry,” Charlotte laughs, “all four of you? Stupid me, I should’ve known you were a model the second I met you!” Hannah grins at the unexpected compliment- especially unexpected when coming from Charlotte.

“All FIVE of us, actually,” Mary says smugly. Charlotte simply sighs and rolls her eyes.

“I have a LOT to catch up on,” Charlotte says.

The four of us spend the next few hours catching up, with Mary filling Charlotte in about her upcoming university, Hannah and Charlotte getting to know each other, and Charlotte grilling me about my media appearances. We decide to head out for lunch just after 12- with me of course changing into a cute blue summer dress and a pair of cork wedges first- but before we depart, mum drags me into the kitchen for a private word.

“Are you SURE you can trust her again?” Mum asks. “Everything’s going so well for you right now, and you know how destructive an influence she can be.”

“I really do think she’s changed,” I say. “You saw how she listened to Mary about her uni, she didn’t judge her, she didn’t make any snide or sarcastic comments… I really do think this ‘trial by fire’ the media’s put her through has made her a better person.”

“You just be careful,” mum says, giving me a quick hug. “You are the most precious thing in the universe, I can’t bear to see you hurting again.”

“I’ll be fine,” I laugh reassuringly. “It’s not ‘Charlotte’s gang’ any more. I think she realises that now."

“You just make sure you don’t take her place and become like her!” Mum jokes.

After lunch- during which Charlotte and Hannah quickly become firm friends, and we fortunately evade the paparazzi- we decide to head to Krystie’s dance studio to surprise her. Charlotte is understandably wary- Krystie’s probably the only person we know who can be as strong-willed as her- but after Mary and I offer to talk to Krystie to calm her down, she nervously agrees to come with us.

When we step in the studio, much to our chagrin, it’s full of adult students waiting to go into their class. Most of the women are older than us, but a couple are younger, in their late teens, meaning we get the inevitable whispered comments of ‘oh my god is that Charlotte’ and ‘oh my god is that Jamie-Lee Burke’ as we sit down and wait for our friend.

“This place looks really nice,” Charlotte comments. “Kinda wish I had my leotard and my pointes with me…”

“Oh, I’m sure Krystie will let you sign up, provided you have your credit card with you,” Hannah jokes, making Charlotte laugh, much to my relief.

“Ballet’s boring when you’re doing it by yourself,” Charlotte complains. Before we can agree, the doors to the studio open and Krystie’s students- young teenagers in standard ballet uniforms and pointe shoes- spill out, closely followed by their teacher.

“Hey Krys!” Mary says, approaching the slightly startled girl.

“Mary?” Krystie asks. “What are you doing here?”

“Got someone who might want to sign up for your class,” Mary jokes, leading Krystie over to the three of us. When Krystie sees who’s sat between myself and Hannah, her eyes go as wide as sinner plates.

“You!?” Krystie asks angrily.

“Hi Krystie,” Charlotte says nervously. “Love what you’ve done with the studio.” Shaking her head, Krystie drags Charlotte into the studio- insisting that she remove her stilettos first, of course- and the three of us follow, also taking care to remove our street shoes.

“Let me guess- after Keith chucked you, you decided that we’d just take you back like nothing happened, right?” Krystie asks angrily.

“Krystie,” I say quietly, trying to defuse the situation.

“I’ve lost everything,” Charlotte begs. “Spencer and Hall aren’t returning my calls…”

“And whose fault is that?” Krystie asks smugly, adopting far more of Charlotte’s mannerisms than any of us are comfortable with.

“Mine,” Charlotte confesses. “100% mine. I was bossy, I was monstrous, I was a selfish bitch and if I could turn back time I’d do everything differently. But I can’t. All I can do is apologise and beg for your forgiveness.” By now, Charlotte is slowly weeping, and I can see the hardness visibly drain from Krystie’s face. Without saying another word, the tall ballet teacher steps forward and hugs the stricken girl tightly, a hug that the rest of us happily join in with.

“Didn’t you say there was a fifth girl to your group?” Charlotte asks after the hug ends, triggering a mass giggle!

After leaving Krystie to her class (and earning more whispers from the teenagers as we left), the ‘Charlotte Comeback Tour’ hopped in Mary’s car- with Charlotte uncharacteristically sitting in the back, next to Hannah- and drove to Viks’s parents’ house. After exiting the car, Hannah rings the doorbell- giggling excitedly about the prank she was about to play on her friend- whilst Charlotte hides out of sight.

“Oh, hi Hannah,” Viks’s mother says when she sees the tall blonde girl on her doorstep. “I’ll just go and get Vicky.” Still giggling, Hannah and Charlotte quickly swap places, and when Viks comes to the door, her eyes go as wide as Krystie’s had earlier.

“Hi,” Charlotte says, professionally extending her hand for a handshake. “I’m Charlotte Hutchinson, and everything you’ve heard about me is probably true.” Smiling wearily, Viks shakes Charlotte’s hand then pokes her head out the door.

“Hannah!” Viks yells. “Very funny!” Hannah simply giggles and gives her best friend a quick hug as Charlotte smiles.

“The girls tell me you’re a model too,” Charlotte says, laughing along with Hannah. “What took you so long to come to your senses and sign with Joshua?”

“A complete lack of self-confidence,” Hannah jokes, making Viks rolls her eyes frustratedly.

“If it wasn’t for Hannah and Jamie I’d probably never have signed,” Viks sighs. “In fact, from what I understand from Jamie, if it wasn’t for you, SHE’D probably never have signed.”

“Hey,” Hannah says to Charlotte with a cheeky grin, “so you’re, like, Viks’s modelling grandma!” Charlotte’s face falls at the teasing, but she still manages to force a giggle out.

“No, I don’t wanna be grandma!” Charlotte mock-complains.

“I can’t really get away right now,” Viks says with a grimace, “but I can drop round later, if you’d like?”

“Do you have my address or would you like it?” Charlotte asks, prompting an awkward silence that I step into to try to defuse.

“Actually, we usually hang out at Jamie’s house,” Viks stutters.

“Oh, okay,” Charlotte says, visibly hurt by the revelation.

“I’m sure we can change things up, just for one night,” I interrupt. “See you at 7?”

“Um, sure!” Viks says. “I’ll pick Krys up and see you then!”

“Thanks,” Charlotte says as we walk back to Mary’s car. “I really didn’t want to be alone again tonight.”

“I… Don’t think I’m ready to move back in, not yet anyway,” I sigh. “I can probably persuade my parents to let you sleep on my sofa tonight, though.”

“Sofa?” Charlotte asks, some of her old ego seeping through. “Really?”

“It’s either that or we drive the tabloids mad by sharing a bed,” I retort, sticking my tongue out at Charlotte.

“And in fairness, she is REALLY cuddly in bed,” Hannah giggles, reaching forward in the car and trying to give me a hug!

“I think I’ve had just about enough of the tabloid press as I can stick for one lifetime!” Charlotte laughs. “But… It would be nice to have someone else in bed, even if it just a friend.” I glance back at Charlotte, and I’ve never seen her look so vulnerable. As much as she needed to reconcile with her three old friends- and meet her two new friends- it’s not female companionship that she’s really craving right now. I glance down at my phone to see if Keith’s replied to my Facebook message- and unsurprisingly, he hasn’t. After calling my parents to explain what’s happening- somewhat understandably, they’re still wary about me spending any time with Charlotte- we arrive at my old home just after 5pm.

I get one of the weirdest feelings of my life as I pass through the front door into the entrance hall. The place hasn’t changed at all since I left- right down to my butt print on what used to be my sofa- but it just doesn’t feel like ‘home’ any more.

“I’ll open a bottle of wine,” Charlotte says as Mary, Hannah and I make ourselves comfortable in the living room.

“She’s nothing like you described,” Hannah muses.

“She’s been torn apart by the press,” I say. “I think she’s finally realising that the world doesn’t revolve around her, and it’s come as a massive shock to her system.”

“I definitely prefer the new Charlotte,” Mary states. “The old one simply didn’t have a sense of humour.”

“Do you reckon you’ll be BFFs again?” Hannah asks. I go silent as I try to think of a response to this question.

“I- don’t know…” I sigh. “Over the last couple of months there were times when I’d have given anything to be Charlotte’s friend again, but if I had to choose between her and you four? No contest, I’d take you every time.”

“Aww,” Hannah sighs.

“Jamie?” Charlotte calls from the kitchen. “Can you give me a hand, please?” I roll my eyes and rise from my comfy sofa to go and help Charlotte.

“It’s like you never moved out!” Mary jokes, deflecting away the cushion I toss her way as I leave the living room!

“What’s up?” I ask as I enter the kitchen.

“I just wanted to thank you,” Charlotte says quietly. “Thank you for everything. I don’t think I realised until today just how much you mean to me, you and the girls.”

“It wasn’t easy,” I say bluntly. “What you did, what you said… But you’re the closest friend I ever had. I guess that’s why it hurt so much, because I loved you so much.”

“’Loved’ past tense?” Charlotte asks hopefully.

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “But I wouldn’t be here if the only thing I felt for you was hate.” Seeing that Charlotte is close to tears once again, I give her yet another tight, sisterly hug.

“I- I love you, Jamie,” Charlotte weeps. “Please let’s never fight again.”

“I- I love you too, Charlotte,” I mutter, blinking back tears of my own.

“From now on, as far as I’m concerned, it’s not ‘Charlotte’s gang’ any more,” Charlotte says. “’Jamie’s gang’ sounds much better.”

“Nah,” I joke, remembering mum's earlier advice. “’Charlotte. Jamie, Krystie, Mary, Hannah and Victoria’s gang’ sounds best of all!” Charlotte grins widely and give me another hug, before we head back to our expectant guests.

As promised, Krystie & Viks arrive at 7pm and we quickly descend into a night of wine, gossip and Sex and the City DVDs. It didn’t take long for the topic of the upcoming ‘girls weekend’ to crop up, and whilst Charlotte was originally insistent that it be something for just the five of us, we quickly persuaded her otherwise- but only on the condition that she also throw Viks one of her legendary themed parties, something Charlotte was only too happy to do! We eventually depart at 10pm, with Viks & Mary- the only ones among us still sober- driving the rest of us back to our respective homes.

“God, this was a great night,” Krystie sighs from the back seat of Mary’s car. “Tomorrow will be awesome!”

“What’s happening tomorrow?” Charlotte asks, bringing grimaces to mine & Mary’s faces. An awkward pause fills the car, before Charlotte realises her faux pas.

“Oh shit!” Charlotte exclaims, clamping her hand over her mouth. “It’s your 21st! Oh my god, I am SO sorry! I completely forgot!”

“Oh relax,” Krystie orders. “We’ve only been friends again for nine hours.”

“We’re going to have a shopping spree, followed by an extended stay at the salon,” I explain.

“That sounds like SO much fun,” Charlotte sighs. “I can’t wait to see the pictures!”

“Screw that, you’re coming!” Krystie shouts.

“Is that really appropriate?” Charlotte asks.

“Shit yeah!” Krystie says. “It’s my party and I’ll invite who I want!” Charlotte relaxes back in her seat and lets out a long, contended sigh.

“I love you guys so much,” Charlotte coos. “Whether we’re the ‘fab four’ or the ‘super six’.”

“’Super six’ for the win!” Mary laughs as we drive on into the night.

“Hi Jamie,” dad says happily as I unlock my front door, before his mood sours as he sees my companion. “Hello Charlotte, I hope you’re well.”

“I’ve been better,” Charlotte says, still a little tipsy- as am I- from the evening’s events. “Thank you so much for putting me up tonight…”

“We don’t get many millionaires sleeping on our sofa,” dad jokes.

“Oh, that’s okay, Charlotte’s sleeping in my bed,” I say with a smirk.

“Okay,” dad says, confused. “And where will you be sleeping?”

“Also in my bed,” I say, making it clear that I’m stating the obvious. Dad just sighs and shakes his head.

“First you’re at each other’s throats, now you’re sharing a bed,” dad grumbles. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand girls.”

“Don’t worry about it Mr T,” Charlotte giggles, “No man does!”

“I pity the fool who thinks he understands girls!” I bellow in my best Mr. T impersonation, making myself and Charlotte nearly collapse with laughter as we stumble drunkenly up the stairs.

“I pity the fool who thinks he understands girls!” I bellow in my best Mr. T impersonation, making myself and Charlotte nearly collapse with laughter as we stumble drunkenly up the stairs.

“So comfy,” Charlotte purrs as she collapses on my bed, still wearing her dress and heels.

“I’ll pick you out a nightie to wear,” I say, fishing through my drawers for a nightdress I don’t mind lending out.

“The last few months I’ve got used to sleeping naked,” Charlotte giggles, before sighing sadly. “God I miss him already…” I bite my lip- it’s Charlotte’s fault that Keith left her, and whilst she knows this, she clearly doesn’t need reminding of it.

“Just get some sleep,” I command, throwing Charlotte a plain cotton nightie.

"Yes ma'am," Charlotte mock-salutes as she strips fully naked in front of me, causing me to avert my eyes.

"Oh stop being so squeamish," Charlotte says, stretching her naked body out before pulling on the nightie. "My lady parts aren't THAT bad, right?"

"I just... know which gender I prefer to look at naked," I joke, before sighing when it becomes obvious that Charlotte ISN'T going to avert her gaze.

"I showed you mine..." Charlotte coos as she climbs under the bedclothes. Rolling my eyes, I pull my dress of and unclip my bra, letting my breasts hang freely.

"Good to see they're still worth the money I paid for them!" Charlotte jokes as I pull on my own nightie.

"You know, it really is like I've had them my whole life," I muse, playfully cupping my breasts. "And that's all you're going to see tonight." I poke my tongue out at Charlotte and climb into bed next to her.

“Mmm,” Charlotte sighs as she gives me a soft cuddle. “Sometimes, I wish I was a lesbian, girls are so much sexier than boys!”

“Nah, girls don’t have what I need!” I joke, playfully cuddling Charlotte back.

“You do,” Charlotte laughs, before her eyes go wide as she realises her faux pas. “Oh, um, I mean-“

“Conversation topic change!” I announce loudly, pulling away from Charlotte’s hug. “Our girls weekend next month- France or Spain?”

“Oh, it’s GOT to be Spain,” Charlotte laughs. “The hotter the weather, the better the tan! Though Viks seems plenty tanned already!”

“That was straight out of a bottle,” I joke. “Wanted to get her looking her sexiest for her interview with Joshua. Poor girl’s got no self-confidence at all.”

“Why the hell not?” Charlotte asks.

“I dunno,” I reply. “Maybe she feels as a size 12 hanging out with four- now five- size 8 models she feels out of place.”

“Bullshit,” Charlotte snorts. “Put a million straight men in front of her, I guarantee nine hundred and ninety-nine thousand will want to sleep with her.”

“…And she’d spend the next hour wondering why she’s so unattractive to the other thousand,” I muse.

“If she’s so self-conscious why’d she start hanging out with you?” Charlotte asks.

“Hannah,” I explain. “With me and Krystie starting other careers and Mary going part-time in September when she goes to uni, Joshua’s started pushing her as his ‘number one’, so he shoehorned her into our group when you- well, you know.”

“Hannah is PROPERLY hot,” Charlotte says. “She seems like really good fun, too.”

“She is,” I say with a smile. “I reckon- well, okay, my mum reckons that Joshua’s going to try to promote us as a group, get us a reality show or something like that.”

“’Joshua’s angels’,” Charlotte laughs. “I love it! I’d watch!”

“Dunno whether Spencer & Hall would like that title,” I muse. “And we’re CERTAINLY not doing anything like that without you.”

“Fuck Spencer and Hall,” Charlotte sighs. “Signing for them was the worst mistake of my life.”

“Okay, now I KNOW that’s the booze talking,” I say, concerned by Charlotte’s increasingly-uncharacteristic behaviour. “You wouldn’t be nearly as famous if it wasn’t for them…”

“Yeah, and look what it’s got me,” Charlotte whinges. “The press crawling up my ass at every turn, no freedom to do what I really want, an employer who treats me like just another statistic…”

“You miss being a big fish in a small pond?” I think aloud.

“Not JUST that,” Charlotte sighs. “You know Joshua, you know he genuinely loves all of his reps, even with how big he’s got recently thanks to you, he treats even his part-timers like family. You just don’t get that at Spencer and Hall.”

“Well don’t make any hasty decision whilst you’re pissed,” I advise. “Get some sleep and think about it in the morning.”

“Will do,” Charlotte says, snuggling into her pillow. “Night Jamie!”

“Night Charlotte!” I say happily, giggling and giving my BFF a quick peck on the forehead.

My alarm wakes me up at 8am and I quickly click it off before the buzzing turns my hangover into a migraine.

“Charlotte,” I whisper, ruffling the short blonde hair in front of my face.

“Mmm,” Charlotte moans contentedly. “Come on Keith, just another ten minutes…” I smile sadly at her tired confusion, almost feeling guilty that I have to bring her back to reality.

“Come on, wake up!” I say, shaking her awake. “Big day of shopping and makeovers ahead!”

“Jamie?” Charlotte asks, squinting her eyes in the bright sunlight. “Oh, oh right! Krystie! Umm, just let me get my dress on, I’ll shower and change at my house!” I giggle as Charlotte takes off her nightie- again feeling no shame or embarrassment at showing her completely naked form to me.

“I’ve got some new underwear if you want to borrow it,” I giggle as Charlotte scoops up yesterday’s underwear and stuffs it in her bag. “Great thing about doing endorsements, not that I need to tell you that!”

“Is that from the show you did on Tuesday?” Charlotte asks, making my jaw drop with surprise.

“You- you watched that?” I ask.

“Oh Jamie, of course I watched it!” Charlotte exclaims, giving me a quick hug (fortunately she’s already put her dress back on). “I still follow you on twitter, I still follow your Facebook fan page… At first, yes, it was ego, to see what you wrote about me, but you’re so talented and so beautiful… I genuinely am a fan of yours!” I have to wipe a tear out of the corner of my eye as Charlotte gives me probably the biggest compliment she’s given me in the 2 ½ years we’ve known each other.

“Thank you, thank you so much!” I blub as Charlotte hugs me tighter.

“Now get showered and dressed!” Charlotte orders. “The more time we spend gossiping, the less time we spend shopping!” I laugh and nod, heading to the bathroom as Charlotte picks an unworn bra and thong set out of my drawers and slips the dainty items on.

I sigh happily as I quickly shower and apply a light layer of make-up- we'll be at the salon later today, so no need to do any hard work until then. After blow-drying and brushing my hair out to increase its volume, I head back to my bedroom and drop my towel, eliciting wolf whistles from Charlotte! I opt against a vagina panty- I really don't need it today- and pull on a plain white bra and brief set before throwing on a patterned summer dress and grabbing a pair of strappy heeled sandals which I carry downstairs to the breakfast table- which has already been filled with coffee and cereals for us to choose from.

"Morning!" Mum says happily. "Did you girls sleep okay?"

"Like a baby," Charlotte says happily. "Thank you so much for letting me stay, I really didn't want to go back to that big house alone."

"Any friend of Jamie's is always welcome here," mum says politely, but making it VERY clear that Charlotte's welcome here is conditional. "What have you got planned for today?"

"We're heading round to Krystie's parents' house early," I explain. "She opens her presents, we go out shopping, then the salon, then the big evening meal with her friends and family."

"And if not for the coffee, we'd all be dead by 1pm!" Charlotte jokes, sipping the sweet black liquid.

After finishing breakfast, I put on my shoes and get ready for the full day ahead!

“Bye mum!” I call to my mother as I lead Charlotte out of the house and to my car, our arms full of carefully-wrapped gifts. Obviously, Charlotte hasn't had a chance to shop for gifts for Krystie, but whilst I was getting dressed she let herself onto my laptop and printed out several vouchers for high-end online clothing and make-up stores, hastily stuffing them into pink party envelopes and adding them to the pile.

“Have fun, and take care!” Mum yells after us as we shut the front door. “Both of you!”

“Your mum’s so great,” Charlotte says as we pack Krystie’s expensive gifts into my boot. “Your dad, too. It’s no wonder I’m so messed up when you look at my dad!”

“Have you spoken to him recently?” I ask, aware that I’m touching a sensitive area.

“He died,” Charlotte says quietly, making me gasp. “About three months ago. Heart attack.”

“Oh my god,” I say. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry- I had no idea!”

“You weren’t to know,” Charlotte sighed.

“Three months ago I was still your BFF,” I say. “I should’ve known, it was my job to know and to be there for you!”

“Three months ago you were having your big, public coming out,” Charlotte laughs. “I didn’t want to burden you with this as well.”

“Being there for a friend isn’t a burden!” I retort. “You were there for me… I guess I understand now why you felt like I was being so selfish- because I was…”

“No, I was just being paranoid,” Charlotte moans. “Driving you away is the worst thing I’ve ever done and I’m so glad I’ve got you back. There’s nothing more important than family, and given that I don’t have any parents any more, I could really use a sister right about now!”

“How about five sisters?” I ask with a smile as we pull up outside Krystie’s parents’ house.

“Even better!” Charlotte yells excitedly. It doesn’t take long for us to empty Krystie’s vast present pile out of the boot and stack it on her front doorstep. Giggling, excitedly, Charlotte and I ring the doorbell and are greeted by the hungover face of the birthday girl.

“Happy birthday!” Charlotte and I yell excitedly, pulling Krystie into a tight group hug.

“Hey, hey!” Krystie complains. “Not so tight and not so loud!”

“Come on,” I plead, “you only turn 21 once!” Even though she’s still only wearing her slippers and dressing gown, we drag Krystie outside to show her all her presents.

“Oh my god,” Krystie exclaims, perking up at the sight of her gifts. “This is too much!”

“Don’t be silly,” Charlotte says dismissively. “I’m a millionaire and Jamie’s well on her way to being one too, if anything this isn’t enough!” Krystie simply sighs and gives us both another tight hug.

“Thank you both SO much!” The tall girl says.

“Now let’s get them inside so you can open them!” Charlotte orders, scooping up a large armful of presents and hauling them inside.

Krystie’s parents aren’t rich- and have three other children besides Krystie, two of whom still live at home- but they really made an effort for their daughter’s special day. Our present pile, whilst big, was dwarfed by the pile from Krystie’s parents & grandparents, and her older sister- a teacher- also spoiled Krystie something rotten. When you add in Mary’s, Hannah’s and Viks’s parents, Krystie must have had close to £5000 spent on her in terms of presents- not counting the upcoming £2500 shopping spree!

“This is so amazing,” Krystie says after she finishes unwrapping her presents just after 10am. “Thank you all so, so much! I really am the luckiest girl in the world!”

“No,” Mary says, giving Krystie a tight hug. “WE’RE the luckiest girls in the world to have you as our friend!”

“Puke!” One of Krystie’s younger brothers yells, making the room laugh.

“Now I know you don’t want to spend all day cooped up inside,” Krystie’s mum states. “Your friends are all dressed up for a day out and you’ve got six new outfits, go and put one on and have some fun!”

“All right!” Krystie yells happily, skipping upstairs with one of her brand-new designer dresses in her arms. Once she’s gone, Krystie’s parents turn their attention to the five of us.

“Thank you all so much for what you’ve done for her,” Krystie’s mother says to us. “After she had her… Issues… Last year, I was worried that we’d end up losing our little girl, but now she’s got her own successful business, she’s got friends who truly care about her…”

“As far as we’re concerned,” I say, trying to sound respectful, “Krystie’s a part of our family, there isn’t anything we wouldn’t do for her.”

“Again, puke!” Krystie’s younger brother yells, this time earning himself a playful whack from his dad!

“Ready now!” Krystie yells, elegantly descending the stairs in her new dress, a short, sleeveless, floaty blue dress with matching high-heeled sandals. With her dark nail polish, immaculate make-up and curled, bouncy hair, she looks every bit the glamorous fashion model that she truly is.

“Oh my god,” Charlotte exclaims. “That dress suits you SO well!” Krystie makes sure to give us all hugs, before demanding that the six of us all pose for photos and selfies in our dresses- which takes about five minutes in total before we finally head out shopping!

Needless to say, Krystie blows through her £2500 clothing budget VERY quickly- mostly on dresses, shoes and handbags with some money going on make-up, perfume and lingerie and, much to the group’s chagrin, some of the money going on new leotards and tights for her work. After dropping the bags- that fill both my boots and Mary’s- back at Krystie’s parents’ house, we head on off to the salon for a full treatment- facials, bikini waxes, body wraps, manicures, pedicures- you name it, we did it. It’s well past 6:30pm when we arrive back at Krystie’s parents’ house, exhausted but still with plenty of celebrating to do!

As I head into the bathroom to change into my new dress for the evening meal (Krystie insisted that we all buy something for ourselves, something we didn’t need much persuasion to do!), I check my phone for any messages, and nearly drop the phone in the toilet when I see the notification on the front screen.

‘Keith Hartley: Hey Jamie’

Suddenly feeling VERY anxious, I open the messaging app on my phone and type a reply.

‘Are you alright?’ I type.

‘Not really’, comes the inevitable reply. ‘I see that you’ve made up with Charlotte.'

‘How do you know that?’ I naively ask, before remembering that paparazzi aren’t always as overt as they have been in the past. ‘Don’t tell me- the sidebar of shame?’

‘Yep,’ Keith replies. ‘I still get emailed every time you or Charlotte crop up on one of their stories.’ Now THIS is news- it’s a no-brainer that he’d have subscribed to news stories about Charlotte, but me as well?

‘She showed up on my doorstep,’ I explain. ‘I really think she’s hit rock bottom.’

‘Good,’ Keith replies, his spite obvious even in text form.

‘You can’t mean that,’ I type. ‘I know you loved her, you can’t throw seven years away just like that.’

‘She did,’ Keith replies. ‘Has she even told you why she did it?’

‘No,’ I reply. ‘I haven’t asked, and I’m not going to. All I know is that she regrets it more than anything she’s ever done. She NEEDS you.’ When Keith doesn’t reply, I hastily type out another message. ‘Now’s really not a good time, about to head out for Krys’s bday meal. Can we talk tomorrow?’

‘Sure,’ Keith replies. ‘It’d be better to talk in person, can you come to my parents’ house tomorrow morning?’

‘Sure,’ I reply. ‘Just text me the address and I’ll be there.’ After receiving the address- followed by a smiley face- I log out of the messaging app and slip on my outfit for the night. I picked out a very chic, very slinky dress on my shopping trip that I carefully step into after stripping off my bra. The dress is a very dark blue, knee-length and has very thin straps and a plunging neckline that shows off a generous amount of cleavage! After stepping into a pair of matching stilettos (that are also from today’s shopping trip) and touching up my make-up and nails, I head downstairs to where five equally beautiful women- and the rest of Krystie’s family- are waiting for me. As part of my birthday ‘treat’ (and because it was so much fun at our ‘prom’ earlier in the year) I’ve booked two limos to take the party to the restaurant- one for the six of us and one for Krystie’s parents and siblings. Once we’re all piled into the back of our fancy car, Charlotte immediately opens a bottle of champagne.

“To the birthday girl!” Charlotte toasts.

“Oh my god, you guys,” Krystie exclaims as we clink our glasses, “this is the best birthday ever!”

“It’s your 21st,” Mary laughs. “It’s supposed to be!”

“Can’t wait to see what you’ve all got lined up for mine!” Hannah jokes.

“Excuse me?” I ask, mock-offended. “Whose birthday’s up next?”

“It’s a 22nd, it’s not as important,” Hannah retorts, sticking her tongue out at me before giving me a quick hug as the car descends into fits of laughter, laughter that doesn’t stop until we reach the restaurant, and even throughout the meal as vast quantities of champagne were consumed by all (with the obvious exception of Krystie’s underage brothers). It isn’t until 11:15pm that the party exits the restaurant, drunk, exhausted but exhilarated.

“You know what,” Krystie laughs as we get back in the limo, “I don’t need a ‘theme’ for my birthday. Gimme me family, my girls and my booze and that’s all I need!”

“I can drink to that!” Mary laughs as we clink our glasses and down yet more champagne.

“Does this mean we can put the costumes back in storage?” I ask.

“HELL no,” Krystie answers. “I want to be a sugar plum fairy, and dammit, that’s what I’m gonna be!”

“I’m guessing you’ve reworked the routine without me, then?” Charlotte asks sombrely, bringing the mood of the limo crashing down.

“Yeah,” Krystie admits. “But that just means we’ll have to change it again to accommodate all six of us!” After more cheering, the limo speeds off into the busy London night, quickly arriving at its first destination- Charlotte’s house.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay in there tonight?” I ask, getting out of the limo and walking the wobbly girl to her door (despite being plenty wobbly myself!).

“I’ll be fine,” Charlotte laughs. “Now I’ve got my girls!”

“Good,” I say. “Next time I share my bed with someone, that person had better have a penis!”

“Oh, admit it, you had fun,” Charlotte insists, leaning forward and giving me a quick, playful kiss on the lips.

“Goodnight, Charlotte,” I say with a smile.

I eventually arrive home just before midnight and immediately climb into bed (after taking my expensive dress off first, of course), not wanting to wake my parents. I make a point of switching my alarm off- something I’m grateful for when I wake up the next morning with a splitting headache.

“Morning!” Mum says as I descend the stairs. “Hung over or still drunk from last night?”

“Bit of both, mostly the first one,” I complain as I slump into a kitchen chair.

“Well, enjoy it whilst you’re young, I guess,” mum laughs as she provides me with a much-needed mug of coffee. “Though I hope you’re not having another night out tonight!”

“Nooo,” I answer. “Need to get an early night ahead of the big show tomorrow!”

“Oh yes,” mum says, a huge smile creeping across her face. “I get to put another photo of my daughter the dancer on my wall!” I smile and sip my coffee.

“Just so you’re aware, I’m NOT having a ballet theme for my 22nd,” I joke. “3 in a row is maybe pushing it a bit too far!” Mum simply giggles and sits down opposite me.

“What do you have planned for today?” She asks. “Other than recovering from a hangover, of course.”

“Not much,” I lie, remembering yesterday’s conversation with Keith. “I’ll probably meet the girls for lunch if they’re free.”

“I’d have thought you’d need time to practise!” Mum jokes.

“Can’t,” I laugh. “Krystie’s teaching today so we’ve got nowhere TO practise.”

“What about Charlotte’s house?” Mum asks. “Doesn’t she still have that private dance studio?” I roll my eyes as I remember- and as I realise just how far I’d moved on from Charlotte before she came back into my life.

“Duh, of course!” I joke, giggling. “I’ll drop in on her after lunch, see if she’s up for a little practise.”

“You know,” mum muses, “I wasn’t sure at first that you and her being friends again was a good idea, but I can see now that she really has changed- and you do look so much happier.”

“Even through the hangover?” I ask, prompting fits of giggles from both of us!

I run through my morning routine quickly with the exception of my make-up. I'm going to see Keith- a man I have intensely passionate feelings for, but who I need to drive back into Charlotte's arms, so I can't lay the make-up on too thick, but then again, I can hardly see him bare-faced. In the end I opt for subtle eye shadow and lipstick, but relatively thick eyeliner and mascara. I dress casually- just a chic tank top and tight black miniskirt, and of course another trusty pair of wedges. After spraying on some neutral-smelling perfume, I grab my iPad and open up Facebook, opening a new chat window with Stuart.

'Hey,' I type. Much to my relief, Stuart replies immediately.

'Hi, what's up?' Stuart replies.

'I'm just off to see Keith,' I answer.

'Erk,' Stuart replies, much to my chagrin. 'Really not sure that's a good idea, he's not seen anyone in days.'

'It was actually him who invited me round,' I explain. 'He texted me last night before Krys's party, said he wanted to see me in person.'

'Be careful,' Stuart types. 'He's vulnerable right now, and so are you, what with this whole Charlotte thing.'

'Oh I'll be fine,' I reply. 'I just need to talk to him. Make him see how much he needs Charlotte and vice versa. And don't say he doesn't- he wouldn't be cutting himself off from everyone if that were the case.'

'It should be a guy who tells him that,' Stuart says.

'Don't forget I've known him longer than almost anyone,' I retort. 'I know I can get through to him.'

'Obviously I'm not going to change your mind,' Stuart types with an air of resignation to his words. 'Just be careful. This has the potential to go really bad. Just call it male intuition if you want.'

'Lol,' I reply, genuinely tickled by Stuart's transgender humour. 'I'll be fine. Will you be coming tomorrow?'

'Of course,' Stuart types with a smiley face. 'Krystie's still my friend, even if we aren't together any more. As are you!' I reply with another smiley face.

'See you tomorrow, Stu,' I type, closing down the app and grabbing my handbag. After saying goodbye to mum I get in my car and drive directly to Keith’s parents’ house where I eagerly knock on the door. Within seconds, a middle-aged man- Keith’s father, whom I’ve only met once before.

“Charlotte?” The older man asked. “I really don’t think you should be here. It’d be best if you went now.”

“Wait!” I say, blocking the door before it can be slammed in my face. “I’m not Charlotte!” Mr Hartley squints, taking a closer look at me.

“Oh!” Keith’s father exclaims. “Oh, Jamie! I’m sorry, you two look really alike without my glasses on. Come on in.”

“Thanks,” I say nervously. I’d never been to Keith’s house before, but it’s a pretty overwhelming experience- the house is easily as large as Charlotte’s house, if not larger, and my little Clio stuck out like a sore thumb on the driveway next to the family’s shiny new Mercedes and Jaguars. After removing my shoes, I’m quickly shown up to Keith’s bedroom, where he’s laid out on his massive bed.

“Hey,” I say softly as I enter the darkened room.

“Hey,” Keith croaks. “How are things?”

“Not bad,” I say. “Keith…”

“Don’t,” Keith says bluntly. “Don’t tell me she misses me. Don’t tell me she can’t live without me. I know that’s not true.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, unable to think of anything better to say.

“For what?” Keith asks. I can only sigh in response.

“I don’t know,” I mumble as I sit down on the edge of Keith’s bed. “For accepting Charlotte back with- okay, they weren’t exactly OPEN arms…”

“You don’t need to be sorry about that,” Keith sighs, sitting up on his bed next to me. “She needs a best friend right now.”

“So do you,” I whisper. "If not a best friend, then SOMEONE."

“Maybe,” Keith replies. “Charlotte doesn’t deserve to have a friend as good as you.” Keith gently places one of his hands on top of mine and my brain starts doing cartwheels. “Sometimes I think I really did go out with the wrong girl.” By now my heart is pounding. I came here trying to play peacemaker between Keith and Charlotte, but he’s now coming on to ME…

“Keith…” I say, trying and failing to find a continuation to that sentence. Keith leans in closer to me and his scent wafts into my nostrils, making me breathe long and deep. I’d genuinely forgotten just how amazing this man smelt… And felt…

“Jamie…” Keith whispers, leaning in and placing a slow, soft kiss on my lips. Time slows down as I feel his taste seep into my mouth, and when he breaks away, all I can do is stared at him, stunned into silence. Before I can help myself I launch myself at him, kissing him deeply, passionately and offering no resistance as he pulls my top and skirt off, flinging them across the room. I quickly pull off his t-shirt and shorts and hurl them away as we collapse back on the bed, our tongues entwined, our hands exploring each other's bodies.

I unzip Keith's fly and moan with pleasure as I feel his powerful penis spring into my hand. In an instant, Keith's expert digits have unhooked my bra and sent that to his bedroom floor, before gently massaging my breasts, his red-hot fingertips lingering on my nipples just long enough to send them as rock-hard as his penis. I open my mouth wide and prepare to have his organ into me, before a lucid moment strikes, and I remember Charlotte in bed with me the night before last, the regret in her eyes almost palpable. She's my best friend, the best friend I've ever had, I can't do this to her...

“No,” I say, breaking away from Keith’s embrace.

“No?” Keith asks, clearly disappointed. “Jamie, I- I don’t mind that you don’t have, you know, the ‘right equipment’ yet, I’m happy to do it the way you and Paul-“

“It’s not that,” I sigh, putting my bra back on and scooping my skirt and top off the floor. ”You’re Charlotte’s boyfriend. This… This just isn’t right.” I feel a lump form in my throat as I say the words that might very well permanently drive the man I love away from me.

“I’m not Charlotte’s boyfriend any more,” Keith insists. “She made damn sure of that! And so what, anyway?” I try to remember the old advice I read online about how to not fancy someone you’re infatuated with- focus on a negative quality. 12 months ago, he called me a ‘three’. A ‘three’. A ‘three’…

“If we want to be together,” Keith asks, standing behind me and placing his hands on my bare shoulders, “why shouldn’t we be?” My skin rises in goose bumps from his touch, and the feel of his warm breath on the back of my neck. I brace myself before answering Keith’s questions- it’s been months since I last did any acting, but I am still an actress… Sort of…

“Because I don’t want you,” I lie, trying to blink back tears. “And you don’t really want me.” Keith releases his grip on me, allowing me to put my clothes back on.

“You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy what we nearly did,” Keith argues.

“I enjoyed being with ‘a boy’ again,” I concede. “But I don’t want to be your rebound.”

“We could be so much more,” Keith mumbles, his will fading.

“But we’d never be as much as you and Charlotte,” I sniffle. “You can’t tell me you don’t miss her. You can’t tell me you don’t still love her. If you didn’t love her that much… It wouldn’t hurt that much.”

“I know,” Keith sighs, collapsing back on his bed. “But I can’t go crawling back to her. If I did and she cheated on me again… I don’t think I’d be able to take it.”

“I know she won’t,” I say, smiling as I finally take control of the conversation. “If you don’t want to go to Charlotte direct, then come to Krystie’s party tomorrow- she’ll be there, you can run into her and pretend that it was at random. Say whatever it is you need to say.”

“Stu’s been trying to persuade me to go that,” Keith says. “I told him I didn’t want to be part of ‘team ex-boyfriend’, but he insists it’ll be fun… I dunno.”

“Just go along for the dance and the buffet,” I advise. “You can talk to Charlotte afterwards. Trust me when I say that if you just talk to her, it’ll be more productive than just sulking in your room alone!”

“I’m not sulking,” Keith pouts.

“Pouting in your room alone, then,” I giggle, making Keith roll his eyes.

“Okay,” Keith sighs. “I’ll text Stu.”

“Good boy,” I say mock-condescendingly. After an awkward silence, I lean forward and give Keith a soft, quick kiss on his cheek, loving the feeling of his rough stubble on my soft lips. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you, Jamie,” Keith sighs. Once I’ve left his house and returned to my car, I take a deep sigh and rest my head on the steering wheel. I’ve NEVER stopped loving Keith, since that first night when he and I were ‘intimate’. Being in his presence today- and any day- was electric, and when he touched me today with clear intentions… My heart beat more in those few minutes than it will for the rest of the day. As much as I try to remind myself that he called me ‘a three’, it’s painfully obvious that that was just him saving face in front of his friends. Today, he WANTED me, even despite my ‘status’. And I wanted him. I’ve always wanted him. I just… Can’t have him. It’s either him or Charlotte, and as much as I love Keith… I think I love Charlotte more. In a different way, obviously. I pick my phone out of my bag and dial Charlotte’s number.

“Hey Jay!” Charlotte says happily. “You not at work today, then?”

“Nah,” I say with a smile. “Got some writing to do but I can do that whenever. Doing anything for lunch?”

“I am now!” I grin as Charlotte’s happy, bubbly voice comes down the phone. Knowing that I have my BFF back definitely eases the pain of turning Keith down.

After lunch- during which we pick up Viks- we head back to Charlotte’s house.

“Hey,” I say to my BFF as we crash on her sofas, “do you still take lessons with Ellen?” I start the conversation delicately- obviously I don’t want Charlotte to know I’ve been talking to Ellen behind her back.

“Now and again,” Charlotte says. “Like I said, ballet’s boring when you’re doing it alone! I was supposed to have a lesson yesterday actually, but some things are more important!”

“Is this Ellen your private ballet tutor?” Viks asks.

“Yeah,” Charlotte explains. “Ellen Heywood, used to be a prima ballerina with the English National Ballet.” Suddenly, Viks stops dead in her tracks, startling Charlotte and myself.

“Oh. My. God!” Viks exclaims. “Ellen Heywood!?”

“You know her?” I ask, surprised by Viks’s highly uncharacteristic behaviour.

“Know her? I love her!” Viks enthuses. “When I did ballet when I was a kid I was always watching DVDs of her performances! Hey, if I bring a few round, do you think she could sign them for me?”

“That can probably be arranged,” Charlotte said, before the three of us descend into fits of giggles.

"Have you spoken to Spencer and Hall yet?" I ask.

"Like I said before, fuck them," Charlotte says confidently. "I'm seeing Joshua on Monday. If he'll have me, I'd much rather have him representing me than some soulless corporation."

"Seriously?" I ask. "Even with all the money you'll be giving up?"

"I HAVE money," Charlotte replies. "Besides, if all six of us are signed to him, maybe he'll make that reality show you know he's dreaming of a reality! Just as long as it's not called 'Charlotte's Angels'!"

"I dunno," Viks says. "I'd kinda like to be an angel!"

"You ARE an angel," Charlotte says. "All five of you are. I think we know which one us is wearing the horns and the tail!"

"You are not evil!" I chastise my BFF, giving her a quick hug. "You're one of the best people I know!"

"Oh come on," Charlotte retorts. "I'm not a good person. But can I at least get points for trying to be?"

"Absolutely!" Viks says, joining in the hug. "Like Mary says, 'Team Angels for the win!'"

We spend the rest of the day at Charlotte’s, the rest of the girls joining us later for an evening of wine, gossip, 'Team Angels' speculation and some not-entirely competent dance practice! It’s amazing how quickly I’ve fallen back into my old routine- for so long I couldn’t imagine my life without Charlotte in it, and even after living contently without her for a long time, not she’s back in my life she is once again one of the most important parts of it. And yet, I know it’s not the same friendship as it was before, because it’s not the same Charlotte as before. This is proven when I go to leave at 10pm as Charlotte walks with me to my car.

“Heyyy,” the tipsy Charlotte says nervously.

“Hey,” I reply. “What’s up?”

“Can I sleep with you again?” Charlotte asks, before giggling at her accidental innuendo. “I mean, can I share a bed with you again? Oh… You know what I mean. It’s just that I slept alone last night, and it really sucked. I really need to have someone else in bed with me, even if it is just another girl.”

“That’s probably not a good idea,” I grimace, getting in my car.

“Oh come on!” Charlotte pleads. “Pleeeeeease?”

“I can’t sleep in your bed every night!” I say.

“I’m not asking for every night,” Charlotte begs. “Just 2 or 3 a week. Come on, pretty please?” I sigh- as much as Charlotte needs to get over Keith, I can’t turn down a friend in need- and if all goes well, after tomorrow, she won’t need to sleep in my bed any more.

“Grab a nightie and a change of clothes and come on,” I concede. Charlotte cheers and gives me a hug through my car window before skipping back to her house, returning three minutes later with a fully-packed overnight bag.

“Am I really that predictable?” I ask, poking the bag.

“I prefer to live in hope, that’s all,” Charlotte giggles. When we arrive home, dad is understandably shocked by Charlotte’s presence, but simply sighs and nods. We both quickly change into our nighties- Charlotte once again being completely unashamed at stripping naked in front of me- and climb under the covers, where Charlotte snuggles up to my comparatively sober body.

“You know,” Charlotte says, wrapping one of my arms around her, “on Friday nights, Keith and I used to cuddle each other to sleep…”

“Yeah,” I say, withdrawing my arm. “Well on Saturday mornings, Paul and I used to have marathon sex sessions, and THAT’s not going to happen either.”

“Oh believe me, I know,” Charlotte says with a giggle. “You are LOUD!” I blush slightly at this revelation- whilst she is my best friend, there are some topics that are just TOO private. “How did you guys do it, anyway?”

“No comment,” I say, rolling away from Charlotte.

“Oh come on,” Charlotte pleads. “I bet you could teach me a thing or two!”

“Use your imagination,” I say, sticking my tongue out at my BFF.

"I don't have one," Charlotte jokes. "What exactly DO you do without a vagina?"

"I have two other 'entrances'," I sigh.

"Seriously?" Charlotte chuckles. "With Keith, both of those were strictly 'no entry'! I mean, what exactly's in it for us?"

"You never know until you try," I say with a coy smile, though I can't help but wonder- does this mean that I've given Keith a blowjob, but Charlotte hasn't?

"No, no no," Charlotte insists. "The next guy I date is going to treat me like a GODDESS. If anyone's using their mouth for sex, it'll be him!"

"Suit yourself," I sigh. "Though there are ways of getting an orgasm that DON'T involve a boy, you know..."

"Again, seriously?" Charlotte asks with a laugh. "I'm a good Christian girl- okay, most of the time, anyway- how can I call myself an 'Angel' if I spend all day reading Fifty Shades and playing with vibrators?"

"Go 'Team Heathen'!" I joke. "Get some sleep, you'll need it!"

"Okay, you devilish girl!" Charlotte jokes. "Night, Jamie."

"Night, Charlotte," I reply, settling my face down on my nice, cool pillow and letting my mind empty itself of all thoughts about sex, boys, and especially Keith.

We both wake up the following morning at 8am, with Charlotte having somehow wrapped my arms around her in the night. When I hear Charlotte’s moans as the sunlight hits her eyes, I’m glad I played the ‘designated driver’ role last night.

“Morning babe,” I joke, giving Charlotte a long kiss on her cheek. “It’s Saturday morning, and you know what that means…”

“…It means I need to get up and get coffee,” Charlotte says, clearly embarrassed by last night’s talk. Laughing, I untangle myself from Charlotte and we both pad downstairs in our dressing gowns.

“Morning girls!” Mum enthuses. “Big show today!” Much to my relief, Charlotte instantly perks up at the mention of today’s performance.

“So glad I bought my dance gear with me,” Charlotte giggles. “When is Krystie opening the studio today?”

“11, I think,” I answer between bites of my breakfast.

“I’ll call her after I’m dressed,” Charlotte states. “Get her to open it earlier. Got a little surprise for her…”

“Does this mean I’m going to have to be in tights for twelve straight hours on a hot summer’s day?” I moan, making both my parents laugh.

“Yes, so take along a few spare pairs!” Charlotte commands. “I know you’ve got that massive bundle from that endorsement you got. Take along a few spare leos as well, you’ll need them too!”

“What have you got planned?” I ask my BFF, who simply grins knowingly in response.

I let Charlotte go in the bathroom first- much to my dad's chagrin, who's left waiting nearly 45 minutes before we're both done. After applying subtle make-up- we'll be wearing stage make-up later on tonight, after all- we both pull on a pair of pink tights each (me donning a vagina panty first, of course) and- at Charlotte's insistence- plain black spaghetti-strapped leotards. After pulling on plain, short summer dresses, we grab our dance bags- filled with extra tights and leotards, on Charlotte's recommendation- and I grab my handbag and my car keys, making sure to give my parents both a hug on my way out. True to her word, Charlotte is already on the phone to Krystie, and once she's finished speaking, immediately starts typing on it.

“Who are you texting?” I ask as we both slide into my car.

“The girls,” Charlotte replies. “Mary, Hannah, Viks. Telling them to get their butts in gear and get to Krystie’s ASAP!” I can’t help but grin- the old Charlotte didn’t make friends easily, but the speed with which she’s accepted Hannah & Viks as ‘the girls’ really does warm the heart.

Sure enough, less than five minutes after we arrive at Krystie’s studio, we’re joined by Mary, Hannah and Viks, all of whom look as uncomfortable as I am wearing pink tights in the summer heat.

“What’s so important you dragged us here three hours early?” Hannah asks, clearly miffed at being bossed around by her new friend- something I can’t help but feel she’ll need to get used to…

“I’ve got a special birthday surprise for the six of us,” Charlotte says smugly, throwing open the doors to the studio. I look inside the room and find myself staring into the face of an old friend.

“Hi,” the middle aged woman says. “You must be Hannah and Victoria, Charlotte’s told me a lot about you both. I’m Ellen, Ellen Heywood.”

“Oh. My. God!!!!!” Viks yells, eagerly shaking Ellen’s hand. “I am such a HUGE fan of yours!”

“Viks!” Hannah yells, snapping the dark-haired girl out of her excited state. “Hi, I’m Hannah, it’s such an honour to meet you!”

“Likewise,” Ellen says, clearly a little taken aback by Viks’s fangirling. “But I’m not just here to say hi, Charlotte’s told me that you’re putting on a show tonight- I’m here to help!”

“Oh my god!” Viks squeaks again. “I’m going to take instruction from Ellen Heywood!”

“You will when you calm down a little!” Mary laughs.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Viks giggles. I can’t help but smile- a week ago Viks would have been utterly mortified to have been caught behaving the way she did. Now… She really is ‘one of the girls’. And so, once again, is Charlotte. Getting Ellen to teach this extended lesson- which must have cost her a LOT of money- was an unexpected treat all six of us can truly enjoy, and once we’re all stripped down to our leotards & tights- and Krystie’s had a chance to tie my bun- we slip back into Ellen’s style of teaching like we’d never taken any time away from it. Even Hannah and Viks- for whom this is their first lesson with Ellen- feel like they’ve been dancing with us for years.

After six hours of intensive practice- during which Ellen practically choreographs a whole new routine to accommodate the six of us- we change into our tutus for the real thing. Charlotte was, of course, highly emotional to discover that we’d kept her costume in storage ‘just in case’. The routine is only six minutes long, but in front of a live audience (mostly made up of family members and Krystie’s students), it feels like an eternity. Of course, with Ellen directing, it goes flawlessly, even with our toes sore and bruise from our hours of practice. Naturally, after the routine is over and we’ve had our thousands of photos taken (and I've had a chance to thank Ellen for our earlier conversation), we keep our ostentatious tutus on, even if it does mean we have to apply the bathroom buddy system (getting into and out of one of these costumes is very much a 2 –girl job)! With my obligation to Krystie done, I set about looking for Keith when I’m suddenly ambushed by one of the guests.

“Hi,” the brown-haired girl- who looks about 16 or 17- says to me. “Hi, um, are you- are you Jamie-Lee Burke?”

“Hi, yes I am!” I say happily, even though dealing with a fan is the last thing I need right now.

“Oh my god, I am a huge fan!” The girl says with a goofy grin. “Can- can I get a photo with you?” Rather than argue, I decide it’s probably easier just to go along with her request.

“Are you one of Krystie’s students?” I ask as the girl takes the selfie.

“Yeah,” she says. “I just started a few months ago. I’m Nikki, Nikki Thomas.”

“Nice to meet you, Nikki!” I say, before excusing myself. Fortunately, I’m not called for any more selfies before finding Keith- who as a 6’ 2” man in a season of average-height women, is thankfully easy to spot.

“Hi Jamie,” Keith says, making a very deliberate effort not to make physical contact with me (though the tutu kinda helps there). “You were great, all six of you.”

“Thanks,” I reply, enjoying basking in Keith’s praise before getting back ‘on-task’. “Follow me.” Fortunately, in her colourful costume, Charlotte is as easy to spot as Keith is, so before too long, I’ve brought the two of them together.

“Hi,” Keith says, as Charlotte stares at him, tears welling in her eyes.

“Hi,” Charlotte says, before breaking down entirely. Keith, ever the dutiful boyfriend, immediately takes hold of Charlotte’s hand and leads her into a quiet storeroom where they remain for a good twenty minutes. Needless to say, when they emerge, they’re both smiling and holding hands, looking and acting like every bit the perfect couple they were before this turbulent week ever happened.

“Let me guess,” Krystie says, leaning playfully on my shoulder. “Your idea?”

“They’re both miserable,” I sigh. “I’m sure they can get over this. You yourself saw how much she’s changed this past week.”

“And when are you going to find me a man?” Krystie sighs theatrically in my ear. “Or even a woman?” I simply cross my arms and shrug.

“I found you Stuart,” I say, making the two of us both giggle loudly.

“Yeah, he was great,” Krystie concedes. “But not QUITE what I need.”

“I know the feeling,” I sigh as I watch Charlotte and Keith, now happily together again, mingle with the crowd. I can’t help but tingle slightly as Keith looks longingly in my direction, but I know my ‘role’, and it’s not as Keith’s girlfriend, no matter how much I want him… Or how much he wants me. I’ve got my girls, and even though there are now six of us, I just know we’ll be tighter than ever. So what if I don’t have a man right now? I’m only 21, there are literally millions of fish in the sea, and right now, my life is pretty awesome. No matter what the future holds, I’m ready for it. Bring it on!