I bite my lip nervously as I watch the countryside whizz by outside my window, partly because this is, by far, the furthest I have ever travelled as ‘Dina,’ but mostly because of what lies ahead of me — and what I’ve left behind me as well.

Immediately after getting off the video call where I accepted Kelly’s invitation to be on ‘So You Want to be an Angel,’ I sent an email to my father requesting annual leave from work. While my father wasn’t happy about me asking for leave around the end of the tax year, he was more sympathetic when I explained it was because of a girl. I, of course, didn’t tell him that the girl in question was myself.

I spent the next few days continuing to build my social media presence, creating videos and queuing them for upload while I was away, in-between discussions with my new ‘mentor’ about what to expect.

“The filming will all take place in a mansion in Lincolnshire,” Kelly had explained to me. “Eliminations will take place every four days, and you’ll be in there for a maximum of 29, after which the winner will be crowned.” Naturally, when I asked for annual leave, I only took two weeks — and even then, I thought that was overly optimistic.

Kelly then went on to explain some of the more ‘technical’ aspects of the show. Firstly, as we’d be ‘bubbling’ we wouldn’t need masks, but would continue to take daily Covid tests. Secondly, the Angels wouldn’t be there in person until the very end, again due to Covid, but would communicate over video, and contestants could leave of their own accord at any time. Thirdly, the mansion itself was a seventeen bedroom listed building that the agency had somehow acquired for just a million and a half pounds. And that was just the start of it. In truth, I barely listened to the infodump — the thing I cared the most about was the fact that, for all the time I would be there (or at least at first,) I’d be with 8 other girls, each of whom had just as much chance of being the next ‘Angel’ as I did, if not more.

My years of being ‘Dina’ meant that I was confident projecting a feminine image online and, to a lesser extent, in public. However, the prospect of presenting myself to eight other women, all of whom would have as big a social media following as I did (if not much, much bigger) and would be actively competing against me was another thing entirely. To say nothing of the fact that said competition was being broadcast on television (well, streaming, but same difference) for millions to watch.

However, as Kelly would remind me many times before filming, she wouldn’t have chosen me as her ‘Angel wannabe’ if she felt I didn’t have what it takes. And as I also needed reminding, I wouldn’t have entered if I felt I didn’t have what it takes. As I strode through the concourse of Waverley station, the gazes of the onlookers were enough to convince me I indeed at least had something 'exceptional' about me. My short black skirt clung tightly to my body and exposed, if not emphasised, my slender legs, encased as they were in translucent black tights, and perched on top of shoes with a three-inch heel. Underneath my designer jacket, my low-cut top with its thin black and white hoops gave the impression of much more on my chest (and much less on my waist, which just served to emphasise my hips more too,) while my golden-brown hair framed an immaculately made-up face. The dark magenta colour on my long, slender fingernails was simply the icing on the cake — and on full display as I pulled my travel case through the station and onto my train… which brings me to right now, and my anxiety increasing with every mile I travel further south. The 'beep' of my phone to inform me of an incoming message is just the distraction I need right now — especially considering who sent it.

‘Hi Dina!’ The message — from Kelly, obviously — reads, ‘Have you set off yet?’

‘Yep!’ I reply. ‘Just passed Berwick Upon Tweed.’

‘Welcome to sunny England,’ Kelly types with a ‘winking’ emoji that makes me giggle. ‘Bricking it yet?’

‘A little nervous, yep,’ I reply. ‘Will you be at the mansion today?’

‘Not in person, but we will video chat today,’ Kelly answers, increasing my nerves — not that the prospect of meeting the woman who’s become both a mentor and a close friend is any less nerve-wracking. After all, she’s never seen me in the flesh either — it may well be that the 'real me' is a pale shadow of the 'screen me.' ‘Once you arrive the production crew will look after you, show you your room and brief you on what the first few days will entail. Did you bring everything you need?’

‘Toiletries, make-up, half my wardrobe, yep,’ I reply with a ‘winking’ emoji of my own.

‘Can’t wait to see the looks you come up with in the mansion,’ Kelly replies. ‘I love your Instagram vids and have even tried out a few looks myself! And I’m sure millions of girls worldwide will too if, or rather, when you win SYWTBAA.’ I allow myself a small giggle behind my facemask at my mentor’s confidence — she’s certainly more confident than I am.

‘I just want to get through the first day first, lol,’ I reply, earning a ‘hugging’ emoji from my mentor.

‘You’ll be fine, honestly,’ Kelly types. ‘For starters, and I shouldn’t tell you this, but I get how it might make you anxious to not know — you won’t be the only trans girl there; I think there are two others. Virtually everyone in the house will be the same age as you and have a similar social media presence to you as well. It will very much be a level playing field and you have just as much a chance as anyone of winning, trust me.’

‘Thanks,’ I type, even though I remain unconvinced.

After a long journey and changes at York and Grantham stations, where I attract even more ‘attention’ from the other travellers, I finally arrive at Skegness station, smiling nervously behind my mask as I see a man in the main entrance holding up a sign with the name ‘Williams’ printed on it.

“Hi, I- I’m Dina Williams,” I say to the smartly dressed man, who smiles and gestures for me to follow him.

“It’s only a brief ride from here to the mansion,” the man explains as he opens the boot of his equally smart black car. “I’m afraid I can’t help with your luggage due to Covid rules; will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine, thanks,” I reply, stowing my luggage away before elegantly sliding onto the rear passenger seat of the car, trying not to tremble with nerves as we speed through the countryside to our destination. “So, umm, have you... have you picked up any other contestants today?”

“Just you so far,” the driver replies. “I’m actually a runner for the production company, so I wouldn’t be able to tell you even if I had, heh. Confidentiality and all that.”

“Okay, I get that,” I say with a quiet sigh. “Is there... is there anything you CAN tell me?”

“You’ll find everything out when you get there,” the runner replies. “You’ll have a lengthy chat with the producers and a video chat with your mentor before the introductory night; they’ll explain everything to you when the time is right. Don’t want to give anyone an unfair advantage, like.”

“Okay,” I said, clasping my hands nervously over my lap as I try to take in what I was being told, as well as remembering all of the advice Kelly gave me over the past few weeks. On the plus side, I think to myself, at least everyone I’ve come into contact with since leaving Edinburgh has unquestioningly accepted me as a woman — even those like the driver, who’ve not only seen me up close but also heard my voice. Now I just have to convince the eight other girls in the mansion — not to mention the millions who’ll be watching on streaming….

A short while later, after several picturesque miles of Lincolnshire countryside, we arrive at our destination — Well Vale Hall, an impressive-looking mansion seemingly in the middle of nowhere, with acres of land surrounding it. It’s not as big as my grandfather’s estate, but it’s still enough to widen my eyes. As are the two Mercedes and the Maserati parked among the production vans outside.

Before I can process the scene, though, and before I’ve even taken my luggage out of the car boot, I’m approached by a young woman holding an iPad whose facemask proudly displays the logo of the production company.

“Hi, are you Dina?” the young woman asks, smiling as I nod. “Hi, I’m Cassie; I’m one of the junior producers of the show and I’ve just got a few questions to ask before we can get you settled in your room. You’re Kelly’s contestant, aren’t you?”

“Umm, yeah,” I reply. “Sorry, this is — this is a bit overwhelming, heh.”

“First time on television?” Cassie asks, smiling behind her mask as I nod again. “Well, it’ll be fine; you’ll have plenty of time to settle in and plenty of downtime between active recording sessions, heh. There really is no need to be nervous; I mean, it’s not like you’re meeting the Queen, heh.”

“Yeah,” I chuckle nervously as I remember that when I actually DID meet the Queen, it was with my family’s support and approval — and I most definitely wasn’t dressed the way I am now.

As I step into the mansion and am escorted to my bedroom, thoughts of my family make my nerves increase with every step I take. A large part of me wants to run back to the taxi and get on the first train back to Edinburgh and forget all about being an ‘Angel.’ I always have the option of going back to my unsatisfying but comfortable life, pretending to be ‘William’ when dealing with my family and living a quiet, almost hermit-like lifestyle as ‘Dina’ at all other times. Hell, it’s not even like ‘Dina’ isn’t making any money of ‘her’ own — my social media profiles keep going from strength to strength even without actively being an ‘Angel,’ so there’s no reason to believe it’d be any different if I just turned around and left without a further word.

However, as I kick off my heels and drop my suitcase on what will be my bed for at least the next few days, I’m reminded of how hard I worked for this opportunity. I earned this opportunity. I WANT this opportunity. I want the world to know that I am Dina Williams. A beautiful, determined woman who can inspire young girls — and young boys — to be whoever they want to be, no matter their background. I just wish that I didn’t have to choose between this opportunity and my own ‘background….'

“The lead producer for the show will be along in a bit,” Cassie explains as I half-listen. “They’ll explain what you’ll be doing for the first few days, then you’ll have a quick chat with your Angel — which will be recorded, by the way — then tonight it’s the big premiere dinner where you and the other girls will get to know each other.”

“Thanks,” I whisper, taking a deep breath as I sit down on my new bed and examine my room — decently sized, but sparse and impersonal. Obviously, they expect me to decorate it myself while I’m here, even if the only thing I brought with me were my clothes and make-up… thoughts of which immediately bring me to the last thing Cassie said about tonight’s dinner. When it was still a hypothetical thing, I could, in a way, disregard it, but now that it’s been said out loud it’s suddenly dawned on me that in a few hours’ time, I will be presenting Dina Williams in the flesh to eight other women, all of whom will see me as competition, and some of whom might not even view me as a woman.

The fact that Heavenly Talent have a long history with promoting transgender talent comes as some comfort and at least implies that I’m going to be in a ‘safe space’ for as long as I’m in the mansion, but the fact is that, in all likelihood, out of the nine women in this competition, only one will not have breasts. Only one will not have a ‘normal’ amount of oestrogen in their system. Only one will not either have or be on a path toward surgery to have a vagina. The fact that I desperately want all of these things myself will no doubt be irrelevant to many, including countless of those who will watch the show, and quite possibly, many of those in the show. Kelly’s assurance that I won’t be the only trans woman in the show aside, I’ve left myself with a massive disadvantage before the competition has even begun.

However, as my father often told me and my siblings while growing up, just because I’m at a disadvantage, it doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t at least try. ‘William’s’ upbringing meant that everything ‘he’ wanted would be handed to him. ‘Dina’, meanwhile, earned everything ‘she’ wanted through hard work — this opportunity included, as I've reminded myself several times today alone. I’d be letting myself down if I didn’t seize this opportunity with both hands. I’d be letting Kelly down if I didn’t give it my all. And, in an odd way, I’d be letting Dina Black down as well — the one person I don’t know whether or not I want them to watch the show at all….

Once I’m unpacked, Cassie leaves me alone in my room, though not before confiscating my phone, so as in order to cut off any means of me contacting the outside world during my stay in the mansion. Thankfully, the producer stops by a few minutes later to give me yet another infodump about what to expect over the coming few days, before I’m left alone yet again — though again, I’m not alone for long before the TV in my room alerts me that I somehow have an incoming call. I press the button on the remote to accept the call and breathe a sigh of relief as the face of my ‘mentor’ appears on-screen.

“Hey Dina!” Kelly says, almost squeaking with excitement. “Nerves kicking in yet?”

“Nerves kicked in about 2 weeks ago!” I reply, earning a giggle from the dark-haired woman. “But aye, it’s seeming a lot more ‘real’ now, heh.”

“Trust me, you won’t be the only one feeling that way,” Kelly tries to reassure me, even if I only have her word to go on. “Hell, even I’m feeling nervous, heh. We’ve never done anything like THIS before; adding tw- adding a new member to the Angels picked from the general public is — yeah. But the point is, in just a short space of time, I’ve really come to see you as a friend, you know?”

“Thanks, I- I think the same about you,” I reply, causing a warm smile to spread across my mentor, or rather, my friend’s face.

“But the thing is, all the other girls will feel the same way about their housemates,” Kelly advises. “So we’re going to need to talk strategy if you’re going to win! Specifically, this opening evening. First impressions count, after all, and not just on the other housemates but on the audience as well. Us Angels will be picking who stays and who goes, sure, but we're not going to keep someone around who everyone on Twitter hates, if that makes sense. So, with that in mind... what are you planning to wear to this dinner?” I grin as I open my wardrobe and show off the options I brought with me to the mansion, which all thankfully meet with the dark-haired woman's approval. Off to a good start, then....

The lengthy discussion with my ‘mentor’ covered numerous topics relating to the coming few days, and left my head spinning by the end of it. We discussed tactics like how to present myself at the dinner, not coming across as too confrontational, avoiding being too passive, which brands of make-up we both like and even some more personal matters like Kelly’s family (it turns out her father used to work for the governor of Hong Kong and is almost as well-connected as my father.) Eventually, though, the call ends and I take a deep breath before getting ready for my ‘debut.’

During the call, Kelly and I obviously discussed many different ‘looks’ for me to wear at the welcoming dinner, but one in particular stood out for me, and for Kelly, too. The dress I chose has a hemline at the middle of my thigh (like most of my dresses and skirts, in fairness) and has long sleeves but leaves my shoulders completely bare. It’s also very form-fitting, meaning I need to wear shapewear underneath, though no breast forms or even a padded bra — I want to remain as ‘natural’ as possible. I don’t want to answer any awkward questions about where ‘they’ go when I change my clothes, and the curves I get from the shapewear more than make up for it. I still wear a gaff though, obviously, along with a pair of light black control-top tights to ‘help’ there. I rounded out my look with a wide choker and a pair of boots made of a matte black fabric that come to three inches above my knee and have a four-inch heel that’s thicker than a traditional stiletto heel but still very delicate and feminine. My make-up is, of course, immaculate — natural foundation, dark but not heavy mascara and eyeliner and nude eyeshadow along with, of course, a thick layer of my favourite nude matte lipstick (I briefly considered going with red, but wanted my look to be as individual to me as possible). My hair is brushed and sprayed to its maximum volume, my nails are repainted a darker colour to match my dress, and I’m surrounded by a cloud of my sweetest-smelling perfume. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, and yet, as I leave my room to head to the ‘preparation area’ the producers have set up, I still feel nervous. I still have the chance to back out — I could still turn around, head back to Edinburgh, and live my quiet life as ‘Dina’ away from the limelight. I can still try to prepare myself to come out to my family privately, rather than shock them with this ‘appearance.’ The producers have backup contestants for exactly this reason, after all.

However, as I approach the ‘preparation area,’ I find myself feeling emboldened by the smiles of the producers. They clearly want to see me compete for this prize. Out of the thousands of girls who entered the competition, Kelly chose me to be her representative, so she obviously wants to see me compete. And most importantly of all, so do I. The Angels have meant so much to me over the last few years. Kelly and Jamie’s stories have had a strong influence on me and helped me to become the woman I want to be — the woman I am right now in this moment. And it works both ways. Even my own small social media presence is making a difference — young girls have messaged me to tell me how much I’ve helped them both with their looks and in their coming out to their families. To be able to do that on a national, if not global level, all while living independently and freely as Dina and earning vast amounts of money? I’d have to be a fool to turn my back on such an opportunity.

“Ready?” The producer asks me as I remove my facemask (having earlier today tested negative for Covid, like the other girls in the mansion).

“Ready,” I reply, standing in front of the door and adjusting the hem of my dress one last time as a loud countdown plays. When the countdown reaches ‘zero,’ the doors open in front of me, revealing what appears to be a large conference room… and six VERY attractive young women the same age as me.

“Hi!” I squeak, waving nervously as I step into the room and the other women greet me with excited squeals and tight hugs. It takes several minutes for the excitement levels to die down enough for anyone to be understood clearly, but that’s still long enough for me to take away my first impressions of my 'opponents.'

All six of the women present (the other two presumably arriving shortly) are clearly model-esque — tall, slender and very well-dressed in a mixture of dresses similar to mine, longer, more formal knee-length dresses or outfits with short skirts and skimpy tops. They’re all exuding an air of confidence, and while they all appear to be pleased to see me, they’re all clearly sizing me up the same way I am them.

“Come on, come on, sit with us!” The (probably self-appointed) ‘leader’ of the group — a woman the same height as me, with light brown hair and wearing a slinky strapless red dress — says, grabbing my hand and leading me to a large horseshoe sofa in the middle of the room. “So come on, all of us have introduced ourselves to each other already. I’m Aura, I’m 25 and I’m from London!” I smile as Aura sits back with a smug grin on her face — I do in fact already know who she is as she’s in many of the influencer circles I follow. She also has about six times as many followers as I do….

“I- I’ll go next, I guess,” says the woman sat next to Aura, a very attractive and tall young woman with long black hair, wearing a sequined halter neck top and a tight silver-coloured miniskirt. “My name’s Hayley, I’m 23 and I’m originally from Manchester.” I smile as I briefly lock eyes with Hayley before she averts her gaze away from me — though this is enough to reveal the telltale bump on the front of her neck. The same 'bump' I'm disguising with my choker....

“Me next, then!” Announces the next girl, a woman with light brown skin and thick, frizzy black hair, who’s wearing a strapless black minidress with a flared skirt. “My name’s Martha Steadman, I’m also 23 and I’m from Redhill!” I exchange a giggle with Martha as she playfully poses — she seems genuinely friendly.

“I’ll go next,” the next girl says in a thick Geordie accent as she brushes her thick brown hair out of her face and straightens the top of her strapless black and white dress. “My name’s Lilian, but yas can call me Lil, I’m 22 and I’m from the best city in the world, Newcastle-Upon-Tyne!” I smirk as Lil’s ‘announcement’ earns her playful jeers from the other girls, even if they don’t seem to dent her confidence one bit.

“Okay, me next, then,” says the next girl, a very tall — towering over me in heels even when she’s only wearing flats herself — blonde woman wearing glasses, a clingy sleeveless black dress and opaque black tights. “I’m Lydia Dixon, I’m only 20 and I’m originally from London too.”

“That just leaves me, then,” the final girl says in a voice that instantly puts my back up. Like the others, she’s young, tall and beautiful with long, straight dark hair and is wearing a knee-length dress with dark mesh sleeves and decolletage. However, her accent appears to be a poor impersonation of the Queen, while she’s immediately looking down her nose at everyone. I long since lost count of the sheer number of people, both men and women, like her I had to deal with when growing up, and it’s just my luck that I can’t escape the same snobbery here, of all places…. “My name is Michelle Reynolds; I’m 21 and have just graduated from the University of Oxford with a first-class honours degree in Latin.” Which is important how? I think to myself as I force a smile on my face nonetheless. Less than five minutes in, and I’m already playing the game…

“Okay, guess I’m up, then!” I say with a nervous giggle. “I’m Dina, Dina...” Black? Constable? I’ve only answered to my new name for a few months, I’m going to need to be VERY careful not to slip up, especially as this will no doubt be on live TV — “...Williams, I’m 22 and I was born in and currently live in Edinburgh!”

“Aww, I love Edinburgh!” Lil gushes immediately as I finish talking. “Have ya ever been ta the Castle? Went there for a school trip when we were twelve, and it was really fancy in there!”

“Y- yeah, I’ve been a couple of times, heh!” I reply. Wearing something considerably fancier than just a school uniform, I think to myself as I remember all the formal occasions I had to attend there. “It really is beautiful, and so is the whole city, heh.”

“I’m sure you’ll do the city — and the whole of Scotland, of course — proud while you’re in here,” Aura says with a friendly smile as I giggle nervously. Of course, her friendliness could just be an act, a tactic….

I only get a few more minutes to get to know the other girls better, not learning much before the countdown starts again. The other girls instinctively head toward the door to form the ‘welcoming party’ that I got, only with me joining them this time. After the countdown ends, the door opens to reveal yet another pretty young woman, this time a shorter woman (maybe 5’ 4” without heels) with golden blonde hair, dazzling blue eyes and a wide grin on her face. As before, Aura takes the lead with introductions.

“Hello!” Aura gushes, giving the newcomer a tight hug before we all take our turns squeaking our excited introductions. As before, we lead the newcomer toward the 'horseshoe,' where we all introduce ourselves, with me going last even though I am (for some reason) sat next to the newcomer.

“Okay, hey there, y’all,” the newcomer says in a very obvious southern United States accent — something that immediately gets the attention of the rest of the girls.

“Ooh, and I thought it was my accent that was gonna get tongues wagging!” Lil says with a giggle. “I have GOT ta hear more of this story!” Completely sidelining mine, then, I think to myself as I sense my chances of winning getting even smaller, less than half an hour after the start of the competition.

“Ain’t got much to tell, really,” the newcomer continues, her accent continuing to excite everyone. “My name’s Ginny Ward, I’ve jus’ turned 24 an’ ’m from a small town jus’ outside San Antonio, Texas, but for the last couple of years I been livin’ in Oldham, England.”

“Not far from me, then?” Hayley asks, sharing a giggle with our new housemate. “Why did you swap sunny San Antonio for rainy old Oldham?”

“Ah, it- ain’t easy to talk ‘bout,” Ginny says, mumbling bashfully and immediately lowering the mood in the room.

“Well — okay, if it’s personal, and you don’t want to, then that’s okay,” I say with a sympathetic smile. God knows there are a few things I’m not comfortable saying in this setting. “Right, girls?”

“R- right,” Aura says with a nod, clearly irked at me taking ‘leadership’ in this circumstance. “But you said San Antonio, right? Isn’t that where the Alamo is? No offence, Dina, but you have to admit that’s a lot more exciting than Edinburgh Castle!” Touché, I think to myself.

“Heh,” I chuckle as we look toward Ginny.

“Yeah, I- I done been to the Alamo,” Ginny replies. “It ain’t quite as big as y’all might think.”

“And here I was thinking that everything was big in Texas!” Lil teases, giggling as the American girl blushes. “I’ve always wanted ta go there, heh.”

“It… it’s got both good and bad to it,” Ginny says with a giggle. “I just ended up fixin’ to leave and live some other place. I tried Californy, but work and housin’ weren’t there, then a UK friend said they’d let me bunk with them for a bit, so I done come here.”

“America’s loss is our gain,” Martha says, giving the blonde woman a gentle hug. “How long have you been in England, then?”

“Since ‘fore Covid,” Ginny replied. “They let me go, an’ I was watchin’ the Angels ‘til – well, ‘m here!”

“Here you are!” Aura giggles. “And here WE are. Well, all of us minus one, anyway!” As if on cue, the countdown starts again, and the eight of us excitedly head toward the door to greet our final new arrival. As the countdown ends, the door opens to reveal a dark-skinned woman wearing an almost scandalously short black dress and skyscraper heels, who lets out a loud, excited shriek as she sees us all. And, once again, Aura takes the lead with our greetings.

As with Ginny and myself, the usual round of introductions is made, in which we learn that our final housemate is a 25-year-old woman from Birmingham named Marcie. Almost immediately as we finish introducing ourselves, the Tannoy public address system, which had been used for the countdowns, springs to life once again.

“Attention, candidate Angels!” the Tannoy — clearly voiced by Charlotte Hartley, the unofficial ‘leader’ of the Angels — booms throughout the room. “You have now all met, and you are getting to know each other. Before dinner, we have your first mini challenge!”

“Your challenge,” the voice of Hannah Dexter announces, “is to speak to each other and try to guess which candidate has which Angel mentor!”

“We cannot help you with this challenge,” Jamie-Lee Burke says, taking over the Tannoy. “And you may not deliberately lie to or try to deceive each other.”

“You have thirty minutes,” Charlotte announces. “At the end of which, you’ll be called back to your room to give your answer. Whoever guesses the most correctly will get a bonus to help with tomorrow’s first proper challenge!”

“Good luck!” the Angels all yell over the Tannoy, and immediately as they do, the big TV screen in the room — which was blank until now— lights up to show the names and faces of all nine of us, along with a thirty-minute countdown timer.

Naturally, this causes a commotion in the room as everyone starts planning their next move. I, however, can’t help but be drawn to my own photograph in the bottom-left corner of the screen. While I’ve obviously seen my own — or rather ‘Dina Williams’s — face before, it was always in the context of when I was applying my make-up or editing an Instagram or TikTok post — and, in those contexts, my face was always ‘alone.’ On this screen, here and now, I’m grouped in with eight other women, and what strikes me the most is that I’m not ‘out of place.’ On the screen is, without question, the photographs of nine women. Unless you knew what you were looking for, it would be impossible to tell otherwise. And, for the first time ever, when I look at my face, I’m not seeing a ‘Dina Black wannabe’ — I’m seeing, unambiguously, Dina Williams. Certainly not ‘William Constable….’

“Hey Dina!” Martha says, snapping me out of my ‘trance.’ “Still studying everyone’s faces?”

“Ah- yeah, heh,” I reply with a chuckle. “Kinda hard being, like, only the third last to arrive; I don’t get as much chance to familiarise myself, if that makes sense.”

“I get it,” Martha says. “I was the third TO arrive, so I suppose I kinda had a bit of an advantage, heh. Where did you do your audition; did you say it was Edinburgh?”

“Yeah, just down the road from where I live,” I reply. “I was nervous as hell, going — going to the audition, heh.” Also ‘going out of my flat dressed as ‘Dina’ for the first time,’ I think to myself — but that’s something Martha doesn’t need to know right now.

“I was shaking like a leaf all through mine,” Martha confesses. “Heh, I was getting nervous that I’d be the only non-white person here until Marcie arrived. I was a little upset when Malaika left the Angels, but I get that she was homesick, heh. Though before you ask, yes, I was born in England, heh.”

“…It’s the ‘England’ bit that’s most foreign to me, heh,” I retort, earning a giggle from my new friend.

“Okay, touché,” Martha says. “Still though, it means that now, there are only two Angels from an ethnic minority background, and there’s only two girls in here who are from an ethnic minority background….” Ooh, sneaky, I think to myself with a smirk.

“I thought we weren’t allowed to mislead each other?” I ask.

“Who said I was misleading anyone?” Martha retorts. “I was just thinking out loud. Unless you happen to know who Kelly and Abbey-Gayle’s candidates are?”

“That’s for me to maybe know and you to maybe find out,” I say, giggling as my knowing smirk earns an eye roll and a loud giggle from my fellow candidate.

“I guess it’s not like there are any Scottish Angels,” Martha chuckles. “THAT would’ve been a bit of a giveaway.”

“No Scottish Angels… yet,” I say with a confident smirk that gets another giggle as Martha heads away to mingle, while I try to find Hayley — the person I want to talk to the most — only to see that she’s already engrossed in a conversation with Marcie. Before I can take two steps, though, I hear a voice calling me from behind.

“Hey there, Dina!” the unmistakable southern drawl of Ginny says.

“Hey Ginny!” I reply as we walk together toward a couple of comfortable chairs around the side of the room. “I was just talking to Martha about how...“

“They only got two Angels who ain’t white,” Ginny interrupts as we share a smile. “And there ain’t but two who are….” I bite my lip as Ginny trails off — it’s pretty obvious that the ‘only two’ she’s referring to here are Jamie and Kelly. Has she already clocked me THAT easily? Then again, I’ve already ‘clocked’ Hayley — or at least, I think I have. “Oh- oh, no wait, sorry, not two, three who ain’t born in England.”

“Ah- yeah, that’s true, heh!” I chuckle. “Who did you forget about, Mary, Kelly or Abbey-Gayle?”

“I- s‘not important,” Ginny chuckles. “Guess I’m just, like, nervous, ya know!”

“You and me both, heh!” I chuckle.

“But I- I just has to say…” Ginny says, biting her lip nervously. “I- I love your boots! I’ve wanted a pair like that for simply AGES. Y’know, ever since movin’ to ‘rainy old Oldham!’ ”

“Thanks!” I chuckle, stretching out one leg to let the American girl get a better view of my boot. “They’re nothing designer, really, just a pair I got online for £30. The one downside is they’re not very comfortable to wear bare-footed, but that’s not a problem when black tights season in Scotland is about eleven and a half months long, heh.”

“Truth, I learned that!” Ginny chuckles. “My clothes in... yeah.” I bite my lip as Ginny pauses and wistfully stares into the distance for a moment. “I’d just say my- my San Antonio outfits and my Oldham get up are VERY different, ya know? ‘Bout the only boots I ever wore back in Texas was cowboy boots….” Okay… I think to myself, before suddenly a lightbulb comes on in my head. Is Ginny ‘clocking’ me… or is she subtly trying to come out? How should I even try to approach this?

“Ginny, did you — do you ever watch, you know, the American Angels shows?” I ask. “I think they’ve got groups in Los Angeles and New York, don’t they?”

“Ain’tcha heard? New York got ended last year ‘cause of Covid,” Ginny replies. “LA is still goin’, mostly since they added that Jenna Da Silva girl for keeps, but- whew! I live in a place pretty near ruled by our preacher, an’ anything from California — or even Britain — is thought to come from Satan hisself.”

“Yikes,” I say with a grimace, which earns a sad smile from my new friend.

“So, I- I had to go,” Ginny sighs. “I miss Texas, but I- I got to live life on my terms. That simply weren’t, like, possible where I used to live.” Okay, that DEFINITELY confirms it, I think to myself as I feel my defences start to lower.

“I can definitely sympathise with you there,” I say with a sigh, earning a sympathetic smile.

“Ain’t Scotland more liberal than elsewhere round here?” Ginny asks.

“Depends on which Scot you ask, I suppose,” I say with a shrug. “My parents don’t even know I’m in here, heh.”

“Same here,” Ginny chuckles. “I ain’t never — ain’t never felt, like, more ‘far from home,’ yet this feels more like home, if that’s makin’ sense?” I smile as I look around at the other women in the room, glancing again at the big screen and how effortlessly my face fits in with the others — eight total strangers, and yet already somehow a community, of which I’m an equal part for the first time in my life.

“Perfect sense,” I reply, sharing a smile with my new friend as she moves off to mingle with the rest of the crowd. Before I can stand up, though, another member of this new ‘community’ swiftly occupies the empty chair.

“Hey Dina!” Lil practically announces as she fills Ginny’s vacant seat. “Sorry that ya kinda gone from talking with the Belle of the South ta the Angel of the North, heh!”

“I’m sorry, YOU’RE the most northern Angel candidate here?” I retort, thankfully earning a giggle from my rival.

“Okay, touché,” Lil giggles. “But we’d both be the most northern Angel if either of us won, wouldn’t we? Alice being from Stockton-On-Tees, like, just down tha road from me, I mean.”

“True,” I say, before sensing an opportunity as the girl I most want to talk to heads our way — probably not to talk, but perhaps I can change that…. “Hey, Hayley!”

“Come and join the ‘northern powerhouse!’ ” Lil jokes, misreading my motivation for talking to the tall Mancunian woman.

“O- okay, sure!” Hayley giggles as she pulls up a chair and elegantly lowers herself into it. “And I LOVE those boots, Dina!”

“Thanks!” I say, stretching out my leg again for Lil and Hayley to see. “They’re not really any special make, but they go SO well with this dress I just had to!”

“I’ll say!” Lil says, interrupting Hayley before she can speak. “We were just talking about how the Angels need more northern representation — even if to us, ya are kinda ‘southern,’ hehe!”

“Ugh, well, I’ve been called worse, that’s for sure,” Hayley retorts. I bet you have… I think to myself as I try not to stare at her Adam’s Apple, while simultaneously hoping that mine isn’t showing too badly through my choker and wishing that I’d worn a slightly higher-cut dress.

“Well, that’s jealousy for you,” Lil says dismissively. “All I know is that everyone who took the piss out of me at school is now sat at home scratching their arses, while I’m in here getting ready ta be Britain’s next Angel!”

“While all three of us are,” I say, earning another conciliatory nod and giggle from the Geordie woman while I study her for any sign of any ‘tells’ — surely she can’t be trans as well?

“And I suppose — I suppose this is a fun challenge to start us off,” Hayley muses. “Like, we’re kinda competing, but the actual goal is to get to know each other, you know? It’s better than, say…” Asking which among us is trans? I think to myself. “…Trying to figure out, you know, if there are any trans women in here, like in the ‘proper’ Angels.” Okay, now either that's spooky or I've succeeded in reading Hayley 100% correctly.

“Because it wouldn’t matter,” Lil says with a shrug. “Wouldn’t matter to me if none of you all were trans or all eight of you were.” I can probably safely put you in the ‘cis’ column, then, I think to myself as Lil continues. “Anyone coming into this competition ta — what, try ta spread bigotry? Try ta get Jamie and Kelly kicked out? They’re probably not going ta get very far. Trans women ARE women. End of story.”

“Hear hear!” I cheer, sharing a giggle with both of my new friends.

“And obviously,” Lil continues, “any trans women in this competition should NOT feel pressured ta come out, even if asked.”

“Thanks,” Hayley whispers, smiling as Lil stands up and continues to mingle, though the nervous, almost panicked breath that Hayley lets out betrays her anxiety.

“Hayley?” I ask, concerned for my new friend. “Are — are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just — heh,” the dark-haired woman replies, “I was so excited in the run-up to this, but now I’m here, well….”

“…It’s a bit of an anticlimax?” I ask.

“No, the opposite!” Hayley chuckles. “I’ve never so much as SEEN a house or an estate like this! It — it’s a bit overwhelming, you know? I mean, I grew up in a 2-bedroom council house in Didsbury, had to share a room with my brother until I was 15, then for the last few years I’ve lived in a tiny one-bedroom flat, and now I’m going to be on TV… It’s a lot, you know?”

“I think the lives of everyone in this room are about to change whether we become ‘Angels’ or not,” I muse aloud, thinking but not saying ‘some more than others.’ It suddenly dawns on me, it’s entirely possible that my conversations with my new housemates so far are being recorded and are being readied for broadcast, meaning there’s no turning back now — ‘Dina Williams’ is now public property. I find myself wondering how my parents would react to their youngest son becoming their oldest daughter — assuming, of course, that they’ll even watch the show. Certainly, there’s very little of ‘William’ in the face of ‘Dina’ on the big screen. I might even go through this whole competition with them being none the wiser. I doubt that Dina Black will miss it, though….

I spend the next twenty minutes talking to the other candidates, mingling around the room and getting to know everyone, even though most conversations are just a repeat of mine and Aura’s. At the end of our ‘time’, the nine of us head back to our rooms, where we submit our guesses, before returning to the main conference room, where a large dinner table was set up during our short absence. I quickly find my seat — which, as luck would have it, is directly between Lydia and Ginny. Once everyone is seated, the screen illuminates with the faces of three ‘Angels’ — Charlotte, Hannah and, most significantly from my perspective, Kelly.

“Good evening, Angel candidates!” Charlotte announces, earning genuine whoops and cheers from us. “By now, you’ll have had a chance to get to know each other a little better, and your first dinner together will be served shortly.”

“But first, we have some results to give out!” Hannah says with an excited giggle. “As you know, we tasked the nine of you with guessing which candidate paired up with which Angel — none of you having seen the auditions, of course, because they were only put up for streaming today.” And THAT’s news, I think to myself, my heart beating faster as I realise that ‘Dina Williams’ is now most definitely public property.

“And the winner of the task,” Kelly says as my anticipation levels rise — is Kelly announcing because I won? “With six out of eight correct guesses, is… Lydia!” I smile politely as the tall, bespectacled girl gasps before giggling excitedly.

“That’s MY girl,” Hannah says proudly as she winks at Lydia, who is obviously ‘her’ candidate and not Viks’s, as I’d originally guessed. “We will reveal your ‘prize’ tomorrow when we announce the first task.”

“But in the meantime, I have a consolation prize for MY girl,” Kelly announces, startling me and attracting my attention (not to mention giving away to everyone the fact that I'm her candidate.) “Aka ‘the only girl whose Angel no one guessed correctly.’ In your own time, Miss Williams!” Blushing, I rise from my seat and do a dainty curtsey as my fellow candidates cheer and playfully heckle me. “We’ve decided that you’ll get a smaller prize for being so enigmatic, hehe! But, like with Lydia, all will be revealed tomorrow!”

“In the meantime, bon appétit!” Charlotte says, before the screen switches off and several formally-dressed waiters bring us our meals — an experience I’m obviously familiar with following years of dinner parties at my grandfather’s estate, but which is clearly a novelty for girls like Hayley and Lil. As I tuck into my hot tomato and basil soup, though, the American girl at my side begins talking to me.

“So… Kelly, then?” Ginny asks, smiling as I blush almost the same colour as my starter.

“So… Abbey-Gayle?” I ask, earning a giggle from the Texan woman.

“Alice, actually,” Ginny replies. “Though I’m kinda surprised someone guessed that right, heh.”

“That’d be me,” Lil says between mouthfuls of pate. “I figured everyone else would guess me for Alice ‘cause of the north-east connection, heh. Kinda like how I guessed Viks for Dina ‘cause you’re both, like, kinda posh.” I try not to comment as I see Michelle shoot a brief glare at Lil — just as I had guessed, she’s actually Viks’ candidate.

“The Di-nigma, heh,” Lydia teases me as I try not to blush. “And for what it’s worth, I had you and Ginny the wrong way round; that’s the only ‘mistake’ I made, heh.”

“You... you picked me for Kelly, then?” Ginny asks, clearly upset at the implication — even though I can't help but feel the same way.

“Y- yeah…” Lydia says. “Because you’re both, umm, born abroad…” I try not to pause as an awkward silence falls over the table, though thankfully, the silence doesn't last long.

“…I’m guessing everyone picked me and Abbey-Gayle together, then?” Marcie asks, smiling as everyone — myself included — can’t return her gaze. “It’s okay, I get it. Part of why I’ve always loved the Angels is the way they try to include EVERYONE. Doesn’t matter if you’re black, or gay…”

“Or- or trans?” Hayley interrupts, triggering another awkward silence. “It’s okay, I don’t mind everyone knowing; I mean, I don’t hide the fact that I’m trans on my TikTok, and I don’t mind everyone knowing that I’m Jamie’s candidate, so — yeah. And I’m okay with you asking any question you want, other than ‘what’s in your pants?’ ”

“I never understood why people were obsessed with ‘that,’ anyway,” Lil muses. “You’d never ask a cis person what’s in their pants, so why is it acceptable ta ask a trans person?”

“Exactly,” Hayley says. “Being trans isn’t all about sex, sex, sex. It’s about not having to hide who I am anymore.”

“Exactly,” I say, before biting my lip and grimacing as I realise that if my being Kelly's candidate hadn't already outed me, my speaking up just now definitely did. “And — yeah. No coincidence that I’m Kelly’s candidate. And I’m happy to answer any questions that aren’t related to my pants either, heh.”

“Well — the two of you definitely prove wrong all the people who say ‘we can always tell,’ ” Martha says, earning smiles from both me and Hayley.

“The three of us, maybe?” Ginny asks, sighing as she blushes. “Ain’t no point hidin’ it now, since I know we’re all friends, ya know? And ain’t no prizes for guessin’ just why I left small-town Texas, right?”

“Well, you’re among friends here,” Martha says to the agreement of the table.

“A toast,” Aura says as she raises her wine glass. “To the nine of us — nine smart, sexy women who would ALL make perfect Angels!”

“To us!” I cheer along with the rest of the women as, for the first time ever, I’m feeling like I — not ‘William Constable’, but Dina Williams — actually belong somewhere.

We spent the next two hours just chatting informally (now that there’s no active competition to win), getting to know everyone and learning a bit about their history. Obviously, Ginny’s tales of Texas stole the show, but we also learned about Hayley’s history and how she started transitioning age 21. We also learned a LOT about Lil’s life growing up in one of the more deprived areas of Newcastle; we learned about the discrimination that Martha and Marcie faced when growing up, and the others learned a bit about my past too — even if I’ve kept the details of my family close to my chest for now.

Thankfully, when it came to my own transition, the others went out of their way to make me feel comfortable and accepted, and were willing to overlook my not being on hormones yet and accepted me for who I am. However, I couldn't help but wonder how much of that was genuine acceptance as opposed to not wanting to risk offending Jamie and Kelly.

Eventually, evening turns to nighttime, and after being advised that we should get an early night by the producers (inferring that we have an early morning tomorrow), we all head back to our rooms — where I’m surprised to learn that my room is right next door to Ginny's.

“Oh- hey there, Dina!” Ginny says with a grin, sliding closer to me as I unlock my door.

“Hey Ginny!” I reply with a smile. “I suppose we’re neighbours, then?”

“Lookin’ like that!” Ginny replies. “I- I was hopin’ to apologise, like, if you thought I meant anything...“

“It — honestly, it’s okay,” I interrupt. “Besides which, what you ‘meant’ was true anyway, heh.”

“Yeah, but it’s kinda bad ‘tis a thing, a’tall,” Ginny says with a sigh. “I knew this place’d be, you know, ‘safe,’ but I was real, real scared of coming out at dinner.”

“Yeah, me too,” I sigh. “But the important thing is that we’re accepted, right?”

“Oh — you betcha,” Ginny replies. “Huh, they ‘cepted me faster’n I accepted myself.”

“I know THAT feeling all too well,” I say with another, heavier sigh. “My — my family doesn’t even know about ‘Dina.’ I don’t even dare come out to them, I mean, ‘face to face.’ I had — well, I mean, I HAVE a brother who came out as gay, and he — yeah. No one in my family’s had any contact with him since my father kicked him out and disinherited him. And I know I’ll be next the next time I see them even if they don’t watch the show, which I know they won’t, but still….”

“Is your family believers?” Ginny asks.

“They go to church every Sunday,” I reply with a shrug. “Or did before Covid, anyway. We were all confirmed Church of Scotland — which is Anglican — but that’s about it.”

“Accordin’ to my folks, you’d be ‘atheist commies,’ ” Ginny snorts. “Our pastor done ruled our town, and iff’n you don’t follow his rules an’ ‘terpretation of the Bible, you could just as well be — aah, I dunno. Grew up m’ whole life bein’ told prayer would fix everythin,’ and I prayed real hard every night that God would stop me feelin’ like this and make me ‘normal,’ but he never did. Durin’ the 2016 election my pastor started haranguing folks to vote for Trump— my folks don’t need no convincin’ of that, by the way, yet he was driving a Continental and livin’ in a big old mansion, so I started thinkin’ he just may be totally full of horseshit.”

“My family’s the same, only they’re...” I say, before biting my lip. I don’t know for certain that there are cameras nearby, but do I want to confess to being nobility THIS early in the competition? “…really big fans of the royal family. As in, obsessively.”

“Ya’ll’d be shocked how many Americans are, too,” Ginny said. “Even Texans! Kinda ironic, iff’n you think ‘bout it. Yet, since I been here, I’ve met lots of Brits who think Trump is just super.”

“Trust me, you won’t find many north of the border,” I say with a smile that my new friend mirrors. “Even within a family as conservative as mine, heh.”

“Fixin’ to make Edinburgh my next road trip, then!” Ginny giggles. “I’m plannin’ to do lots of ‘Texas T-girl visitin’ parts of the UK’ posts for TikTok and Instagram once we ain’t locked down no more, I got along to Manchester an’ Liverpool February last year, ‘til that was that for the series, ya know.”

“I’ll definitely have to check them out when I can,” I reply with a smile. “And if you do make it up to Edinburgh and you need a tour guide, I’d be only too happy to help.”

“I’m thinkin’ I kin be happy sharin’ camera time with another hot gal,” Ginny replies, before giggling and heading to her room. “Y’all sleep well, Dina!”

“G’night, Ginny!” I reply with a giggle, before heading into my room and sighing as I remove my jewellery and ease my feet out of my (sexy, but really uncomfortable) boots. I only have a few minutes to relax and gather my thoughts, though, before my TV pings to notify me of an incoming call from my ‘mentor’ — which I, of course, immediately accept.

“Hey Dina!” Kelly says in an almost teasing voice. “You were REALLY great today! It’s good to see that you’re starting to make friends too, as believe me, that’s going to be a major factor when eliminations start and the other Angels decide who should stay and who should go.”

“Thanks,” I chuckle bashfully. “Can you give me any clues about what to expect tomorrow?”

“Not until they announce the actual task, I’m afraid,” Kelly replies with a sad smile. “All I can say is that for every task, ‘look is everything’ is a good rule to live by. But you’ve made a great start, so keep up the good work!”

“Thanks,” I say again.

“You’ll definitely need some sleep, though,” Kelly says. “So get an early night, get your head down — I know how tricky it can be to sleep in an unfamiliar bed, but if you become one of the Angels, you can expect to travel a lot, so it’s best to get used to it now rather than later. Well, travelling when Covid restrictions are lifted, anyway.”

“I guessed,” I retort, earning a giggle from the dark-haired woman.

“We’ll talk again tomorrow,” Kelly says with a smile. “Get some sleep and remember — you’re doing great!”

“Thanks,” I whisper, waving as the video call ends.

I waste no time in following Kelly’s advice and take off and carefully fold my dress for the provided laundry service before removing my make-up, showering and changing into the soft camisole and shorts that are my preferred pyjamas. Despite Kelly’s caution, though, and despite the fact that I’m hundreds of miles from home with recorded footage streaming soon that will likely burn all the bridges with my family, I ended up getting one of the best night’s sleep of my life.

Maybe it’s because for the first time ever, I know that tomorrow, from the time I get up to the time I go to bed, everyone will accept me and treat me as ‘Dina’ and only ‘Dina.’ No one here even knows the name ‘William Constable’ and, even if they did, they wouldn’t care. Back home — even with lockdown rules in place — there was always an anxiety that my family would find out at any time. But here, now, it genuinely feels like I left that anxiety back in Edinburgh — along with the last lingering traces of ‘William.’