“Okay Dina, ya’s up!” Lil says, making me giggle as I approach the table, straightening my casual tank top and short denim skirt before brushing my long hair out of my face. With a determined look, I pick up the ball and the paddle with my immaculately manicured fingers and make my serve, giggling at the noise the hollow plastic sphere makes as it bounces back and forth between myself and Martha.

It’s been two days since Ginny became the first candidate to leave the ‘Angel Mansion’ and, in that time, I’ve made a real effort to get to know the rest of the candidates better.

With Ginny gone, Martha has quickly become my new pseudo ‘best friend’ — we usually eat meals together, we’ve exchanged nail polishes, and I’ve got to learn a lot about her childhood growing up in Redhill and the discrimination she faced for being mixed race. The person I’m probably next closest to is Hayley, who took a while to come out of her shell but is becoming increasingly outgoing and has given me a lot of advice regarding my transition, especially when it comes to HRT.

Lil, Aura and Michelle seem to be stuck in a three-way struggle for ‘alpha girl,’ with Lil currently ‘winning’ because of the sheer force of her personality, while Lydia and Marcie seem to be biding their time, the latter especially following her — well, I suppose our — elimination scare. Technically, I suppose the same could be said of me and, to a lesser extent, Hayley and Martha too — rather than try to be ‘assertive’ like Lil, Aura or Michelle, I’m remaining ‘under the radar’ by focussing on making friends rather than trying to be 'dominant.' Even if in my case, ‘making friends’ means ‘losing embarrassingly at table tennis.’

“Seven-nil!” Martha triumphantly teases as the ball once again whizzes past my left shoulder.

“Maybe I should get a frying pan from the kitchen and play with that,” I sigh as I retrieve the ball and get ready to serve again. “If the next challenge is anything to do with sport, I am in BIG trouble.”

“Weren’t you very sporty at school?” Martha asks, before grimacing as she remembers why I probably wasn’t ‘sporty’ in my school days. “Eesh… sorry, Dina, I keep forgett-“

“It’s okay, honestly,” I interrupt. “Even if I sometimes want to forget myself, heh!”

“Bad?” Martha asks with a sympathetic smile.

“It could’ve been worse,” I reply with a shrug. “Then again, I went to boarding school, so it could’ve been better too, heh.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard a few horror stories,” Martha says with a grimace.

“It wasn’t THAT bad,” I muse. “My brother looked after me for the first few years, and my family is — umm, well, ‘known’ at the school.”

“ 'Known' as in famous or infamous?” Martha asks with a sly grin.

“Who says it wasn’t both?” I reply, before sighing and laughing as the ball bounces straight into my chest. “…Maybe now is the time to admit that no sport is ‘my sport,’ heh.”

“You’re not unfit, though,” Lydia says as she takes the paddle from me while I return to my spot next to the bar, my drink still cold from where I left it.

“Thanks, you’ve got a great body, too!” I reply, smirking and feeling slightly relieved that she took my teasing as intended when the tall bespectacled girl giggles.

“I think we can safely say that none of us would even be here if we weren’t all gorgeous,” Marcie says with a giggle that we all share.

“Only one of us can become an Angel, though,” Lydia sighs as she puts up a much better match against Martha than I managed.

“Yeah, that sucks,” Martha sighs. “You can’t really have eighteen Angels in one group, though.”

“I think the highest any country’s got is fifteen, which I think is Brazil or Spain?” Marcie says.

“Well, one thing for certain is that at the end of this process, there’ll be eight extremely hot models and influencers without a ‘clique’ to belong to,” Martha says with a sly grin that the rest of us quickly pick up on.

“You do know we’ll all probably get kicked out for discussing what I think you want us to discuss, right?” I ask, earning giggles from all of my fellow candidates.

“And maybe let’s focus on trying to win before planning to lose, heh,” Lydia advises as Martha giggles.

“Okay, okay,” Martha concedes. “I’m just saying, you know? I’d be proud to be an ‘Angel’ with any of you girls, even if we can’t actually use the name ‘Angel.’ ”

“Right back atcha,” Marcie giggles as she takes the paddle from Martha and prepares to face Lydia over the ping-pong table.

Even as I head back to the main area of our ‘recreation room,’ I can’t help but feel a wave of pride wash over me. Here I am, genetically male, chemically male and not even out to my family, but these gorgeous models are happy to accept me as one of their own. Of course, a part of me wonders if what they’re saying is just lip service but, even over the course of just five days, I’ve learned enough about my new friends to know that most of the offers of friendship I’ve received are genuine, as genuine as was mine to Ginny.

Of course, there are a few whose motivations are less clear, like Aura, Lil and Michelle, but the one piece of advice Kelly gave me — and that I intend to follow to the letter — was simply to ‘be myself.’ Yes, this competition is essentially a game that needs to be played, but I’ve followed the Angels for long enough to know that they value honesty and openness vastly more than people who try to game the system.

Then again, they did eliminate Ginny — one of the most genuine people I know — first….

After an afternoon of relaxation, which I spend watching and learning hair styling tips from Marcie, the eight of us sit down to our evening meal, though none of us have particularly large appetites. The fact that they eliminated Ginny two days ago means that, while we’ve been able to relax for the last couple of days, our second ‘challenge’ is imminent — and, just like the first one, we have no idea what we’ll be facing. Unsurprisingly, this causes a large amount of speculation throughout dinner with theories including a dance challenge (again,) an acting challenge — and even more outlandish ideas. As with the first challenge, we’re advised to get an early night — advice I follow, even though my anxiety about the following day means that my sleep is fitful, at best.

Nonetheless, my TV’s alarm wakes me from my slumber the following morning, and, after a quick shower, I pull on a plain knee-length dress and head down to the breakfast area. Unsurprisingly, given the circumstances, I'm far from the first one awake.

“Morning, Dina!” Martha says with a smile between sips of her coffee.

“Morning!” I reply with a soft grin. “I take it no one’s heard anything yet about today?”

“Literally everyone’s already asked that,” Lil replies with a smirk that I try not to take personally. “And no, not yet. We reckon we’ll probably hear something after breakfast.”

“Got to give the production crew time to put whatever we need into our wardrobes,” Aura says.

“D’ya suppose every task is gonna be, like, a ‘costume task?’ ” Lil muses out loud.

“We were told during the last task that style is important,” I suggest.

“Well — aye, given that last task was a fashion show, it kinda would be!” Lil retorts, her sneer putting my back up — it’s one I used to be on the receiving end of a lot from my family every time I said or did anything 'unbecoming of my upbringing.' For some reason, it stings even more coming from someone as working class as Lil... “Is it really that important when it’s, like, a cocktail mixing challenge?”

“We’re representing the ‘Angels brand,’ even if we are only candidates at this stage,” Martha replies. “Got to keep up appearances.”

“If ya say so,” Lil replies with a shrug, clearly not happy about Martha and I disagreeing with her. “But there’s six more tasks; ya can’t go too hard too soon, ya know?”

“Seven outfits isn’t THAT many,” I retort, only worsening the Geordie woman’s mood.

“Anyway,” Lydia says in an attempt to lessen the tension at the table, “whatever the challenge is, we’re ready for it, right?”

“Of course,” Lil replies, though I can tell that I’ve overstepped a ‘boundary’ with her somehow — and while we are in direct competition, it's the last thing I need when I'm trying to be part of a group that values friendship above all else.

After breakfast, we head back to our bedrooms where, as with four days ago, we await the details of our next challenge. Thankfully, we don’t have to wait long — and I’m even more thankful that I only had a light breakfast this morning.

“Hey Dina!” Kelly says as I answer her call. “Welcome to challenge two, hehe!”

“Thanks!” I squeak excitedly. “The wait for this one has caused a lot of anxiety, as you might imagine!”

“Yeah, we figured it might, but — got to make great TV, I suppose!” Kelly giggles. “The wait is over, though, as I can reveal that the second challenge is… retro fitness.”

“Speaking of ‘making great TV,’ ” I say with a snort of laughter that my ‘mentor’ echoes.

“Yeah, but fitness IS important,” Kelly retorts. “Krystie owns a dance studio franchise, Mary’s husband manages a gym, Alice’s partner is a PE teacher, Charlotte and Viks have both made very successful vlog series about postpartum fitness regimes… fitness is big business, and to be fair, you’re not exactly out of shape yourself.”

“Thanks,” I say with a light blush. “So… any tips for the challenge?”

“Only that this one isn’t a competition in the way you might think,” Kelly replies cryptically. “Well, that and all previous advice I gave you still applies.”

“Got it,” I say with a smile and a nod.

“Good luck, and I’ll check in with you after the challenge!” Kelly says, before we exchange goodbye waves and the call ends. With her advice still ringing in my ears, I open my wardrobe, which has predictably been stocked with a variety of different styles of workout gear.

Kelly’s not-so-subtle implication that style was important is foremost in my mind, but as I’m examining different styles of leggings and sports bras, I remember the first thing she said — that this was a ‘retro’ fitness challenge. As such, ‘style’ means something completely different this time around. I close the main doors of the wardrobe and open the side cupboard, smiling as I see in front of me a veritable lycra rainbow.

With the clock ticking, I know I need to make a quick decision unless I want to end up suffering the same fate as Ginny last week. And, as I know I’ll need to ‘tuck’ tightly — especially if we’re going to be doing strenuous exercise — I eschew the skimpier workout gear in favour of a dark magenta unitard with thin straps and short legs that show off almost all of my smooth, hairless thighs but keeps my ‘bikini area’ fully under wraps. I smile as I feel the soft fabric stretch over my body, especially my padded sports bra that fits comfortably under the unitard, preventing any repeat of the ‘issue’ that nearly saw me eliminated first. This type of feeling — being soft and delicate, but at the same time powerful, stronger than diamond even — is exactly why I’ve admired the Angels for so long, and is why I’ve devoted my life to chasing that feeling. With time running out, I complete my look with light make-up (but some neon eyeshadow to complement my unitard) before tying my hair into a side ponytail, slipping on a pair of brand-new trainers and heading downstairs to where many of the other girls have congregated — though I’m caught by surprise when I discover that not everyone has had the same idea as me.

“Wow,” Michelle says, and clearly not in a flattering way — her own black leggings, tank top, unmade-up face and tightly braided hair a far cry from my own look. Fortunately, the next face I see is reassurance that I'll have at least one ally in this task.

“Helloooooooo Miss Williams!” Martha giggles as she adjusts the strap of her multicoloured thong leotard and her pink lycra shorts.

“Hello Miss Steadman!” I reply with a giggle as Marcie, Hayley and Aura — all of whom have dressed the same way as Michelle — fidget awkwardly. Before we can say anything further, though, we’re interrupted by the arrival of another one of our housemates.

“Are we all ready ta get fit?” Lil announces as she descends the stairs wearing nothing but a pair of trainers and a black and grey leotard that leaves virtually nothing to the imagination. Unsurprisingly, Michelle and Aura remain stoic, but everyone else lets out a polite laugh, myself included — though this doesn’t stop the Geordie woman from giving me a cold glare as she takes her place next to us as we wait for our final fellow candidate.

“Nice look, Lil!” Martha — ever the peacemaker — says as Lil spins round, showing that her leotard is especially tight across her backside. “Hope Lydia gets here soon, she won’t want to ‘do a Ginny…’ ” I bite my lip at Lil’s implied dig at my American friend — though before I can even think of any retort, we’re joined by the final candidate, who further eases my tension with her outfit choice.

“Hey girls!” Lydia says with a giggle as she skips up to us, her neon pink trainers, lycra shorts and black thong leotard telling us she inferred the same hints about the task that myself, Martha and Lil did. Before we can greet the bespectacled girl, though, we’re interrupted by the mansion’s seemingly omnipresent Tannoy.

“Good morning, Angel candidates!” Abbey-Gayle announces in her soft Jamaican accent as her image appears on the screen outside of the mansion’s main room. “I hope yous’ all warmed up and ready for ya retro fitness challenge! Before we start, we’s thought we’d better get publicity photos of ya all now, as there’s a pretty good chance none of yous’ hair and make-up are going to survive the challenge, hehe! Yous’ all be called out one by one; when ya done, come back here and yous’ won’t have to wait long for the challenge itself!” We all smile as the dark-skinned woman’s image disappears from the screen and a member of the production staff appears from a side door, calling us through one by one for our photoshoot.

The wait to be called passes mostly in silence, with everyone either being too anxious to start a conversation or not wanting to talk and have the producers interrupt. I’m called third and, as with the last photoshoot I did, Katie — Heavenly Talent’s in-house photographer — puts me at ease as I pose for the cameras in my skimpy garment, wondering as always whether my family will see the photos, whether Dina Black will see the photos. For the first time, however, I find myself also wondering whether Ginny will see the photos, and what she’ll think of them. In addition, I can’t help but wonder how many people are watching the show on streaming — the production crew have told us that the show is being streamed 5 days behind recording, and as today is day 6, it means that people have already started to watch life within the house and will already inevitably be picking their favourites. I can’t help but wonder whether there are people out there who are backing ‘Dina Williams’ to win. I can’t help but wonder whether Dina Black is backing ‘Dina Williams’ to win….

After everyone has had their turn in front of Katie’s camera, the eight of us head into the main room, where sets of workout equipment such as weights, skipping ropes, steps and items I've never seen before are arranged in two rows of four facing the big screen. Each of us quickly find our equipment (which has our names on it), and, moments later, the big screen lights up with the images of Angels Krystie, Mary and Hannah, all of whom are in their homes — and, gratifyingly, are all wearing 1980s style aerobics leotards with matching hair and make-up styles. I allow myself a coy grin as Krystie steps forward to begin our workout.

One hour later, as Abbey-Gayle predicted, the eight of us finish our ‘workout’ (which was more like a dance routine with added props) covered in sweat, leaving many of our make-up and hairstyles in ruins. Nonetheless, all of us are on a high after having completed our second challenge — and having kept up with the challenge the whole way, I’m feeling especially confident.

“Well, I hope Heavenly Talent got a good deal on their water rates, as I’m about to shower for a week, hehe!” Lil announces while simultaneously unpicking her leotard wedgie.

“Yep, me too!” Lydia giggles, removing her glasses to wipe the sweat from her brow. I laugh along with the rest of my fellow candidates, but before any of us can speak further, the big screen lights up again — only this time, it’s our ‘introductory Angel’ who speaks.

“Whew, I would NOT want to be in that room right now!” Abbey-Gayle teases us all. “Yous all definitely earned ya shower, but before yous all get cleaned up, ya Angels will want a word with ya all first. Then the rest of the day is yours — we will announce candidates for elimination tomorrow.” Understandably, Abbey-Gayle’s mention that one of us will have to leave tomorrow sours the mood a little, but I try to remain upbeat as I return to my bedroom where I kick off my trainers, untie my ponytail and answer the call that’s waiting on my screen.

“Hey Dina!” Kelly giggles. “That’s challenge two done! How do you think that went?”

“Okay,” I reply with a nod. “Other than really needing a shower, heh.”

“Hehe!” Kelly giggles along with me. “I’ll let you get your shower, don’t worry, but I just wanted to say it’s looking good that you’ll be here for challenge three. You kept up during the workout, you followed and understood the instructions well, and you especially followed and understood the instruction about the ‘style!’ ”

“Thanks,” I chuckle as I adjust the strap of my unitard. “This is surprisingly comfortable, especially around, well, ‘places.’ ” I blush as my mentor smiles sympathetically at me.

“After what you said after the first challenge, I was a little worried,” Kelly says softly. “But you honestly do look great, very natural and feminine. And, most importantly, you kept to the theme of the challenge.”

“Thanks,” I say with a bashful smile.

“But honestly, you are doing great,” Kelly says with a proud smile. “You’ve bounced back well after the first challenge; you’ve definitely got the look and the attitude, and as for any ‘physical inadequacies’ — don’t worry about them. Your body, as it is right now, is only temporary. The real girl inside you is really starting to show her face, and I know I like what I see.”

“Thanks,” I say for the third time, before remembering an earlier thought and biting my lip. “Have — have you streamed episode 1 yet? Only – I’m curious about what everyone thinks about it, such as on social-“

“That — that we’re not allowed to tell you,” Kelly replies. “We can say that, generally, the show is getting positive reviews, but beyond that we can’t really influence — if you’ll excuse the pun — you one way or the other, sorry.”

“I suppose it was worth a try,” I say with a shrug that earns a giggle from my mentor.

“What I CAN tell you,” Kelly continues, “is that while nothing’s guaranteed, I think you can safely celebrate tonight.”

“I intend to,” I chuckle. “After I change and shower, anyway.”

“I think you’ve already been told that every outfit we provide that you wear on-screen is yours to keep after you leave, win or lose,” Kelly reminds me. “I mean, I’m not sure how many different occasions there’ll be to wear the ‘unitard of victory,’ but still….”

“I’m sure I’ll think of one,” I say with a wink that makes my mentor giggle again.

“I’ll leave you to your shower,” Kelly says. “Talk again soon!”

“Bye!” I say, waving as my mentor disappears from the screen.

I waste no time in stripping off the ‘unitard of victory’ and placing it in the laundry, before removing what remains of my make-up and stepping under the very welcome warm water of the shower. Once I’m dry, I reapply a light layer of make-up and perfume before choosing a casual outfit of a long, patterned light blue tank top and a ruffled white skirt. After slipping my feet into a pair of sandals (with a cute wedge heel, of course,) I give my hair one final brush before heading downstairs to the bar area, where, much to my surprise, only two of my fellow candidates are waiting for me.

“Hi Dina!” Lydia says from her position behind the bar as I sit down. “Can I get you anything?”

“What’s available?” I reply with a shrug.

“Anything I remember Ginny teaching me to mix, heh,” Lydia replies with a giggle. “Which isn’t much right now, admittedly, but I asked Hannah if she could get someone to send me, like, a recipe book for cocktails, so I’m hoping to study that tonight? I mean, I HOPE I’m safe from elimination….”

“I know what you mean,” Martha says from the barstool next to me. “I mean, you can’t count your chickens until they’ve hatched and all that, but — you know?”

“I get it, yep,” I say as I sip the cola that Lydia pours for me. “I’m definitely feeling more confident than I did after the last task, then again, given how badly I did in the last task….”

“You’ll be fine, honestly,” Martha says with a warm smile that Lydia mirrors. “It just sucks that 48 hours from now, eight will be down to seven, no matter who goes.”

“Amen to that,” I sigh sadly — god knows if Martha goes, I’m REALLY going to be on my own.

The rest of the girls emerge from their rooms a short while later and join us for lunch — though, given the morning’s exertions and anxiety over tomorrow, no one has much of an appetite. We spent the rest of the afternoon before the (again, light) dinner relaxing, with some girls opting to watch a movie on the big screen, a couple heading back to their rooms to rest and speak to their mentors while the rest — myself included — go for a walk around the mansion’s impressive grounds.

Naturally, as I stroll along with Lydia and Hayley, I’m reminded of my grandfather’s grounds back home. When my siblings and I were younger — under 10 in my case — he’d often take us for walks around the various gardens and woods surrounding his mansion, educating us on the various plant and animal life we’d see along the way. Obviously, I hated this. My brothers would often cajole me into joining them on ‘adventures’ in the woods, which inevitably always got us in trouble with our parents when we returned muddy and with bumps and bruises all over us. Of course, our grandfather would excuse this stating, as always, ‘boys will be boys,’ but as time went on, that saying ended up stinging even more than my father’s rebukes. And, of course, the ironic thing is that, while I’m unlikely to get anywhere near as dirty on this walk, I’m letting my father and grandfather down infinitely more than I did during those childhood ‘adventures….’

After dinner, I return to the mansion’s small bar area where, as promised, Lydia sets up shop behind the bar and starts mixing us some very refreshing looking beverages. Naturally, I ensure I am one of her first ‘customers,’ as does my fellow trans woman.

“What’s this one called?” Hayley asks as she takes a sip of her bright purple concoction.

“That is a 'unicorn kisses,' ” Lydia replies, “only made with added blackcurrant juice. It’s one of Ginny’s recipes that I kinda tweaked a bit, heh.”

“Well, it tastes gorgeous,” Hayley says, giggling as she and Lydia simultaneously blush.

“Dina?” Lydia asks with a giggle. “What’ll you have?”

“Something strong and sweet, please,” I reply with a smile.

“Or in other words, none of my exes,” Hayley replies with a slightly ‘wobbly’ giggle.

“That bad, eh?” Lydia asks.

“Back when I still dated guys, the only ones who’d date me were the meatheads and the borderline incels,” Hayley sighs as Lydia and I listen sympathetically. “Even after I started modelling, even after my Instagram took off, people just couldn’t get past the whole — well, ‘thing.’ ”

“Which is dumb, as you — both of you — are just as gorgeous as anyone else in here or on Instagram,” Lydia says, making both myself and my fellow trans woman blush.

“Thanks,” I whisper as I take a sip of my delicious (but very strong) drink.

“The worst part, though,” Hayley says, her demeanour a lot more ‘open’ than I’ve seen from her in the week that I’ve known her, “wasn’t so much the ‘dating’ bit as the ‘bringing home to meet parents’ bit. Keeping in mind they’d only barely got used to the idea of their son being their daughter until, suddenly, ‘she’ is bringing home a boyfriend, and — yeah. I’ll spare you the gory details, but let’s just say there were a few fireworks.”

“Yep, I can imagine,” I sigh.

“Oh — have you had problems with your folks too?” Hayley asks, smirking as I snort with laughter.

“They don’t even know about ‘Dina,’ ” I reply. “That’s a surprise they’ll get when the show goes out, heh. And that I’ve got waiting for me when I get out of here, too.”

“Are your family a bit conservative, then?” Lydia asks.

“That’s the understatement of the century,” I snort, before reasoning that they probably won’t broadcast what I’m about to say next, and it’s not like I can’t trust Lydia and Hayley to be discreet. “My grandfather, believe it or not, is actually the current Viscount of Dunbar.”

“Wh- really?” Lydia asks, her and Hayley’s jaws dropping. “You... you’re royalty?”

“Not ‘royalty’ as such,” I reply. “Aristocracy, sure, and I am a direct descendant of a king, but I’m not an actual ‘princess.’ Heh, or ‘prince,’ even.”

“Which king?” Hayley asks, before blushing at the 'eagerness' with which she asked her question. “S- sorry, if this is, like, a sensitive topic...“

“It’s okay,” I interrupt with a smile. “And George III, for the record. He’s my six-times great grandfather.”

“Have you met the Queen?” Lydia asks, suddenly hanging on my every word.

“I have,” I reply to my friends’ excitement. “She’s exactly what you’d expect, too, very polite, very nice. So’s Prince Philip, too.”

“SO cool,” Hayley gushes.

“Yeah, well, THEY are,” I snort. “My dad and my granddad, not so much. I’m not in line to become Viscount myself as I’m the — well. I’m technically the third oldest of my father, but as far as he’s concerned, my oldest brother doesn’t exist. And the reason he doesn’t exist is because HE brought a boy home.”

“Ugh,” Hayley says, before cringing. “I- I’m sorry, Dina, I don’t mean your brother, I mean your father — ugh, not like that’s any better….”

“No, I agree with you,” I sigh. “And that’s why I- I never came out to them, not before coming in here. The memory of the way he shouted at Robert, the way his whole face just seemed to turn red, I — ugh…” I bite my lip as tears trickle down my cheeks and Hayley pulls me in for a much-needed hug. “I’m sorry….”

“No — no, it’s okay,” Hayley sighs. “I sometimes forget I’ve had it easier than a lot of other trans girls. And I bet your brother is cool, heh. Have you — like, does he know about ‘Dina?’ ”

“Nope,” I whisper as I shake my head and try to dry my eyes. “I’ve tried looking for him, on social media, I mean, but — yeah. There’s a surprising number of ‘Robert Constable’s’ on Facebook, heh.”

“Is — is that your surname, Constable?” Lydia asks, making me grimace — I HAD hoped to keep that a secret, at least….

“Umm, yeah…” I reply with a grimace. “At birth, I mean. ‘Williams’ is ‘cause my deadname is ‘William,’ and…”

“I — you don’t need to say any more,” Hayley interrupts with a supportive grin. “All we need to know is that your name IS Dina Williams. Right?”

“Absolutely,” Lydia says as she replaces my empty glass with a full one. “And I think you need another one of these, heh. And the company of good friends.”

“Too right,” Hayley says. “I mean, just ‘cause we’re in competition with each other, it doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, right? Assuming an aristocrat is okay with being friends with a working-class girl from Manchester, that is?”

“Better than I would most aristocrats,” I reply, sharing a giggle with my friends as we clink our glasses together.

I let out a long grunt of pain as the throbbing in my skull wakes me the following morning. While my memory of the night is, to say the least, incomplete, I do have memories of Lydia tending the bar until long after dark, with Martha and Marcie coming to join Hayley and I. Cheering, laughter and raucous behaviour was the order of the evening, and while the specifics are ‘blurry,’ I do remember one thing — I’ve never had so much fun, or felt so accepted, in my entire life.

After a long shower to clear my head, I pull on a casual pink t-shirt and short denim skirt, before brushing my hair, applying a light layer of make-up to my face and heading downstairs, where unsurprisingly, many of my housemates are already awake — though even less surprisingly, Hayley, Martha and Marcie aren’t.

“Morning, Dina!” Lydia says in a deliberately high-pitched and loud voice, giggling as I wince.

“Morning, and thanks,” I reply, heading straight to the kitchen to pour myself a mug of black coffee as Aura and Michelle look on disapprovingly, while Lil looks on with bemusement.

“Suffering today?” Lil asks with a smug grin. “I’d have joined ya last night, but I’ve never been a cocktail girl, lager’s more my thing, heh!” I bite my lip as I see Michelle and Aura exchange a knowing look at the Geordie woman’s statement- clearly, they’re NOT lager girls, which comes as no surprise to me.

“Never been much of a drinker full stop,” I reply to Lil’s obvious delight. “I think we — a lot of us needed to let our hair down last night, though.”

“Aye, can’t argue with that!” Lil giggles. “A week cooped up in here — not that we haven’t had a year cooped up at home already, heh.”

“These are pleasant surroundings to be ‘cooped up’ in, though,” Aura muses.

“True, I guess,” Lil chuckles. “Definitely an improvement from my flat, heh.”

“I think we can safely say that most of us have never set foot in a house this big, let alone lived,” Michelle says, making me bite my lip as Lydia casts a knowing glance in my direction.

“Well, regardless, one of us won’t be, come tonight,” Lil sighs. “Which sucks, but it’s the name of the game, I guess.”

“Well regardless,” Lydia says, “I like to think that even after we all get out of here, we’ll at least stay in touch, right? Same applies for Ginny as well. I hope she’s doing okay….”

“Her agent’s probably already been on the phone to every American brand in the north-west, heh,” Lil chuckles. “Just like how I’m gonna be the queen of Tyneside when I get out of here, heh!”

“Or the literal ‘Angel of the North?’ ” Aura asks, triggering a mass giggle as Lil stands up and gracefully curtsies at the suggestion.

However, the respite from the anxiety about the upcoming elimination announcement doesn't last long, especially when our equally hungover housemates come to join us a short while later.

Fortunately, we don’t have to wait long to learn our fate, as shortly after breakfast we’re summoned to the main room, where the faces of Krystie, Abbey-Gayle and Viks greet us on the big screen.

“Angel candidates,” Viks announces in her refined accent. “The nine of us have finished reviewing the footage of yesterday’s retro fitness challenge, and we have each independently nominated the candidates we have nominated for elimination.”

“There was nobody yesterday who arrived late, so there’s nobody automatically in line for elimination this week,” Abbey-Gayle continues.

“I can now reveal,” Krystie says in a serious tone, “that the candidates facing elimination are: Marcie.” I smile sympathetically at the dark-skinned woman as she moans and lowers her head — she’s now been in two challenges and faced elimination both times. But that just makes it even more ominous for me, too….

“Aura,” Krystie continues, prompting a grimace from the brown-haired woman. “And…” Here it comes, I think to myself. “…Michelle.” I almost don’t hear the dark-haired woman’s snort of disgust at her nomination — such is my relief at having survived to face another challenge.

As with last time, the three nominated women head back to their room to talk to their Angel mentors ahead of the ‘persuasion,’ leaving the remaining five of us to wait. Thankfully, as with before, we don’t have to wait long to find out who’s departing — and much to our collective surprise, it’s Michelle who’s voted out of the competition. Obviously, she doesn’t take her elimination well, but after she leaves, life quickly returns to ‘normal,’ with the remaining seven of us huddling around the big screen for another film night (though this time, we give the cocktails a wide berth).

With the excitement of the day behind us, the seven of us return to our rooms for an early night, though before I can get changed into my nightwear, my TV beeps to inform me of an incoming call — unsurprisingly, from my own Angel mentor.

“Hey Dina,” Kelly says with a smile but also a look of concern on her face. “Just checking to see how you’re doing?”

“Umm, I’m okay, thanks,” I reply with a smile. “A bit gutted Michelle had to go, obviously, but we weren’t THAT close, and selfishly, I- I am glad I got through that challenge unscathed.”

“More than ‘unscathed,’ every single one of us ranked you in their top 3,” Kelly tells me, prompting us to share a giggle. “You definitely bounced back great after that first challenge.”

“Thanks,” I whisper.

“I had actually wanted to speak to you earlier, though, about last night,” Kelly says, the look of concern returning to her face.

“Last night?” I ask, confused.

“Some of the things you said about your family, I mean,” Kelly clarifies. “I just — I just wanted to make sure that you were alright, if there was anything I could do, that’s all.”

“Umm, not really,” I reply. “Not unless you can magically make all forms of bigotry disappear, heh.”

“Well, I’m a mixed-race transgender woman living in a predominantly white, conservative country,” Kelly replies, making me blush. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“Sorry,” I mumble.

“No — honestly, don’t apologise,” Kelly sighs. “Just ‘cause I’ve had it bad, it doesn’t mean it’s been a walk in the park for everyone else, and girls like us, we — we need to stick together. Support each other.”

“Thanks,” I whisper. “Has — has Alice been in touch with Ginny at all, do you know?”

“I can’t give specifics,” Kelly replies, “but if you’re asking ‘will Angel mentors keep in touch with their candidates after they leave the show,’ the answer is a definite yes, and that applies for us, too.”

“Thanks,” I chuckle.

“And that also applies while you’re on the show,” Kelly reminds me. “If there’s ever anything you need, you ask, okay?”

“I will,” I say with a smile.

“I’ll let you get some sleep now,” Kelly says with a warm smile. “If you ever need anything, especially if it’s just to talk, I’m always here, but it looks like you’ve already made good friends with some of the other candidates.”

“Definitely,” I reply with a smile.

“We’ll talk again soon,” Kelly says. “You’re doing great. Keep up the good work!”

“Thanks,” I say, waving goodbye to my mentor as the call ends.

As I lay in bed that night, I think about how far I have to go — there are still 3 weeks of the competition left, after all — but also about how far I’ve already come. After Ginny’s elimination, I was worried, despite Jamie and Kelly’s presence within the Angels, that they were going to eliminate all the transgender women first. However, not only was I chosen to stay over a cisgender woman — in this case, Michelle — they chose me to stay over three cisgender women. The Angels thought highly enough of me, my skills as an influencer and my identity as a woman, to keep me in this competition. For the first time ever, I’m thinking I might actually win this thing.

Though I’m forced to concede to myself that even if I do win the competition, or even especially if I win it, my family will be no more like to accept ‘Dina Williams.’ And neither will Dina Black….