I've never been the world's most masculine man- at 5' 5" and a slender 8 and a half stone- but this is just ridiculous.

When I went to bed last night, I was wearing my boxer shorts. When I wake up this morning, things are quite different.

The first thing I'm aware of is the smell. Like a bomb had gone off in a perfume factory, the sweet floral scent seemed to surround me. Then came the taste of cherry on my lips, and a tingling sensation over my whole body. I open my eyes and reach out a hand to find my bedside table, only to be greeted with a shock- my arm is now completely hairless, and my fingernails are painted a bright purple colour!

"What the hell!" I exclaim as I look around the unfamiliar room. It's undoubtedly a girl's room, belonging to someone around my age (19). I stare down at my body and gasp with shock. My legs- encased in thin translucent tights- are as hairless as my arms. 5" black stiletto heels had been placed on my feet, and where my boxers should be, there is a denim mini skirt instead. I look down at my torso and immediately regret it. My once-flat chest has been 'augmented' with real-looking breasts, held in place by a bra and girly pink t-shirt that shows far too much cleavage for my liking.

"No, no, no," I whisper as I get to my feet, tottering on my heels but not daring to take them off for fear of what my kidnappers- as this is obviously what had happened to me- might do if they found out. As I walk toward the girl's full-length mirror, I try to unpick the wedgie that I had somehow got, only to discover I was wearing a thong. Deciding not to put it off any longer, I reach underneath my skirt, tights and thong and gingerly poke a finger toward where my 'equipment' should be. To my relief, I find it was still there- but underneath an additional layer of latex that completely restricted any movement.

Equally gingerly, I caress my breasts to discover that they're also latex- but seamlessly joined onto my skin.

Staring in the mirror, I am equally terrified and intrigued by the cute girl staring back at me. Immaculately made-up with blush, fake eyelashes, thick eyeliner, pink eye-shadow and deep, thick, burgundy lipstick, and with her short blonde hair hairsprayed into a cowlick, she is quite the knock-out.

I jump when I hear the bedroom door begin to open. My heart racing, I grab the nearest thing that could function as a weapon and brace myself...

"Charlotte?" I hear an older man's voice cry out. "Are you up yet? You know you've got a big day today!" I remain silent, my hand remaining on the lamp, preparing to use it as a weapon if the need comes. The door opens fully, and I can see that the owner of the voice is a man no taller than me, maybe 50-55 years old. His face looks familiar- and when I surreptitiously glance down at the photo on this 'Charlotte's dresser, I smile.

"I'm sorry, daddy," I begin in the most feminine voice I can manage- which was actually pretty convincing- "I just had a late night last night, that's all."

"Well you've got an early morning today," 'daddy' sternly retorts in the way only a parent can. "You know how important this interview is, if this agency adds you to their books you'll never need to find another job again." Agency? Is this Charlotte an actress or something? "We leave in forty minutes. Get yourself washed and dressed. And sort your make-up out too." With that, 'daddy' abruptly leaves, leaving me alone in this strange room with my thoughts.

Whoever this 'Charlotte' is, I clearly look enough like her to fool her own father. I checked out the date on the bedside calendar- March 30th. Last I was aware it was March 28th so obviously I was kidnapped on the 29th, made to look like Charlotte and dropped off here today. But where is the real Charlotte?

I quickly look through Charlotte's drawers for clues but all I find is more clothes, skirts, crop tops, girly t-shirts, lots of underwear of kinds I'd never even seen before and a whole drawer full of dancewear, leotards, tights, flimsy dance skirts and ballet slippers. She also has more jewellery than every female member of my family put together and more make-up too- so whoever she is, clearly she- and her family- has a lot of money.

Opening her wardrobes, I discover racks upon racks of clothes- dresses- tiny clubbing dresses and long, flowing gowns, skirts, blouses, formal suits- of which I'll need to choose one for my interview, I suppose- and over a hundred pairs of shoes and boots from ballet flats to ultra-high heels.

In the corner of Charlotte's room is a TV with a DVD player attached, and she's got plenty of DVDs and hundreds of music CDs too. Also on her bookshelf are photos of herself- and she looks exactly like me, even down to the body shape. One photo stands out in particular- of her wearing a slinky black dress- much like one I came across in her wardrobe- walking down a catwalk. She's clearly a model, and that must be what this 'agency' today will be all about. I check out the clock- it reads 8:55, giving me 25 minutes to get dressed.

I quickly kick off my heels- noting with dismay that my toenails have also been painted the same colour as my fingernails- and head into Charlotte's en suite bathroom. There, I take the time to inspect my face more thoroughly- my make-up is immaculate, despite the fact I must have slept in it last night. It is, however, a bit overdone, so I remove my false eyelashes and wipe away some of the excess eyeliner and eye shadow. I add a little mascara to try to make my face as feminine as possible to maintain the masquerade whilst not going overboard, and when I'm done, the illusion is as convincing as it was this morning. After applying a bit more lipstick and spraying on some more perfume, I make a mental note not to become too good at doing my own make up- I'm only going to be doing this until I find out what's happening, after all- before stripping off my clothes.

The skirt and t-shirt come off first, followed by the tights, leaving me in just my bra and thong. Sighing, I remove my bra and inspect 'my' breasts. They hang realistically, the weight pulling on my chest, and even close-up you wouldn't be able to tell they're artificial unless you touched them.

I pull my thong out of my backside and slide it down my legs, inspecting my crotch area in the mirror. Where my penis once was, there is now a realistic looking vagina that- on the surface at least- moves and behaves properly, even down to the tiny patch of pubic hair. I'm even able to slip the end of my finger into it. Unlike my breasts, this is not sealed to my body, and I briefly stretch it aside to see my penis lying shrivelled underneath. Sighing, I pull the 'panty' down to relieve myself in Charlotte's toilet, before rearranging it again so that on the outside, I look 100% female. 'Satisfied' with my look, I return to the bedroom to choose my outfit.

After pulling on a bra, a pair of full-bottomed panties and some dark, sheer tights, I search through Charlotte's suits for something appropriate to wear, but to my dismay, all she has are skirts, and all of them are shorter than knee-length. Even when rifling through her drawers I didn't even find so much as a pair of jeans- a couple of pairs of denim hot pants were the closest this girl has to trousers.

Looking at her shoes, I decide I'm not going to try to walk in anything higher than a 3" heel for the rest of the day, and pick out a lilac suit with matching stilettos. After donning a black satin blouse, I pull on the skirt and jacket and examine myself in the mirror, before sighing out of frustration- the skirt is tight around my backside- as all of Charlotte's skirts likely are- meaning I have to change my comfortable (ish) panties for another thong.

Once this is done, I zip myself into the skirt, slip on the pointed-toe shoes and practise walking around the room. Unlike the denim mini from earlier, this pencil skirt is more restrictive, pulling at my thighs with every stride. I quickly get the hang of it, though, and after examining myself one more time- and wondering where the hell I got two sets of earrings in each ear from- I finish off my outfit by slipping a gold chain around my neck, another around my wrist and grabbing a matching lilac handbag before bracing myself for the interview ahead.

The car journey there is conducted in silence, 'daddy' clearly upset at his little girl for staying out late last night whilst I play the part of the sulky teenager. I practise keeping my knees together throughout the ride- the last thing I need is to start projecting a male persona. For all I know, 'daddy' killed Charlotte and has kidnapped me to be her replacement...

The interview itself goes well- my choice of clothes are complimented and all I have to do is field a few easy questions about my portfolio. 'Daddy' does most of the talking- he seems to already have some form of relationship with the man. I simply sit with my hands clasped in my lap, displaying my bright purple nails to the interviewer with my knees clamped tightly together despite the discomfort- I don't want to cross my legs for fear of my skirt- I'll never get used to that, 'my skirt'- riding up further than it already has. The only really uncomfortable part of the interview comes right at the end when the man comes around the desk, shakes my father's hand, then accepts my deliberately-limp handshake and leans in closer.

My eyes widen with panic for a moment as he kisses me on the cheek, before I let instinct take over and I kiss his cheek in return, quickly swapping and kissing the other cheek as well. The man smiles- I must have got away with it. 'Daddy' quickly leads me out of the office, and the interview is done.

The car ride 'home' is conducted in silence too. I know I'm expected to speak, but my thoughts are thoroughly scrambled by the events of the first three hours. First I became a girl, then someone's daughter, then someone's employee- as a female- then I kissed another man on the cheek. I don't know how the day could get any weirder...

As we arrived 'home' I became aware of a presence standing at 'our' front door- a young man in his early twenties waving at the car as we pulled up. Oh god, I thought, please don't be Charlotte's boyfriend... But I should have known better than to second-guess fate.

"Hello Mr. Hutchinson," the tall, well-built young man says before grabbing me around my slim waist and sticking his tongue down my throat. Again, I panic- who wouldn't under these circumstances? But in the end, I allow instinct to take over and I reciprocate this total stranger's kiss, girlishly wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him close to me.

"Enough," 'daddy' half-jokingly reprimands the two of us. 'My boyfriend' releases me and I totter back slightly on my heels, forcing my burgundy lips into a smile. "Charlotte, you need to get changed and prepare for your shoot tomorrow. Keith, you can wait in the kitchen."

"Sure thing Mr. Hutchinson," Keith says, giving me another quick, but passionate kiss on the lips. Shaking slightly, I enter the vast house and quickly find my way back to 'my' bedroom, where I strip down to my underwear- carefully folding the suit away- and collapse on 'my' bed. What the hell is happening to me!? I lay there for five minutes in the vain hope that it is all just a dream, but when a knock on the door wakes me up, I am still trapped in this feminine nightmare.

"Charlie?" Keith calls through the door. "Hey, are you alright babe?" I panic for a second before responding.

"I'm fine," I lie, climbing off my bed and wandering over to Charlotte's drawers. "Just a little nervous about the interview, that's all."

"You're the most beautiful girl in the world," Keith says soppily. "They'd have to be insane not to hire you."

"Thanks, honey," I say, wincing a little at using the pet name whilst I search for a casual outfit. I want lots of layers, I think to myself, in case his hands start wandering...

"Need a hand?" Keith says cheekily as I strip off my tights and thong in favour of my earlier full-bottomed panties and a pair of thicker black tights.

"Cheeky," I tease back, hoping that I don't give the game away too much. Keith's chuckle from the other side of the door confirms that my deception is safe for now. I pick a black pinafore dress out of Charlotte's wardrobe and lay it on her bed, searching for a top to go with it before presenting myself to 'my' boyfriend.

"In all seriousness though, you shouldn't worry," Keith reassures as I find a suitable top in Charlotte's drawer- a white one with a turtle neck and lace-like sleeves. Upon closer inspection, it appears to be a bodysuit- with snaps at the crotch- instead of a normal top, but with time being of the essence (and figuring additional layers over my crotch couldn't hurt) I pull it over my head and snap it shut, before pulling on the dress and a pair of comfortable Ugg boots. I open the door to the Keith's smiling face and I can't help but smile myself.

The smile fades slightly as Keith tenderly holds my face in place to plant a long, tender kiss on my burgundy lips, but by now I'm so deep into the 'part' I can't help but reciprocate, even if I am thinking of Cheryl Cole instead of Keith... We stand there for several minutes making out before being interrupted by a loud cough. Looking up, we see 'Daddy' there smiling sheepishly at us.

"I've got your brief for tomorrow," 'daddy' says, pushing a folder into my hands. "Thanks for stopping by Keith, but Charlotte has a lot of work to do."

"That's okay Mr. Hutchinson," Keith concedes, "I just wanted to see my favourite girl at least once today!" Keith pulls me close to his 6' 2" frame as I smile and wrap my arms around him. Thank god for 'daddy', I think to myself.

"Well," 'daddy' replies, "Charlotte doesn't have to work all day..." Dammit! I think to myself.

"Thanks," Keith replies, "but I've got an early morning tomorrow." God above! I think. By now my emotions are being played with so much I'm actually clinging onto Keith to keep me upright.

"I'll see you tomorrow after your shoot?" Keith asks me expectantly. By now my mouth is completely unable to form words, all I can do is giggle and nod. Keith plants yet another kiss on my lips and moves off, leaving me to grab onto 'my' bedroom door handle to keep myself standing.

"See you tomorrow Keith," 'daddy says to the departing young man, before turning his attention on me. "Shoot tomorrow. Make sure you know what you're doing."

"O-okay," I stutter, still quivering from the emotional onslaught.

"Assuming you can keep your mind off of him," 'daddy' teases. I smile and retreat back into my bedroom, collapsing on the bed. For the first time since this ordeal started, I finally have more or less unlimited time to myself. I briefly flick through the folder- the shoot tomorrow is for an internet fancy dress store, it looks like I'll be modelling costumes mainly, French maids, playboy bunnies, naughty nurses... I sigh and drop the folder on the floor, collapsing on my bed. There has to be some sort of clue in here, I think to myself as I lay still, trying not to focus on the snare of femininity I'm encased in. I briefly consider stripping down to either nude or a pair of pyjamas, but I figure that since 'daddy's already seen me in these clothes, I may as well keep wearing them- and as loathe as I am to admit it, they're not entirely uncomfortable, especially the warm boots.

I decide there's no point in feeling sorry for myself and continue rummaging around Charlotte's room for anything that looks like a clue. Within seconds, my eyes fall across her laptop- pink, naturally- and I flip it open expectantly. Bizarrely, her password is attached to the screen with a post-it note (unsurprisingly, the password is '69keith69'). That's suspiciously insecure of her...

I switch on the laptop and enter the password, and immediately I'm shocked as a video player opens and there, in front of me, wearing the same clothes I was wearing this morning is Charlotte. Wow, I think, she really does look like me...

"Hello James," Charlotte begins in her voice, which I'm relieved to discover I've been impersonating fairly well. "I know you must be scared and you must be confused, but please hear me out, as my life my depend on it."

"My father is... not a nice man," Charlotte continues, visibly trying to subdue her emotions. My god, has he been abusing her? "I'm sure you've noticed we are a rich family. My mother... was the heir to a fortune. When she died, my father inherited it all- I was just fourteen at the time, I wasn't eligible to inherit so it all went to him."

"I know he loves me and I know the money will all pass to me once he's gone," Charlotte continues, wiping a lone tear from the corner of her eye, "but that money was my mother's. Over the past few years, I've become increasingly convinced that he killed her." I almost drop the laptop at this revelation. "I know where to find the evidence but getting it will take time. He's not let me out of his sight- other than to go out with friends- for ages, so I can't just disappear for days at a time without risk to my own life. This is where you come in." So Charlotte kidnapped me herself... she can't have done that alone, surely?

"You only need to impersonate me for the next five days," Charlotte reassures me. "Then I'll return with the evidence I need. Daddy will be arrested and the fortune will come to me." Charlotte looks down, almost as if ashamed of something. It actually takes me time to realise that her shame is because of what she's done to me. "I stumbled across your facebook page," she explains, "and your similarity to me was uncanny. Believe me, if I could've found a girl to do this I would've, but I needed to act quickly. You'd be well within your rights to go to the police yourself once this is all over, but if you co-operate I can make it really worth your while. Daddy is presently worth two and a half million pounds." This time I do drop the laptop, snatching it just before it hits the ground. "If you play your part, all that money will be mine. I'll see to it that you get 10% of it. That's two hundred and fifty thousand pounds. All yours. No questions asked. I'm sorry I had to do it this way- I couldn't take the risk of you saying no if I asked you." And I probably would have... but a quarter of a million pounds? It'd have been seriously tempting...

"On this laptop you'll find my schedule for the next few days. I've got two modelling shoots coming up- one for a fancy dress store on Saturday-" that'll be the one tomorrow, then- "and one for a lingerie store on Monday. I'll be back by Wednesday so all you need to do is fill in until then. I've left video tutorials on how to do your make-up, how to imitate my fashion, if you have any questions about how to be me, they should cover anything that might come up. Only one other person knows- my private ballet tutor, Ellen." I knew there had to be someone... "You'll be expected to attend the lessons in my stead, but you'll be able to confide in her if you suspect things are going wrong. There's just one more thing before I sign off-" I immediately sense where Charlotte is going.

"...And that's the matter of Keith." I knew it. "He doesn't know about the deception. He can't know about the deception, his family are too close to my father, your life would be in danger if he got wind of it. But... Keith is the love of my life. I adore him, I really do. Please, I know I shouldn't ask this of you, but if you can, please maintain the relationship with him. If you have to break up with him-" Charlotte begins to cry freely now- "I'll understand, but I beg of you, please at least try to make it work. He'll know that for the five days sex is out of the question- girly reasons- so you won't have to be 'with' him. But... please treat him kindly." With that, the video ends, and I sit back on the bed in a state of shock. A quarter of a million pounds for dressing up as a girl for a week? Hell, I probably would've accepted.

Following the recommendation of the video, I watch the other videos Charlotte has prepared. Over the next few hours I become an expert at applying and removing make-up, walking in heels, a couple of basic ballet steps, and all of Charlotte's quirks and feminine mannerisms and her views on fashion. It turns out my choice of dress and bodysuit was a good one- but apparently Charlotte never meets up with Keith without heels on so I dropped a bit of a clanger with the Ugg Boots, luckily I got away with it. After two hours of practice, I'm almost more Charlotte than Charlotte herself, and when I'm called down for dinner by 'daddy', my performance is flawless. I spend the rest of the day chatting with 'daddy' and listening to music in 'my' room before pulling on one of Charlotte's nighties- as recommended by Charlotte herself- and drift off to sleep.

The alarm clock rouses me from a dreamless sleep, and I am momentarily confused by the sight that greets me, of my purple fingernails and silky, light blue nightdress. Yesterday's events come flooding back though, and I lie still for a minute, trying to make sense of everything that's happened. All I have to do is impersonate this girl for four more days and I'm a quarter of a million pounds richer. How hard can it be?

"Charlotte!" 'Daddy' shouts through my door. "Breakfast in twenty minutes, you've got your shoot this morning so get ready!" Remembering Charlotte's tutorial videos, I swipe back my covers and head into the shower. As I stand under the running water, I give my breasts a quick tug, but they're sealed tight to my skin. Fortunately I don't need to shave- I've never been very hairy, either on my face or my body. After cleaning the vagina panty and rearranging it over myself, I expertly apply my make-up for the day- including a fresh coat of deep red polish to my fingernails and toenails, as recommended by Charlotte for the photoshoot- and pull on some underwear (yet another thong- some of the costumes I'll be modelling today are skin-tight so I can't get away with regular panties), a pair of slippers and one of Charlotte's satin dressing gowns before heading downstairs. 'Daddy' passes no comment- clearly I'm living up to expectations. We quickly finish breakfast, and I head upstairs to change into my day clothes. I pick out a fresh pair of black tights and a tight black miniskirt- tight around my backside and the top of my thighs but leaving everything else very exposed- and a tight khaki top. I opt for a pair of ballet flats instead of Charlotte's recommended heels- given what I would be modelling throughout the morning, I just wanted to be as comfortable as possible. Finishing off by spraying on some perfume, putting on some jewellery and grabbing a back handbag, I head down to the car where 'daddy' is waiting to take me to my shoot.

"Hi, I'm Charlotte," I hammily say in my mock-feminine voice with a big, sexy smile on my face, "and you can buy this costume only at costumes-unlimited.co.uk! For just  £19.99 you get these cute ears-" I play with the ears attached to the headband on my head- "these cuffs, this collar, this stretchy leotard and of course, this cute little tail!" I turn around and wiggle my backside for the camera. "So what are you waiting for? Grab a great deal today!" I blow a kiss at the camera, and we're done.

"Cut!" The director says, hitting a button on the camcorder pointed at my exposed body. "Beautiful, Charlotte. Just got a few stills to capture, okay?"

"Sure," I say, trying to sound as enthusiastic as possible give how uncomfortable the costume I'm wearing is. Fishnet tights, a restrictive corset wrapped around my waist, a strapless leotard and 6" spike-heeled stilettos were not what I usually wore on Saturday mornings, but that's what I found myself wearing today. With a rosette on my hip proudly displaying the name 'Charlotte', I looked every inch the playboy bunny, but that was just the start.

After stripping out of the bunny costume, I was ordered to exchange my tights for a suspender belt and a pair of back-seamed stockings- yet another new feminine experience- slip a pair of frilly French knickers over my thong and pull a French maid's dress over my constricted figure. Keeping my skyscraper heels in place, I grabbed a feather duster and repeated the whole experience again- only the script had changed this time.

More costumes followed. A nurse's uniform, a stewardess costume, a 'ringmaster' tuxedo leotard costume, a sexy schoolgirl, a Vegas showgirl, a leather catsuit, even a Star Trek dress- complete with 6" heel go go boots, naturally. For almost four hours I pose for and flirt with the camera, voice the adverts and generally try to appear as sexy as I can. At the end of it, despite myself, I breathe a heavy sigh of relief. Fortunately, the director sympathises with me.

"You did a great job, Charlotte," he reassures me as I kick off the heels and slump- still wearing my gangster's moll costume- into the nearest chair. Here I was thinking all models had to do was stand around looking pretty- this is damned hard work! Despite myself, I actually find myself looking forward to getting back into 'my' miniskirt and ballet flats and going 'home'. Naturally, my plans are again thwarted.

"Guess who," Keith's voice teased as he covered my eyes with my hands. Again despite myself, I break into a smile as I stand up and face the young man- remembering Charlotte's advice and putting the dreaded heels back on- and give him a long kiss on the lips. I mustn't enjoy this, I think to myself as he presses his face into mine. No matter how good he smells... or feels... or tastes... I snap myself out of it long enough to realise Keith's hand straying dangerously close to my breasts.

"Is this really the place?" I cheekily whisper in his ear. Quietly sighing, he withdraws his hands, instead wrapping them around my tiny waist.

"I guess not," he says with an air of frustration. "I just wish this didn't, you know, happen all the time."

"It's only a few days each month," I say, letting out an involuntary giggle. "The rest of the time I'm all yours..." This time I initiate the kiss, hoping to satisfy him enough that I can go and get changed. Oh crap, I think to myself, am I going to have to spend the whole day with him?

"Are we still on for clubbing tonight?" Keith asks as he lets me go toward my dressing room.

Dammit! I think, grimacing. The whole night, too? However, Charlotte instructions are still ringing in my ears. "Sure!" I say with a forced smile as I go and get changed back into my earlier day clothes, only swapping my comfortable ballet flats for a pair of the studio's 5" black stilettos (it turns out Charlotte always takes some clothes from each shoot as payment, 'fortunately' for me).

Sure enough, the rest of the day is spent in Keith's company, but to give him his due, he knows how to treat a woman. Despite the fact that Charlotte is mega-rich, he insists on paying for all my meals, tickets to see a movie- in which we naturally spent most of the time kissing- and even bought me a new necklace- a fancy gold one worth over  £150! Everywhere we walk we hold hands- when I'm not having to tug my skirt down, that is- and he lavishes absolutely all of his attention on me. I also have my first encounter with a ladies' public toilet- which I have to force myself to enter instead of the gents'. By the time we arrive 'home' at 7:30pm- having stopped off for a Mexican meal first- I'm absolutely exhausted. Still, I knew Charlotte's instructions, and they stated that the night was still young yet...

Leaving Keith in the living room I dragged myself up to my room and stripped off all my clothes, even my underwear. Charlotte was very particular about what she wore out clubbing- which meant I had to be too. I was too far into this to back out now...

After relieving myself and washing away any sweat that had accumulated on my body, I reapply my make-up according to Charlotte's instructions- which for nights out were 'more, more, more'. Fake eyelashes, thick eyeliner, blush, glitter absolutely everywhere. My red nail polish is replaced by a shiny silver colour- on my toes too, of course- and I spray myself down with an absolute cloud of perfume. Fortunately my hair- and by extension, Charlotte's- is short enough that I didn't need to do much with it, but I add a few waves in it like I had been shown.

Fighting back the urge to just climb into bed and cry myself to sleep, I pick out Charlotte's recommended clubbing outfit and slither myself into it. A frivolously tiny lace g-string and matching strapless bra is followed by a tight, scandalously short halter black dress- that thankfully covered up my breasts in case any wandering hands tried to make their way onto them. A pair of shiny nude tights and another pair of torturous black 6" stilettos later, and all I have to do was grab my handbag and I'm 'ready'. Sighing at the gorgeous looking 'girl' in the mirror, I head downstairs to where 'my boyfriend' was waiting.

We stay out until 11:30pm that night, bumping and grinding and, of course, snogging at every nightclub we could find. I didn't drink- citing girl problems, which Keith is fortunately none the wiser about- but by the time I got home I was barely able to stand, my feet were in such agony and I was so tired.

"Thanks for tonight," I mock-enthuse. "Actually, thanks for the whole day! I had such a great time..." Keith responds by giving me one last, longing kiss on my lips before letting me go back inside. I stagger up to 'my' room, finally kick off my heels and collapse on the bed. Fifteen minutes later and I'm in yet another of Charlotte's babydoll nighties and I'm asleep pretty much as my head hits the pillow...

"Charlotte!" 'Daddy's voice yells through the door. "Wake up! Church in thirty minutes! And I don't care if you have a hangover, this is important, you're going!" Dammit, I think to myself, I forgot they were god-botherers...

My morning routine goes as it had yesterday. Showering, cleaning my vagina panty, reapplying my make-up- subtle lipstick, eyeliner, eye shadow and mascara, something a bit more appropriate for church than last night's- and redoing my nails with a clear polish. I spray on some perfume as well, but a lot less than I was wearing last night.

My outfit of the day- by Charlotte's recommendation- is a very formal knee-length high-necked sleeveless white dress with matching handbag, 4" peep-toe stiletto heels, short cotton gloves and a very posh hat. The dress is form-fitting- very tight around the legs, like a pencil skirt- so naturally I have yet another thong riding between my buttocks underneath a pair of tan-coloured tights. My whole looks is at least fifteen years too old for either myself or Charlotte, but as Charlotte stated in her video, that was the goal.

The service goes without a hitch- 'daddy' seems more interested in the vicar's tales of forgiveness and redemption than in my indifference to the whole religion. Could Charlotte be right about him offing his wife?

We arrive back home at 12:15- after having stayed for a cup of tea with the vicar, which I drink in as ladylike a manner as I can. As I head up the stairs to 'my' room, I pause for a moment to stare at 'daddy' as he hangs his coat up. His complexion has turned pale, almost ghost-like.

"Daddy?" I ask, feigning a daughter's concern. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

"Huh?" 'daddy' asks, startled by my question. "No, no thank you Charlotte. Come here, please?" Nervously, I stride over to 'daddy' who takes me in his arms and gives me a tight, loving hug. "You're a good girl," 'daddy' continues. "You have the rest of the day to yourself and prepare for tomorrow's shoot. You've earned it." I smile- this is the first piece of good news I've had all week.

"Thank you, daddy," I say, beaming a wide, girlish grin at the middle-aged man. I head upstairs into 'my' room and quickly strip out of the dress and heels, changing into a denim miniskirt, a pair of thick black tights and a slouchy pink hoodie. I briefly consider changing my thong, but to my horror I'm finding I'm beginning to find it comfortable... I slip my feet into my- Charlotte's- comfy Ugg boots and collapse back on the bed. Once I've studied the brief for tomorrow, I have the whole day to do absolutely nothing- just as Sunday's should be- but still I'm restless.

Looking over Charlotte's list, I quickly slip a few CDs into her stereo- she's big into chart music and has CDs from just about everyone who's ever appeared on the X-Factor- grab her laptop and watch some of her videos again.

At Charlotte's suggestion, I pick up her phone and dial Keith for a long, heartfelt chat. I of course lie when asked what I'm wearing- telling him I'm wearing just a bra and a thong- but he 'sees' right through it.

We talk for almost 45 minutes about recent events, each other- Keith's studying history at university so can talk for ages about that- and I find myself not wanting to put the phone down on him. God above, I think to myself, am I falling in love with him? Shuddering at the thought, I bring the conversation to a close and turn back to Charlotte's laptop- fortunately as well as her videos, she has enough games and movies on there- all chick flicks, of course- to keep me entertained until dinner.

After dinner- which passes off without a hitch, fortunately- I keep myself entertained by preparing a bit more for tomorrow's photoshoot, painting my nails the recommended shiny black colour and trying on some of Charlotte's lingerie. In addition to bras and thongs, she has all manner of stuff (that she's thoughtfully identified for me in one of her videos)- basques, teddies, bodysuits, bodystockings, corsets & corselettes, she has three dresser drawers full of the stuff. I can't help but feel that the vast majority of it is intended to be taken off by Keith rather than herself...

I eventually slip into one of Charlotte's nighties- after a two-hour long msn conversation with Keith, of course- and head off to sleep, hoping I was mentally prepared for the photoshoot tomorrow...

Morning goes the way it has for the past three days. Woken up by 'daddy', showering, doing my make-up (Charlotte's mandate today was 'posh' so subtle eyeiner, silver eye shadow and deep red lipstick are the order of the day), pulling on a fresh bra & thong, eating breakfast and heading off to the shoot after choosing my outfit for the day (another tight black miniskirt, this time paired with a clingy black top, fishnet tights and a pair of 4" stilettos). Keeping with the 'posh' mandate, I bring along plenty of jewellery as well in my black handbag. I spray on some posh perfume- even though I know the photoshoot won't be in 'smellovision', I need to maintain the character. It's sunny outside today. so I slip on a pair of Charlotte's expensive oversize sunglasses.

The shoot goes flawlessly. My practice last night- combined with Charlotte's tutorials- ensure I am the perfect model. I model over fifty sets of lingerie for the cameras- all stills this time, no videos- mostly bra & panty sets but a few teddies, bustiers and tightly-laced corsets as well. Of course, each set of lingerie is modeled with a pair of hold-up stockings on my legs and 6" stilettos on my feet, and for the corsets & bustiers I don a pair of bicep-length black opera gloves too. As loathe as I am to admit it, I look damned sexy, even if I do feel nervous posing in front of a camera with just a thong to hide my dignity- as well as other things. I worry that the amount of time I take between each set- adjusting the vagina panty underneath each set of knickers so that nothing shows- might give the game away, but I'm never even so much as sighed at for being late.

Unsurprisingly, Keith shows up after the shoot- it being school holidays and all- but fortunately he waits until I've changed back into my day clothes before grabbing me and sticking his tongue down my throat- which I find myself eagerly reciprocating. For the first time- scarily- I'm not thinking of another girl whilst I kiss him, but instead I'm just leaning back and enjoying the moment...

"Hey gorgeous," he says, making me blush and giggle girlishly. Scarily, that last part wasn't an act... "Got time for lunch before your appointment?"

"Sure," I say, linking my fingers with his and walking off together toward the nearest restaurant. Needless to say, the lunch goes as well as the photoshoot. The odd thing is, the more I see of Keith, the more he seems to like me- Charlotte- whatever. Am I actually becoming more 'Charlotte' than Charlotte herself? As scary as it may sound, am I becoming a better girlfriend than her?

The appointment Keith was referring to was at a nearby beauty salon. Charlotte has a regular pre-paid appointment there every Monday so I have to keep up appearances- but unlike the modelling, this isn't nearly as much hard work. All I have to do is sit back as the girls treat my hair and face with what seems like every lotion under the sun. My make-up is expertly reapplied, my finger- and toenails are manicured to perfection and recoated with a layer of glossy pink polish and my whole body comes out of the salon tingling all over.

Naturally, as I exit the salon clutching my handbag, 'daddy' is waiting there for me. I now begin to realise that Charlotte wasn't joking when she said he dictated her every move.

"You look beautiful," the older man says as I slide into the passenger seat of his expensive Mercedes. "Just like your mother..."

"Thanks, daddy," I reply quietly as we drive back 'home'. They were the only words exchanged between us throughout the whole trip home.

As I arrive 'home', an older woman is waiting for us in the driveway with a knowing look on her face. This must be Ellen, I think to myself as I get out of the car.

"Hello Charlotte," she says stoically.

"Sorry we're late," 'daddy' interjects, "you know how she gets when she's at the salon!" Ellen simply smiles in response.

"That's okay," she says. "I'll be waiting in the studio Charlotte, get changed and meet me there as soon as you're ready."

"Okay," I reply equally stoically. Ellen goes back inside, but before I can follow her, I feel 'daddy's hand on my elbow, making me jump slightly.

"Have the two of you had a falling out or something?" He probes firmly. I've been impersonating Charlotte for four days now, but every time I'm put on the spot like this, I get nervous.

"She- she-" I stutter, trying to think of an excuse. "She's just been giving me some difficult steps to learn, that's all." 'Daddy' rolls his eyes at this excuse. Inside, my heart is pounding, expecting to be exposed at any second...

"Well you need to keep at it," 'daddy' lectures me. "If you're going to be a professional model you need grace and poise and I am paying that woman too much money for you to give up now!" Outwardly, I appear devastated, but inside I'm breathing a sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry, daddy," I say sadly. "I'll try harder, I promise!"

"See that you do," the older man says, leading me into the house. I quickly head up to Charlotte's room and change out of my day clothes into Charlotte's ballet gear, a pair of soft pink tights and a very snug black spaghetti-strap leotard. After attaching a pair of satin ballet 'pointe' shoes to my feet the way I was shown in one of Charlotte's tutorial videos, I wrap a flimsy see-through skirt around my waist and trip off to the bedroom within the house that's been converted into a private dance studio. Once I'm inside, Ellen makes sure the door is securely shut, then breathes a sigh of relief.

"I take it I'm not talking to the Charlotte I've known for eleven years," the middle-aged woman says sadly. "I'm really sorry we had to do this to you, it's just-"

"It's okay, I understand," I interrupt, but speaking in my feminine voice. May as well get in as much practice as I can... "And besides, I've been promised a lot of money out of this."

"Charlotte's a good girl," Ellen explains. "She'll make sure you're rewarded for your part. I just need to know- would you have said yes if we'd asked?"

"I don't know," I reply honestly, moving with Ellen to the centre of the studio and sitting down on the floor cuddling my knees to my chest, wondering whether to wince or smirk at the feeling of the thong being dragged further into my backside. "I'd probably have said no but in hindsight, it's really not been that bad..." Except perhaps Keith, I think, but I'm even enjoying that...

"Thanks anyway," Ellen shrugs, not satisfied with my answer. "Oh, and Charlotte's father will often come and observe her lessons, so we'd better go and stand by the barre- and can you take your skirt off please?"

"Sure," I reply, untying the flimsy garment and placing it out of the way on the floor. "Charlotte's actually taught me a couple of steps in her videos, I reckon I could bluff if he does come in to observe."

"Not in those shoes you can't, dear," Ellen replies condescendingly. "You need to have danced for at least 18 months to go en pointe." She's not alone in saying that- Charlotte warned me not to try dancing on the tips of my toes in her videos.

"Wow," Ellen says, turning to face me. "Really- the illusion really is incredible, I'd never be able to tell." Smiling, I turn my feet out into the ballet first position- as demonstrated by Charlotte in a video- and hold my hands out in front of me. Ellen giggles and gives me mock applause. "Now try second?" I comply, and we eventually run through all five positions, and a couple of plies and tendus, even an arabesque- stretching my leg far out behind me- which Ellen applauds, laughing her head off.

"You're better than I thought!" Ellen said with genuine praise in her voice. "Ever considered taking lessons?"

"No, not really," I replied, returning to first position and causing the teacher to smirk some more. "Before all this, I'd never looked at a girly thing in my life."

"Hey," Ellen says with mock hurt, "ballet can be masculine! ...Though perhaps not the way you're dressed. You do make a cute ballerina though!" Despite myself, I can't help but smile and blush. "Even cuter!" Ellen teases. Just then, we both jump at the sound of a knock on the door of the studio.

"Damn," Ellen whispers.

"Ellen? Charlotte?" 'daddy' calls through the door. "Can I come in?"

"Just a second!" Ellen replies, dragging me over to the horizontal bar mounted on the wall. "Grab hold of the barre, go along with what I'm doing, and don't try to move or dance. Just hold that barre tight."

"Okay," I reply, wincing as Ellen bends my feet outwards so that eventually I'm standing on the tips of my toes, en pointe to use the technical term.

"I'll get rid of him," Ellen reassures me as I concentrate hard on not falling on my butt. "Just hold your balance- and don't try to lean your weight on the barre. I'm sorry, but it looks really fake and he'll see straight through it." God damn it, I think self-pityingly, how much more abuse can one pair of feet take?

It takes almost two minutes, during which I can barely concentrate on what they're saying for fear of flying onto my backside, but 'daddy' finally leaves and I relax back onto the soles of my poor feet.

"You held that well," Ellen reassures me, leading me to the centre of the floor where I sit down and take the weight off of my legs and feet. "Better than I could have hoped for, actually- are you sure you're not really a ballerina?"

"Positive," I say, wiping the sweat from my brow. "Oh no," I mutter immediately afterwards as I spot a problem on my chest.

"What is it?" Ellen asks with concern.

"My left boob," I say, wondering when the hell a phrase like that became normal. "The glue's starting to wear off, I'm probably sweating too much."

"It's okay, it's okay," Ellen reassures me. "Charlotte showed you how to cover that up."

"But it's already started to peel," I whinge, picking at the latex edge clearly visible above my leotard.

"Picking at it won't help!" Ellen scolds, and I quickly leave it alone. "You didn't bring along a sweater or a cardigan... I've got an idea but it's going to be tricky. Put your skirt back on." Hastily complying- and trying not to make the edge of my boob peel any more- I allow Ellen to fold my arms over my chest so that I'm effectively disguising the damaged area.

"Follow me back to your room, we'll sort it out there." Ellen instructs.

"Okay," I reply nervously. "What if daddy catches us?" I pause briefly, wondering when it became so natural to call him 'daddy'...

"I'll think of something," Ellen responds, the nerves clear in her voice. Quietly- out of fear of making my boob situation any worse- I follow her out of the room. We don't get ten steps before we run into 'daddy'.

"Is the lesson over already?" He enquires with slight anger in his voice. "It's only been 35 minutes..."

"We, umm," Ellen stutters, before finishing boldly, "we need to get Charlotte's practice tutu! Big recital coming up!"

"I wasn't aware of that," 'daddy' replies with suspicion.

"It was only booked on Saturday," Ellen explains, hastily inventing her story.

"And you didn't think to tell me about it a few minutes ago whilst we were talking?" 'daddy' presses further. This is it, I think to myself nervously, I'm going to get found out, I'm going to die dressed up as a ballerina...

"Well you never gave me the chance," Ellen replied with mock hurt in her voice. "You were all concerned with Charlotte's form, how well she's doing in lessons- which as we established, is great. I can't help but feel you don't trust me as much as you should..." You go girl! I think, smirking inwardly as Ellen's deception.

"Okay, okay," daddy says, holding his hands up. "Can I see a few steps once she's in her tutu?" I start to panic again and Ellen and I briefly exchange a stare.

"They're very complicated," Ellen improvised. "I want to give her more time to learn them before I make her perform them for anyone." To our collective surprise, 'daddy' nods in agreement.

"Charlotte did mention she was struggling with them," the older man states, remembering my earlier deception. "Oh well, maybe in the future."

"One more thing," Ellen asks before we move off. Dammit! I think to myself. We were in the clear! "Can we move Wednesday's lesson forward to tomorrow? I want to drill these steps into Charlotte whilst they're fresh in her mind."

"Of course," 'daddy' nods, "as long as I can see a couple of them!" Inwardly, my heart sinks. Way to torpedo our chances, I self-pityingly think to myself.

"We'll see," Ellen says with a smile, before we move off together toward my- Charlotte's bedroom. Once we arrive, Ellen springs immediately to action, handing me a wide, white tutu before rummaging through Charlotte's drawers for something else.

"Wrap that around your waist," Ellen instructs, which I do, removing my dance skirt first. So now I'm wearing a proper ballerina's tutu, I think to myself. No matter how many feminine experiences I have, each one is even weirder than the last. Ellen quickly returns with a small bottle of what looks like glue. Like an expert, she applies it first to my chest, then to the peeling latex of my breast. Within five minutes, it has set solid and is looking just as good as it was before.

"I'm afraid this'll take longer to remove than it otherwise would have," Ellen explains. "You'll have to put up with breasts for a bit longer than we'd hoped."

"They're not too bad," I say, trying to ease the teacher's worries as I cup the two weights dangling from my chest. Ellen, for her part, simply rolls her eyes.

"Typical man," she says quietly. "Give him a pair of breasts and he's happy, even if they are his!" I can't help but feel a little offended by this- but scarily, what I'm offended at isn't her accusing men of being sex-crazed beasts, but of her calling me a typical man...

"We'd better get back to the studio before your father catches us," Ellen says, not realising her mistake at calling the older man 'my' father.

The remaining 45 minutes of the lesson goes without a hitch. Ellen teaches me a few of the steps that I may have to dance for 'daddy' tomorrow- though she is still reluctant to let me up en pointe, to my relief.

Once the lesson ends, I lead Ellen back to her car- changing out of my- Charlotte's pointe shoes into a pair of ballet flats first- where we exchange a girly air kiss before she leaves for the day. As I turn round to head back into the house- still feeling slightly ridiculous in my tutu- 'daddy' is waiting there for me.

"We need to talk," the older man says, much to my chagrin.

"Can't I change first?" I ask, nervous about the repair job on my breasts coming undone.

"It won't take long," 'daddy' explains, leading me indoors. "I'm not happy with the job Ellen's been doing," he continues candidly.

"She's been my teacher for years," I retort, "she's great-"

"Let me finish," the older man interrupts. "You yourself have said she's pushing you too hard, and that little chat this afternoon was very interesting. I don't trust her." 'Daddy' coughs, as if to cover up that last sentence. "I don't trust her to do as good a job with your tuition as you deserve," he says, placing his hands on my shoulders.

"She's my friend," I say, holding 'daddy's hands to my shoulders- and away from my latex breasts.

"I know," 'daddy' says with genuine love and concern in my voice. "But I only want what's best for you." He leans forward and gives me a loving kiss on my forehead. "Go on," he says, motioning toward 'my' room, reminding me I have the rest of the day free.

I quickly trip back up to Charlotte's room, removing the tutu but leaving the leotard and tights in place- Charlotte always leaves them on after her lessons- and pulling on a girly pink t-shirt (covering up my breasts just in case of any further 'accidents') and a layered, ruffled black miniskirt, opting out of yet another denim mini after remembering Charlotte's instructions not to wear the same type of clothes too much in a short space of time.. I also put some of Charlotte's jewellery back on, having removed it for the dance lesson.

After dinner- which passes in really uncomfortable near-silence- I head back up to my room, still nervous about 'daddy's demeanour towards Ellen. Does he suspect me too? I think to myself. If he suspects Charlotte, I'm in trouble, but if he finds out I'm not Charlotte, I'm dead... I lie on my back listening to music for almost a quarter of an hour before deciding I need to talk to someone. I can't call Ellen for fear of 'daddy' finding out, and I can't talk to the man himself, so this leaves just one person...

"Hey gorgeous," Keith says as he enters my bedroom, giving me a long, loving kiss on my freshly-made up lips. God, I think to myself, I've missed him... "You said you needed to talk?"

"Yeah," I say with audible sadness in my voice, kicking off the 4" heels I'd changed into just to meet him and sitting down on the bed, with Keith coming and sitting next to me. "I don't even know what I want to talk about," I continue, giggling and trying not to cry.

"It's okay, it's okay," Keith reassures me, taking my head in his hands. Good job I made sure my face is clean-shaven, I think to myself.

"I'm your boyfriend, it's my job to sit back and listen," he continues, giving me one further kiss on my lips.

For the next hour, we relax on the bed, chatting about our various woes (Keith's struggling with some of his university coursework- I mention struggling with my ballet as a way to try to sympathise with him). Throughout our chat, Keith's hands wander all over- my hips, my butt, my thighs (yes, underneath my skirt) and occasionally my breasts. Thank god I'm wearing a leotard, I think to myself- wondering when I would have ever had that thought in the past- as he caresses the unnatural bumps on my chest whilst I fake a satisfied sigh.

"I've got a question for you," Keith says with sincerity in his voice. Holy shit, I think, is he proposing? "I'm not really sure how to word this..." My heart begins to beat faster.

"Yes?" I ask, almost breathless with- genuine- excitement and anticipation.

"Will you..." Keith leans in closer to me and whispers in my ear. "Dance for me?" I pull back, staring at Keith's face with confusion. Way to get a girl's hopes up, I think to myself. A fake girl's hopes up... I hastily correct my earlier thought.

"I'm- I'm sorry?" I ask, genuinely confused by the question.

"Well you said you're struggling with your ballet," he explains, gently caressing my thigh. "I'd like to see a few steps."

"I'm struggling with them, remember?" I say jokily. "I don't want to look like an idiot falling on my bum in front of you..."

"Well some easier steps then," Keith says pleadingly. "It's been ages since I last went to one of your recitals, and it's not like you're not dressed for it..." Rolling my eyes, I decide that one or two steps couldn't hurt.

"Oh, okay then," I say, getting off the bed and fishing Charlotte's pointe shoes out of her dresser.

"Cool!" Keith says, shifting to the edge of the bed so he can watch me strip down to my leotard, wrap the tutu around my waist and tie the pointe shoes to my feet. Damn it, I think to myself, why did I instinctively reach for the pointe shoes when she has other ballet slippers? Still, too late to backpedal now I suppose...

I stand before 'my' smiling boyfriend and turn my feet and arms out into a perfect first position as he laughs and applauds, much like Ellen had earlier. I run through a few basic steps, much to his delight.

"Do a pirouette!" Keith shouts, grinning from ear to ear. Blushing and wondering how the hell I'm going to pull it off, I sweep my leg back behind me, and rising onto my tiptoes, spin around 360 degrees, landing gracefully. How on Earth did I do that? I think to myself, blushing further and laughing into my pink-tipped fingers.

"Nah, a proper pirouette," Keith says, slightly disappointedly. "You know, on the end of your toes. You're wearing the proper shoes for it, aren't you?" Crap! I think to myself.

"Yeah, but I'm not supposed to go en pointe," come on, think... "On carpet," I explain, looking down at the floor. "It'd ruin the shoes."

"Your dad's a millionaire, he can buy more," Keith says encouragingly. "Come on..." I sigh. How hard can it be?

"Okay," I say resignedly, "but if I fall flat on my face it's your fault, understand?" Keith nods expectantly as I try to remember how Ellen manipulated my feet earlier. I sweep my leg back again and once again spin, this time springing up en pointe as I spin around. Miraculously, I land perfectly once again. I guess somebody up there likes me, I think to myself as Keith steps off the bed, coming towards me to give me another long, deep kiss...

"Let me get dressed first!" I laugh, reluctantly pulling away from Keith's embrace.

"No, come on," Keith pleads, "can't you stay in just your leotard?"

"It's so cold!" I complain. Actually, with three layers of fabric and another of latex around my crotch, if anything it's too warm, but I need those layers on...

"I can keep you warm," Keith says, coming up behind me and wrapping his strong arms around my waist before kissing my neck. I sigh for a second, wanting to stay in the moment forever- despite the feel of his obvious erection pressing into my lycra-covered butt- but I know I need to maintain my cover.

"I've told you, two days," I tease. "Then we can be as warm as you want!" Keith pouts a little, obviously trying to elicit sympathy from me- and succeeding.

"Okay," he concedes as I take off my tutu and pointe shoes and put my t-shirt and skirt back on. Once I've dressed again, I yelp as Keith scoops me up in his arms and lays me back down on the bed, before jumping beside me and giving me yet another passionate kiss.

"Are these... times of the month as frustrating for you as they are for me?" He asks. Good question, I think to myself, before making up what I think would be the right answer.

"You have no idea," I say, wrapping my slender arms around his neck. No more words are exchanged as we kiss each other passionately, working up a sweat as our hearts beat faster and faster. Good job I redid the glue, I think as Keith kisses what little of my neck pokes above the neck of the t-shirt. I gasp out of shock, however, as one of his hands finds its way underneath my skirt and begins to massage my groin, right on top of the vagina panty.

"Is that good for you?" He asks, continuing to dance his fingers across the lycra gusset of my leotard. Again, I'm forced to hastily think of the correct answer. Do girls orgasm when on their periods? Keith sure seems to think they do...

"Yes," I say breathlessly, "yes!" I cry as he probes further. Within a minute, I'm laid on the bed, thrashing and crying and faking the most violent orgasm I can. It lasts for over thirty seconds before I lay back down, desperately trying to catch my breath. "Wow," I mouth, as Keith leans over to give me another longing kiss. I wish there was some way I could repay him, I think to myself. To maintain my cover, I hastily add.

But there is a way to repay him, a voice from inside reminds me. You have a mouth...

But I'm not gay, I think in reply to my earlier thought.

Says the person in the pink t-shirt and miniskirt with their tongue stuck down another man's throat...

This is just to maintain cover, he kissed me first...

Oh don't give me that. You've fallen in love with him, you know you have. What difference does it make if you put something else of his in your mouth? Who's ever going to know? You and him?

I'm doing this for money, it'd make me a whore!

Oh I think that ship has already sailed, don't you? Despite myself, I can feel my left hand reaching down toward Keith's fly, ready to unzip it. it's any consolation, just think of yourself as 'Keithosexual' rather than just regular gay. As Keith's fly comes undone, his erect penis springs into my hand, momentarily startling me. This is it, I think, I'm masturbating another man. I am now officially gay. 'Keithosexual'. Whatever. The scary thing is, it doesn't repulse me as much as I thought it would. In fact, it doesn't repulse me at all...

I slowly masturbate Keith's penis to full length, my heart now beating faster than ever, before I look deep into his eyes, smile, and duck my head down to meet his throbbing organ.

Well, this is it, I think to myself as I stare at the penis's glistening head in front of me. Now or never... Leaning forward, I give the end of his penis a longing kiss, sucking some of the moisture off of it. And as much as I hated to admit it, it tasted good...

I take the next few inches of his penis into my mouth, licking and sucking for all I was worth. Keith's moans and grunts tell me I'm doing a good job.

Eventually, I have all of his penis in my mouth and I suck as hard as I can, desperately trying not to bite or laugh at the feeling of his pubic hair tickling my nose. Within a few seconds, his penis engorges, thrusting deep into me and shooting his seed down my throat. I try not to gag as I gulp down his juices before he finishes, his once-mighty penis going limp in my mouth. I give it one last suck- to clean it, before putting it back into his pants. I pull myself back up to Keith's eyeline, where he waits, a thousand-yard stare etched onto his face.

"That was- that was-" Keith begins, before I silence him with a long, lingering kiss. "I love you, Charlotte."

"I love you, Keith," I reply. And I mean it. I really meat it. That thought didn't horrify me or sicken me or cause any other reaction it would have last week. I love Keith. And in two days, I'll have to give him back...

As I kissed Keith goodbye at the front door, I held his hands and didn't want to let him go, but I knew I had to- it was getting late and I had my last day as Charlotte waiting for me in the morning. I return to 'my' bedroom, strip out of my heels, my clothes and my ballet gear and inspect my breasts for any signs of the glue peeling- there is none. Ellen really had done a good job... My lipstick was horribly smeared, though- unsurprisingly!

I change into one of Charlotte's nighties and climb into bed, dreaming all night of a boy...

I was allowed- mercifully- to sleep in on Tuesday, my last day as Charlotte. Eventually rising around ten, I follow my- Charlotte's normal morning routine of breakfast, showering, putting on underwear (another thong, as I had ballet later today) and doing my make-up (subtle pink colours today, as I wasn't going anywhere) by getting dressed into one of Charlotte's short, tight grey sweater dresses (with a turtleneck)- it still being colder than usual outside- pairing it with a pair of thick black tights, a wide leather belt and a pair of over-the-knee leather boots, with a 4" heel, naturally. With my pink nails and pink lipstick, I'd never looked so chic whilst feeling so comfortable.

My morning was spent on the internet, listening to music and on the phone to Keith, before being interrupted by 'daddy' knocking on the door at about 11am.

"Charlotte?" The older man calls through the door. "Great news! The man from Spencer & Hall"- the modelling agency I'd interviewed with last Friday- "called and they want to meet us again!"

"That's great!" I shout through the door with genuine excitement. "When do they want to see me again?"

"That's the thing, they want to fit us in today," 'daddy' explain. "Can you get ready in half an hour?"

"Sure," I say, springing off my bed and heading over to get a suit out of Charlotte's wardrobe.

"Well that would make a refreshing change," the older man teases.

"Very funny," I tease back, consciously worrying if I'd accidentally given the game away...

I change out of my dress and tights into a white satin blouse, glossy, translucent black tights and a powder pink suit with a short- 4" above the knee- pencil skirt. To match my nails and makeup, of course. A pair of matching 5" stilettos and handbag later, and after applying more makeup, spraying on more perfume and sorting out my jewellery, I was ready.

It was only as I hopped down the stairs to the car- perfectly comfortable in my- Charlotte's skyscraper heels- that I realised I was actually excited about the interview. For the first time since all this had begun, I was looking forward to what my future as Charlotte would hold.

Whilst the ride to the interview was conducted in awkward silence- as the first one had been, only for different reasons this time (namely Ellen)- the interview itself goes swimmingly. This time around, I'm much more confident, much securer in my skin as Charlotte. I talk at length about what I wanted to offer the agency as a model, my various strengths and skills. I am again complimented on my look- this time I didn't even have to concentrate on keeping my knees together or my feminine mannerisms, they all come so naturally to me.

"Well, Charlotte," the interviewer says at the end of the interview, clearly impressed by how well it's gone, "I'm happy to say that Spencer & Hall would like to add you to our books."

"Oh my god!" I squeak, holding my hands up to my mouth. "Yes, obviously I accept!" I look to my side where 'daddy' sits with a wide, beaming grin on his face. Clearly, I'd done good, I'd made him proud.

"Welcome aboard," the interviewer says, walking around the desk and accepting my limp handshake. Once again, he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek- only this time, even that action felt perfectly natural. After shaking 'daddy's hand, he laid out what would be expected of me- usually two shoots a week and a fashion show every other weekend. It's only at this point that it hits me- it would be Charlotte doing the actual job and not myself- and that fact makes me sad. I'm going to miss being Charlotte. And I wasn't ashamed of that fact one bit.

The car ride 'home' was very different from the car ride to the agency.

"I'm proud of you," 'daddy' says with genuine happiness in his voice. "So very proud. You accomplished this all by yourself without any help from me. You're your own woman now. I love you, Charlotte."

"Thank you, daddy," I say, pretending to try to choke back tears. "I love you too."

"We should celebrate!" 'Daddy' suddenly announces. "I'll let everyone know there'll be a party at our house tonight. You can invite Keith and some of your friends, I'll get the caterers in. And how does a new dress- no, how does a whole new wardrobe sound?" I open my mouth to respond in the positive, and it takes a few seconds to remember that I am not Charlotte. I'm not even female. The more time I spend as Charlotte, the harder it is to remember that.

"That sounds great daddy, but," I begin, "can't we have something a little more intimate, just you, me and Keith? My two favourite guys?" Fortunately, 'daddy' smiles and nods in agreement.

"I suppose it can wait until the weekend," 'daddy' announces.

"Can I still have the new dress though?" I ask with a cheeky glint in my eye that 'daddy' immediately sees through.

"How can I say no to my favourite girl?" The older man replies with a proud, father's smile, turning the car around and taking us back into the city centre.

Dress shopping takes almost an hour and a half. I try on over twenty dresses, eventually settling on a strapless black chiffon knee-length gown. And, of course, matching shoes- with a 5" stiletto heel, naturally- and a matching handbag.

We arrive back in time for my ballet lesson, but to my surprise, there's no sign of Ellen's car in our- sorry, 'our' massive driveway.

"Where's Ellen?" I enquire. "She's usually early for my lessons..."

"I called her to cancel whilst we were out shopping," 'daddy' announces. "I'd have thought you'd want today to celebrate, after all. Go on upstairs, call Keith and let him know the good news- I'll bring up your new clothes." Despite the unexpected loss of my confidante for today, I force my pink lips into a smile.

"Thank you, daddy," I say, before strolling up to my- Charlotte's room, grabbing my- her phone and dialling my- her, her boyfriend.

"I got the job!" I excitedly squeal down the phone at Keith, worried at the damage I might be doing to his eardrums.

"I knew you would!" Keith yells back down the phone at me. "I'm so, so proud of you Charlotte. I love you." Just hearing him say those words makes my heart melt inside.

"I love you too," I whisper back. We spend over half an hour chatting before I get around to inviting him out for the celebratory dinner tonight, and another half an hour chatting after that. This is the last day I'll be able to spend with Keith... I want to make it last. Eventually I'm interrupted by 'daddy' calling me down for lunch. I change back into my sweater dress and boots from earlier- nobody's seen me in it yet and it was very comfortable.

After lunch- which was spent chatting freely with 'daddy' for possibly the first time ever- I head back up to my room to prepare for tonight's meal. I pull on the new dress over a strapless bra- fortunately, despite being strapless, the dress does cover up my breasts (part of the reason I chose it!)- and pull on a pair of nude tights before stepping into my new stilettos. Immediately, though, my mind is drawn to something I spotted in one of Charlotte's lingerie drawers. Taking off the tights, I wrap a suspender belt around my waist- feeding the suspenders through my thong- and carefully roll a pair of back-seamed silk stockings up my legs. They feel amazing once they're on- especially against the light chiffon of the dress- and make my legs look incredible. Nothing's too good for Keith... I redo my nails a deep red colour and fix up my makeup- false eyelashes, thick eye shadow, burgundy lipstick, the works. After liberally spraying on perfume and putting on my- Charlotte's expensive jewellery, making Keith's new necklace the most prominent piece, I examine myself in the mirror. I look just like a movie star getting ready for a premiere. And in 24 hours time, this life will all be gone. Sure, I'll be a quarter of a million pounds richer and I won't be living in fear of being found out, but I'm beginning to truly love being Charlotte. It's true what they say- you don't know what you've got until it's gone.

The meal goes perfectly. Keith looks so amazing, himself like a movie star at a premiere. We're easily the biggest attention-grabbers in the restaurant, and despite 'daddy' chaperoning us, we can barely keep out hands off each other. When he's not eating, Keith's hand spends most of its time either on my thigh or entwined with my hand. We chat long into the night about the future, my- Charlotte's modelling career, Keith's university studies. Despite having only just jumped into Charlotte's life four days ago, I'm able to bluff my way through perfectly- I know her now better than I know myself.

It's 11:30pm by the time we arrive at home. Fortunately, 'daddy' takes the not-so-subtle hint I drop in his direction and leaves me alone with Keith for a brief, beautiful moment. Once 'daddy' is gone, I decide I can't hold back any more and I launch myself at Keith, wrapping myself in his arms and giving him the longest, most passionate kiss any girl has ever given any boy. We stay there, in each other's arms, for almost ten minutes before, with tears welling up behind my eyes, I pull away from him and head up into my room. I slip into a silky nightie and climb into my bed, trying not to cry myself to sleep...

When I wake up the next morning, I have the shock of my life waiting for me as there, staring me in the face, is... myself.

"Shh," my doppelganger says from her position sat on the end of the bed. It takes me a while to realise that this girl is in fact Charlotte. The real Charlotte. She's dressed in my- yes, my dress and shoes from last night, clearly eager to try them on for herself. "You've got great taste," she says as she models the dress for herself in her- yes, her- full-length mirror. "For a boy." Yet again, I'm strangely offended by that last remark...

"I had a good teacher," I say, not bothering to drop the girly voice that has suddenly become so natural to me. "I guess you'll be wanting your life back," I say sadly.

"Well, yeah," Charlotte says condescendingly. Wow, I think to myself, is she really such a bitch? "And I suppose you'll be wanting your 250 grand, fair's fair."

"So is he-?" I ask, referring to 'daddy'.

"The police cars came half an hour ago whilst you were still asleep," Charlotte explains. "He confessed everything once I presented the evidence to him, didn't even try to defend himself. He's signed everything over to me. I am now officially a millionaire."

"Congratulations," I say half-heartedly. Couldn't she have given me at least the morning? I self-pityingly think to myself as Charlotte gets fed up of the dress and takes it off, carefully hanging it back up in her wardrobe.

"Oh come on," she says, pulling on a tight tank top and miniskirt, not even bothering to shield her body from my eyes. "You can't tell me it wasn't worth it. Think about where you were before all this, James," it seems weird hearing my real name said again. "Living in a dingy bedsit, surviving on benefits, no family, very few friends, no job, no hope of a job- now you've got capital, the chance to be independent and do what you want."

"That's true," I say, getting out of bed and instinctively going over to Charlotte's drawers to pull on a dressing gown, only to be stopped by the girl herself.

"Get your own!" She says defensively. "It's not like you can't afford it now, if that's what you're into..."

"I would do if I had my own clothes here?" I retort, pointing out the flaw in Charlotte's argument. To my chagrin, she hands me a pale blue cotton robe, a far cry from the exquisite garments I'd been wearing over the past few days.

"I'll have a taxi take you home later on today," Charlotte explains, clearly eager to get me out of her life. "Once we've, well, cleaned you up first."

"Okay," I say ambivalently. "No time like the present, I suppose..." Charlotte nods and we head toward her bathroom. Before we get there, however, we're interrupted by her bedroom door opening and a very familiar voice.

"Charlie!?" Keith calls from the other side of the door. "I heard what happened! Are you okay? Is everything-" Keith swings the door open and stops dead in his tracks as he stares at the two of us, virtually identical in every way. For a second, he looks as though he's about to faint.

"Awk-ward..." Charlotte and I say simultaneously.

"Who- wha- twins?" Keith asks, his eyes looking like they're about to roll out of his head.

"Keith! HI!" Charlotte cries out nervously. "No, not twins, this is, Ja-, uh,"

"Jamie!" I continue in my now naturally-feminine voice. "Jamie-Lee..." I hastily scan Charlotte's CD rack for inspiration. "Burke. Nice to meet you." I offer a limp handshake that Keith nervously accepts.

"So wha-?" Keith asks, still dumbfounded at the sight of two copies of his girlfriend.

"Jamie's a friend of mine," Charlotte explains, "she's a- a- model..."

"Actress," I interject simultaneously, earning a dirty look from Charlotte. "Model and actress," I quietly correct myself.

"This is too much to take in..." Keith says, leaning back on the doorframe. "Who exactly have I been going out with the last two days?" I blush a deep red, staring down at my red-tipped toenails.

"I'd better catch you up to speed," Charlotte says, leading Keith out of the room and leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I'm left on my own for almost 45 minutes, still projecting a fully female image in my make-up, my breasts and vagina panty firmly in place, but still wearing only a plain blue dressing gown. I jump slightly as the door opens and Charlotte pokes her head around the door.

"Hey," she says with a smile, her demeanour a lot friendlier than it had been earlier.

"Hi," I reply. I'd not spoken in 45 minutes and wasn't even thinking when I replied, and yet it was still my feminine voice that came out...

"I've told Keith about, uh, our little switcheroo," Charlotte explains, sitting next to me on the bed. "I think he's come to terms with it," Charlotte mumbles, pausing for a brief second to compose herself. "After apologising profusely to me for, well, repeatedly sticking his tongue down your throat."

"Yeah, uh, sorry about that," I mumble, gazing intently at the floor.

"Well, I did ask you to try to maintain the relationship," Charlotte concedes. Obviously Keith didn't go into detail about Monday night...

"What surprised me most," Charlotte says, turning and facing me with a grin on her face, "was that I'm apparently now represented by Spencer and Hall. I'm guessing you don't know exactly who they are?"

"A modelling agency?" I reply, incredulously.

"A modelling agency?" Charlotte asks back condescendingly. "Only the biggest modelling agency in the country! I thought I had no chance of passing the interview myself, let alone having you pass it for me!"

"Yeah, but you're a millionaire now," I say with a sad smile. "Do you really want to get up and go to work every day?"

"Uh- yeah!" Charlotte says, her eyes wide with excitement. "Do you know how many models they represent who've become their own brand?" Charlotte looks at my confused face and smiles a smug- but friendly- smile. "I guess you probably don't. But believe me, it's a big deal, and I owe you so much thanks for securing the deal for me."

"You could always give me more money?" I jokingly ask.

"No I couldn't sweetie," Charlotte retorts, before we both collapse into a heap of giggles.

"I guess we'd better get you ready to go home," Charlotte says with audible sadness in her voice. Sadly, I follow her to the bathroom, but we stop halfway when Charlotte spots something in her laundry basket.

"Except," she says, holding up a red-tipped finger, "what boy would wear these on a night out, hmm?" Charlotte accuses, retrieving the silk stockings I'd worn last night and holding them in her hand.

"You said always wear hosiery when going out," I retort, trying to hold back a smile.

"Oh I did," Charlotte admits, "but I actually meant 'a pair of cheap tights' rather than 'expensive and oh so sensual silk stockings'."

"Well then," I say, adopting some of Charlotte's smugness. "You should've been clearer in your video, shouldn't you?" To my surprise and delight, Charlotte breaks into a broad, beaming grin.

"Can I share a secret with you, Jamie?" Charlotte asks, her grin being replaced by a sad smile.

"Of course," I reply. I've- to all intents and purposes- been this girl for five days, what secrets can she hide?

"My life..." Charlotte begins solemnly. "It's a lonely life. Sure, I've got Keith, and I love him, I really do, but I was homeschooled ever since I was 14, after mum died. I had private ballet tutors- who you met- and my life was spent either in photoshoots, fashion shows or at home in lessons. I've never really had anyone I can feel close to, never really had a BFF." I smile- I think I can see where Charlotte's going with this.

"Sure, I can send you back to being plain old James," Charlotte says. "And if you like all this girly stuff- and I can hardly criticize you if you do, given how much I love it! If you like it you can continue it as a hobby, maybe at the weekends. Or," I smile as Charlotte steps close to me, "maybe we should just let James be a thing of the past and let Jamie-Lee Burke take over. I know what you life was like before this, Jamie. Who knows, maybe I'll even be able to pull a few strings and get you a modelling job or two- assuming the work you did on Saturday and Monday was up to scratch! Of course, once you start down this road there'll be no going back. Your life from now until you die will be either as a boy, or a girl. Which is it going to be? Take your time if you need to."

I would. Since this adventure started all I wanted was to go back to being a boy, to be able to wear boxer shorts and eat what I wanted- which admittedly, wasn't ever very much. But over the last five days, I've felt more alive than ever. I've made true friends- Ellen, and even Charlotte- for the little amount of time we've spent together- are better friends than any boy I've ever known. And I've actually started to like being a girl. Beforehand, I was a boy because that's what I was. But I've come to realise over the last five days, I don't have to be a boy if I don't want to. I make a good girl- a better girl than I do a boy, truth be told- and wearing makeup and tiny underwear and skirts that reveal too much leg really isn't that bad. In fact, it's pretty good...

And then there's Keith. Could I bear to tear myself away from him? Or worse, could I bear to watch him and Charlotte be together day in and day out?

As I look into Charlotte's eyes, I can tell which way she'd prefer my decision to go. But this is the same girl who kidnapped me, transformed me against my will... Can I trust her?

I stride over to the mirror and stare at the pretty girl- Jamie-Lee- staring back at me. She is a looker. Underneath it all is just another boy. Sure, an obscenely rich boy, but a boy nonetheless. The girl will always be a mask, but a damned convincing one. I drop my dressing gown- standing now in just a tiny satin nightie- cup the breasts hanging off my chest and sigh. I don't have to be a girl if I don't want to be. I don't have to be a boy if I don't want to be. But I have to be one of them. Which one do I want to be more?

"I've made my decision," I announce to an expectant Charlotte...

THE FOLLOWING DAY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So," I reply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Friends," he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"About 8:35," I reply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What about Ricky?" I ask.

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

"Is Charlotte not dancing anymore?" I enquire.

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

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

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

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

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

"Okay," I nonchalantly agree.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Deal!" I nod eagerly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

A gentle knock on my door wakes me from my slumber. With bleary eyes, I stare over at my alarm clock- 8:05am.

"I'm good, thanks," I yell through the door. Getting up before 10am on a cold December Sunday morning? I don't think so.

"Okay," Charlotte replies, leaving me in peace. I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling for a bit before swinging my soft, hairless legs out of bed and padding over to my bathroom. I stare at my cute reflection in the mirror and smile. Over the last eight months, my life has had its ups and downs, but there have been far more of the former than the latter.

I've become one of Joshua's busiest models, travelling all over London doing all number of shoots and quickly earning a reputation for being hard-working and dependable. I worked out the other day that I've earned at least  £16 000 from modelling since I started- and whilst I've spent basically all of it (and a bit of my  £250 000 fortune as well), I can smile at the knowledge that my income will only increase, the more experience I get. It's a good job too, as my wardrobe has almost doubled over the last year, and my shoe collection has trebled! I also now have more jewellery, cosmetics and accessories than I'll ever need, and I even rival Charlotte in that regard. We've also switched rooms, as we said we would- and after redecorating in the summer, I can finally say I have a bedroom that is 100% Jamie-Lee's.

My modelling jobs have been quite varied- at least three-quarters were basic fashion- dresses, skirts, suits, trousers (which I'm still strangely uncomfortable in). Then I've also done shoes (apparently I have beautiful feet), lingerie, make-up, swimwear, fancy dress, a couple of dancewear shoots, a couple of bridal wear shoots, one shoot for a PVC clothing company which I instantly regretted (the thick gothic makeup was fun but the PVC leotard they had me wear might actually be in violation of the Geneva Convention) and plenty of hair and make-up shoots. I've done a couple of trade shows too, but I tend to steer clear of those after one show in the summer where I spent all day wearing a bright pink wig and a miniskirt, crop top, elbow-length gloves and go-go boots all made out of orange vinyl. Definitely one of the most surreal experiences of my life. The bridal shoots are my favourites though. I get to spend all day dressed up as a princess trying on dozens of beautiful dresses, not to mention the sexy lingerie (yes, even the corsets), jewellery, accessories (I've kept four pairs of bicep-length satin gloves I'll never wear!), beautiful make-up... I'm always asking Joshua if he can get me more of this type of work!

I've grown my hair over the last eight months so it's now shoulder-length. I briefly went brunette a couple of months ago but quickly reverted back to blonde. It's true what they say- we really do have more fun! My face has also changed. I've had what little facial hair I've had removed via electrolysis, and the hormones I've been taking have actually made my face more feminine. I have (admittedly quite small) dimples now!

The rest of my body has fundamentally changed. My skin is now a lot softer and smoother. My waist has narrowed (a diet and a quick dalliance with shape wear helped here too) whilst my hips and backside have widened- fortunately not enough to put me up a dress size, given how much I spend on clothes! My genitals have considerably shrunk- they weren't particularly big to begin with- and are now effectively non-functional with all the hormones I've been taking. I had minor surgery on my voice box (and had what little Adam's Apple I had shrunk down to invisible size) in June after developing a nodule on it from talking with my feminine voice for so long. Now, I no longer need to put on a girly voice- I have one naturally! Of course, Charlotte mercilessly teased me during my recovery after I was left unable to speak for days on end- and when my voice did return, it was a little different than it was before- but I made sure I gave as good as I got, voice or no voice!

And then, there are my breasts. Over the course of several months they gradually swelled from my original (the word 'normal' would be inappropriate here) flat chest to somewhere between an AA and an A cup. However, they also became extremely sensitive, meaning the theatrical glue used to attach the breast forms to my chest quickly became unbearable. After a few weeks of using special padded bras, two and a half weeks ago I took the plunge and went under the knife. I am now the proud owner of a pair of perky C-cup breasts that are all mine. Of course, I still have the scars to look forward to, but the same website that sold me the glue also sells special make-up to help cover it up. And it just feels so good to have breasts of my own. I can go out now and wear low-cut tops, bikinis, strapless dresses without fear of any 'peeling' incidents. Okay, I don't wear many of those clothes in December, but Charlotte's promised me a week-long break in Australia at the end of January, and I just can't wait!

I've also taken the time to expand myself as a person, not just as a woman. Despite Charlotte's teasing, I enrolled on several adult learning courses at my local college. I've got the GCSEs I wanted so badly- after just six months, too- and am currently studying IT and administration two nights a week. I'm even taking driving lessons. And, of course, I still study ballet- harder than ever in fact, even practising in my spare time since graduating onto pointe shoes last week- and Ellen's offered to teach me other forms of dance too, such as jazz, tap and modern. Once I perform adequately in a ballet recital, of course! I've also taken up blogging- my website gets almost 100 hits a day! For obvious reasons, though, I leave my 'status' out of it. I've not yet had one person comment on the photos on my blog and ask 'were you born a boy?' or similar.

And I've finally got some acting work! Admittedly it is just work as an extra, but I've been in the background of several episodes of EastEnders and spent a couple of weeks up in Scotland filming the latest series of Waterloo Road- spending the whole of the summer in school uniform was just unreally strange!

I turned 20 in September, which Charlotte insisted on celebrating with a 'schoolgirl' theme (largely because of my new-found acting career). Charlotte had originally wanted a 'Black Swan' theme- and had bought the costumes for it- but as I wasn't en pointe yet (and would be the only girl there who wasn't), she decided at the last minute to go with the schoolgirl theme instead. The two of us- and six of our closest girl friends (mostly met through modelling)- hit seemingly every nightclub in London. If was possibly the best night out I've ever had- topped off, naturally, by Charlotte having me dance- in my school uniform (under which I wore a really tight corset) and 7" stripper-style platform sandals- up on a podium with a 6' 6" male stripper who seemed to be made out of solid wood. I have to admit, it was so much fun, even if I did cringe at the photos Charlotte put on Facebook the following day!

It's a good job I have all these distractions and friends to keep me occupied, as my love life has been... well, it's not been great. I never did get a call from Andrew- Ricky, however, was eager to meet up with me. We went out for about five weeks- even resulting in an update of my Facebook status- but the lack of sex was off-putting for both of us. Aside from a half-drunken blowjob at Charlotte's 20th in May there really wasn't any sexual contact between us. I only really got away with the blowjob as Charlotte's party had a 'playboy bunny' theme and the leotard and corset I was wearing basically prevented anything else (it- and the fact I needed to keep his hands away from my boobs- also meant I didn't drink much that night. Except, well, you know). I dunno what it is about Charlotte's parties that we always end up wearing leotards, corsets or both. It got especially ridiculous at the Royal Wedding party when everyone went wearing wedding dresses- including Ricky and Keith, hilariously!- and Charlotte's dress was little more than a white corset with some fringing pretending to be a skirt. I guess when you look like Charlotte- or me- you have to flaunt it. Anyway, Ricky and I separated amicably a week later and over the summer I started dating a student named Michael who I met up in Scotland. That, however, went much the same way (only this time, I sucked his penis twice. Yeah, so I like the taste. Sue me) though I at least had the 'long-distance relationship' excuse. I've even entertained the thought of dating girls- and have flirted with a few at nightclubs- but I am what I am, and that is a 100% straight woman. So I'm currently single, sexy and frustrated. The doctors tell me it'll be at least two years from now before I can have the surgery to create female genitals, and another six months after that before I'll be able to have sex. I don't want to wait two and a half years! I've even considered offering up anal sex- and briefly used some 'specialist equipment' ordered off the internet to help 'loosen me up', but even that would raise too many questions as to why regular sex is off the table ('why is your vagina made of latex?' being top of that list). So on nights out I either hang out with my girls or sit in the corner, alone and unwanted. Fortunately, Charlotte's always on hand to help cheer me up!

Ah yes, Charlotte. She's been even busier than I have. What she said about Spencer & Hall making models into their own brands wasn't an exaggeration. Since signing for them, Charlotte has modelled on four different continents (five after this January), earned- by her calculations- over a quarter of a million pounds (the significance of that amount is not lost on me) and has been featured in articles in newspapers, magazines, the internet- she even has her own Wikipedia page! Despite her rise to fame though, she is still the lonely orphan who needed me all that time ago. Over the last eight months, we truly have become BFFs. When she's not jetting around the world being a supermodel we go everywhere together, swapping stories, clothes, make-up- we share absolutely everything. Except one thing. Keith.

Keith now virtually lives with Charlotte- and, I suppose, me- only going back up north when he's studying. Whenever he's around I am the third wheel, and I've come to accept that, I really have- I do have other friends, after all. It's just- me and him have become closer as well over the last eight months (though it is hard not to be close to someone you once deep-throated). Whenever Keith and Charlotte argue (which is more often than you might think), I often find myself fielding calls from the both of them and almost always have to play the role of peacemaker. He opens up to me about his worries at university and is always on hand to lend a sympathetic ear whenever life gets me down. And with the hormones I'm taking, that can be quite often. I'm still madly in love with him- which, fortunately, he and Charlotte are both oblivious too- and every day I spend around him I just want him more. He's the only person I've ever really been able to open up to. Sure, he can be a bit oblivious at time, but I know inside he has a heart of gold. I really don't know what he sees in Charlotte- okay, other than her being a supermodel- as dearly as I love them both, his sweet nature and her dominating personality are such polar opposites it's just unreal sometimes.

So, that's life. It's Christmas in seven days- I've got expensive surprises lined up for both Keith and Charlotte (appropriate ones, of course). Work's dried up a little so I have the next week entirely free (but I'm working every day of the first week in January), during which I intend to make my first Christmas as Jamie-Lee the best Christmas anyone anywhere has ever had!

First off though, I begin my day as every day for the past eight months has begun. I take a shower- it's so good to feel the warm water on my bare breasts- swallow my hormone pills and apply my make-up. Over the months my 'style' has definitely developed from 'slouchy college chick' to 'chic fashion model'. No more hoodies and denim skirts for me- not when I go out, anyway! I've taken a lot of tips from Charlotte and am now loads more feminine in appearance and demeanour than the more androgynous girl I was before. Glittery eye shadow and hot pink lipstick complement my thick eyeliner and mascara, not to mention the deep red polish on my fingers and toes. I step into a clean vagina panty and secure it to my body. The more my penis shrinks, the less I really need this, but I want to project a 100% feminine appearance at all times, even if the thing I'm projecting can't be seen! Charlotte did eventually get me a few more of these, so I have five that I rotate on a daily basis. Well I say five, but in typical Charlotte fashion, one of them had been vajazzled. It didn't stop me from (occasionally) wearing it, though! I select a matching lacy bra and thong set and slowly slip them on, loving the still- new sensation of my nipples touching the soft lining of the bra and the familiar sensation of the thong slowly slipping between my buttocks. I've developed a new appreciation for bras ever since getting my implants- before, they were just 'there'- garments that pulled on my shoulders and back- but now the support they offer is invaluable. Sure, they still pull on my shoulders and back, but they now cushion my boobs as well and keep me comfortable throughout the day no matter what I'm doing. I pull a camisole over my head- it's December, it's cold- and head over to my wardrobe.

My outfit for the day is a tight black miniskirt with a very tight red turtleneck sweater that shows off my new figure beautifully. After putting on my jewellery (including a new pair of silver earrings), a pair of sheer black tights and a pair of 5" stilettos ready when me and Charlotte head out for lunch later (I don't have to wear them now, but I've grown to love walking in high heels. And being 5' 10"!), I head down to the kitchen for breakfast.

I flick through the newspapers to see if Charlotte's in any of them, or any of the magazines. She isn't this time, but it's to be expected in the run-up to Christmas. I while away the time looking through the fashion editorials in the magazines before Charlotte and Keith arrive home just after 11.

"Hey!" I say enthusiastically, greeting my BFF with a hug. She's wearing one of her usual church dresses- knee-length, form-fitting and very elegant. It's in a dark purple with matching 5" stilettos, black tights and black leather gloves. I make a mental note to try the look out sometime.

"Hey Jay," Charlotte replies, using my new nickname. We sit down next to each other at the kitchen table as Keith puts the coats away. "I like the look, by the way- isn't that one of my sweaters?" I smirk at Charlotte.

"Nope," I say with a smug grin. "All mine." Charlotte simply pouts, and then beams an evil grin at me.

"Then I guess I'm going to have to go shopping tomorrow!" The young supermodel confidently announces.

"Excuse me," I say boldly, holding up a finger, "don't you mean WE'RE going to have to go shopping tomorrow?" Charlotte does her best to maintain a straight face.

"My mistake," she says stoically, before we both collapse into a fit of giggles. Naturally, Keith chooses this exact moment to walk in on us- which just makes us giggle even more!

"What?" Keith asks, perplexed by the two hysterical girls in front of him.

"Oh relax," I say, rolling my eyes, "we weren't laughing at you!" I turn to face Charlotte again, and once again, the giggles return. Nine months ago, this sort of behaviour would have irritated the hell out of me. Now, though, I just can't get enough of it!

"Are you going to get changed, babe?" Keith asks Charlotte and I try not to show any emotion at his use of 'babe', no matter how much I might want him to direct that word toward me.

"In a bit," Charlotte replies. "Got plenty of time before the taxi arrives." Keith looks awkwardly in my direction.

"Yeah," he says uneasily, "but I thought you and I could- thought maybe I could, you know, give you a hand?" Charlotte mouths a silent 'oh' as she catches on to what Keith was implying.

"I'll be right back, Jay," Charlotte says, sashaying away from the table. "Just need to, you know, 'change'." I sigh and roll my eyes, prompting a giggle from Charlotte as she links hands with Keith and heads up to her bedroom. So, once again, I'm left on my own with my thoughts. And the only thing I can think right now is 'I wish he was with me and not her'.

Sure enough, Charlotte doesn't re-emerge until five minutes before we're due to leave. She's wearing a tight little black dress with long sleeves, lighter tights than previously and, of course, 6" stilettos. In stocking feet, we're the same height, but she has this obsessive 'King of Siam' thing that she always has to have her head higher than mine, even if it's just by an inch. We grab our expensive designer coats and handbags and head out of the front door.

Out meeting- well, informal lunch really, hence why it's being held on a Sunday- is with a producer from a TV company. Charlotte's rise to fame has been meteoric, and the world- particularly those who regularly watch ITV2- have noticed. The posh bistro Charlotte chose for the lunch is right in the centre of London, so naturally as we step out of the taxi there are paparazzi waiting for us. Charlotte flashes a few sultry smiles for the camera, but I keep my distance. Sure, my whole career depends on people taking photographs of me, but- compared to Charlotte, anyway- I'm a nobody. I've been out with Charlotte loads of times when she's been snapped by the press, but I've never been in any of the photos. Though I will admit this is at least partly a conscious decision- having a popular blog and YouTube channel is one thing, but having your photo in a national newspaper is just inviting people to point out 'hey, that's not a woman'. Still though, a part of me does yearn for the limelight...

We step inside the bistro and Charlotte strides up the TV producer, air-kissing him like she's known him his whole life despite the fact they'd only ever communicated by email or phone. He politely shakes my hand- no air kisses for me- before sitting down and talking business with Charlotte.

At no point during the 55-minute conversation does my involvement in Charlotte's life come under discussion. Sure, I offer comments- which are quickly moved past- but whilst Keith, Charlotte's father, even Joshua are mentioned, I'm not. Even if she doesn't want to mention the way Charlotte became a millionaire supermodel- which I fully understand if she doesn't- I'd kinda thought that having lived with the girl for eight months, supporting her every step of the way would be enough for a few seconds of the pre-interview informal chat. As we exit the bistro into our waiting taxi, I can't help but feel like more of an accessory than a friend, let alone a BFF. Much to my surprise, the usually not-that-sensitive Charlotte picks up on this after I fasten my seatbelt and cross my arms and my legs, pouting out the window.

"Jay," she begins softly, sensing my unhappiness, "is everything alright?"

"I dunno, is everything alright?" I ask back snidely. After being around her for eight months, some of Charlotte was eventually going to rub off on me. "If I vanished tomorrow, would you even notice?"

"How can you even ask that?" Charlotte asks indignantly. "You're my best friend, the closest friend I've ever had, of course I'd notice! What the hell's brought this on all of a sudden?" I simply shake my head, embarrassed at my outburst.

"I dunno, I'm sorry, I just-" I begin, struggling to find the best way to express my feelings. "I mean, I'm so happy for your success, I really am, it's just- oh god, this is gonna sound so lame- it's just, I can't help but feel a little, you know, small." Charlotte laughs, but kindly, and I just feel even smaller.

"Oh Jay," Charlotte says, placing a comforting hand on my arm, "is that really it? The green-eyed monster?"

"No," I lie, "I don't want to be as famous as you are," yet... "I just- I dunno, I just want my fair share, y'know?"

"I'm sorry," Charlotte says with confusion, "you think I'm holding you back somehow?" I turn back to face my friend with an apologetic look of my own on my face.

"No, of course not-" I begin before being interrupted.

"Because believe me," Charlotte continues, authoritatively, "you've done a lot more in these last eight months than I did in my first eight months modelling. Sure, I was 14, you're 20, but you've become professional almost overnight. Don't forget the part I played in that." Charlotte stares at me for a few seconds before a look of horror spreads across my face.

"Oh, my, god," Charlotte says, staring straight ahead, hands clasped to her mouth with a thousand-yard stare on her face. "Oh my god Jay, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

"Charlotte?" I ask with genuine concern for my friend. "Are you okay?"

"I'm turning into my dad," she whispers, before we both collapse into a fit of giggles together.

"I doubt it," I say through the laughter, "he doesn't look as good in heels!" Charlotte literally cries with laughter and I follow immediately behind her. Once we've settled down, the atmosphere in the taxi is noticeably less tense.

"So what is it really, Jay?" Charlotte candidly asks me. I simply smile and shake my head.

"It's not just jealousy," I explain openly. "Partly, but not fully. You're the big star and I just feel like a hanger-on. I mean in there, almost an hour with me sat right there, my name doesn't come up once."

"I thought that was what you wanted," Charlotte confesses, genuinely shocked by my revelation. "I left you out because I thought you didn't want the publicity because of, well, y'know."

"I guess I thought that too," I confess, opening my heart to my best friend. "But I figure now, after everything that's happened the last eight months... This is a path I'm committed to. So what if people find out about my past? That's unimportant. It's my future that's most important." Charlotte beams a wide grin.

"At the risk of sounding more like my father, I'm proud of you," she says as I reciprocate her warm smile. "And if you want to be in the documentary, then you shall be. I'll make sure it happens, you have my word on that. There's just one thing that I'm kinda concerned about..." Charlotte pauses for a second, and I immediately catch on to what she's thinking.

"My parents?" I ask, my heart immediately fluttering with nerves at the mere thought of the people who raised me.

"Yeah," Charlotte says, herself nervous at the idea. "I always assumed that was why you always stayed out of the limelight, that someone might recognise you?" For someone who on the outside is a bimbo supermodel, Charlotte's a lot smarter than she lets on.

"As I said, that's all in the past," I state firmly. "I am who I am, not who I was." A few minutes later, the taxi drops us home and we step out and into the warmth of the house. Unsurprisingly, Keith's there waiting for us- or rather, waiting for Charlotte, whom he greets with a long, deep kiss, the likes of which I can only reminisce about. As he hangs up our coats, Charlotte continues our earlier conversation.

"I thought your shrink recommended that you go speak to your parents months ago?" She asks as I squirm.

"Well, yeah," I say awkwardly. "I mean, she definitely recommended that I go see them..."

"And, of course, you knew better?" Charlotte says, folding her arms.

"Yes," I reply, still feeling awkward at the grilling I'm getting. Charlotte simply rolls her eyes.

"This is something you need to do, Jay," Charlotte says with a sigh as we head up toward my room.

"But why?" I ask desperately. "They haven't seen me in over three years. We don't even exchange Christmas cards. I've said it before and I'll say it again. They're a part of my past. All I care about is my future." I open the door to my room and step inside, preventing Charlotte from following me. "End of story." I close the door in her concerned face, though a part of me is forced to admit she's right. The past eight months have been like a dream, a fantasy. I frequently find myself asking if any of it is real. Sometimes, even, parts of my past life burst through and I find myself almost horrified by how much of a girl I've become. Those moments, however, are few and far between and getting ever scarcer. Becoming a girl truly is the best thing that ever happened to me.

And yet, as I change out of my chic clothes into a slouchy pink hoodie and denim miniskirt (I still wear them... but only on the sofa!) I can't help but reminisce about the life I had. Not the three years as James the loser, but the years before, when I was in school, had a family... A part of me, a very big part of me wants that again. To go back and be accepted as their child. As I gently caress the stretched skin over my breasts, though, I know I can never have it exactly the way it was before. My parents were barely tolerant of James right up to the point they kicked me out- what will they say to Jamie-Lee suddenly turning up on their doorstep?

The rest of the day passes without the topic coming up again. Me, Charlotte and Keith crash on the sofa, watching TV and a couple of DVDs and occasionally updating Facebook and twitter. At about 11pm, Keith heads off to bed (university has finished for the year so he's staying in London until he has to go back to Sheffield in mid-January) leaving me and Charlotte to pick up our conversation from earlier.

"I'm sorry if I slammed the door in your face earlier," I concede to Charlotte.

"No, no," she says, equally apologetic, "I shouldn't have pressed the matter. I mean, it's not like I've seen my father since... since Jamie-Lee was born." This is true. In fact, it's the first time she's even mentioned her father since my life changed. "If you don't want to see your parents, you shouldn't let anyone force you. Not your shrink, and certainly not me." I pause briefly whilst I take this in.

"What if I force myself to see them?" I ask quietly. Charlotte holds her hands to her mouth, deep in thought over how to answer me.

"You'd need to make sure it was something you truly, truly wanted," she says quietly.

"Would you come with me?" I ask, trying desperately not to sound like a pathetic child asking an impossible favour from an older sibling. Fortunately, Charlotte simply smiles.

"Of course I will, you know you don't need to ask!" Charlotte and I exchange a brief hug.

"Thank you," I whisper, beginning to shake slightly at the thought of revealing myself- Jamie-Lee- to the people who made, well, James. "I'll call Doctor Phillips tomorrow, after ballet."

"After ballet AND shopping?" Charlotte corrects me.

"My bad," I say with a devilish grin, prompting yet another giggling fit from myself and Charlotte.

We both turn in not long afterwards, and I struggle to get to sleep as the weight of my decision to meet my parents again suddenly begins to dawn on me...

My iPhone's alarm wakes me up at 8:45am and after showering, taking my pills, ensuring everything about my look is perfect (including razoring off a couple of stray leg hairs) and slipping into my most comfortable bra & thong set, I pull on a dressing gown and head downstairs for breakfast. I keep quiet whilst Charlotte talks about our day ahead- shopping later is going to include preparations for our Christmas party- but I can tell by the glances we exchange that she's concerned about me.

Fortunately, Ellen arrives half an hour after breakfast to begin our ballet lesson, and suddenly I feel a lot calmer having my other confidante with me. After checking that my pink tights and my blue spaghetti-strapped leotard are smooth (yes, including 'down there') and wrinkle-free (not hard as leotards are the only clothes to have got tighter following my body's change), that my hair is tied up into a perfect bun (despite being a private tutor, Ellen is an absolute stickler for protocol) and that my pointe shoes are attached properly and securely, I head over to the barre with Charlotte to begin our warm-up exercises. Almost immediately as I do, however, Ellen can sense something's amiss.

"Am I going to have to remind you to concentrate throughout the whole 90 minutes?" Ellen teases as I run through my plies.

"I'll do my best," I say as I dip down low, trying my best to focus on the dancing.

"Oh I know you will," Ellen says in a stern yet friendly manner, "I just need to know if something's bothering you, that's all."

"It's a biggie," Charlotte blabs from her end of the bar, having finished her plies and begun her stretches. I roll my eyes- which Charlotte and Ellen can both clearly see in the studio's mirror- and begin my own stretches.

"Oh god," Ellen says with disappointment in her voice, "more boy trouble? By which I mean, have you dumped yet ANOTHER guy?"

"I've only had two boyfriends in the last eight months," I say aloud, immediately cringing as I realise what I said (and at Charlotte's snort of laughter). "And no, it's not about that." I wait for Charlotte to interject, but despite her snort of laughter, even she is sensitive enough to remain silent. "It's about my parents." Ellen immediately senses what I mean by this.

"You've decided to go and meet them," she states quietly. "Okay, come and sit in the centre." Me and Charlotte dutifully obey, sitting down in the centre of the floor cross-legged.

"It's your last lesson of the year, we can afford a bit of time out," Ellen states, sitting down with us.

"I take it they wouldn't be too understanding if you showed up out of the blue the way you are," my teacher says, at which I quietly nod.

"They're pretty old-fashioned," I confirm. "Dad in particular is really homophobic. And racist, for that matter. He's not, you know, a hooligan, but he's not shy about voicing his opinions. He'd likely just call me 'Julian Clary' and kick me out immediately."

"What about your mum?" Ellen asks cautiously.

"She'd-" I pause, looking down and trying hard not to cry. "I don't know. I'd like to think she'd love me no matter what, but with Dad- I just don't know!" At this, the tears start freely flowing. Charlotte is instantly at my side, hugging me and letting me cry myself out on her shoulder.

"You want a family," Charlotte says softly. "We all do..."

"It's not like we were particularly close beforehand," I croak, having finally calmed down. "Mum and dad both worked, they never had any time for me. Then they decided I wasn't meeting their standards so they kicked me out, like I was their underperforming employee rather than their underperforming so-" I pause before completing that word.

"I'm finished for Christmas after today," Ellen announces. "If you do decide to go and meet them obviously I'll go with you." I smile and almost begin crying again, tears of gratitude.

"Thank you," I whisper.

"Now," Ellen announces firmly, standing up, "you girls aren't paying me to chat, you're paying me to teach. I want to see what you've learned." I beam a broad grin and get to my feet as well, heading over to the barre to impress Ellen with the numerous steps I'd learned over the past eight months.

For the last half-hour of the lesson, Ellen gives me and Charlotte a special 'Christmas treat', allowing us to change into the costumes we'd had made for our upcoming recital in May. They're absolutely gorgeous- I'm wearing a pink tulle tutu that sticks out at least eight inches from my laced-in waist. The shoulders are big and puffy, the bodice is covered in pink silk roses, and the panty section is covered in layers of frivolous ruffles. With my tiara, sparkling earrings and shiny satin pointe shoes, I look and feel just like a princess as I pose in various ballet steps whilst Charlotte and Ellen photograph me for my blog.

I have a renewed confidence about me as Charlotte and I wave Ellen off (still wearing our tutus despite her protestations!) at the end of the lesson. I'm no longer nervous about what my family might say about me when I have a true family at home.

"Okay," Keith says, catching sight of Charlotte and myself heading indoors in our costume. "You two look, well, um,"

"Lovely?" I ask, trying not to laugh at Keith's squirming.

"Gorgeous?" Charlotte asks cheekily.

"Yeah, those," Keith says, hastily back-pedalling. Naturally, Charlotte and I lose the ability to keep straight faces and collapse into a fit of giggles. We soon sober up though, as a taxi is picking us up in half an hour for something far more important- shopping! We both quickly change- Charlotte into a black, knee-length pencil skirt (and killer heels, naturally), me into a tight black top (baring some cleavage, naturally) and a tartan miniskirt with shiny black tights underneath. And 4" heeled bootees, of course. After making a quick phone call to my shrink to set up an appointment for this afternoon, we jump into our waiting taxi and drive away.

Charlotte and I meet up with two of our modelling friends- Kristie and Mary- at a coffee shop and after a couple of drinks, head into the city centre to begin our shopping spree. Most of it is spent picking up our costumes and other essentials for our Christmas party on Thursday. Charlotte's gone for a 'Pan Am' theme, having quickly developed an obsession with that show, so the four of us have all had matching blue skirt suits made, complete with gloves, hats, 5" black leather heels and authentic-looking bags. Charlotte and I even have authentic sixties underwear to wear underneath the suits- with all the discomfort that brings! Charlotte and I pick up a couple of new dresses each (one of mine being a very chic form-fitting LBD) before leaving Kristie and Mary, as it's time for the appointment I can't put off any longer.

"Hello Jamie, Charlotte," Dr. Phillips greets us as we enter her office and take a seat. "I take it from your phone call this morning you have something important you wanted to discuss with me?" I take a deep breath and vainly try to settle my nerves.

"Yes," I confirm. "Yes I do." I pause, nervously trying to put together the words I need to say in my head. "It's about my parents."

"I see," Dr. Phillips says understandingly (I really lucked out getting her as my shrink- she's patient, understanding, and most importantly, tolerant of all my little, well, 'quirks'). "I remember I recommended that you went to visit them months ago- just before your throat surgery, as I recall- can I take it from the fact that I've not heard any feedback that you haven't done this yet?" I nod, embarrassed at my behaviour.

"That's okay," Dr. Phillips reassures me. "Everybody transitions in their own time and at their own pace. But you know I can't reassure your surgeons that you've fully committed to this transition until you see them." I nod again, trying not to break down like I have so often done in this office.

"I just- I just don't want them to reject me," I blub, prompting Charlotte to grab my hand.

"You'll always be a part of MY family," my BFF reassures me, but it's not quite enough.

"I'm guessing the reason you've asked for this meeting is that you want me to act as a go-between?" Dr. Phillips enquires. I nod again, desperately trying to control my tears. "That's absolutely fine. You're hardly the first transgendered person I've had in this office who's requested that from me. Would you like me to make the call during this meeting?" I swallow and take a deep breath.

"I want you to make the call right now," I state, trying to make my shaky voice sound as confident as possible. "I don't want to let myself back out of it."

"Of course," Dr. Phillips says quietly. "I need to be reassured though that this is absolutely what you want."

"We're paying you by the hour," Charlotte interjects defensively, earning herself a brief death glare from me. "Yes it's what she wants!" Dr. Phillips simply smirks- this is only her fourth or fifth meeting with Charlotte but I've discussed her a lot in our meetings (obviously though in our version of things I volunteered rather than got kidnapped).

"I'm sure this is what I want," I state firmly, the tears having finally stopped. Dr. Phillips simply nods and dials the number I provided to her several months ago.

"Hello?" Dr. Phillips asks, and I take a nervous breath, prompting Charlotte to squeeze my hand even tighter. "Is that Mr Philip Travis?" Shit, she's talking to dad... I think to myself as I squeeze Charlotte's hand back.

"My name is Dr. Beverly Phillips," she continues. "I'm a psychiatrist, and your son, James-" Eight months on, that just gets weirder and weirder- "is one of my patients. I understand that you and he-" still weird- "have not spoken in some time?" Dr. Phillips pauses whilst my dad talks to her (though obviously I can't hear what he's saying).

"I see," Dr. Phillips says stoically. "Your son has asked me to contact you as he's changed a lot in the last few years-" both Charlotte and I giggle at this, despite ourselves- "and he's expressed a desire to see both you and your wife again. I understand that this is right out of the blue, but with Christmas looming, Jamie-" I grimace as Dr. Phillips makes this uncharacteristic slip-up, I was never called that growing up- "has told me that he really wants to make amends." Again, Dr. Phillips pauses whilst my father talks. "No, he isn't here at the moment-" perhaps not a TOTAL lie under the circumstances- "but I can certainly pass on a message and/or arrange a meeting." Dr. Phillips pauses again, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see her smile.

"On the contrary," the doctor states warmly. "James is in no trouble at all. I am aware of his past, but in the time I've known him he has progressed leaps and bounds. He has a career, is studying part-time at college and has several close friends, all of whom care about him very much." Dr. Phillips pauses again whilst my father talks, but I'm breathing a LOT easier now. "Okay Mr Travis, I'll pass on the message and get back to you. Thank you for your time." Immediately as Dr. Phillips hangs up the phone, I'm blurting out questions.

"What did he say?" I ask hurriedly. "Is he okay? Is mum okay? Was mum there? Did he agree to a meeting?"

"Jamie!" Charlotte yells, laughing at my over-enthusiasm. "Give her a chance to answer, for crying out loud!"

"I'm -I'm sorry," I say, clasping my hands over my mouth in embarrassment.

"It's okay, it really is," Dr. Phillips reassures me with a wide grin. "Your parents are both fine, they both miss you and would like to meet up with you again." I fan myself with my hands and take deep breaths as she continues. "Let me know when you're free, I'll get back in touch with them this afternoon and arrange a meeting."

"Thursday or Friday would be fine," Charlotte says on my behalf.

"Then it's settled," Dr. Phillips says as I sit back and try to take in what just happened. In three or four days, I'm going to be presenting my parents with their daughter for the very first time...

The rest of the meeting goes by in a blur. Dr. Phillips dispenses invaluable advice on how to deal with the meeting, my parents' inevitable shock, and the inevitable questions of 'why' and 'how'... Very little of it sinks in, though.

I'm quiet during the taxi ride home. Fortunately, if there's one thing Charlotte can do, better than anyone else, it's talk.

"Oh my god!" Charlotte exclaims as I sit back in silence. "I can't even begin to imagine what you must be feeling right now, you must be SO nervous! What are you going to say to them? More importantly, what are you going to wear?"

Charlotte's right- my heart is pounding, my mouth is dry and my hands are ice cold. I know they shouldn't be- as Charlotte said earlier, she'll always be there for me in a way my 'real' family haven't been for ages now. But they're still my parents, along with everything that entails.

I don't say a word on the way home other than the occasional 'yes' in agreement to Charlotte's enthusiasm. I'm quite happy to let her be excited for me. Once we're home- and Charlotte's flung herself mouth-first at Keith, of course- I quietly head into the kitchen and make myself a cup of tea. Finally sensing that something's wrong, Charlotte enters the kitchen and sits down next to me.

"Hey," she says, sensing my discomfort, "hey, are you alright, Jay?" I quietly nod, but Charlotte knows me better than anyone else and can immediately sense when I'm not okay.

"Back in the car," she says nervously, "I didn't- I didn't get TOO excited, did I? I just thought, you know, this is a big deal and all that, and I- I dunno, I can't even imagine what you're going through."

"Really, it's fine," I say, easing Charlotte's worries. "It's just- this is it. Either I'm going to have a family again or I'm going to effectively be an orphan."

"You'll never be an orphan," Charlotte says sternly. "Not as long as you have your sister with you." She grabs my hands again and squeezes it tight.

"Thank you," I whisper, glad to have warmed my hands on my tea. The tender moment is interrupted when Keith enters the room unannounced to see the two of us holding hands.

"Is every-" Keith begins, before being interrupted by Charlotte.

"Girl problems," my BFF says sternly. "Out." Keith simply nods and leaves. You'd be simply amazed how powerful the phrase 'girl problems' is and the control it gives you over men! Charlotte and I never ceased to be amazed by it, which is why, less than three seconds after Keith leaves, the two of us collapse into a fit of giggles.

"You're right," I say to Charlotte. "As long as I have you, as I long as I have this," and as long as I have Keith, I think to myself, "I'll never be alone."

I spend the rest of the night curled up on the sofa opposite Charlotte and Keith, watching TV and/or playing games on my phone. After briefly trying on my Pan Am costume to make sure the fit is perfect, I re-paint my nails a deep, almost black shade of crimson, slip into a comfy nightie and dive between my sheets, trying desperately to take my mind off of my impending family reunion...

I'm awake at 7:30am on Tuesday, but for reasons other than my upcoming family reunion. After showering, applying my most expensive make-up and eating breakfast, I head back up to my room and strip down to my lacy black bra & thong, mentally preparing myself for the day ahead. I begin by clipping a matching garter belt around my waist and rolling a pair of dark stockings up my legs, making sure they are straight and smooth all the way up. It took a while, but I discovered that what Charlotte said eight months ago was so true- stockings are much sexier than tights, and when you feel sexier, you feel more confident. Today, I needed all the confidence I could get.

I open my wardrobe and pick out my favourite suit. I quickly zip myself into the skirt- a short black pencil skirt that hugs my legs tightly- and don my most expensive satin blouse. After making sure my make-up was immaculate, I tie my long, blonde hair back into a professional-looking (but not too serious) ponytail, fasten a dainty gold necklace around my neck and a thin chain around my wrist. After spraying on my most expensive perfume, pulling on the fitted black peplum jacket, slipping my feet into a pair of 5" black leather stiletto pumps and grabbing my most expensive handbag, I look (and feel) ready to conquer the world.

The taxi picks me up at 8:20, ready to whisk me into central London for my appointment with my agent. Whereas Charlotte could just click her fingers and have Joshua come running, I have to wait in line just like everybody else. In fact, Joshua made it quite clear how big a favour he was doing me just agreeing to a meeting this close to Christmas. Naturally, I have no intention of squandering this opportunity.

"Jamie!" Joshua greets me with air kisses as I enter his office.

"Thanks for agreeing to meet with me," I say with genuine gratitude as I sit down, unconsciously straightening my skirt and crossing my right leg over my left.

"It was the least I could do for my hardest-working model!" Joshua beams as he sits down behind his desk. "I take it you came here to discuss your little project, yes?"

"Yep!" I enthuse, trying to sound as positive and as confident as I could. The 'pet project' Joshua was referring to was something I'd been working hard to promote for weeks in my spare time.

Many models- and Charlotte is no exception here- gain extra income from using their identity as a brand, and the quickest way to do this is usually to produce your own calendar. Even though I didn't have the mainstream exposure Charlotte had- well, I don't have any mainstream exposure at all- I decided I wanted a piece of the action. It wasn't hard to locate a website where you could upload your images and create your own calendar, so, using my own money, I hired out Joshua's studio and a photographer and set about creating 12 images that I'd hoped would be plastered over people's walls throughout 2012.

(By the way, I'm not stupid. I used to be a man, so I know precisely why men buy those calendars. That isn't the point.)

In total, including editing the photos, I spent around  £600. So far- as of December 20, 2011- I've sold a grand total of 83 of them, all through the website. Given I've had to do 100% of the promotion and advertising myself, it's not a terrible total, but I can't help but look at the thousands upon thousands that Charlotte's sold...

"I've had a look at it," Joshua said, producing a copy of the calendar and flicking through it. "It's certainly well-produced, and the girl in the photos is very pretty!" I blush a little as Joshua compliments me, but his next words bring me crashing back down to Earth. "I'm sorry Jamie, as good as it is, it's a lot of money to invest to supply it to retailers. Especially as you've told me you've not broken even on website sales yet." With nothing to lose, I play my trump card in the hope that Joshua will change his mind.

"Charlotte's been in touch with a producer from ITV2," I explain. "They're interested in producing a documentary about her rise to fame."

"...And you reckon you can use it to raise your own profile?" Joshua asks, at which I nod in response. "Great idea. Any way you can raise your own profile is worth doing, but until that happens, I can't give you any more time and money. I'm sorry, I really am." Joshua leans forward on his desk, a sad look on his face.

"Jamie," he says softly, "you're my hardest-working model, and if you promise not to tell any of the other guys or girls- you're my favourite too. But I have to do what's in the business's best interests. Don't give up hope. Go away, produce your 2013 calendar- I'm happy to give you mate's rates on the studio again- and come back to me after Charlotte's show has aired."

"Okay," I say positively, forcing a smile on my face. "I will!"

"That's the spirit!" Joshua beams with his trademark brilliant smile.

I leave the office with a smile on my face but it evaporates quickly. This is a major setback- I've been signed with Joshua for eight months but it feels like I've stood still. In an attempt to cheer myself up, I call up Kristie with the promise of lunch and shopping. Obviously, Charlotte would normally be my first choice, but she told me this morning that under no circumstances was she to be disturbed. Charming.

"Hey Jamie!" Kristie greets me with a hug as we step into the coffee shop. "So, how'd the big meeting go?" I grimace as I sit down- enough of a response for Kristie to infer how it went.

"That bad, huh?" She asks.

"Could've been worse," I concede, "at least he didn't fire me." Kristie beams a sympathetic smile as she gestures over one of the waitresses.

"We all get setbacks," she explains. "You know by now how I rise above mine, right?" I grin wickedly as the waitress sets down a plate in front of me- on which is a large, gooey slice of chocolate tort.

"I love your outlook on life," I beam as I tuck into my treat. "Though was it that obvious I was gonna fail?"

"Hell no," Kristie retorts reassuringly, "that was meant to be a congratulatory tort!" I smile gratefully as Kristie continues talking. "I just got back from a long, boring swimwear shoot. Ugh, I hate the way one-pieces look on me."

"I dunno," I say reassuringly, "they wouldn't use your pics if they looked bad, surely?"

"Yeah, I tell myself that," Kristie replies. "Doesn't really help though." The difference between Kristie and Charlotte is enormous, as you might have been able to tell. Would Charlotte ever have confessed something like that? No chance.

"You know," I say with a crafty smile on my face, "I reckon that I make my 2013 calendar with not one, but two girls featured in it, it'd get more sales?"

"Umm, I'm not represented by your agent?" Kristie retorts. "I mean, I'd love to, but... it just wouldn't be appropriate."

"Yeah, well, Joshua's not interested in my calendar," I reply, "it's my project, and I decide who will and won't be in it." Kristie beams a wide grin and offers me her hand, which I gladly shake.

"You got a deal, partner!" She exclaims enthusiastically.

We spend about another 5 minutes discussing the calendar before the rest of the lunch turns into a good old-fashioned gossip session. Naturally, Charlotte is the main topic for most of it. After a very brief shopping session- I only pick up a new skirt and a pair of stilettos- I head home and eagerly strip out of my suit, unclipping my stockings and garter belt and rolling a comfortable, warm pair of ribbed black tights up my legs. After pulling on a pleated denim miniskirt, a clingy black long-sleeved top and of course a pair of my beloved Ugg boots, I head downstairs to see Charlotte cuddled up by herself on the sofa, wearing just a sweater and a knee-length grey skirt with what looks like opaque red tights underneath.

"Oh, hey Jay," Charlotte greets me half-heartedly, as if her mind is somewhere else.

"Hey," I reply, snuggling into the adjacent sofa. "No Keith tonight?"

"He's off in town with some of his old school friends," Charlotte explains. "Boy's night out. I'm sure you remember them?" Fortunately I know Charlotte well enough to know when she's just teasing me about my 'situation'.

"No, not really," I confess. "Even if I did, I doubt a boy's night out is as much fun as a girl's night in!" Charlotte grins and snuggles deeper into her chair.

"Have you decided yet what you're wearing tomorrow?" She asks me. Tomorrow is, of course, the first day of filming, so it'll probably be the most important outfit I wear all year.

"I've got a couple of ideas," I say. "I haven't worn that expensive leather skirt of mine yet, probably that and a pair of boots." Charlotte nods her approval. "What are you wearing?" Charlotte grins wickedly and stands up before me. I'm surprised- her sweater and skirt are both tight and sexy but they're a little... subdued for Charlotte. Very soon, though, everything becomes clear as Charlotte steps out of the skirt and sweater to reveal that what I thought was a pair of red tights was actually a skin-tight- very skin-tight- red unitard. Charlotte retrieves a pair of 6" red stilettos from under the sofa and stands before me in her... bizarre outfit.

"Wow." I say, dumbstruck. "It's... red..." Charlotte beams a wide grin through her suddenly overtly red lips.

"I knew you'd love it!" She exclaims, skipping over to me and giving me a quick hug. I have to fidget not to get impaled by the inch-long scarlet extensions she's had glued to her nails. "The whole Lady Gaga look is in," Charlotte explains. "Eccentric is the new sexy, and as I'm the sexiest person in the world right now, I have to keep up appearances, y'know?"

"Uh-huh..." I answer, still shocked by the sheer redness of her outfit.

"Oh, don't worry," Charlotte says with a grin, "I've got one for you as well. You'll have to wait until Christmas for it, though!" I try to stifle a shiver as my BFF lets this slip.

"Great!" I feign excitement as I try to draw my eyes away from Charlotte. I can wear even my tightest dance leotard without any discomfort or anything (if you know what I mean) showing but this... thing looks like it'll be a torture test simply getting into it.

Fortunately, Charlotte's enthusiasm dies down after a while and she slips out of her shoes, putting her skirt and sweater back on and snuggling back into the sofa.

"I got a call from the producers today," she says quietly. "They want me to meet my father. You know, for the documentary." I nod understandingly- I had guessed this might be coming.

"What did you say?" I ask softly.

"I told them I'd think about it," Charlotte confesses, her top lip wobbling with emotion. I can tell my BFF services are going to be needed very soon.

"I don't know, Jay," Charlotte continues. "I mean, he killed my mum, I don't ever want to see him again, but he's still my dad- and- I-" by this point Charlotte completely breaks down sobbing. Of course, I offer my shoulder for her to cry on, just as she's done for me so many times over the last few months. I hold her for the next few minutes as she alternates between sobbing and talking about her father. I'm not at all surprised when she sits up, looks me in the eye and asks me her next question.

"Will you- will you come with me?" She asks, genuinely afraid that I would say no.

"Of course I will," I say, hugging Charlotte. "Hey, you're coming with me to meet my dad, right?"

"Well, yeah," she replies, "but this is big, you know, with the cameras and all..." Typical Charlotte... I think to myself.

"We're BFFs," I explain. "We do everything together. Everything." Charlotte beams a wide grin and nods. It's only when she's at her most vulnerable that I see how delicate Charlotte truly is, and that she truly values my friendship, as much as I value hers. Sure, her ego may be the size of the planet, but every time I've needed her, she's been there. How could I not offer her the same?

We stay up until 11pm watching TV, chatting and laughing and trying to take each other's minds off of our upcoming reunions. I'll admit I'm glad when Charlotte announces bedtime, and I can slip on a comfortable cotton nightie and climb between my sheets.

I'm less glad when Charlotte wakes me up at 7am the following morning, dragging me out of bed and demanding that I lace her into her tightest corset.

"Can't Keith do it?" I whine as Charlotte leads me by the hand back to her room, where Keith is fortunately nowhere to be found.

"No," Charlotte explains, "his job is taking it off at the end of the night." Should've guessed... I self-pityingly think to myself. "Besides, he never does it tight enough, he's afraid he'll hurt me, the big baby. You at least do it up tight."

Sure enough, five minutes later I'm lacing Charlotte into the black garment, a heavy overbust corset made out of shiny black satin with stiff boning. Her natural 26 inch waist is soon whittled down to 20 inches despite her gasped pleas for me to stop (which I know better than to heed). I can certainly sympathise with her 'plight', though- Charlotte only bought the corset after seeing me model it in a shoot in August and has only worn it twice before (and before you ask, yes I do own one myself).

"The line of the corset will show through that catsuit thing you're planning on wearing," I explain as Charlotte detaches the garters from the corset.

"I'm not wearing that," Charlotte explains. "It's too close to Christmas, red's a cliché." Charlotte rolls a pair of very thin tights up her legs and retrieves a scandalously short, tight black minidress from her wardrobe, stepping into it and letting me zip it shut for her. Once she's in her six and a half inch heels though, even I have to admit she is the sexiest thing I've seen in a long, long time. Even if her dress does bare the bottom of her buttocks with every step she takes. Once Charlotte has her most expensive jewellery on, she turns to me.

"Oh- my- god," I exclaim sincerely. "You will knock them senseless, you really will." Charlotte grins and hugs me excitedly.

"Okay, now let's get you into your corset," she says, bewildering me briefly.

"Um, I'm not wearing a corset?" I ask, already knowing how futile my argument will be.

"The camera adds 15 pounds to you," Charlotte explains. "Best to take 20 off now and get a head start, right?"

"I'll wear my black top and a red skirt instead," I plead as Charlotte drags me back to my room, moving surprisingly quickly in her monstrous heels.

"Nonsense," Charlotte dismisses my pleas. "The outfit you picked out with the white jumper is perfect and that leather skirt is stunning on you. You just need a little help with the waist, that's all. Don't worry, I know you can't wear an overbust corset yet, not until your boobs have healed, but I know for a fact you've got plenty of waist cinchers in your drawers. Now come on!" I open my mouth to plead but I know it's pointless. Sure enough, before too long I'm gasping and wincing as my waist is whittled down to a mere 22 inches by the boned contraption Charlotte has pulled tight against my waist.

I will admit though, with my tight jumper around my curvy chest and svelte waist, sexy tight skirt, sheer black stockings and knee-high boots on, I'm very nearly as sexy as Charlotte herself. Charlotte's grin as I walk out of my bedroom and do a twirl for her tells me that she clearly thinks the same- sexy enough to be associated with her, but not too sexy that I overshadow her. It's a look I've mastered over the last nine months.

"Ready?" Charlotte asks, grabbing my hand in hers. I grin and nod, and we head down the stairs, where Keith is already waiting. His jaw immediately drops as we reach the bottom of the staircase.

"Wow!" Keith enthuses, walking straight over to Charlotte, wrapping his arms around her and gently kissing her on the lips. "You might just be the most beautiful thing that ever existed." Charlotte simply smirks smugly and links her fingers with his as they head into the kitchen. Not a word is said by Keith to me as I follow the couple to the breakfast table.

Neither Charlotte nor I eat much for breakfast- both because of our nerves and the torture devices we've strapped ourselves into- and by the time the film crew arrive at 8:30am I'm an absolute bag of nerves- and much to my surprise, so is Charlotte.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod," she splutters as the doorbell rings and she hastily fans herself with her hands. "itsthemitsthemitsthemitsthem..." I take a deep breath to try to calm my nerves as Keith grips Charlotte's hands to try to stop them from shaking. Okay Jamie, I think to myself. Someone's got to answer the door, it may as well be you. Time to- well, not man up, I suppose, but maybe- okay, not grow a pair either, you've spent the last nine months trying to do the exact OPPOSITE of that. Time to- suck it up? It's as good a metaphor as any, I suppose.

"I'll get the door," I coolly announce, borrowing some of Charlotte's trademark swagger as I stride out of the kitchen towards the front door. Unsurprisingly, Charlotte comes barrelling out after me a few seconds later, almost falling over in her suicidal heels.

"I'LL get the door," Charlotte states firmly, regaining her usual composure. I smirk as Charlotte stares at me- her upset face at my perceived 'defiance' of her soon changes into a giggle as she realises what I did- and she gives me a quick squeeze before coolly opening the front door and theatrically welcoming the production crew into our home. As was arranged on Sunday, the cameras are already rolling as Charlotte introduces myself and Keith to the cameras and the production crew. I say 'hi' but that's really just about it- Charlotte enthusiastically babbles about what a great friend I've been to her over the last nine months- fortunately she's rehearsed her speech to death so I know she won't 'slip up' at any point.

The production crew only film about half an hour of footage in the entrance way before the director ushers the three of us into the lounge to outline the day's filming plan. There'll be a bit of just 'background' footage- the three of us watching TV, that sort of thing- a tour of the home and a bit of footage of Charlotte & myself out shopping. The director did say 'if you feel up to it' before that last part- but to be fair, he doesn't know either of us that well yet!

...Though after we arrive back from our shopping trip at 6 O’clock, both Charlotte and I are absolutely exhausted, even though neither of us bought more than a couple of things each. Charlotte's not showing her fatigue- she's still as elegant and regal (despite her hemline) as she was at the start of the day. I, however, have had to re-do my make-up five times in the last three hours to hide my tiredness, and if it wasn't for my damned corset, I'd probably be permanently slumped over. We met up with Kristie and Mary whilst out shopping, and they've come back to Charlotte's house with us for dinner (being thoughtfully prepared by Keith). Needless to say, all cameras are pointed at Charlotte when she swans in her front door to be greeted by Keith's passionate embrace.

"Mmm," Charlotte purrs as Keith holds her in his strong, masculine arms, "something smells AMAZING."

"I'm pretty sure that's you," Keith flirts as his hand strays onto Charlotte's backside. Kristie, Mary and I exchange knowing glances- we all acknowledge that Charlotte's the 'alpha female', but it gets a bit tiring at times, especially when she's been flaunting it all day in front of the camera. I'm thankful, though- the more I'm with the girls, the less flustered I get about tomorrow's reunion...

Fortunately, the camera crew leave after the relatively uneventful meal, as do Kristie and Mary, so whilst Keith does the washing-up- you didn't expect Charlotte to do it, did you?- Charlotte mercifully helps me out of my corset.

"I think I've permanently lost two inches off my waist," I complain as the garment is unlaced and removed from me. I immediately remove my boots, my skirt and my stockings and pull on a cosy dressing gown over my bra and thong before crashing on my bed.

"You should be so lucky," Charlotte jokes as she sits down on my sofa, somehow still energetic despite how long the day's been. "Anyway, it's your big day tomorrow, decided what you're going to wear yet? And please tell me it won't be trousers."

"Of course not," I say dismissively. "I'm going to go in there as Jamie-Lee. If they don't like it, then tough!"

"Atta girl!" Charlotte says cheerfully. My attitude, however, is all show. Secretly, I'm terrified- I would have much preferred if Charlotte had conveniently forgotten about the reunion until tomorrow morning so I didn't have to face my feelings. It didn't come up at all throughout the day- Kristie and Mary know I'm estranged from my parents but obviously don't know why, and don't know about tomorrow either.

Charlotte leaves me in peace, saying she'll 'let me get some rest' though I suspect she's slightly more concerned about getting herself some Keith. I try to sleep but my rest is fitful, peppered with dreams about how my life used to be back when I was James. In all my dreams about the past since I committed to this change, I was always my old self- that is, male- but tonight when I dream about my past, whether it's my home life or my school life, I'm Jamie-Lee. And in a way, it's like I've always been Jamie-Lee. Even if they reject me, tomorrow is just a formality- I know who my real family is.

None of that helps at all the following morning when Charlotte wakes me up at 8am. My hands are like ice and my whole body is shaking in a combination of nerves and mortal terror. Charlotte immediately plays the BFF role I've got so used to over the past few months, bringing me up a calming cup of herbal tea and leading me into my bathroom to do my make-up. We've agreed on a 'subdued feminine' look for today- clear nail polish (for about the first time in six weeks) and just enough make-up to define my features without starting to overwhelm them. The only jewellery I'm wearing are a pair of gold studs, a plain gold necklace and my favourite bracelet. Instead of my usual satin bra & thong combo, I opt for a comfortable black cotton bodysuit and a thick pair of flesh-coloured tights. I pull on a red turtle necked sweater and a plain back knee-length skirt, finishing off with a pair of 2" heeled booties. On any other day, I'd be aghast at looking so... ordinary, and Charlotte would likely threaten to disown me, but today, I can't go throwing myself in my parents' faces. I need to be Jamie-Lee the demure daughter, not Jamie-Lee the sex kitten. After one last trip to the toilet, I pull on my coat, grab my everyday handbag and head out with Charlotte to where Ellen is parked and waiting for us.

"You look great," my ballet tutor reassures me as I buckle myself into the front seat of her car. "I know I for one would be proud to have you as a daughter."

"Anybody would," Charlotte concurs.

"thanks," I whisper hoarsely as Ellen pulls the car out of the driveway. We're meeting at Dr. Phillips's office- 'neutral territory'- and Dr. Phillips will speak with my parents before introducing me as, well, me. It's a long, quiet journey into central London- even Charlotte is sensitive enough to put the brakes on her usual motor mouth.

My first attack of nerves comes when I step out of Ellen's car and immediately see my parents' car in front of me.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod," I babble, inadvertently sounding like Charlotte did yesterday, "they're already here..." Charlotte, ever the BFF, immediately grabs my head (how she does this without gouging my flesh on her nails I'll never know) and looks me in the eye.

"LISTEN!" She shouts in a firm but friendly voice. "You are a beautiful, successful young woman. You're rich, you're loved, and you have the most amazing life ahead of you. As we've said all the way here, any sane parents would give everything to have a daughter like you. So STOP PANICKING!"

"O-okay," I say, taking several deep breaths and ringing Dr. Phillips's doorbell.

"Come on in, Jamie," Dr. Phillips says over the intercom, as Charlotte and Ellen lead me, shaking, up the stairs to the reception outside her office. Five minutes pass that feel like five days, as I hear Dr. Phillips's and my parents' muffled voices behind the door. I strain my ear to try to listen to what they're saying, but I can't even tell the tone of the voices, let alone the words.

I'm almost nauseous with terror as Dr. Phillips appears at the door and escorts me into the office where my mother and father are standing, staring wide-eyed at my form. I smile nervously and wave.

"Hi mum," I quiver in my feminine voice, cringing at how high-pitched it is. "Hi dad."

"What the FUCK IS THIS!?" Dad yells angrily, quivering himself, though undoubtedly through rage rather than fear.

"Mr Travis, we've been through this-" Dr. Phillips says calmly.

"Is this some kind of sick joke!?" Dad continues as I feel the world crumbling around me. Everything begins to fade as I feel faint, Dad's angry rants in my face melting into gibberish. If it wasn't for Charlotte quickly appearing by my side, I'd have immediately slumped to the floor. By the time I regain my composure and the tears have been cleared from my eyes, my parents are gone and I'm sat, knees pressed together and hands clasped in my lap in one of Dr. Phillips's comfortable chairs.

"Jamie," Dr. Phillips says softly, before I cut her off.

"James," I correct her, trying but failing to adopt a masculine voice. "No- Jamie," I say, readopting my feminine voice. "No- I- I don't know who I am any more..." I break down again as Charlotte holds me.

"Jamie," Charlotte says firmly. "Listen to me. Over the last eight months-"

"I've just been playing a game," I say, babbling barely coherently.

"NO!" Charlotte states strongly. "I couldn't have got through this year without you. You've been the perfect friend and the perfect girl. Don't let this change anything."

"Charlotte's right," Dr. Phillips states. "Every time you've been in my office you've told me just how positive you've been about your new life. You yourself stated that your parents haven't had any impact in your life in the last four years. You can't let this change all of the growth you've made."

"It's all a lie," I babble as Charlotte grips my shoulder tighter, worried I might be about to reveal the 'true' nature of our first meeting.

"I know why you might think that," Dr. Phillips says. "But I've seen all you've achieved, all the friends you've made. THEY'RE all real. Your job is real. The relationships you've told me about? All real." I start to calm down a little. Charlotte- for all her arrogance- has always been there for me just as I've always been there for her. Kristie, Mary, all the actors and actresses I met up in Scotland, all the models I've worked with, Joshua... Keith...

"I- I want to go home," I say hoarsely, my nervous energy completely spent.

"Call me after Christmas," Dr. Phillips requests as I'm led back to Ellen's car.

Once I arrive back home I strip out of all my clothes and dive under the shower, letting the hot water wash away all my make-up until I'm just left with my own, bare skin. I step out into my room, still naked, and stare at myself in my full-length mirror. From the waist up, there was no way you'd mistake me for anything other than totally female. Even if I tie my hair back I have a feminine-looking face. It almost makes the presence of my male genitals look like a mistake, an anomaly. Even if I try standing like a man- slouchy, casually, whatever- I can't pull it off. A hand will always wander back to one of my widening hips or I'll start pouting or some other feminine mannerism that now comes automatically to me.

It's ironic that when I first set off down the path to become Jamie-Lee I'd never even thought of becoming a woman. For the first few weeks I'd have to consciously remind myself (or have Charlotte remind me) of the way I should be acting and not to let any masculinity accidentally creep in. And yet now, not only do I have to make a conscious effort to be masculine, I'm no good at it when I try.

And yet, I AM a man. I have male genitals- for now- I have an X chromosome and a Y chromosome, and for nineteen and a half years of my life, I lived as a man. Everyone I knew for that time knew me as a man, accepted me- for the most part- as a man, and if today has proven anything, it's that my family see me as a man, always have, and always will. Jamie-Lee IS a fiction, someone I want to be rather than someone who I truly am. But I've successfully lived this fiction for nine months now and lived it a hell of a lot more successfully than I had my 'real' life. In a way, Jamie-Lee is a hell of a lot more 'real' than James ever will be.

I could go back to being James, I could stop the hormones and remove the implants and settle back into my old life. I could give up my femininity... but that's the whole point. I'd be giving it up. I'd be making a sacrifice I don't want to make, shouldn't have to make. A father who thinks nothing of verbally abusing his daughter isn't worth the sacrifice.

"Hey, Jay," Charlotte knocks gently on my door. I sigh softly.

"Come in," I say softly, not bothering to cover up my body.

"I was just- woah," Charlotte says, averting her eyes from my naked body. "So, we're being exhibitionist today, are we?"

"I don't know what I see when I look in the mirror," I confess, reaching into my drawer and picking out a fresh vagina panty.

"Other than a young twenty year old blonde stunner with an amazing body?" Charlotte says, trying to cheer me up by complimenting me.

"And a hideous growth between her legs," I mumble quietly.

"HER legs?" Charlotte teases. "So all this 'my name is James' stuff is...?"

"An overreaction," I confess, slipping the vagina panty on and securing it in place. "I've thought of, you know, 'backing out' dozens of times before now, but every time I've known that it wasn't worth giving up what I have to be a boy again. Heh, even when I was James I didn't know what I saw when I looked in the mirror most of the time. Look at me." Charlotte slowly turns and looks at me, now the vagina panty is 'completing' my appearance.

"You'd never be able to tell," Charlotte says with a smile on her face. "And the, you know, are 'they' comfortable?"

"Still a little tender," I confess, gently cupping my breasts. "But a hell of a lot more comfortable than having glue smeared all over them every day."

"Are they more comfortable than nothing at all?" Charlotte probes.

"I guess not," I say, prompting a slightly disappointed frown from Charlotte. "But they are definitely better than nothing at all!" Charlotte grins and fidgets a little.

"I would go over and give you a hug if you weren't, you know," Charlotte says cheekily."

"Point taken," I say, blushing a little. "Which drawer has my boxer shorts and t-shirts in again?" Charlotte shoots a laughing snarl in my direction and hurls a pillow at me, which I deflect with a laugh.

"Are you still coming to the party?" Charlotte asks. Clearly she's worried about me to ask rather than assume/demand- I must've been a real mess in that office. In truth, the party was the last thing on my mind right now.

"I'll think about it," I confess as I pull on a clean, black bra & thong set. "Truth be told I'm not really in the mood for-" My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of my bedroom door suddenly opening.

"Hey Jamie," Keith announces, wandering uninvited into my room, "have you seen Char- whoa!" Keith suddenly throws a hand over his eyes and turns his head from the sight of my underwear-clad body as I quickly hide behind my wardrobe door. Charlotte, for her part, simply sighs and laughs.

"Jesus Christ, Keith!" I half-seriously admonish, "Do you want to try knocking, maybe?"

"Sorry, sorry!" Keith says, keeping a hand up to shield me from his view. "Charlie, you said you wanted me to remind you when the caterers arrived?"

"Right," Charlotte says calmly. "Tell them I'll be right down." Keith simply nods and scurries out of the room, leaving me and Charlotte to collapse in a fit of giggles.

"Do you think he'll ever master the art of knocking?" I ask as I pick a clean pair of translucent black tights out of my hosiery drawer.

"I wouldn't hold out too much hope," Charlotte chuckles as she follows the beautiful young man out of my room. "Anyway, let me know if you do come to the party. I really recommend you do- you never know who you might meet..." Charlotte winks as she leaves the room.

I pull on a silky camisole, a tight grey top and a butt-hugging miniskirt, opting out of the velvet leotard and hotpants I was planning to wear as I find myself less comfortable than ever wearing trousers or shorts- even shorts that are only 4 inches long and skin-tight against my hips.

I spend the afternoon in my room, mostly browsing Facebook and looking at all the photos of all the parties Charlotte and I have attended over the course of the year and being reminded of just how amazing my life is. Charlotte's right when she says she'll always be my family- the last eight months of my life have been so much fun, I can't let what happened today get in the way of it. It's a cliché to say 'today is the first day of the rest of my life' but it's truer now that it ever has been.

Smiling a devilish grin, I strip out of my day clothes and into my costume. After fixing my hair and make-up- adding some sixties-style curls to the end of my normally straight hair- I struggle into the authentic sixties long-line bra and panty girdle, praying I won't have to spend too much time in either garment. I roll a pair of tan-coloured stockings up my legs, clipping them to the girdle's garters, and pull on the white blouse, followed by the blue pencil skirt & blazer. Slipping my feet into the patent leather stiletto heels, I give my look one last check before pulling on my white gloves and blue stewardess's hat. I grab my bag and sexily sashay downstairs to where my 'crewmates' are already waiting.

"You took your time, Laura," Charlotte- or, should I say, 'Margaret' (complete with dark wig) chastises me. I simply pout in response.

“Are we ready?” I ask with a sultry smile on my face.

“It's show time,” 'Margaret' confirms. The four of us sexily stride into our main room where we're greeted with awestruck stares and wolf whistles from the (mostly male) partygoers. Naturally, Keith- dressed as an airline captain- makes a beeline for Charlotte and plants a long, lingering kiss on her scarlet lips.

The party goes as you'd expect. Lots of drinking, lots of dancing, lots of flirting. I find myself asked dozens of times 'do you have a boyfriend?' by the hot guys at the party, but even though I strongly hint that I'm available, I'm always on my own ten minutes later. That is, until Charlotte drags over a guy in a Beatles-inspired costume and practically shoves me into his arms.

“This is Paul,” she half-drunkenly yells in my ear. “I know you two will hit it off!” Almost as quickly as she'd made her dramatic entrance, Charlotte is gone again, leaving me in the arms of this unexpected hunk.

“You must be Jamie,” he sexily says into my ear.

“And you must be Mr McCartney,” I tease back as we start dancing together. “You know the Beatles have never actually appeared in the show, right?”

“It's set in the sixties, they'll show up sooner or later,” 'Paul' teases back. We dance for a few minutes before I complain about my feet hurting, so I claim a sofa at the side of the large room for myself whilst 'Paul' brings me a drink. He confidently parks himself next to me, hands me my drink and leans in to whisper in my ear.

“I know about your little secret,” he whispers as my eyes bulge wide in panic and at anger towards Charlotte's loose tongue.

“How did-” I ask, flustered and almost hyperventilating. Paul just puts a finger on my crimson lips and shushes me before continuing.

“I said,” he continued with a wide grin, “I know about your little secret- your 'hideous growth between your legs', and I'm cool with it.” My eyes widen further at the possibilities of this revelation.

“And,” 'Paul' continues, “if you're cool being with a guy who knows about you, then I guess I can be a cool guy being with you.”

Less than three minutes later, the two of us crash through the door of my bedroom, our lips locked in a tight embrace. 'Paul's hands wander all over my body, up my blouse, under my skirt, caressing every square inch of my body that he can find. In return, I have my small, gloved hand pressed hard into his crotch, loving the feeling of his arousal increasing between my fingers. It doesn't take long for me to reach into his fly and release his penis from its fabric confinement. I slowly, expertly massage it to its fullest length as 'Paul' groans in my mouth.

Obviously, I don't want him to come all over the front of my skirt, so I dominantly push him down so that he's sat on the side of my bed, and slowly lower my stockinged knees to the floor in front of him. I stick out my tongue and slowly lick the head of his beautiful penis clean, savouring the taste of every drop of moisture before taking the head in my lips and slowly sucking the entire length into my mouth.

It's been three long, long months since I had a penis in my mouth, and I'm almost disappointed when 'Paul' yells with ecstasy, spasming and shooting load after load of semen down my throat. I suckle at his flaccid, spent penis a few seconds longer before allowing it to withdraw from my mouth, smiling wickedly at the red blotches my lipstick has left on it.

'Paul', for his part, is covered in sweat and breathing heavily. I carefully replace his stained penis before sliding next to him on my big, double bed.

“You're going to tell me now that you have a girlfriend, right?” I joke as I stare into his unfocussed eyes.

“I do now,” 'Paul' whispers, giving me a long, lingering kiss. “Charlotte gave me your number, maybe I could call you tomorrow?”

“You'd better,” I grin as the two of us return to the party- me stopping off to repair my make-up first, of course!

I spend the rest of the night dancing and chatting with Paul- which, it turns out, actually is his name- before collapsing into bed at 1:30am. I can't sleep, though- even though I know he won't call immediately, I'm giddy with anticipation about Paul's call, and about having a boyfriend who knows exactly who- and what- I am.

I wake up at 8am having slept fitfully. After my normal morning ritual (shower, straightening my hair after last night, make-up, vagina panty), I open a small drawer in one of the cupboards in my bathroom and stare into it at my collection of butt plugs and dildos. I'd mentioned 'using' them, back when I was dating Michael, as a way of getting used to receiving anal sex. I know it sounds overly kinky, but I just want to be a normal girl with as normal a sex life as possible, and much as I love giving blowjobs, I want to know what it's like to have a man make love to me. And, once I'd got past the initial embarrassment and tension at pushing something up my backside, I found the whole experience of using a butt plug or a dildo highly erotic, even orgasmic at times. As I said though, I couldn't offer anal sex to Michael without having to answer several very awkward questions. But those questions have already been answered with Paul- and the answer is 'it's cool', so really, why not?

I wince a little as I push one of my larger stainless steel butt plugs into place. I'd forgotten how much it hurt at first- it's been so long since I last used one. once it's in place, though, the familiar erotic feelings come flooding back as it wiggles around inside me with every step I take. I briefly consider 'wearing' it down to breakfast but wisely think better of it- one, because wearing butt plugs for a prolonged period of time really isn't a clever idea, and two, we're heading straight out after breakfast this morning to see Charlotte's father, and she's bound to sense something's up if I fidget the whole way there.

Sighing as I ease the plug out of my anus, I pick out my underwear for the day- rather obviously, I opt for a black satin thong 'downstairs' and my most comfortable satin bra 'upstairs', still smarting a little from my exploits with the long line bra last night. I put on my make-up- no more than normal, although admittedly, that is a lot. I leave my nails colour-free but I do put a shiny coat of clear nail polish on them.

As I sterilise the plug, my mind is drawn back to my parents. Within twelve hours yesterday I went from denying my femininity to hooking up with some guy I barely knew. Images of my father's angry, ranting face flash before my eyes, along with Paul's handsome, smiling face. The tingling sensation in my anus and the warm glow the floods throughout my body whenever I think of last night tells me that I made the right choice. I quickly trip back into my bedroom and grab my phone- despite the fact I never dialled it, I have my parent's number in my phone's memory, and a part of me is desperate to dial the number just to rub in the face of that bigoted bastard precisely what his daughter did last night, and who she did it with, but I know deep down it won't do any good. Sighing, I toss my phone on my bed and continue getting dressed.

I roll a pair of thick black tights up my legs and pick out today's outfit, a simple clingy white top and a dark grey pinafore dress. I opt for ballet flats instead of heels- going into a prison, I don't really want to give me inmates there any wrong ideas.

To my immense surprise, when I enter the kitchen, Charlotte's sat at the table, absolutely dead quiet. Her outfit is even more subdued than mine- a knee-length black A-line skirt, a tight white sweater and translucent tights. I can't see her feet, but I can guess from her posture she's wearing flats too. She has even less make-up on than I do, though she does still have her trademark extra-long red nails in place, of course.

"Hey," I say quietly, sitting down opposite Charlotte as Keith silently hands me my cereal.

"Hey Jay," Charlotte whispers back, her attitude as subdued as her look.

"Are you ready?" I ask quietly. No sense in asking if she's nervous or scared- after yesterday, I know exactly how she's feeling.

"I think so," Charlotte says, clasping hands with Keith as he sits down next to her. I still can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as he looks into her eyes, despite my new found romance...

The car ride over there was deathly quiet. The camera crew were already present when we arrived and quickly whisked Charlotte away, whilst Keith and I were left to our own devices in the visitors centre reception.

Ten minutes passed in silence as I read one of the fashion magazines, all too aware of the presence of the man I love just a couple of feet to my left.

"So," Keith says, snapping me out of my trance.

"Huh?" I ask, trying not to involuntarily grin at his cute, lop-sided smile.

"You okay?" Keith asks, noting my distraction.

"Yeah," I say nervously, "fine, why do you ask?"

"You just seem a little... distant, that's all." Keith says worriedly. "Is everything okay between you and Charlotte?"

"Fine," I repeat, confused by Keith's concern. "I..." I desperately roll around in my brain, thinking of another tale to tell Keith. 'I'm struggling to find work'? Nah, he knows who represents me AND how busy I am. 'I'm having boy trouble'? When am I NOT? Immediately, I know I have to tell Keith the truth.

"Yesterday morning..." I begin, "Charlotte and I, we... weren't at the salon. We... went to meet my parents."

"Oh my god," Keith breathes, understanding exactly the significance of this. "Were- were they- how did you- what happened?" I take a deep breath and try to maintain my composure.

"Picture an asteroid hitting the Titanic," I say sarcastically. "Total disaster. They took one look at-" pick your words carefully, Jamie.. "my career choice and just stormed out."

"Even though you're earning full-time wages on part-time hours AND going to college?" Keith asks incredulously.

"Yep," I confess. "Apparently I'm not 'professional' enough for them. Never mind the fact that I'm only twenty and THEY never did anything to encourage me whilst I was at school."

"Well," Keith says, "their loss is our gain. Mine especially- I never had a little sister before!" My heart sinks as I hear Keith refer to me as his 'little sister', when I yearn to be so, so much more than that. "Here I was thinking you were having boy troubles again..." I snort with laughter and resume reading my magazine.

"Nah," I say with a smile. "For once things there are looking pretty good!"

"I thought I saw you slipping away for a bit with Paul Gould last night," Keith says with a beautiful smile of his own.

"Is that his surname, Gould?" I ask, immediately realising just what it was I asked.

"Umm..." Keith asks, slightly shocked by the implications of my ignorance, "that didn't come up at any point?"

"Well," I say, trying desperately to avoid any further embarrassment, "it sorta, kinda, didn't come up. I do know he's a magazine editor though." Keith just continues to stare at me uneasily. "What?"

"He's a photographer," Keith says, now more concerned than shocked. "What- what exactly were you doing last night?" A broad grin seeps across my face as my embarrassment transfers itself wholly onto my 'big brother'.

"I surely don't need to spell it out, do I?" I state coyly as I immerse myself in my magazine.

"So much for 'little sister'..." Keith whispers as he slumps back in his chair in shock.

The rest of the morning passes in silence- Keith tries a couple of times to instigate a conversation but never gets past a couple of questions. I think I intimidate him now, the poor dear. The camera crew follow Charlotte as she confidently strolls out of the meeting room, her usual smile plastered all over her face. Great, I self-pityingly think to myself, even THAT goes well for her...

After the camera crew do a quick interview with Charlotte they hand her back to us and we eagerly relax into our taxi home.

"So," I begin, "it went well, I take it?" To my surprise, Charlotte's smile immediately fades as she squeezes Keith's hand tightly.

"I- I didn't know what to say to him," Charlotte confesses quietly. "I had all these questions running around my head, all the things I wanted to throw in his face, then I went in there, he saw me, he smiled, and he was just- you know- dad. I wanted to hate him for what he did, I really, really wanted to, but I just couldn't."

"Are you going to see him again?" I ask softly.

"No," Charlotte firmly states. "If I see him again I'll just choke up again. And, like a very, very clever girl once said, he's a part of my past. All I care about is my future." I grin widely as Charlotte paraphrases what I'd said earlier. If I wasn't in the front seat of the car I'd reach over to Charlotte and give her the biggest hug any BFF had ever given. I turn my head as Keith embraces Charlotte and reach into my bag for my phone. Switching it back on, I'm thrilled to see a text message from Paul waiting for me.

"R U free tonite?" The text bluntly asks. Rather than immediately jump into his arms and onto his- well, you know- I decide to play it a little coy.

"What did U have in mind?" I text back, pausing briefly before pushing 'send'. The sound of the message being sent immediately piques Charlotte's interest.

"Who are you texting?" Charlotte asks, as blunt as the text I'm replying to.

"Paul," I say with a wide grin, which only gets wider as I see Keith deliberately avoid eye contact with me.

"Ooh," Charlotte teases, "has our Jamie FINALLY got a boyfriend she's going to hang on to?"

"That is kinda the plan," I tease back, fiddling with my phone in the vain hope it'll make Paul text back faster. "He wants to know if I'm free tonight."

"You are now," Charlotte says commandingly. "Driver, take us to Huntingdon Street."

"Oh what?" Keith complains. "You're going to drag me to your salon for hours on end when I've got stuff to prepare for tomorrow?"

"We'll get the driver to take you home once he's dropped us off," Charlotte states firmly. "Jamie's got a date tonight, THAT's the important thing." Keith simply sighs quietly.

"Fine," he concedes as I and Charlotte giggle with excitement.

Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, we find ourselves ushered into the VIP area of our favourite beauty salon (an advantage of Charlotte's fame is that when she makes calls, people listen) and are treated like princesses for the next two hours. After a cleansing body wash and facial, my make-up is reapplied by the salon's best artist. Burgundy lipstick complements my thick eyeliner and mascara, whilst my light glittery eye shadow doesn't threaten to dominate my face. My eyebrows are reshaped and plucked to perfection, and my hair is treated with the finest products the salon has. My finger and toe nails are redone in the same burgundy colour as my lips and I have a light layer of tan applied over my whole body. I emerge from the beauty parlour feeling like I can have my pick of any boy on the planet, but knowing deep down there's one who'll always be out of reach. However, the discovery of another text from Paul brings me back into a positive mind-set again.

"Free for dinner?" The text reads. A broad smile spreads across my perfectly made-up lips as I text back in the affirmative.

Once we arrived home Charlotte immediately drags me up to my room and drags every outfit I have out of my wardrobe. After trying on hundreds of dresses, skirts, leotards, tops and even one or two pairs of girly trousers, I settle on a tight, very short black dress with lacy sleeves, sheer black tights (the dress is too short for stockings) and a pair of 5.5" heeled black stilettos. Charlotte and I worked out a while ago that 5.5" was the perfect height to be sexy without being too extreme as to distract from the sexiness. Underneath I have my sexiest tiny black bra and G-string set- Charlotte had wanted me in a corset but fortunately I managed to talk her out of it! I spray on some of my most expensive perfume, put on my best silver earrings and necklace and make sure my look is absolutely perfect before heading out to where my taxi is waiting. Despite the fact that I had over 3 hours to get ready, I still make the taxi wait for over ten minutes before heading out to it!

Unsurprisingly, given my tardiness, Paul is already waiting for me when I arrive at the restaurant.

"Hi," he says with an eager smile, giving me a quick kiss on the lips. I smile as his eyes widen as he helps me take off my coat.

"Wow," he breathes as he gets a view of my sexy body in my sexy dress.

"Glad you approve," I say with a wide grin as I sit down. "You look pretty good yourself." Paul smiles a confident grin as he sits back down and the waiter pours our drinks. I sip my wine coyly as Paul continues complimenting me.

The meal lasts just forty minutes, both of us agreeing to skip dessert in favour of a quick exit. I'm trusting that I've read Paul correctly, and that he wants what I want out of tonight, but given that he's quick to cup my backside in his hand as we step into the waiting taxi, I'm confident that he expects tonight to end the way I expect tonight to end.

Sure enough, once we arrive home (and I've checked there are no lights on downstairs- Charlotte and Keith are also out), Paul eagerly takes me up on my offer of some 'coffee'. I do sense some hesitation, though, as we enter the kitchen.

"By 'coffee', you don't actually mean drinking hot brown liquid, do you?" Paul asks nervously as he takes off his coat and shoes.

"Well," I say with a wicked smile, "I thought we could start with that and see where we go from there."

"It's just that, you know, normally people wait until the third date before, you know, 'coffee'," Paul says.

"People also wait for longer than twenty minutes before deep-throating," I retort. "But if it makes you feel any better, just count the party as our first date, the meal as our second and this can be our third right now." This time, it's Paul's turn to smile a devilish grin.

"You know," he says with pure lust in his eyes, "I'm not really that thirsty..."

"Nor am I," I say breathily as my heart begins to race. I grab Paul's hand and lead him upstairs to my bedroom where we both immediately start undressing each other, our lips locked in a passionate embrace. God, he tastes so good... I think to myself as Paul expertly unclasps my bra and strips the tights from my legs, leaving me in just my tiny thong. I pull Paul's briefs down and immediately start massaging his semi-erect penis as we recline down onto my bed, our scents mixing together with the tell-tale smell of pre-sex sweat.

I let out a slight yelp as Paul slowly pushes one of his fingers past my thong into my anus, slowly penetrating me and sending lightning bolts of excitement through my body.

"Don't stop," I beg breathlessly between kisses, "don't stop!" Paul moves his face from mine down to my body and slowly treats my breasts with tiny kisses, gently pulling at my hardened nipples with his lips as he continues working my backside with his expert digits.

I begin to breathe faster as Paul slowly rolls me over onto all fours, not taking any attention away from my backside as he slowly kisses his way down my spine until he reaches the top of my widening hips. I let out a sigh of disappointment as I feel his finger pull out of my anus, but mere seconds later I gasp as I feel a wider, much wider, latex-encased length force its way into my backside.

My thoughts are a blur as Paul's arms encircle me from behind and he penetrates me further and deeper with every thrust. After what feel like a blissful eternity, Paul's penis stiffens inside me and reaches its full length, battering into my prostate and forcing me to take a deep breath as wave after wave of orgasm slams into my body.

I scream so loud as the ecstasy takes hold of me that anyone who may have been listening would have thought I was being murdered, but nothing would be further from the truth.

I soak up every moment of my orgasm whilst it lasts, and I close my eyes in satisfaction (and, if I'm honest, a little disappointment) as Paul withdraws his now-flaccid penis from me and collapses next to me on the bed, our bodies glistening with sweet, fine sweat. We look into each other’s eyes and grin dopily before sharing one final, deep kiss.

"Wow," I gasp as I take several deep breaths, desperately trying to compose myself. Paul, also still breathing heavily, encircles me from behind with his arms again, but this time in a soft, affectionate cuddle. Despite it being before 10pm, both of us are asleep within 15 minutes.

My 'early night' explains how I'm awake at 6:45, Paul's arms still gently encircling me from behind. I slowly turn my body around in his arms to stare through the darkness at his slumbering face, hoping to wake him up to scratch the wonderful, tingling itch in my backside, but he's dead to the world, and as I've got no chance of getting back to sleep, I hop out of bed and quickly shower, change my vagina panty and fix my make-up for the day. I pull on a fresh thong, nightie and dressing gown and head back into my room where Paul still slumbers. My mind briefly drifts back to when I first awoke in this room nine months ago, confused and terrified by my unfamiliar feminine surroundings, and I can't help but wonder what Paul's reaction will be when he wakes up surrounded by the onslaught of girliness I've filled my bedroom with.

Knowing I'm not going to get any reaction out of Paul for a good, long while, I slip my feet into a pair of pink slippers and eagerly skip downstairs to the kitchen. I get the shock of my life when I switch on the light and there, sitting in the darkness with an evil grin on her face, is Charlotte.

"So," my BFF begins, somehow sensing what I'd got up to last night. "How'd the big date go? When are you seeing Paul again?" I briefly consider fibbing, but I've never been able to hide anything from Charlotte, so I figure I may as well by up-front about everything.

"Brilliantly, and in about ten minutes' time," I say with my own evil grin, Charlotte's jaw drops, but I can sense her approval from her facial expression and vocal tone.

"Oh- my- god!" She enthuses. "I had no idea that sweet, innocent Jamie-Lee was so man-hungry!"

"I had no idea you saw me as 'sweet' and 'innocent'," I shoot back, pouring myself a cup of coffee and sliding into the seat next to Charlotte.

"Well," Charlotte says confidently, "I'm pretty sure you've only ever slept alone before, right?"

"Maybe," I say aloofly. "Do all guys sleep so much after sex, though?"

"You mean you don't know?" Charlotte teases, before her expression turns into one of genuine shock. "Oh my god, you really don't know? You never, you know, when you were James?"

"Would you have dated a short, shrimpy unemployed guy?" I ask sadly.

"I guess not," Charlotte confesses with an air of guilt in her voice. "Lucky for you Jamie-Lee is a hot, sexy, successful model!"

"...And lucky for Paul, too!" I say as I pour a second cup of coffee and grab a serving tray to take back up to my room.

"I take it you're hoping coffee will give him more 'energy'?" Charlotte asks, her earlier evil grin returning to her face.

"Maybe," I say, trying to be coy despite my broad grin giving away my intentions.

"I take it you're wearing a nightie under there?" Charlotte asks. "I'm HOPING you're wearing one, anyway..."

"Yes," I answer, confused by her question. "Why, exactly?"

"If you want to catch Paul's 'attention'," Charlotte says with a smirk, "you may want to try something a little more eye-catching. You remember how I didn't get out of bed until 2pm the day after my birthday?"

"Yes," I answer again, before catching on to what Charlotte is implying.

"I've still got the costume," Charlotte beams. "Wait a few minutes, I'll get it for you."

Sure enough, when Paul awakes, fifteen minutes later, the first sound out of his mouth is a groan of pure lust.

"Would you like some coffee now?" I ask in my best 'serving girl' voice as Paul's gaze transfixes onto my body.

I mentioned earlier that Charlotte's birthday party (that she brought up in the kitchen) had a 'playboy bunny' theme. What I didn't mention was that whilst my costume was a black ballet leotard with a tail stuck on my bottom, Charlotte's costume was a custom-made, shiny pink strapless boned satin leotard with a thong bottom so tiny practically all of her buttocks were on view the entire night. That thong is currently firmly lodged between my buttocks, and the 6" neon pink pumps Charlotte wore on the night are attached to my feet, as well as the rosette, collar and ears that make up the classic bunny costume. I've 'adapted' it a little to suit my needs, though- some additional cotton wool in the front of it both cushion my breasts and enhance my cleavage magnificently, and remember those satin gloves I said I'd never have a reason to wear? I currently have a bicep-length pair of pink ones on that I simply can't wait to massage Paul's penis with. With neon pink-themed makeup and a shiny, smooth body, I am every straight man's wet dream right now.

"Coffee would be good," Paul whispers, desperately trying to regain a normal breathing pattern. I dutifully pour him a cup and leave it on my bedside table next to Paul, leaning backwards in a perfect 'bunny dip'. As Paul drinks his coffee, I take a seat on the edge of my bed, making sure Paul gets a good, long look at my bare buttocks as I do so.

"You really are full of surprises," Paul says. "Good ones, obviously, I didn't mean-" I press a gloved finger to his lips, silencing him.

"I know, I know," I say, sliding closer to him and letting him get a good smell of my expensive perfume.

"Are you not having anything to drink?" Paul asks. I grin, desperately trying to stay in character.

"Maybe later," I reply in my best 'sex kitten' voice. "I'm not allowed to drink whilst I'm 'on duty'." Paul grins widely- he's obviously enjoying the role-play.

"Have you been working here long?" Paul asks, adopting a very fake-sounding American accent.

"This is my first day," I reply, also adopting a (better) American accent.

"Well I'm glad I was served by the most beautiful girl in the room," Paul retorts as we both try not to giggle.

"I'm the ONLY girl in the room," I teasingly scold in my normal voice.

"You're the most beautiful girl in ANY room," Paul reassures me as he finishes his coffee and pulls me closer for a slow, passionate kiss. "Especially when you're wearing what I assume is the most uncomfortable thing in the world."

"Glad you appreciate the trouble I went to," I say with a blush before readopting my fake American accent. "Now, what's a girl gotta do to get a tip around here?"

"Oh," Paul says, also readopting his 'American' accent, "I think you already know." I grin widely before pouting at Paul as he slides his legs out of bed. As I pull the covers back, I'm unsurprised to see his penis is already fully erect and glistening with sexy sweat. I take gentle hold of it in my satin-encased hands and feel it immediately start to throb as Paul's head rolls back and he starts breathing deeply. I sink to my knees mere seconds later as I feel it start to pulse uncontrollably.

Paul yells as he orgasms yet again. I'm too slow to lean in for his first spurt, causing the jet of sticky semen to hit me just below my left eye, but I quickly wrap my neon pink lips around his penis and drink down the rest of his orgasm as Paul collapses back onto the bed, panting heavily.

"Maybe I will have a drink," I giggle as I grab a tissue from my drawer to wipe my face clean.

"I really wish I had my camera with me right now," Paul mutters out loud.

"Why, to photograph me with your spunk all over my face?" I ask teasingly as I head to the bathroom to flush the tissue.

"Nah, just proof I have such an amazing girlfriend!" Paul replies, causing me to grin widely. "You know, the longer we stay up here, the more your housemates are going to gossip about what we're doing..."

"Good!" I say with conviction. "Let them talk. I'm an adult, I do what I want, with whoever I want, when I want." I begin to loosen the corset-style back of my bunny costume and slowly ease my smooth, supple body out of it.

"This, I like the sound of." Paul states as I step out of the bathroom having totally shed my costume, wearing only my vagina panty, my stilettos and a wide, wicked smile. "...AND the sight of." I can't help but notice his eyes are transfixed on the patch of latex covering my crotch.

"Go on, touch it if you want," I say, kneeling on my bed in front of Paul. "It won't bite!" I giggle as he slowly runs a finger over the labia part of the prosthetic.

"It's actually really life-like," Paul says with a laugh. I grin and grab his hands, placing them over my breasts. Paul gently caresses them as I lean back with a wide, contented smile on my face.

"Oh yes," Paul whispers as he leans in closer and begins peppering my chest with kisses, paying special attention to my rock-hard, erect nipples. I begin to breathe faster as our bodies entwine once again, and within minutes, I've slipped a fresh condom over Paul's penis and he is back inside my backside, rhythmically rocking the two of us back and forth until we both reach our climaxes simultaneously, yelling with passion as the moment overtakes us.

Ten minutes later, we lay across each other in bed, desperately trying to get our breath back.

"So here we are," Paul starts, "lying in bed having had sex twice in the last twelve hours, and I can't help but realise I barely know anything about you beyond you being a model and, well, the other thing."

"What is there to know?" I ask with a smile.

"Your surname for starters!" Paul laughs. "I don't even know how old you are."

"Does it matter?" I ask further.

"Jamie," Paul says seriously, "I'm not just looking for a cheap fuck, I want a girlfriend. Someone I can hang out with and take places and show off to my friends. I thought that was what you wanted too, Charlotte's told me you've had problems with boyfriends before because of your, well, 'thing'." I close my eyes and lay back in bed, feeling utterly embarrassed. I trying to be the best cock-tease I can, I've forgotten there's more to being a good girlfriend than just having a firm grip on- well, you know.

"Aah," I sigh as I cover my face, "we've gone too fast haven't we?"

"Parts of me would disagree with you," Paul says playfully. "And it's certainly not too late to get things back under control." I grin and look Paul in the eye.

"My surname is Burke," I say, mimicking reading off of a factsheet. "I was born September 19th 1991 in London, I like listening to music, going to concerts, shopping, fashion magazines, clubbing, swimming and playing tennis. I'm learning how to drive and I take private ballet lessons twice a week when I'm not working or going to night school. You?"

"Football, clubbing, music, videogames," Paul confesses. "Gorgeous women." I simply roll my eyes and giggle.

"Typical boy," I say, extending the sound of 'boy' as long as I can.

"Fashion magazines, shopping and you're also a ballet dancer? Typical girl," Paul retorts, emphasising 'girl' just as much as I emphasised 'boy'.

"Thanks!" I reply smugly. Paul simply laughs and checks his phone.

"Ah crap, it's almost ten," he says with a resigned sigh.

"Somewhere you'd rather be?" I say, feigning offense.

"Rather be? No. Have to be? Yes," Paul says sadly. "I, er, kinda promised my parents I'd be at theirs for lunch."

"You can't stay just a little while longer?" I ask as Paul begins to pull his clothes back on.

"Believe me, I wish I could, but it is Christmas Eve," Paul sighs. "Gotta be with my family. You understand, right?" I close my eyes and turn my head a little- of all the times for this subject to come up...

"I- I don't really have any family," I whisper quietly. "Not apart from Charlotte and Keith. And they spend all their time in each other's arms anyway." Paul pauses whilst getting dressed.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I didn't know."

"S'okay," I whisper, cuddling a pillow, not wanting to get out of my warm bed.

"No it isn't," Paul says, picking his phone back up and holding it to his face. "Call home. Hi, dad? Might be a little late getting to you today. Yes, I know, I said I'd be there for lunch. I should be there around mid-afternoon." Paul ends the call as I grin widely.

"You are AWESOME," I enthuse as Paul sits down on the bed and gives me another long, lingering kiss.

"I know," he says with a smug grin on his face. "And you are GORGEOUS."

"I know," I say with a wide grin on my face. "I guess I'm gonna have to get up eventually. Mind waiting while I hit the shower?"

"Go right ahead," Paul says with a smile as I skip my naked body across to my en-suite. As the hot water of the shower hits my body I grin widely at the night/morning's activities and the prospect of yet more to come. Once I've thoroughly cleaned my vagina panty and put on a new one and fixed my make-up for the day- opting for thick, scarlet lipstick and glittery eye shadow- I step out of the bathroom and grin as I see Paul there, drinking in the sight of my naked body. I can almost taste his disappointment as I get dressed, stepping into a satiny black bra & thong set, followed by a pair of sheer black tights. I pick a velvety long-sleeved purple minidress with a cute flared hem from my wardrobe and slip it over my head, finishing off the look with a chic silver bracelet. When I've worn this outfit in the past I've teamed it with 5" black stilettos, but as we're only heading downstairs I slip my feet into a pair of warm Ugg boots and happily head down to the lounge, my fingers linked with Paul's. When we reach the bottom of the stairs, I'm unsurprised to find my BFF standing there, her arms folded across her chest.

"Oh, EVENTUALLY!" She mock-chastises, her eyes gleaming devilishly.

"Have you been waiting there ALL morning?" I mock-chastise back as Paul and I glide past Charlotte into the lounge where Keith is already waiting on his & Charlotte's sofa. I can't help but notice his concerned expression as I cuddle up next to Paul on my sofa.

"Morning," Keith says stoically.

"Morning," Paul says with a grin on his face. "Paul Gould, nice to meet you, bro."

"Keith Hartley," Keith responds as Charlotte snuggles up next to him.

"Oh stop worrying," I say with mock disdain. "I appreciate the whole 'big brother' thing but it's not like I'm fifteen, for Christ's sake."

"You've been going out two days..." Keith feebly complains.

"And when we'd been going out two days, we practically lived in each other's pockets," Charlotte playfully remind her boyfriend. "And we WERE fifteen." At this, Keith shuts up, knowing he's been beaten, and yet I can't help but notice him frequently staring at myself and Paul on the sofa over the course of the morning. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was almost jealous of Paul...

My sexy new boyfriend leaves after we eat lunch- but not after making the taxi wait for several minutes whilst we have our tongues down each other's throats, of course! He's promised to come back the day after tomorrow, but even that separation is longer than I'd like. Fortunately, I have the whole 'Christmas with the son of a business tycoon and a millionaire supermodel' to distract me, though! As Keith will also be leaving to be with his family later this evening, we exchange our gifts early- as well as the usual gifts of clothes, cosmetics (male grooming products in Keith's case), shopping vouchers and (hopefully for this year only) ridiculously tight unitards, we've all bought each other one large, expensive gift. Keith's thrilled with the PlayStation 3 I bought him for his university dorm, which is good considering the number of hints he'd dropped all autumn!

For Charlotte's gift, I had to be a little more creative- what do you get the girl who literally has everything? Something money simply can't buy.

"...Blank DVDs?" Charlotte asks confusedly as she stares as the bundle in her hand. I simply smile happily, knowing how much the gift will mean to Charlotte.

"Not blank," I explain. "Look at the label on the top one." Still confused, Charlotte complies.

"Majorca '97," Charlotte reads aloud. "That's where we went on holiday that year... Oh my god..." Charlotte sits down, finally realising precisely what my DVD gift represents.

"I know how much you've been watching your old home movies on VHS," I explain, "and how heartbroken you were when you broke one last month. So, I've spent the last few weeks transferring them all onto DVD. Merry Christmas, Charlotte." With tears in her eyes, Charlotte launches herself at me and grabs me in the tightest hug I've ever had from anyone.

"Thank you, thank you so much," Charlotte sobs in my ear. "You are the best, the very best best friend anyone has ever had, and I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you for this!"

"It's a gift, you don't have to repay me!" I say, trying to shift around to make Charlotte's hug a little more comfortable. "And it's nothing compared to what you've done for me over the last nine months." Charlotte tightens her hug yet further and keeps hold for a good 30 seconds more before snuggling back down with Keith on the sofa and urging me on to open my presents.

At both of my best friends' insistence, I open Keith's present first- 3 months of driving lessons. I give Keith a quick hug as thanks- making sure not to hold on too long or too tight, mindful that I have a new boyfriend and his girlfriend is sitting just a few feet away!

Charlotte's gift comes last, but it was worth the wait- my jaw goes slack and I gasp as I read the documents in my hands. 3 hours with one of Spencer & Hall's best camera people, in their studio, to shoot my 2013 calendar, which will be professionally printed AND distributed at Charlotte's expense.

"Well, it's not like I need the competition or anything," Charlotte explains, "but I know how much work you put into it and you ARE my BFF, so... Merry Christmas, Jamie!" I launch myself at Charlotte much like she flung herself at me earlier, giving her an uncomfortably tight hug that Charlotte tries her best to wriggle out of, giggling all the way.

We spend the rest of the evening showing off our presents to each other- not Keith's PlayStation, fortunately- eating, drinking and enjoying each other's company. Keith leaves at around 10:30 to go home to his family, leaving just myself and Charlotte alone in our cosy lounge. Oddly, Charlotte's still perky, even though her lover is nowhere to be seen- whether it's because she knows he'll be back on Boxing Day, or because it's Christmas Day tomorrow, I can't say, but it's certainly uncharacteristic behaviour for her...

We both eventually change into our nighties and collapse into our beds just before midnight, both full of excitement for what the rest of the Christmas weekend will bring, but both wishing that our lovers were right there beside us...

I'm reminded that this year, Christmas falls on a Sunday when Charlotte bursts into my room at 7am, eagerly shaking me awake and not stopping until I swing my bare legs out of my warm bed.

"Merry Christmas Jay!" Charlotte yells, wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug. "Come on, just time to get breakfast and shower before church! And before you say 'do I have to', it's just this one time, just today, pleeeease?" I mock-roll my eyes in response. It IS just the two of us today, and she's done so much for me over the last week...

"Oh, okay, just this once," I reply. Charlotte responds with another tight hug and grabs my hands in hers, dragging me down to the kitchen where we quickly down our breakfast of coffee and croissants.

I head back upstairs and quickly run through my morning routines before changing into my outfit for the morning (chosen especially by Charlotte, of course). I slip on a brand-new lacy black bra and thong set I kind-of got myself for Christmas, followed by a pair of translucent, shimmery black tights. The dress Charlotte picked out is a very formal and close-fitting sleeveless shift in a royal blue colour, with a hem that comes to about 2 inches above my knee. Matching 5" stiletto pumps complete the outfit, whilst I don a pair of very expensive sapphire earrings I received last night from Charlotte (sapphires being my birthstone, of course) and my favourite gold necklace to finish my jewellery. After ensuring that my make-up is immaculate, I pull on my blue winter coat, a pair of matching gloves and head out to join Charlotte in the taxi. Naturally, she's wearing all her finest clothes too- a similar style of dress to mine (only in red instead of blue), kid leather gloves and, of course, 6" stilettos.

The church service goes as expected- lots of hymns, carols and prayers. There was a cute bit where the local children read out lists of what presents they received, which made myself and Charlotte giggle. We ended up leaving immediately after the service ends, which I thought was strange, as Charlotte usually sticks around to talk to the vicar afterwards, but when I question my BFF about this deviation in her routine, all she can do is smile knowingly.

We arrive home at around noon, and I head up to my room, strip off all of my clothes and take a deep breath as I stare at the unitard laid out on my bed. I'd promised Charlotte yesterday that I'd wear it at some point today- might as well get it out of the way now.

Rather than wear a comfortable thong or G-string with the unitard, I'm instead forced to wear a piece of underwear called a c-string. Imagine a hairband, only with one end that's wider than usual. The idea is that the wide end covers your vagina, whilst the thin end runs between your buttocks like a thong, only instead of a thin, unobtrusive piece of fabric, the c-string is like clutching a pencil between your buttocks. It's supposed to completely eliminate panty lines (there are no side straps) but some prices are too high to pay!

I eventually manage to struggle into the unitard, and I do have to admit it highlights my curves magnificently, just as it did with Charlotte, but it is phenomenally uncomfortable, and there's no way I'll wear just this to eat Christmas dinner. I slip a novelty Christmas jumper Keith gave me over my head (I figure this is the one day of the year I can get away with wearing it) and pull on a pleated black mini-skirt to cover up before slipping my feet into a pair of 5" platform ankle boots (I'm not going anywhere, but you do kind-of need to keep up appearances around Charlotte).

When I arrive in the kitchen, Charlotte's already eagerly preparing our Christmas dinner- despite it being just the two of us, she's going the whole hog- turkey, stuffing, the works. She's also changed out of her church dress, but into a shorter, blue velvety dress similar to the one I wore yesterday. She is, of course, still wearing her heels.

"God, Charlotte," I begin in amazement, "how are we meant to eat all this?" Charlotte simply turns around and smiles, gesturing to me to start chopping vegetables, which I dutifully do.

"Sooo," she says cheerfully, changing the topic, "how do you like the bodysuit?" I think of my response carefully, to avoid hurting her feelings.

"Very, very sexy," I say with a wicked grin. "Gonna have to wear it when Paul's here next!" Charlotte giggles and turns back to her cooking.

"You know," Charlotte says with a chuckle, "Keith isn't here, so you don't have to wear THAT jumper..." I smirk- how did I know Charlotte would be forced to comment on it?

"I figure if I wear it today you can say I wore it and not have to lie to him," I retort with a grin. Charlotte chuckles as she places the turkey in the oven and turns to face me.

"I've got a feeling this is going to be the best Christmas ever!" Charlotte says with a smirk. As if on cue, the front doorbell rings. Charlotte doesn't move, instead unsubtly gesturing for me to answer it.

"Don't leave our guests out in the cold, Jay!" Charlotte says as she turns back to her cooking. Rolling my eyes playfully, I skip toward the front door and open it. As I see who's standing on our porch, though, I am overcome by a wave of raw emotion.

"M-Mum? Dad?" I stutter as I look into the faces of the two parents who'd so callously turned their backs on me mere days earlier.

"Merry Christmas, Jamie," my father says hesitantly. Mum, seeing I'm on the verge of tears, rushes forward and embraces me in a loving hug that I happily reciprocate.

"Oh my god," I breathe between sobs, "what are you guys doing here?"

"Christmas is a time for family," Charlotte says smugly from the kitchen doorway. It doesn't take me too long to figure out what's happened.

"YOU!" I yell at my BFF. "You had a hand in this, didn't you?"

"I may have," Charlotte says with her trademark smug smile. I immediately giggle and give her a tight, BFF-style hug before ushering my parents in out of the cold. Before too long, we're all in our living room opening the presents my parents brought for me.

"After our meeting earlier in the week your friend wouldn't stop calling us," Dad explains, his demeanour still slightly uneasy around me. "She pointed out- quite correctly- what an arse I'd been, that regardless of, um, lifestyle choice, you were still my- um- child. Regardless of what you choose, you're still my... child. And I'll always love you."

"Thanks, dad," I say uneasily, picking up a small, carefully wrapped box and unwrapping it. I gasp with joy as I see what's inside- a shiny silver necklace with a large sapphire embedded in the pendant.

"I picked that one out," dad says with a smile, carefully picking the chain out of the box and wrapping it around my neck.

"It's beautiful," I whisper, turning to face the man I'd barely seen in four years. We awkwardly move together before hugging for the first ever time as father and daughter.

"Just like its owner," mum chimes in, joining in the group hug. It's at point we all turn to see the giggling form of Charlotte watching us from the kitchen and suddenly my heart sinks. Standing here with my family- on Christmas Day, no less- just reminds me of the parents Charlotte no longer has.

"Come on," I whisper, beckoning Charlotte into the group hug. Charlotte hesitantly shakes her head.

"Nah," she says, still smiling a brave smile, "it's a family thing only."

"Well then as far as I'm concerned," I say with Charlotte's trademark authority, "you're no longer my BFF, you're my sister. Now come here!" Laughing a laugh of pure joy, Charlotte happily skips over and joins in the hug.

Christmas dinner goes better than any Christmas I ever had as James. Charlotte's food was amazing, of course- and I was relieved to find that my parents had included a new dress in amongst my presents so I finally had an excuse to change out of that infernal bodysuit!

A few hours later, we're all sat on the sofa watching Strictly Come Dancing when suddenly, my already perfect Christmas just gets even better.

"Someone's got a surprise caller," Charlotte teases as a knock comes from the door. Surprisingly, it's Charlotte herself who then immediately leaps up and answers the door. My jaw drops moments later when none other than my sexy boyfriend saunters through the door and makes a beeline straight for me.

"Hey, gorgeous!" Paul says with a wide, beaming grin on his face. I stand up and move over to him but pull back slightly as he leans in to kiss me.

"What's up?" Paul asks as I barely contain my laughter.

"Paul Gould," I giggle, "meet my parents!" I gesture toward mum and dad, whose faces are possibly more judgemental of Paul than they'd ever been of myself. I'm just glad I warned dad earlier that I was in a relationship with a man so all of his rage is directed at Paul instead of me!

"Oh, um, hello," Paul stammers, tell-tale nerves quickly spreading across his face. "Mr and Mrs Burke-"

"Travis!" Dad quickly corrects Paul as Charlotte and myself struggle to stifle our laughter.

"Mr and, um, Mrs Travis," Paul continues stammering, "um, merry Christmas?" Much to my surprise and Paul's immense relief, Dad simply smiles an exhausted-looking smile.

"Sit down," Dad says, predictably gesturing to the chair furthest away from where I was just sat.

The rest of the evening goes better than I could ever have dreamed. Mum and dad depart just after ten o'clock- offering Paul a lift about eight times, all of which he of course declined! The two of us end up in bed not long afterwards, locked in a passionate embrace. For the first time ever, I'm looking forward to Boxing Day even more than Christmas!

SEVEN AND A HALF MONTHS LATER...

"Let's just do this, okay?" Charlotte sighs as she wraps her arms around me and moves her body closer to mine. Nodding stoically, I take a deep breath and lean into my BFF, kissing her as deeply as I've ever kissed my boyfriend.

"Sixty seconds start now!" Paul laughs from behind me as I close my eyes and turn my head in toward Charlotte and away from the videophone that is inevitably recording my embarrassment. I should also point out that the only thing I- and, for that matter, Charlotte- is wearing is an impractically tight, long-sleeved shiny purple gymnastics leotard that's ridden up into a highly uncomfortable wedgie.

Why are we wearing such odd clothing? Well, it's August 2012, we live in London, and there's something going on here at the moment that's kind-of a big deal! To be more specific, it's the 7th of August, and tonight is the final of the artistic gymnastics competition. Keith, Paul, Charlotte and myself are celebrating... with a twister tournament. That myself and Charlotte just lost. Embarrassingly quickly.

"Thirty seconds," Paul says with a chuckle as my lips remained glued to Charlotte's, our lipstick mingling together and our cheeks burning with embarrassment. Virtually every night throughout the course of the games, we've either hosted or attended a party themed around one particular event- on Saturday, it was tennis, the day before we had a pool party (to represent swimming), we even had a Judo-themed party last week. Though our substitution of 'pillow fighting' for Judo wasn't particularly 'Olympic'.

This has been pretty much par for the course over the last few months. Ever since Charlotte's documentary was broadcast in February we've been hosting and attending parties like they were going out of fashion. Sometimes the parties are just for us & our boyfriends, like tonight, sometimes we play host to over 60 people.

Charlotte doesn't even need an excuse any more, though obviously she loves to throw a party around a theme (like our Olympic parties over the last few days). Following the success of our 'Pan Am' party (nicely contrasting the abject failure of the show itself) Charlotte, Kristie, Mary & myself have been doing the 'matching costumes' thing a lot. For Charlotte's 21st birthday in May we all dressed up as Las Vegas-inspired showgirls and performed a little routine for the amassed guests, which was fun, even if the costume (a very stretchy satin bodysuit, fishnet tights, bicep-length satin gloves and HUGE feathers) was by far the most ridiculous I'd ever worn! Paul was particularly pleased when Charlotte made a fuss out of him for his 23rd in March, and was especially pleased with the sexy waitress costume (shiny satin blouse, super-tight satin 'hobble' skirt) I and all the 'girlfriends' wore. Especially as I wore my sexiest lace lingerie underneath! In fact we always wear special 'service' costumes for the boys' birthdays- for Keith's 21st in February we wore Hooters uniforms (no, I wasn't allowed to wear a skirt instead of the shorts) and for Mary's boyfriend's birthday in May we broke out the Playboy Bunny costumes again. Charlotte's promised me something extra-special for my 21st next month- I can't wait!

Whilst it seems that I spend most of my time partying with Charlotte, I do find some time to be alone with Paul. Charlotte's travels for Spencer & Hall and Keith's studies up north (though next year will be his last) mean I have the house to myself quite a lot, which makes it a lot easier to spend the night with my sexy boyfriend! Over the last seven months we've grown a lot closer- not quite 'Charlotte & Keith' close, but in addition to the sex- which we've had ridiculous amounts of- we've also done proper 'couple' things, including a weekend in Barcelona this April just gone- looking around the city, watching a football game (Paul's idea, though it was an incredible atmosphere) and spending virtually every other second in each other's pants!

I've had other holidays throughout the year too- Australia in January was AMAZING. Spending a whole week in the middle of winter wearing nothing but bikinis, one-piece swimsuits, sarongs and floaty sundresses was every part the break from reality I needed after the crazy Christmas I'd had. And the tan got me a lot of modelling work from swimwear and underwear/lingerie catalogues in February!

Joshua's been keeping me very busy in that area, as per usual. I averaged almost four shoots per week over the course of spring- mostly fashion, but a lot of make-up and underwear as well. I've been doing fewer 'costume'-style shoots than when I first started, possibly as I'm gaining 'seniority' amongst the ranks of Joshua's models, I don't know. That didn't prevent Joshua from sending me along to another shoot for a PVC fetish clothing company, despite my protests. There I had my first run-in with things called 'Ballet Boots', boots designed to force your feet into an en pointe position (Beyonce wore a pair in a music video she did once, I think). They were every bit as uncomfortable and painful as you'd imagine, and I swore I'd never wear another pair as long as I lived, so naturally the following day I bought a pair for myself off of the internet and have had Paul take them off on several occasions!

"Fifteen seconds," my boyfriend chuckles as my embarrassment hits fever pitch and I feel my saliva begin to mix together with Charlotte's. "Hey Keith, we should have gone for two minutes, that was far too easy!" Paul only laughs louder as I flip the deep-purple coloured tip of my middle finger up at him.

It may seem like my life has been a case of work, sex and partying over the last few months but I have found time for myself as well. Ever since reconciling with my family I've visited them every weekend, and dad started giving me additional driving lessons as a way of bonding with me. It worked- I passed my test in June and am now the proud owner of a baby blue Renault Clio! I still practise ballet with Charlotte, though only once a week now, with both of us being extremely busy with our respective careers. I've improved a lot, though- I'm now as at ease walking and dancing en pointe as I am in heels or in bare feet. Our recital in April went perfectly, even though our bit was just eight minutes long and the audience was composed solely of the families of Ellen's students, we still received a standing ovation, and I had a photograph taken of me in my tutu with my parents that currently takes pride of place on my bedside table.

Looking back even on that photo it's amazing how much I've changed physically, too. I've been taking hormones for 18 months and those in the know have told me it'd be impossible to believe I was ever anything other than 100% female. My hips have widened slightly further and my waist has narrowed slightly too (though I did start wearing corsets again briefly earlier this year, which may have contributed). My skin is softer and smoother than most genetic females, and my face has taken on even more subtle feminine characteristics. Following my boob job in December I've had two more minor procedures done on them to keep them both the same size. I'm told I shouldn't need to have any more procedures done, though- and I won't need to buy a whole new collection of bras either! I'm thankful I've not had to have any further operations- not for another year and a half, anyway, which is when I have 'the' operation. Sometimes I actually find myself in two minds about that- my male genitals have shrunk so much some days I don't even bother wearing a vagina panty any more, a thong and a pair of tights is usually more than enough 'camouflage'. Obviously I'm wearing one now, underneath my leotard, but I honestly do believe I could get away without it. On the other hand, I do want to make love as a woman. I NEED to make love as a woman. Sure, anal sex provides orgasms by the bucketload, but deep down I know it's not the same.

The big news, though, is that I've been accepted onto an Open University Course this September, studying Business Administration! I've kept this a secret from Charlotte and the gang as I want to surprise them with this ahead of my 21st next month. My parents already know, and in typical fashion have already cleared a spot on their wall for my graduation photo!

"...And that's time!" Paul yells as Charlotte and I eagerly pull away from each other and dive into the welcoming arms of our respective boyfriends (who, in wearing plain T-shirts and shorts, haven't really got into the spirit of things). Still embarrassed from my forfeit, I give Paul a light, playful punch in the kidneys.

"That's for enjoying it too much," I say as Paul holds me tighter by way of apology.

"If you'd won, was there any way you'd have let me and Keith off the hook?" Paul asks, leadingly. For the record, their forfeit would have been to wear our leotards for the rest of the night.

"No," I sigh.

"...And would you have laughed your head off constantly?" Paul asks.

"...Yes," I confess as we crash down onto our sofa and snuggle up together. It doesn't take long for one of Paul's hands to find its way to my nearly-bare buttocks, and stay there for the rest of the night. We don't stay up much beyond 11pm- watching highlights from the gymnastics, some of which Charlotte and I try (and fail!) to recreate.

Before too long, the four of us found ourselves in bed- not together, obviously, Charlotte & Keith in their bed and me and Paul in mine- and with all the eagerness that had been beaming out of his eyes all evening, Paul quickly freed my body from the leotard that had been clinging to it as I freed his squirming penis from his shorts and expertly massaged it to full length. It didn't take long for Paul to find his way into my backside and finish the night by riding us both to the point of orgasm and beyond...

Paul and I both wake up just before 8AM and take turns in the shower. We would shower together, but I can't shower with the vagina panty in place and whilst he hasn't said anything explicitly, it's clear that Paul would prefer to pretend that the 'growth between my legs' didn't exist. As would I, for that matter. After eating breakfast (Charlotte and Keith are still in bed) we get dressed for the day ahead. Both of us have work today, but not quite the work you might expect.

Feeling in a particularly feminine mood following my 'encounter' with Charlotte last night, I decide to go for a 'pink' theme today. I start by putting on a thick layer of pink eyeshadow, followed by thick mascara and eyeliner, and finish up with a dark pink lipstick. I redo my nails the same colour as my lips, and spray on my sweetest-smelling perfume before I pick out my clothing for the day. Ensuring Paul's back is turned (I'm not wearing a vagina panty today, it's too hot) I slip into a tight, white halterneck thong bodysuit that shows off my body (and my cleavage!) beautifully but still breathes enough to ensure I won't be sat in a puddle of sweat all day. I tie my hair up into a high ponytail- which Paul normally sees as an invitation to come over and start kissing my neck, sadly for him the halterneck prevents that today!- and roll a pair of nude hold-up stockings up my legs (I'd prefer to be bare-legged, but sadly that isn't an option).

I stride over to my wardrobe, giggling as Paul gently holds me from behind and gets himself a handful of my left buttock, his pinkie finger gently stroking the thin strap of the thong nestled between my buttocks. I slowly extricate myself from Paul's arms and pick a cute pastel pink skirt suit out of my wardrobe and ease myself into it. The skirt is, obviously, a pencil skirt, but it's a short one, coming to about 4 inches above my knee. Enough to show plenty of leg, not enough to show plenty of stocking top! The jacket is fitted and accentuates my body beautifully when paired with the bodysuit. Once I've slipped my feet into a matching pair of 5" stilettos, put on a bracelet, two pairs of earrings and my designer sunglasses, all I need is a matching handbag and I'm ready to take on the world!

Paul, for his part, is wearing a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a pair of trainers.

"I still don't get why you have to be so over-dressed," Paul muses as we walk hand-in-hand to his car.

"This is Joshua we're talking about," I reply, referring (obviously) to my modelling agent, and technically my employer. "He never wears anything other than designer clothes, so you do need to keep up appearances around him." Paul simply looks as me with an unconvinced expression.

"Seriously," I continue as Paul takes us out of out driveway and onto the tourist-filled streets of London, "I went round to his house once for a meeting. 9:30pm on a Tuesday evening, he was still wearing his business suit."

"And still bouncing off the walls with energy, I take it?" Paul asks rhetorically.

"You know Joshua," I retort as we head further into the city. Unsurprisingly, when we arrive at the office, Joshua is already there and hard at work.

"Jamie!" Joshua greets me with a big hug as I enter the office and prepare to take my seat behind the reception desk. For my OU course it was recommended I get some work experience in an administration role, and Joshua was more than happy to let me do work experience for him- for free, obviously! So Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays I'm either sat at reception answering Joshua's phones for him or sorting out his extensive filing.

"Paul Gould!" Joshua beams as he sees my boyfriend enter the office after me. "When are you going to come and work for me?" Paul chuckles at Joshua impromptu job offer, much like he has every time the two of them meet.

"I've told you a million times," Paul says with a smirk, "fashion photography isn't my thing!"

"Make it your thing and we can make loads of money together!" Joshua insists. I simply chuckle as I place my handbag under my desk and switch on my computer.

"I'll think about it," Paul says, before leaning over my desk and giving me a lingering goodbye kiss. "See you later, gorgeous!"

"See you tomorrow," I grin as Paul heads back out to his car. He's up at a photoshoot in Milton Keynes all day so there's no chance of meeting up with him for lunch- not that Joshua gives me much time for lunch anyway!

Paul wasn't kidding when he said his photography style wasn't exactly compatible with Joshua's line of business- as I found out repeatedly over the last few months. Rather than being a fashion photographer or paparazzo, Paul's more of an 'artistic' photographer, specialising in fantasy settings, unrealistic stuff. Some of the more bizarre things I've found myself doing for him- obviously as his girlfriend, I'm expected to model for him- include being covered from head to toe in silver paint (with just the flimsiest of bikinis to preserve my modesty), dressed as a geisha- Paul's cousin is an amazing make-up artist, able to make me look convincingly Japanese even after having my whole face covered in white paint, dressed as a Victorian dominatrix (think full Victorian-style dress- including a ridiculously tight corset- only made out of leather and PVC), dressed as a 1950s housewife (including authentic fifties underwear) who was, of course, abducted by aliens, and dressed as a serious businesswoman, but wearing black pointe shoes and conducting all my work whilst performing ballet moves (not easy in a pencil skirt, believe me).

By far the weirdest shoot, however, was one where I was gradually transformed into a mermaid. Not overly strange in itself, you might think, but Paul had invested in extensive prosthetics that saw me gradually transformed past mermaid and into a completely non-human fish-like lifeform- and then immersed in water for a few video clips. I will admit that the effect was remarkable- the changes between pictures are so subtle that you can see the transformation taking place, but by the end you can barely recognise that the creature is even human, let alone that it's me under the make-up. I just wish Paul's cousin's make-up hadn't been waterproof and therefore taken an age to remove!

Paul also does video shoots from time to time, though he usually saves that for 'personal shoots' involving just the two of us- by which I of course mean sex tapes. Paul's said his favourite one is the one where I spend five minutes struggling into a skin-tight latex catsuit after smearing my entire body with lubricant, which I follow up by wrapping a torturously tight corset around my waist and tying on my aforementioned pair of ballet boots. I then spend a few minutes tottering around before sinking to my knees and giving Paul the longest blowjob I could before I started having difficulty breathing (both from the corset and the 'blockage')! Hell, even I find that one highly erotic.

The day passes quickly, fortunately. The work isn't hard- mostly just booking appointments and filing- but the difficult thing is dealing with the attitudes of the other models. Every one- male or female- who comes in for a meeting with Joshua takes a look at me sitting behind the reception desk and immediately adopts a smug, superior front, the assumption being that I'm unable to get any modelling jobs and need Joshua to give me additional work to get money to live. Never mind the fact that I'm wearing very expensive designer clothes, make-up and jewellery, never mind the fact that, as one of Joshua's longest-serving models, I get first dibs on most jobs, never mind the fact that it's known I live with Charlotte, a bona fide celebrity and millionaire, I'm just seen as 'poor Jamie who needs the money'. I don't mind- if there's one thing my three years in the unemployment queue taught me, it's that if you're patient, you WILL have the last laugh.

The office shuts, as always, at 5:30pm and I catch a taxi back home where Charlotte and Keith are already waiting in the lounge. I head upstairs and strip off my suit in private- obviously they can't know I'm doing work experience until I tell them about my course- and change into a comfortable cotton bra and thong set before pulling on a pink t-shirt, a denim miniskirt and (of course) a pair of Ugg Boots.

"One of these days," Charlotte says suspiciously as I park myself down on my sofa, "you are going to have to tell me where you disappear to all day. If I didn't know any better I'd almost be tempted to think you found yourself employment..."

"No party tonight?" I ask, huddling my silky smooth legs under my body as I check facebook on my phone.

"Nothing really on tonight at the games," Charlotte explains, "and I figure we'd better get the leotards washed before Saturday's party. Beach volleyball tomorrow, though!"

"Did you say that was a daytime one?" I ask, still mostly engrossed in the latest messages Paul's posted on my facebook wall.

"Yeah," Charlotte explains. "Also known as 'Keith mans the barbecue all day and keeps us all fed'." Charlotte and I chuckle as Keith playfully rolls his eyes and squeezes Charlotte a little tighter.

"...And if it's volleyball I'd better book in for a nail appointment at the salon," I sigh.

"Already taken care of," Charlotte says smugly. "12pm on Friday good for you?" Ooh, you sneaky cow, I think to myself- Charlotte's obviously been paying attention and knows that Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays are the days I work for Joshua.

"Um," I stall, desperately trying to think of a retort, "didn't you say it was a wrestling party on Friday? Seems pointless to have our nails professionally done only to have them wrecked again 12 hours later."

"But the point is," Charlotte argues, "they will get wrecked tomorrow."

"Yes," I reply, "but surely we can patch them up on Friday and get them redone professionally on Saturday?"

"Okay, if you insist," Charlotte says indignantly, "I guess I'll just have to treat someone else to a salon visit on Friday."

"I guess you will," I say despite myself, inwardly grimacing the second the words leave my mouth.

"Enough," Keith says, assuming the by now all-too-familiar role of peacekeeper. Charlotte and I don't fall out often, but when we do- usually over something trivial like when to have our nails done- and Keith's not around, we can go four hours, sometimes even days without talking to each other. Sometimes I'm amazed by just how stubborn Charlotte can be. "Charlie, can I have a word?" Inwardly, I smugly smile- Keith's scared enough of Charlotte that when I'm in the right- which I usually am- he won't side with me openly, but will take Charlotte aside and explain to her privately why I'm right. Sure enough, ten minutes later Charlotte and Keith return and she curls back up on her sofa with a frown on her face.

"I'll call the salon and get us booked in on Saturday," Charlotte mumbles. Needless to say, the rest of the evening passes in near-silence before we all head off to bed at around 10:30pm.

I'm awoken at 8:15 the following morning by my phone, but for once, it's not the alarm that rouses me- I can immediately tell by the ringtone that it's my boyfriend on the other end of the line. I smile and brush the sleepiness out of my eyes before answering my phone.

"Do you know what time it is?" I complain with mock-tiredness. "It takes a lot to get a model out of her bed this early..."

"How about that model's sexy photographer boyfriend in just a pair of swimming shorts?" Paul responds with a smirk. Curious, I pull on a light dressing gown and pad into the guest bedroom for a better view of our outdoor pool. Sure enough, Paul's stretched out on one of the sun loungers with only a pair of sunglasses and a pair of multi-coloured shorts to preserve his dignity. I can't help but giggle as he waves at me.

"Charlotte demanded I help her set up for the party this afternoon," Paul explains. "She didn't say how much I had to help, so..."

"I'll be right down," I say, still giggling. I head back into my room and change into a fresh vagina panty before pulling on a plain, tight black one-piece swimsuit. If I wear a bikini- which would have been my first choice- the chlorine in the water would get to the vagina panty more easily and wreck it, and I can't not wear one if I'm meeting with Paul.

Knowing I'm going to end up in the pool, I decide not to bother with any make-up, and I tie my hair back into a tight plait before heading out into our back garden, where Paul is off his sun lounger and ready to greet me with a long, deep kiss.

"Missed you yesterday," Paul says softly.

"I missed you too," I confess quietly as Paul holds me close to him.

"Well, you've got me for four whole days now!" Paul enthuses as I giggle and cuddle him. "Glad you're in your swimsuit!" Paul chuckles as he scoops me up into his arms and jumps the both of us into the pool. I yelp a little as I briefly dip underwater before chuckling along with Paul.

We spend the next half hour swimming and making out in the pool- Paul even lowering the top half of my swimsuit at one point to play with my breasts- before Charlotte loudly coughs, announcing her arrival.

"You know, Paul," she says indignantly, "when I asked you to come round I'm sure I added 'to help set up the barbecue', not 'to mess around in the pool with your girlfriend all day'."

"Oh come on," I jokingly plead, "we haven't seen each other in almost 24 hours!" Charlotte just giggles as Paul and I pout at her, before dropping two large beach towels at the side of the pool.

"Get dried, get showered, get dressed and get down here to help!" Charlotte insists as Paul and I haul ourselves out of the pool, drying ourselves on Charlotte's towels. We hold hands all the way back up to my bedroom where Paul strips out of his shorts and heads into the shower first, shortly followed by myself (still wearing my swimsuit), dropping to my knees in the shower and using my mouth to, ahem, 'ensure his penis is clean'. Once Paul is done (in more ways than one) he steps out of the shower, allowing me to strip off my swimsuit and vagina panty and get cleaned myself. Once I've dried myself off and blow-dried my hair, I head back into my bedroom, pick out a fresh vagina panty and, whilst fighting off Paul's attempts to fondle my bare breasts, change into the volleyball bikini Charlotte had made for our 'team'. After fixing my make-up- just a small amount today, given the physical activity we'll be doing later- I tie my hair back into the same plait it was in earlier, throw a short baby blue sundress over myself and pull on my favourite pair of girly pink trainers. Linking hands again with Paul- who's decked out in just a t-shirt, shorts and a pair of sandals- we head downstairs to the patio where Keith and Charlotte are already waiting for us, Keith in his shorts & t-shirt and Charlotte wearing just her bikini & sparkly trainers.

The party goes well, as have all of our Olympic parties- about 24 people drop by in the end, meaning Keith and Paul spend most of the morning and afternoon ensuring everyone's kept topped up with a constant supply of food. Paul, of course, had to make a comment that the hot dog he gave me wasn't my first 'sausage' of the day, and even though we've been going out for almost eight months, he still earned a foul look from Keith. He- by which I mean Keith- is so over-protective of me. He even texted me whilst me and Paul were in Barcelona, claiming it was Charlotte who put him up to it when I know for a fact he was at university at the time.

The party tapers off just after 5pm. We'd long since run out of meat for the barbecue and our plans for a volleyball tournament fell a little flat after about two games- it was too hot for playing volleyball anyway and our 'beach' was really just our back garden so we simply retired to the nearest sun lounger instead. It should also go without saying that Charlotte and I lost our first match fairly conclusively, hence why the enthusiasm for the tournament went straight out the window.

"If we're going to have a wrestling party tomorrow," I complain, reclining on one of our sun loungers, "can we at least have the air conditioning on?"

"We will, I promise," Charlotte concedes, letting her arms flop down the sides of her lounger. "At least there's only three more days..."

"Are you doing any parties for the paralympics?" Paul jokes. Charlotte and I just look at each other and muster up just enough energy to tip Paul back out of his sun lounger and into the pool!

We stay outside until way past 9pm, the four of us just listening to music and drinking blissfully cold, blissfully alcoholic beverages. You're probably wondering why neither Krystie nor Mary hung around after the party ended- well... That's a complicated story.

Remember at Christmas, when Charlotte gave me the use of Spencer & Hall's facilities to make my 2013 calendar? Remember also a couple of days earlier when I agreed to team up with Krystie? Turns out those two things were kinda a little bit... incompatible.

In what was probably the worst dilemma I've faced since becoming Jamie-Lee I had to decide between hurting my BFF's feelings or hurting the closest friend I had who didn't know my secret (Keith excepted, of course). The fact that I'm sitting in the Sun what Charlotte and not Krystie should tell you what I chose. Ever since, Krystie and I have been... well, distant isn't really the word. In fact, Krystie's been outright hostile to me on several occasions. Mary helped to play peacemaker- hence why the two of them still attend our parties- but Krystie's made no secret how she feels about myself and Charlotte. Charlotte, of course, tolerates it because she sees it as Krystie needing her more than she needs them- and let's face it, she's probably right.

To make matters worse? A couple of months ago Joshua signed Krystie to her books. It turns out that she'd been taking nude modelling jobs for various websites and her old agent didn't really approve of it. I put in a good word for her with Joshua, which I hoped would help to mend bridges- but then, of course, I started doing intern work. Of all the models who have made fun of me for working behind the desk at Joshua's office, none have been more vicious and catty than Krystie. I'm guessing the only reason she hasn't told Charlotte is either because she assumes Charlotte already knows, or she can't stand the thought of gossiping with her the way we used to gossip together.

Fortunately, I always have my BFF to fall back on, and my sexy boyfriend to rely on whenever I get too down. It should really go without saying that after turning into bed just after 10pm Paul and I find ourselves in bed, my face buried deep into his crotch, motivating him to ride me to orgasm after orgasm...

Friday is a work day for me so I wake up at 7:45, quickly run through my morning routine, put my make-up on, repaint my finger and toenails a dark pink and get dressed for the day. Joshua has a 'business casual' dress policy for Fridays. For Joshua that just means taking his jacket off whilst at work, but I use the policy to flex my fashion muscles a little. Foregoing a bra & thong (though I don a vagina panty as usual as I'll be meeting Paul later), I pull a very clingy, long-sleeved dark blue leotard up my body. It has a panel in the front to support my breasts and show a healthy amount of cleavage. Counting yesterday's swimsuit, it's actually the sixth day in a row I've worn a leotard-style garment (and I've not even had any ballet lessons, as Ellen's away teaching at her ballet summer camp), but this is an outfit I'd planned weeks in advance, and this leotard is so sexy I can't not wear it! As the leotard is full-bottomed instead of a thong, I pull on an ankle-length, very slender (but still nice and loose) grey skirt, held up by a thin black belt. A pair of strappy 5" cork wedges go on my feet (I don't bother with any hosiery- it's far too hot), two dangly pairs of earrings go in my lobes, one of my favourite perfumes and some of my favourite bracelets and necklaces complete my look for the day. I tie my hair into a tight (but playful-looking) updo, which of course prompts Paul to rush over and pepper my neck with kisses! Grabbing my handbag, I head downstairs, making sure not to wake Charlotte or Keith!

As always, Paul drives me to work, fends off Joshua's relentless job offers and gives me a long, lingering kiss (dipping me backwards a bit!) before heading off for the day. I settle down behind my desk and rpepare to start the day when I notice the name in the 10:30 slot of Joshua's diary- Krystie Fullerton.

The next hour and a half pass apprehensively as I concentrate on my work, arranging appointments for models and calling around companies trying to find work for said models, when sure enough, at 10:28am, a familiar brown-haired figure walks through the door, wearing an inexpensive grey skirt suit.

"I'll let Joshua know you're here," I say stoically to Krystie as she takes a seat across the room from my desk and begins flicking through the magazines, not even looking in my direction. I quietly roll my eyes as the next two minutes drag by before Joshua appears at the door to his office and beckons Krystie inside.

"Jamie- you too," he says in my direction, confusing me slightly. But, he is still my boss, so I dutifully rise from my chair and follow Joshua and Krystie into the office. I sit down next to Krystie opposite Joshua's desk, ensuring my skirt remains straight as I cross my left leg over my right.

"Don't think I haven't noticed what's been going on these last few months," Joshua admonishes before he's even fully sat down in his chair. "I've known models far too long to know that something's up. I've also known the two of you long enough to know WHAT's up."

"I'm not the one who went back on my word," Krystie retorts spitefully.

"And what am I supposed to have done?" I snap back, not disguising the bitterness in my voice. "Tell my best friend where to shove her Christmas present?"

"Didn't we agree to make our calendar together BEFORE Christmas?" Krystie asks incredulously.

"Ladies!" Joshua sharply interjects. "You've had this argument a hundred times! Each time it ends with you growing further and further apart. It can't go on."

"Especially not if Miss Burke goes full time as your secretary," Krystie mockingly agrees, fully earning herself a death glare from me.

"There's a reason Jamie's been working for me," Joshua says with a smirk on his face. "A reason she hasn't even told Charlotte yet. Jamie, go ahead." I'm apprehensive- armed with this knowledge, Krystie could easily go behind my back and tell Charlotte my secret. Then again, it could show her that she can fully trust me again. Knowing I have no choice with both Krystie and Joshua staring intently at me, I take a deep breath.

"I'm going to be studying business administration at the Open University," I confess, "starting next month. Joshua's letting me work here to get some work experience."

"Jamie," Krystie says with a confused look on her face, "That is so cool! I've always wanted to be a student, go to student parties, you know?"

"Well," I say with a smile creeping onto my face, "I won't be that kind of student, I'll be doing all my studying from home, attending lectures online..."

"Watching those creepy bearded guys on BBC2?" Joshua interjects with a laugh.

"Do they still have those?" Krystie asks with genuine curiosity. "I thought they got rid of them ages ago?"

"Yeah, it's all online now," I confirm with a smile.

"I can't believe you haven't told Charlotte yet!" Krystie says, a wide, familiar grin now firmly attached to her face.

"Well, you know what she'd say," I reply, slipping fully back into 'gossip' mode. "She'd be all like 'isn't modelling good enough for you' and so on. I really don't think she ever thinks more than a couple of weeks ahead."

"Tell me about it," Krystie says, and we both giggle together for the first time in ages, before Joshua makes his presence known with a cough. I immediately realise my faux pas.

"Oh god, I'm sorry," I say, still giggling, "I'm sure you didn't ask Krystie here just to gossip with me!"

"Well, now that you mention it," Joshua says with a wide grin... Krystie and I simply giggle further at Joshua's set-up. For all his bombast, he really is one of the cleverest people I know.

"So," I say to my renewed friend with a grin on my pink lips, "lunch, usual time and place?"

"Forget that!" Joshua laughs, "Take the rest of the day off, I can answer my own phones for once!"

"A-Are you sure?" I ask hesitantly.

"Go!" Joshua commands, "Before I change my mind!"

"Thank you," Krystie and I say simultaneously. "Thank you so much!" As I log off my computer and grab my handbag Krystie is already gossiping like the two of us has never fallen out.

"I guess I couldn't really blame you," she says as she grabs her own bag and checks her dark grey-coloured nails. "I mean, if I'd been given the use of Spencer & Hall's facilities I'd snap them up without a second thought."

"I promise I'll tell you a bit ahead of time if anything like this happens again," I say, desperately trying to keep the situation sweet. "Anyway, you didn't answer my question- lunch, usual time and place?"

"Shopping first," Krystie says with a grin, "you HAVE to tell me where you got that skirt. And those wedges. And that leotard too, actually." I giggle as the two of us leave the office, close friends once again.

The two of us- along with Mary and Paul (who'd given us a lift after accompanying us on our shopping trip)- arrive back home just after 2:30pm to help Keith & Charlotte prepare for tonight's Olympic party. Sure enough, Krystie's carrying three shopping bags with my entire outfit (and a bit more) in them whilst I have just the two bags which contain two pairs of stilettos and a cute strapless summer dress. Charlotte and Krystie, of course, immediately get on like a house on fire as if there'd never been a falling out between the two of them. She's not overtly letting it on, but you can easily tell Krystie is just LOVING knowing something Charlotte doesn't.

Tonight's party is 'wrestling', so our costumes for tonight are skin-tight unitards.

...At least, that's what we girls are wearing. It turns out Paul & Keith share a love of WWF wrestling (don't ask me why, I can't even begin to explain it) so while me, Charlotte, Krystie & Mary are dressed properly, our boyfriends (it's just the eight of us tonight) have all come as long-haired meatheads in musclesuits. This is an especially silly look for Paul, who's (normally) 6 feet tall and just under 9 stone! Keith is pulling off the look well though, even if I don't get why he's wearing a comically huge fake nose.

As you may have gathered, it is just the eight of us tonight. As with before, there will be a competition- Keith had wanted us to watch the latest WWF pay-per-view but fortunately girl power (and common sense!) prevailed so us four girls are going to have an arm wrestling tournament instead- which let's face it, is going to be much more entertaining for the boys!

I surely don't need to explain by now what happens at the party. We chat, we drink, Charlotte and I lose the tournament embarrassingly quickly (Krystie eventually wins, much to her obvious delight) and our guests depart just after 10:30pm. Paul, of course, insists on carrying me upstairs to bed in a fireman's carry whilst still wearing his musclesuit, though he's quick to strip it off once my hand finds its way inside his trunks!

With the exception of a half hand- half blowjob that's all the sex we have for the night, as we've quickly established a tradition of waking up on Saturday morning and having so much sex that we almost fall straight back to sleep again! To give you an idea of what I mean, we're awake at 7:30am and only get out of bed at 9:30 because Charlotte's booked an appointment for us (me & Charlotte, not me & Paul, obviously) at the salon. After showering and changing my vagina panty I slip into a fresh bra & thong set and pull on a light, short-sleeved patterned dress. I initially pair this with a pair of light black tights, but I make the 'mistake' of straightening and adjusting my tights within arm's reach of Paul, so naturally the tights inevitably end up in a pile of my bedroom floor whilst Paul rides me to yet another orgasm! I eventually decide to go bare-legged and wear a pair of flat sandals with the dress, as well as my jewellery and a matching handbag, of course. As we're going to the salon I only apply a light layer of make-up.

Charlotte and I head out just after 10am (the boys are going to their families for the weekend- tonight's party excepted, of course) and the instant we sit down in the taxi Charlotte starts interrogating me about my reconciliation with Krystie.

"So..." Charlotte begins in her trademark inquisitive tone, "I noticed you and little Miss Fullerton getting on like a house on fire last night for the first time in, oh, ages?"

"We had a little spat, we got over it," I explain with a smug Charlotte-like grin on my face.

"'Little spats' don't last for seven months!" Charlotte exclaims, getting obviously agitated that there's something she's being kept in the dark about. "What exactly did you say or do to make it up to her?"

"That's between me and her," I say, my grin getting wider. Charlotte opens her mouth to respond but thinks better of it- every time she's tried to 'pull rank' with me in an argument I always end up calling her 'dad', agitating her further and causing her to pout and sulk, so by now she's learned to put up and shut up whenever I get the upper hand!

Charlotte and I stay at the salon until almost 2pm. We have our eyebrows reshaped to perfection and filled in, as well as thick black eyeliner and a light purple/silver eyeshadow (to match tonight's costumes). I opt for a light pink lipstick, whilst Charlotte picks out a hot pink colour. We both have long french manicures put on the end of our long, slender fingers and we eventually leave the salon feeling- no, being¬- the most beautiful girls in the world.

When we get home I'm immediately put to work by Charlotte as we get ready for tonight's party. It's the last one for now (Charlotte & Keith have tickets to the closing ceremony tomorrow) and the theme is 'Rhythmic Gymnastics', so we'll be back in our freshly-laundered leotards later tonight. Rather than a tournament, Charlotte and Mary (who was an amateur gymnast when she was younger and actually represented Northern Ireland in competitions more than once) have put together a routine that we'll be performing for our guests later on tonight. I'm thankful that months of ballet have made me a lot more flexible than I used to be- if I'd tried doing the splits 18 months ago the results would have been very painful!

At about 5:30 we head upstairs and change into our skin-tight purple leotards, and I tie my long blonde hair back into a high ponytail, held in place with a sparkly purple scrunchie. Obviously, I take off all my jewellery- I don't want to do a cartwheel and hang myself with my necklace- but I touch up my professionally-applied makeup a little to ensure it remains perfect throughout the night. I pull on a flared black miniskirt and a pair of nude-coloured flats to cover up before heading downstairs where Charlotte is waiting, dressed identically except for wearing a pair of red booty shorts instead of a skirt (and her hair isn't long enough to tie into a ponytail).

"Remember your moves for the routine?" Charlotte asks worriedly.

"Yes, yes, yes," I reassure her. "You only drilled it into me a hundred times over the last few weeks. I still don't get why I, of all people, am the one doing the splits at the end."

"You have the longest hair of all of us," Charlotte says by way of explanation. I simply roll my eyes and hang around with Charlotte, waiting for the guests to arrive. Inevitably, Paul and Keith arrive first and immediately make a beeline for their respective girlfriends, Paul in particular eager to get a feel of my soft skin encased in skintight lycra. Before too long our living room is full of people eating, drinking and dancing. Charlotte and I are particularly gratified that most people are dressing up to match the theme- most of the girls (and a couple of guys!) are wearing shiny, stretchy gymnastics leotards of all designs (though obviously none clash with our little 'troupe').

It isn't long before Paul's called away for bartender duties. When Charlotte learned that he was the head student barman during his university days she's been relying on him more and more for his cocktail mixing prowess. With Charlotte ordering him around (not that he seems to mind too much) and Krystie and Mary dancing with their respective boyfriends, I make my way over to where Keith is chatting to a few friends, hoping to elicit some attention from him. When I arrive, however, he's deep in the middle of a conversation that immediately makes my ears burn.

"...lucky, living with two of the sexiest girls in the country," Keith's friend Tom teases.

"I don't know what you mean," Keith says, genuinely confused by Tom's remark.

"Charlotte & Jamie," Tom clarifies. "Are you seriously telling me you haven't at least THOUGHT about a threesome with them both?"

"Jamie!?" Keith says incredulously, causing my heart to crack a little. "No, no way!"

"What?" Tom asks with disbelief. "How can you not find Jamie attractive? She looks almost identical to Charlotte, only a little less... supermodelly." I should be offended that the guys are talking about me the same way they would a page-three girl, but- and call me shallow- it's always flattering to hear someone pay me a compliment.

"Okay, she's not bad," Keith concedes, "but if Charlotte's a 10- which she is- Jamie's at most a- a- ...3." My jaw drops and my heart finally breaks at the callous dismissal of me by the man I've adored from afar for so, so long. Three!?!? How can he possibly say three!?

I take a moment to compose myself before marching back to our temporary bar. Three!? I'll show him who's a three...

"I need to borrow my boyfriend for a few minutes," I announce to Charlotte, not giving her the opportunity to complain as I march Paul out of the party area and up to my bedroom.

"Jamie, what's up?" Paul asks confusedly. "I'm kinda in demand down there..."

"Girlfriend privileges," I explain as I close the door to my room, fling off my skirt and immediately launch myself at him, pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss and dragging him over to the bed.

"Okay," Paul says, catching on to what I mean by 'girlfriend privileges'. "You are wearing your latex thing, right?"

"I'm wearing a skin-tight leotard in a room full of other people," I explain, trying not to be too condescending. "Yes, I'm wearing my 'latex thing'." Paul pauses as I finish my sentence, suddenly remembering something.

"Ah, speaking of latex things," Paul mumbles as my hand reaches his groin and begins to work its magic, "I kinda, sorta don't have any condoms with me." I simply stare at Paul with disappointment etched all over my face.

"Oh come on," he says defensively, "I wasn't spending the night and I didn't realise that, well, 'this' was going to happen." I tighten my grip on his penis- not to painful levels, but to 'I mean business' levels- and begin rhythmically massaging it.

"We don't need a condom," I say, stripping off my leotard with one hand whilst continuing to masturbate Paul with the other.

"...And you know I can't get the lube we use on my skin," Paul argues, reminding me of the time he tested the solution on his forearm and ended up scratching it so much he almost needed hospital treatment.

"We don't need lube either," I say confidently, pulling off my leotard completely and gently leading Paul into a sitting position on the side of my bed. Making sure the strap of my vagina panty won't be an obstruction, I slowly lower myself onto the glistening head of Paul's penis.

Previously when we'd made love, it had always been with the use of a condom and some lubricant. Sure, it had been erotic in the extreme, but it had always been kind of... methodical. 'Clean', even. But this, this feeling as Paul slipped deeper inside me, this was different. It was hot- both metaphorically and literally- passionate, steamy.

Paul's yells in my ear tell me he feels the exact same way, and before too long we simultaneously orgasm, which for me includes the additional feeling of Paul's sticky semen splashing inside of me. We both gasp as the orgasmic feeling subsides and Paul withdraws his flaccid- but still red-hot- penis from my backside with a slimy 'pop'.

"Uhhhh..." Paul sighs as he lays back on my bed. "We need to do that more often."

"Damn right we do," I giggle as I grab a tissue and wipe Paul's penis clean and stuff it back in his pants. "You'd better get back downstairs, don't want to make it TOO obvious what we were just doing."

"Sure thing," he says, caressing my sweaty, naked body and giving me a lingering kiss before heading back down to the party. I stand there for a second after Paul leaves, stretching the sexual tension out of my joints before I feel a strange warm feeling trickling down my thigh. Instantly realising what's happened, I grab another tissue to wipe Paul's juices off my thigh and make a point of thoroughly cleaning it before putting my leotard back on. I head to my bathroom to 'empty' myself when my plans are thwarted by a knock on my door.

"Jamie!" Charlotte yells impatiently. "Showtime!" This is not good news- I can hardly go downstairs and do a gymnastics routine in a skintight leotard with my boyfriend's payload seeping out of my backside. I quickly have the brainwave of plugging my backside with something like a tampon- except obviously, I don't own any tampons- what would I need them for, after all- and I can't ask Charlotte for one without raising too many questions, such as 'what would I need it for'. Dammit, I think to myself, why couldn't she have sent Krystie or Mary up to get me?

"Gimme a minute," I yell to my BFF, desperately trying to stall for time whilst I figure something out.

"What's keeping you?" Charlotte asks, turning my door handle.

"Nononononono," I panic, rushing to my door, clenching my buttocks in a sped-up mince to prevent me from 'dripping' over the carpet any more. "I'm, uh, I'm undressed. Just been to the toilet, um, didn't want to have to need to go mid-performance!"

"Well get your leotard back on and get downstairs!" Charlotte commands, apparently (hopefully) buying my excuse. I can't do the performance whilst clenching my buttocks and I certainly can't let a stain appear on my backside mid-routine. With no other options, I head into my bathroom, pick out my smallest butt plug and slide it into place. The flared end shouldn't show too much of an outline on the seat of my leotard unless you look really closely, and it's small enough that it won't interfere with the routine too much. And if it does, well, everyone's been drinking so hopefully they're not expecting much.

I squeeze my body back into my already-sweaty leotard- not the most pleasant experience of the night- and pull my skirt back on, hoping that any form of cover-up will help. I exit my room and present myself to my agitated BFF.

"Lose the skirt," Charlotte commands, herself already clad in just her leotard. Rolling my eyes, I strip my skirt straight back off and toss it back into my room. Nervously, I follow my identically-clothed BFF into the main room, where Charlotte, Krystie, Mary and myself prepare to pull of our routine. I'm lucky that Charlotte and Mary will be doing most of the 'heavy lifting'- the cartwheels and so forth- whilst I have a brief routine with a hula hoop and Krystie with a ribbon. Of course, part of my routine had to include turning round, bending over and shaking my booty for the crowd- I think I'm just going to conveniently 'forget' that part and dance around with the hoop freestyle for a bit. Charlotte will be pissed off, but it's not like anyone else will care too much, hopefully.

I maintain my confident pout as I step out into the room of eager onlookers and pose with my hoop whilst Charlotte and Mary do their thing. Soon enough, it's my turn, and I run through my moves almost balletically until it comes to my 'twerking' bit. Feeling Charlotte's stare burning into the back of my skull, I turn my back to the eager crowd, but instead of bending over, I follow-through on my plan of improvising and pull the hoop over my head, hula-hooping for a bit to the delight of the watching partygoers. Hopefully, if I draw attention to my hips, it'll be less obvious that there's something jammed in my backside. Charlotte's unhappy at first, but her glare softens into a disapproving smile as my hula-hooping wins fans. A mere 20 seconds later, I've finished my routine and handed over to Krystie.

Once she's done, all we need to do is finish- Mary jumps into Krystie & Charlotte's arms and is lifted high above their heads whilst I simultaneously drop into a straddle split in front of them. We pull this off flawlessly, even if it feels like I'm simultaneously forcing the plug out and driving it deeper into my backside. Once our applause subsides, I pull my legs round into a cross-legged position, helping to keep the plug in place, as Paul skips over and gives me a quick kiss.

"You were awesome," my boyfriend gushes as he wraps his hand around my waist. My smile at his touch quickly turns to confusion, however, as his hand slips down to my buttocks. I let out a small yelp as he pushes down on the flared end of the plug currently nestled in my backside.

"Thought so," Paul says cheekily, flashing me a quick wink. "Our secret, huh?"

"Yes," I say indignantly, "and it stays that way!"

Needless to say, I'm stuck in the party for the rest of the night, unable to get away even for a second. Fortunately I have Paul's hand covering my backside for the duration so there's not even a hint of the plug showing through my leotard- and whenever Paul excuses himself I immediately park myself on the nearest chair- but by the time the partygoers leave just after 1am I'm in near-agony from having the plug inserted for so long. When Charlotte and Keith decide to put off the tidying up to the following morning, it's all I can do not to hug the both of them. I make my excuses and immediately retreat to my bedroom where I almost cry with relief as I strip off my now sweat-drenched leotard and slide the plug out of my backside, sterilising it in a cup of boiling water before spending the next ten minutes sat on the toilet as I empty myself.

I'm asleep pretty much the second my head hits the pillow, but unsurprisingly, I'm awakened at 7:45 the following morning by Charlotte's now-traditional knock on my bedroom door.

"How on Earth can you be up and about at this time after last night?" I half-shout half-yawn at my BFF as she rouses me from my slumber.

"Shall I take that as a 'no', then?" Charlotte coolly asks.

"Let me put it to you this way- I'm already asleep again," I reply, driving my head into my pillow.

"We won't be back before you leave and will probably be gone before you get back," Keith says mercifully softly, "so have a good time at your parents'."

"Will do," I say, gathering my long blonde hair behind me and dozing off to sleep again. I'm only asleep for another hour before my alarm clock rouses me from my slumber. As you may have inferred from Keith, Sunday is the day I regularly go and visit my parents. Ever since we were reunited at Christmas we've set aside the day as our 'family time'. Dad even allowed Paul to attend for the first time a couple of months ago so he'll be picking me up and driving me there, which is fortunate as it'll give me the opportunity to talk to him about what happened last night.

In the meantime, I have a morning routine to follow. My shower and pills are followed by my make-up for the day- a very simple yet classic look, nothing too overt. I pull on a clean white bra & thong set and a pair of patterned brown tights, followed with a stretchy knee-length black skirt and a long-sleeved pink top. I opt for a pair of cute black ballet flats instead of heels today, figuring that as I won't see Charlotte at any point I can treat myself to a day out of them. I complete my look with two gold studs in each ear and the necklace my parents bought me for Christmas, before grabbing my bag and heading downstairs to where Paul is already waiting to pick me up.

"Hey," my sexy boyfriend greets me with a lingering kiss as I slide into the passenger seat of his Toyota. Naturally, before we set off, he 'accidentally' grabs my nylon-covered thigh instead of his handbrake, spending a few seconds playing with the patterns on my tights.

"Handbrake's closer to you," I tease as Paul tickles my legs through the tights. "What is it with guys and tights anyway? If I go out bare-legged or wearing nude hose I don't get half the stares if I'm wearing darker tights."

"I've told you before," Paul says, releasing his grip on my legs and driving out of our driveway, "it's the fact that they're in direct contact with your crotch. If I touch your legs, I'm touching something that's touching your lady area, so in a roundabout way, I'm touching your lady area."

"That's not the case if I'm wearing stockings, though," I say, pointing out the flaw in Paul's logic.

"Are you really arguing that stockings AREN'T sexy?" Paul retorts.

"Meh, I guess you have a point," I say with a smirk as we pull up to a red light and Paul grabs my knee again.

"Is that as good for you as it is for me?" Paul asks in a deep faux-American voice.

"Yes," I breathe orgasmically in an equally fake American accent, "yes!"

"Okay, that's enough remote third base for now," Paul says, gradually drifting his accent back to normal. Taking a deep breath, I broach the topic of our 'encounter' last night.

"On the topic of sex," I begin hesitantly, "what we-"

"Did last night?" Paul finishes my sentence. "You said at the time you wanted more. And I'm up for that if you are, but I'm sensing this is about more than just uncovered body parts, right?"

"Yeah," I say, trying to keep my confused emotions in check. "I mean it- I saw it as a new level for our relationship."

"I... kinda did too," Paul says. Naturally, there's one word in that sentence that stands out above of all the rest.

"'Kinda'?" I ask, trying to hide the disappointment in my voice.

"Okay, okay, it was a new level," Paul says, "but- and I know you want me to be honest- it wasn't as big a step-up as, say, our first holiday together."

"You do know you're the only guy I've ever had sex with, right?" I ask hesitantly, trying to get Paul to realise the importance of what I'm saying.

"I haven't forgotten," Paul responds quietly.

"...And I know I'm not the only girl you've ever had sex with," I add, sparing Paul the discomfort of having to skirt around the topic. "Or unprotected sex, for that matter."

"What happened in the past doesn't matter," Paul says firmly. "You're the only girl I want to be with. End of." I simply smile at the handsome, straightforward man.

"Thank you," I whisper quietly. "I just- I guess I just wanted you to know what a big deal it was for me." Paul simply smiles at me as we slowly make our way through London's streets to my parents' house.

"Jamie!" Mum greets me with a wide grin and a big hug as she answers the door. "I love your tights!"

"Thanks!" I reply with an equally wide grin as Dad gives me his customary uncomfortable virtually-no-contact hug as ushers myself and Paul into the living room, where we quickly park ourselves on the sofa.

"You see? I learned from last time," I joke at mum, waving my feet at her, "no stiletto marks in your carpets!"

"I was just joking," Mum says as she fetches cups of tea through from the kitchen, which Paul & I gratefully accept.

"Mr Bu-Travis," Paul says, jokingly 'forgetting' my birth surname in an always-successful attempt to irritate my father, "have you been following the games?"

"Some of it," dad answers, barely hiding his irritation at Paul's deliberate faux pas. "I watched that Farah kid's finals. Very impressive. ...And immediately she's reached for her phone," dad chastises me as I instinctively pull my iPhone out of my handbag.

"You're talking about sport," I remind the two most important men in my life. "What did you expect to happen?" Dad simply sighs and continues his conversation with Paul.

"You watching the closing ceremony tonight?" Dad asks whilst I busy myself with Facebook and Twitter.

"Of course," Paul answers with a grin. "Charlotte and her boyfriend have got tickets, naturally, so it'll just be me and Jamie on the sofa at home." I grin slightly as I sense dad bristle at the thought of me and Paul spending time alone with each other.

"You're welcome to watch it here," dad inevitably offers, causing my grin to widen further.

"Thanks," Paul says with a knowing grin of his own, "but we both have to be up early for work tomorrow so it'd kinda be more convenient to watch it at home."

"Very well," dad concedes frustratedly.

The rest of the dinner goes as it always does- talk about work and college, mum wanting to know when my next ballet recital will be (the photo I mentioned earlier, of me in my tutu, takes pride of place on my parents' mantlepiece as well), dad asking about university, the same conversations we've had every Sunday for months. Paul and I eventually depart, our bellies full, at 6pm. We arrive back home just in time for the closing ceremony and, as we said we would, spend the evening cuddled up together on the sofa watching it like an old married couple. Sadly, Paul has to go back to his own apartment just after the end so I'm left to climb into bed on my own, where I quickly fall into a deep sleep.

My alarm clock wakes me up at 7:45AM, as is the norm for a work day, and I quickly and quietly run through my morning routine of showering, taking my pills, applying my make-up and perfume and putting on my jewellery. For today's underwear I choose a sexy black lace bra, thong and suspender belt set, and I roll a pair of sheer black stockings up my legs, grinning through dark pink lips as I clip the suspenders through their lacy tops. After touching up my manicure with some clear nail polish, I pull on a plain black blouse, followed by a sexy tight grey skirt suit. The jacket is of course fitted, and the skirt is nice and clingy (if you look REALLY closely, you can just make out the outline of my suspenders) and comes to just above my knee, but has a high vent at the back that, if my stride is too wide, exposes a tiny amount of my stocking tops- hence why I love it so much! After pulling on a pair of ballet flats (for driving in) and grabbing a handbag and a pair of 5" stilettos to match my outfit, I head downstairs into my car and drive off toward another day at work.

As I drive into central London, I muse to myself how strange it is to be looking forward to actually going to work and not have any more exhausting parties ahead of me, when my eye is drawn to a very familiar red estate car head in the opposite direction to me. That looks a little like Ellen's car, I muse to myself as I glance over at the driver of the car. And that looks a little like Ellen, I confusedly wonder as I return my attention to the road. I've barely got a quarter of a mile from home, so it can't just be coincidence that our ballet tutor is heading towards our house- except neither Charlotte nor myself have a lesson today.

Still confused about Ellen's presence near our house, I park up in my regular parking space and change my flats for my heels, but before I head into the office I detour via the nearest convenience store and buy a box of large tampons. Even though I couldn't be mistaken for anything other than 100% female and even though I'm using a self-service checkout, I'm still self-conscious about placing the distinctive box in the shopping bag and taking it into the office with me. Fortunately, I'm able to stash it in my drawer before Joshua can see it.

Morning at work starts as it always has- paperwork, phone calls and filing, but just after 11 Joshua surprises me.

“Jamie!” Joshua calls happily from his office. “I'm heading out for a meeting! Tell anyone who calls I'll call them back tomorrow!” This confuses me greatly- there's nothing in his diary for today and usually when he goes out for an impromptu trip with his wife she calls beforehand.

“Where are you going?” I ask, standing and straightening my skirt. “There's nothing on your schedule for today...”

“Just lunch with a few friends,” Joshua explains as he grabs his suitcase and immediately leaves the office, leaving me standing there flummoxed by his behaviour. Once it becomes obvious he won't be returning any time soon, I return to work, but am interrupted a mere twenty minutes later by someone buzzing the doorbell.

“Who is it?” I ask, using my professional 'receptionist' voice.

“A tall, sexy photographer looking for work,” a familiar voice comes over the intercom. “And also, maybe, some sex.” I giggle at Paul's brazenness as I buzz him up to the office. Sure enough, once he's in the reception area he makes a beeline for my desk and plants a long, hot kiss on my lips.

“We're not hiring photographers at the moment,” I giggle as Paul grabs a hold of my backside and gives it a gentle, playful squeeze.

“Then how about the second thing?” Paul asks as he starts to lift the hem of my skirt.

“...Here in the office?” I ask hesitantly, holding off Paul's advance.

“I have it on good authority that we'll be alone for at least an hour,” my smug boyfriend announces, pulling out his phone and showing me a text message from a very familiar number.

Paul Gould! I'm going to be out of the office until 1300. Your girlfriend is lonely. Get here asap.

I roll my eyes at Joshua's writing and turn my attention back to the sexy young man in front of me.

“I have the best boss of all time,” I say warmly. “AND the best boyfriend.” Our kissing becomes heavier as Paul raises my skirt over my hips and- careful to leave my vagina panty in place- pulls my thong down to my ankles. I turn my back to Paul and bend over my desk as I hear the familiar, wonderful sound of his fly opening. This sound is quickly followed by another familiar sound- the tearing sound associated with a condom opening.

“No,” I say, turning around and grabbing Paul's fully-erect, throbbing penis, massaging it until it begins to pulse in my hand.

“Are you sure?” Paul asks, twitching slightly as he craves his release.

“Positive,” I say, turning back around and taking a deep breath as Paul penetrates me from behind, quickly riding us both to a hot, intense climax. Once Paul's withdrawn from my back passage, I reach into my drawer and pull out a brand-new tampon, waving it suggestively in Paul's face as he stares at me blankly.

“You do know what this is for, right?” I ask as I unwrap the thick tube.

“Yeah, but I've kinda never used one before,” Paul stutters as I hand him the small object.

“Nor have I,” I laugh as Paul stares at the tampon with confusion. “Just push it in, leave the string hanging out and remove the outer tube,” I instruct as Paul nervously eases the tampon into my anus.

“This... is weird,” Paul complains as he fully inserts the tampon and removes the applicator tube. I grimace slightly, but I have to concede his point.

“It is a little,” I agree as I pull my thong back up and lower my skirt, smirking a little at the sensation of the tampon plugging my still-tingling backside.

“Protected sex in future?” Paul asks, still holding the applicator and staring at it like it's an alien lifeform. I simply sigh at his unashamed maleness.

“Wrap it in tissue paper and throw it away,” I instruct Paul, who nods and heads into the nearby toilet. “And clean yourself up whilst you're in there. I'm deffo not touching it now that I know where it's been!”

“Righto,” Paul says, washing his hands (and other parts of his anatomy).

“And to answer your question, yes, protected sex in the future!” I say, guiding Paul into my chair and snuggling into his waiting lap.

After a light lunch- during which Paul leaves, much to our mutual dismay (he's got work elsewhere in the UK for the rest of the week)- Joshua returns and I get back to work as normal. After I get home at 5:30pm, I immediately head up to my room, strip off my suit and dispose of my tampon, which has served its purpose well. I make a point of popping a couple of additional tampons in my handbag, just in case I have another impromptu 'meeting' with Paul!

I change my sexy lace lingerie for a plain white bra & brief set and pull on a short, denim dungaree-style dress before heading downstairs to where Charlotte and Keith are already snuggled up on the sofa. I expect the usual awkward questions I've had every work day since I started my work experience, but this time I can counter with a few of my own. Immediately I notice that underneath Charlotte's loose dress is a black strap that looks far too wide to be one of her bras. Maybe a tank top? Or a leotard...

“How was work?” Charlotte teases as I snuggle up in my usual spot on my sofa and immediately turn my attention to my phone.

“Non-existent,” I retort. “Much like dinner seems to be.”

“We're ordering Thai,” Charlotte explains as she makes a point of adjusting her dress to hide her leotard strap.

“Sounds good,” I say with a smirk. “Get up to anything exciting today?”

“Nothing much,” Charlotte says defensively. “Had a few more TV offers, got to look through them.” This is certainly plausible- Charlotte's in increasing demand for appearances on TV panel and reality shows, and she's VERY picky about which offers she accepts.

“Cool,” I respond stoically. I could confront her about Ellen now, but it isn't the time- and besides, I have a much more devious, Charlotte-esque plan to catch her in the act tomorrow.

After eating dinner- which we spend, as you might imagine, talking and dodging each other's probing questions- I head to bed, but make a point of setting my alarm clock for 8:00. By my reckoning, Ellen would have arrived at the house just before 9 O'Clock, so I intend to be up and about at that exact time. Sure, Ellen may not even come tomorrow, but- and I know I'm being hypocritical here- I don't like being left in the dark.

Sure enough, I wake up at 8 on the dot, and run through my morning routine of showering, taking my pills and applying a light layer of make-up. I pull on a clean cotton bra & thong set and a loose ankle-length sundress before heading downstairs. I open and close the door, but I don't leave the house. Instead, I creep back upstairs and silently re-enter my room, waiting to spring my trap.

Sure enough, at precisely 8:55 Ellen's car pulls up in our driveway. Smirking at having my plan go so flawlessly, I head downstairs and spot Charlotte there, wearing both her ballet uniform and a look on her face that is equal parts shock and fury. Standing next to her is our ballet instructor, equally shocked by my presence.

“Ellen! Hi!” I say with mock surprise. “Did we arrange a lesson for today? I thought we were only doing Thursdays now...”

“Oh, um, uh, sure!” Charlotte stutters with her sweetest possible smile on her face. “I figured that seeing as you won't be seeing Paul until the weekend, I'd treat you to some extra ballet, given I know how much you missed it last week! I was just going to call you down, in fact!” You lying cow, I think to myself as I feign surprise at Charlotte's 'treat'.

“Oh my god, that's so thoughtful!” I exclaim with a wide smile on my face. “Just let me get changed and I'll be right there!” I head back up to my bedroom and quickly change into my ballet gear which, as always, consists of a black tank leotard and a pair of pink tights. Fortunately, given it's so hot outside, Ellen allows us to wear our tights outside our leotards, at least until it cools down again. After tying my hair up into a perfect ballerina's bun and attaching a pair of soft ballet slippers to my feet, I grab my trusty pointe shoes and head toward our private studio, but I pause before entering. This can't go on, I think to myself. And it can't. I'm lying to Charlotte about university, she's obviously lying to me about something... We're supposed to be BFFs. BFFs don't keep things from each other, especially not two friends as close as Charlotte and myself. I make a mental note to come clean to Charlotte- and Keith, Ellen, everyone- today about university. After my impromptu dance lesson, of course! I send a text message to Krystie and Mary, instructing them to come to the house after the lesson ends- they deserve to know too.

The lesson passes without incident- Charlotte and I dutifully dance our steps for 90 minutes until Ellen calls an end to the lesson. After persuading Ellen to stick around for a bit, I try to entertain Charlotte by walking back to my bedroom en pointe and doing a couple of pirouettes along the way, but I can tell she is severely annoyed with me. Once I get back to my bedroom, I call my annoyed BFF over.

"Charlotte," I say softly, trying to defuse her obvious irritation, "this can't go on. You're clearly hiding something from me, and-"

"What?" She asks angrily. "YOU'RE clearly hiding something from ME!"

"That's what I was about to say," I complain, trying to wrestle control of the conversation back from my BFF. "I wanted to keep it as a surprise, but you are my best friend. You're my sister. I don't want to keep it from you any longer."

"So then," Charlotte says, still angry but not nearly as close to boiling over as she was, "what is it that's so massive it has to be sprung on me like this?"

"Let me get changed first, please?" I ask, still feeling a little exposed with the waistband and gusset of my tights on show. Charlotte nods and I enter my room, stripping off my pointe shoes and tights and throwing my earlier dress back on over my leotard. I take a deep breath and head back downstairs, where everyone- Charlotte, Keith, Ellen, Krystie and Mary- are all sat on their sofas, waiting for me to make my big announcement.

"Everyone," I say nervously. "I have an announcement I want to make to you all. Recently, you may have noticed my behaviour being a little... odd. I'll disappear for hours at a time, not be as available for parties as I used to be... The reason for this is-" I take a deep breath- "I'm going to be starting an Open University course in September." There are light gasps from my friends, but surprisingly it's Keith who reacts the most.

"That's awesome!" Keith says with a wide grin on his face. "We'll be student buddies!"

"That's not a real thing," Charlotte chasitises before staring me straight in the face. "Why would you want to go to uni? You already have a perfectly good job."

"It's something I've always wanted to do," I tell Charlotte, who is clearly unconvinced. "You know I left school at 16, and not by choice. Don't get me wrong, I love my job, I love everything you've done for me, I really do, it's just- I want to do something that'll make my parents proud."

"Your parents looked plenty proud of you after your recital earlier in the year," Ellen unhelpfully contributes to almost-universal agreement.

"Guys," Keith interrupts, "the important thing here is that we support Jamie in what she wants to do. This is clearly important to her, and that should be all that matters."

"You're right," Krystie says, jumping to my defence (and doing a very good job of pretending that she doesn't already know). "But don't ever call us 'guys' again!" Keith holds his hands up, embarrassed at his faux pas.

"You will be an amazing student," Krystie says, coming over to me and giving me a big, reassuring hug. "What is it you'll be studying?"

"Business administration," I answer, mouthing a quick 'thank you' to Krystie. "I've been working for Joshua part-time for a few months now to get some experience in."

"I KNEW it!" Charlotte yells, getting off the sofa and approaching me. "THAT's where you've been going all those days!" I hold my hands up in mock-surrender.

"You got me," I say, prompting Charlotte to grin widely and join in the group hug, closely followed by everyone else in the room.

"Well, now that THAT's finally been cleared up," Charlotte says smugly, "I have a little announcement of my own. The reason I'm getting extra tuition from Ellen, is that in less than a month's time... I'm going to be one of the contestants on this year's Strictly Come Dancing!"

Immediately, the tone in the room changes, from 'cautious encouragement' of my university aspirations, to 'utter ecstasy' at Charlotte's upcoming TV role. All the usual questions fly her way- 'who will you be dancing with?', 'what will you be wearing in your first dance?', 'what dance are you looking forward to the most?' etc. etc. I join in the celebrations but inside, I feel crushed. Once again, I've done my best to make something more of myself, and once again, Charlotte's come in and snatched all the limelight away from me in the time it takes to say the word 'limelight'. I mean, obviously, I'm happy for her, but if you asked the others in the room what my big announcement was it's doubtful they'd even remember.

We party for the rest of the day, watching old Strictly videos, taking it in turns to dance old routines with each other, and taking it in turns to lavish attention on Charlotte. As I climb into bed alone at 11pm I check my phone to see if Paul's texted me or Facebooked me at any point this evening, and of course, he hasn't. Granted, he doesn't usually do so, but part of me hoped that he'd somehow know when his girlfriend was in emotional need. I snort when I check my calendar and am reminded of my upcoming shoot for a bridesmaids dress catalogue on Thursday. That just about sums up my role in life- always the bridesmaid, never the bride.

"Beautiful, Jamie," the photographer calls to me as I turn my head and look off into the middle distance, giving the photographer a perfect view of the necklace and earrings I'm wearing- not to mention the exquisite white wedding dress! The dress is strapless, but doesn't show off too much cleavage, and hugs my curves beautifully. I have incredibly long fake nails- extending over an inch from my fingertip- attached to each digit and my make-up is applied flawlessly. My long blonde hair- which I haven't had seriously shortened in over two years- is tied into a tight updo, kept well away from my face and neck. Attached to my hairdo is a pure white veil that the photographer occasionally asks me to raise and lower over my face.

Underneath the dress- which is just one of ten I'm modelling today- is a set of ivory-white satin lingerie. A very tightly-laced overbust corset shapes my figure into the shape required by the dress's manufacturers. A tight satin thong covers my flattened groin (flattened by a latex vagina panty, of course) and thigh-high white silk stockings are attached to the corset by four garters each. On my feet I'm wearing white leather pumps with a 5" heel. I can only hope that on my wedding day, I look and feel as beautiful as I do at this moment.

It's been so long- over three weeks- since my last modelling job, and even longer since my last bridal shoot, but it all comes back to me in an instant the second I step in front of the camera. Over the last eight months my life has changed to the point where I can barely recognise the person I was in 2012.

Physically, I've hardly changed- I've not had any further surgeries since August and am still about 11 months away from 'the big one'. I'm still taking the hormones but there's only so much you can be feminised until you're unrecognisable as having been born male, and I passed that point a long time ago.

My university studies have taken over my life somewhat, but for the better- I'm loving the work I'm doing, even if it is slightly harder than I expected (though I'm currently averaging a 2:2, which is something). I still do work experience for Joshua, but only one day a week, and I still study ballet, but in a much different way than previously. When Krystie and Mary discovered that Charlotte and I were receiving private tuition from former prima ballerina Ellen Heywood, they both demanded at least one lesson with her. So, for Christmas, Charlotte and I clubbed together to buy them both a year's worth of lessons with Ellen, with the implication that the present may become a regular thing, despite the expense (even with the mate's rates Ellen gives us, it's still £150 per student per lesson). So, our little intimate lessons, in which I often opened up to my two closest confidantes, have become girls' nights, only in the daytime and wearing pointe shoes. No, not even girls' nights- it's almost like being back in school, only this time at least I'm one of the popular kids.

Fortunately, I still have Paul. Since August we've grown closer than ever, both physically and emotionally. Whilst we do sometimes indulge in unprotected sex it is very rare- I still haven't finished off the box of tampons I bought in August- but we spend virtually every night (and day) together nowadays. I frequently find myself accompanying him to his shoots, where I try to occupy my time with studying but inevitably find myself roped into donning his latest bizarre costume and going in front of the camera. I've not had to wear anything quite as extreme as the fish costume but I've wound up doing ballet in a black satin corset, thong, stockings and opera gloves and in another shoot, through the magic of make-up, transformed into a living porcelain doll, amongst many other different scenarios. Sometimes the costumes make me long for the relative simplicity of a skirt suit & stilettos! And yes, we've done more 'private' photo and video shoots- our new favourite is one in which I strip from a skin-tight satin leotard and stockings down to a sparkly c-string and nipple pasties and do a burlesque performance for Paul. The great thing about a 'costume' like that is that it's so small you can take it just about anywhere, so sometimes when we're staying in a hotel Paul gets an encore- especially so when we're on holiday! In November we had a weekend in Greece and last month we enjoyed a week in New York- already we're looking at brochures for the summer!

I'm forever thankful for Paul being in my life, as Charlotte has gradually drifted further out of it. Sure, we still live together, sure, we're still BFFs and sure, we're still each other's closest confidante, but ever since Charlotte's media career took off it's like I don't even know the girl any more.

Her Strictly appearance sent her through the stratosphere and into the mainstream. She finished 3rd overall on the show, making the grand final but not quite winning the popular vote. Yes, there were some stories in the tabloids about how she's had extensive dance training which supposedly gave her an unfair advantage, but as Charlotte will happily tell you, there's only so much you can learn from ballet that'll help you in ballroom of Latin dancing. Following the conclusion of the show Charlotte got herself a place on the live tour, meaning she was effectively gone from September through to the end of February, and following that she found herself inundated with TV work, mostly hosting reality-style shows on ITV2 and BBC3. Of course, she took the work, even if sometimes it was just to keep Spencer & Hall happy (and believe me, with the money Charlotte's making for them, they are VERY happy with her right now). The media are calling Charlotte 'the new Kelly Brook'. God only knows what that would make me...

It's not like Charlotte has completely abandoned her friends, though- as mentioned earlier, we all get together at least once a week for ballet, and Charlotte's parties for us (and our boyfriends) are as extravagant as ever. It shouldn't surprise you to learn that the theme for my 21st birthday was 'Strictly Come Dancing'. In the run-up to the party I was dreading it- no girl wants to be upstaged on her special day. Fortunately, Charlotte was willing to let me have the limelight for one night only (and even do a few dances with Matt, her professional partner on the show) and had some utterly gorgeous dresses made for me to wear at the party. Charlotte insisted that each of us had to do one ballroom and one Latin dance, and I drew 'tango' and 'salsa'. My tango dress was unbelievable- a deep, crimson red, almost completely backless and the skirt split up both sides. Sometimes, when I'm feeling low, I take it out of my wardrobe and just stare at it for a while and remember just how incredibly sexy I looked and felt when I was fully made-up and tangoing around the floor in it. My salsa dress was equally fun- essentially a leotard with massive amounts of fringing on it that bounced and swished every time I took a step (and in the salsa, there are a LOT of steps). I will confess I did get a little diva-ish before the party and insisted on a third dress being made, a proper full ballroom dress to waltz in, but what girl doesn't want to have one truly beautiful ball gown to swish around her as she's swept around the floor? Even my parents joined in in the group waltz at the end of the party, leading to a very awkward moment when dad found himself dancing with me!

For the boys' parties, the theme of us girls wearing 'service uniforms' has continued. A while ago us girls just decided to drop any pretense and admit that we all just loved dressing up- not that the boys complained, of course! In February Keith was treated to a gaggle of cheerleaders in crop tops, miniskirts and platform trainers celebrating his every step (with Charlotte at the top of the human pyramid, of course) and in March Paul celebrated his 24th by being waited on hand and foot by a bevy of French Maids in ridiculously frilly dresses- though obviously, only I was allowed to tend to him personally! For Charlotte's 22nd in May she's determined to have the 'Black Swan' themed party she couldn't have for my 20th, and has even had Ellen choreograph a routine for the four of us to perform on the day- another reason we all practise ballet together. Only Charlotte could take such a generous Christmas present and make it all about her...

"That's perfect, think we've got all we need," the director announces to my intense relief as I step out from in front of the camera and head to my changing room.

"Here comes the bride..." Paul sings mockingly as I enter the room and immediately turn my back to him to let him unzip the slinky white dress.

"Hilarious," I reply sarcastically. "It is good to be back in front of the camera again."

"I'll try not to take that personally," Paul snorts as I grimace internally.

"You know what I mean," I say, attempting to sound sympathetic. "Sometimes I'm so wrapped up with stuff I actually forget that I am a model."

"Really?" Paul asks. "I'd have thought every time you looked in the mirror you'd be reminded that you were the most beautiful girl in the world." I grin a big, goofy grin at Paul's compliment and lean toward him to give him a long, lingering kiss as he unties my corset, freeing my breasts for him to playfully caress despite my attempts to get changed back into my street clothes.

"Sometimes I guess I need to hear that," I say with a sigh as I pull on the black bra, thong and tights I was wearing when I arrived at the studio before retrieving the red playsuit I put on this morning.

In an effort to make myself feel more comfortable wearing bifurcated items of clothing like trousers or shorts, I've been forcing myself to wear them more often, which has resulted in me experimenting with my look more and more, and at this present time I've developed a real fondness for playsuits. Despite some people describing them as 'adult rompers'- which I guess isn't entirely untrue- they are very cute and can be very sexy, especially when paired with sheer tights like mine is today. Most of the time I go for playsuits that are cut very high in the leg, like a leotard (sometimes with lace fringing to give me a little more modesty), but today's is longer, like a pair of hot pants, and has long see-through lacy sleeves in black to contrast the hot red of the rest of the garment. Naturally, I complete my look with a pair of 5" heeled ankle booties before untying my hair and grabbing my handbag, signifying to my boyfriend that I'm ready to go.

"As I said," Paul says, wrapping a loving arm around my waist, "the most beautiful girl in the world." I grin and kiss him one more time as we walk out of the studio arm in arm.

We arrive back at my place just after 3pm and find the house empty, not that this is too surprising- Keith's back at university, studying harder than ever for his final semester, and Charlotte's media career keeps her out of the house, sometimes for days on end. Grinning, I happy slip off my booties in favour of a pair of comfy Ugg boots and crash on the couch, wrapping Paul's arms around me as fritter away the evening watching TV and eating a takeaway dinner. We're both in bed at 10pm- both of us have work tomorrow- where we eagerly undress each other before ending the day in the most orgasmic way possible...

My alarm clock wakes us both up at 7:45, and after removing Paul's hands from my breasts and buttocks, I run through my normal morning routine almost subconsciously before getting dressed for the day. Friday's the day I work for Joshua so I pick out a suitable skirt suit (with me only working one day a week, Joshua decided to drop casual attire on Fridays) after donning my vagina panty, bra, thong & blouse for the day and tying my hair into a sophisticated ponytail. This suit is a plain dark blue one with a knee-length pencil skirt, but I decide to jazz it up a little with a pair of dark fishnet tights- which, obviously, excites Paul greatly! After pulling on a pair of matching 5" heel stilettos and grabbing a matching handbag, I head down to the driveway to be driven to work by Paul. It's always weird leaving the house empty like this- especially given how famous Charlotte's become- but I guess this is all part of growing up.

"Reckon I should accept Joshua's inevitable job offer today?" Paul jokes as we pull out of the driveway- after, of course, he wastes several seconds playing with my tights!

"I'd love to know what his reaction would be if you did," I reply with a giggle. "He'd probably shove a contract down your throat or something." Suddenly, Paul adopts a serious facial expression and glances sideways at me.

"Do you still enjoy working for Joshua?" He asks, catching me off-guard. "Both as a model and, well, as this." I open my mouth to respond, but pause just a little too long as I contemplate my answer.

"Sure," I say, failing to convince even myself. "I guess."

"For as long as I've known you it's like you live your life at light speed," Paul says with concern in his voice. "I dunno if it's because you live with Charlotte, but you're always bouncing between one project and another. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that I feel I never see you- obviously, um, I'd want to see you more, but-" I interrupt Paul as he becomes more and more flustered.

"I get what you're saying," I say, calming him down. And I really do. It's not even since I met him that things have gone berserk- it's ever since I set off down the road to becoming a woman. I've gone along with every new experience that I never stopped to ask myself if this is truly what I wanted, and I can pinpoint the exact second it started- when I accepted Charlotte's offer to become Jamie-Lee full-time.

I've replayed that moment a million times in my head and wondered what would have happened if I'd said no to Charlotte. She'd have begged and pleaded, for sure, but if I'd stuck to my guns, gone back to being James? I'd have been a weedy, effeminate boy. Sure, a weedy, effeminate boy with a colossal bank balance, but without a life, without any direction. It's no wonder I feel my life is passing by so quickly- before I met Charlotte it wasn't moving at all. Before that fateful week two years ago I'd never even considered becoming female- now it's like I can't conceive of anything else. I'd been so sheltered from what my father would undoubtedly have called 'freakish and deviant behaviour' that I never considered that it was what was missing from my life.

And yet, it feels like I'm running away. Running away from my old life? Maybe. With the exception of my parents it's like my old pre-Charlotte life never happened. I never had many friends at school, and those I did know I don't have any contact with any more. It's taken me so long to realise that I'm not playing at being Jamie-Lee. For 19 years beforehand, I was playing at being James. Playing at being a boy. I've got a lot of catching up to do.

"I've wasted 19 years already," I explain. "Gotta make up time where I can!" Much to my relief, Paul beams a wide, happy grin and gives my fishnet-covered thigh a quick squeeze.

"I-" Paul begins, before stammering. "-Um, think we're almost here." My heart skips a beat as he says that sentence. We've been going out for well over a year, had sex countless hundreds of times, met each other's parents, practically lived with each other for the past few weeks, and yet we've yet to say those three little words to each other. Do I love Paul? In truth, I don't know. I could say the words- even though I haven't been on stage or in front of a camera in months, I am still an actress, I have had classes and everything- but I don't know if I'd mean them.

And yet, two years ago, before Jamie-Lee was even born, I said them to Keith without a moment's hesitation. And I DID mean it then.

"Yep, we're almost here," I whisper as Paul pulls us into the street containing Joshua's office. I elegantly swing my legs out of the car and get out, subconsciously straightening my skirt and jacket as I lead Paul into the posh office building.

"Jamie!" Joshua yells with a blindingly bright grin as I enter the building. "Paul Gould! Come and take photos for me!" I exchange a quick, knowing glance with Paul as he greets my boss.

"Okay," my boyfriend says with a cheeky grin. "When do I start?" Joshua is taken aback slightly by Paul's forwardness.

"What?" He asks, keeping his trademark grin firmly attached to his face despite his confusion. "Aha," Joshua chuckles, cottoning onto the game. "Very clever! Wondered if you'd ever say yes just to see what I'd do! Now kiss your girlfriend and get out of here!"

"Sure thing, boss," Paul cheekily replies, giving me a lingering kiss on the lips before departing for his own job.

"That was his idea," I explain as I put my handbag in my drawer and switch on my computer.

"I don't doubt it!" Joshua smirks as he returns to his own office, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Do I love Paul? Maybe, maybe not. Is my life better because it has him in it? Undoubtedly.

Work goes as it always has- mostly catching up on the work Joshua's not been able to get done over the course of the week- and by the time 5pm rolls around I'm still awake and energetic enough to have a wide grin on my face as I leave the office, which is definitely a good thing as whilst Friday daytime has become my regular work day, Friday nights have become my regular girls' nights out!

"Hey Jay!" Charlotte greets me with a quick hug as I return home (Keith's just gone back to university, so I always get extra affection from her when he's not here). "Loving the fishnets, gonna have to try that look one time! If, you know, I ever get a job."

"You hosting the latest super reality TV show ISN'T a job?" I tease as I quickly skip up the stairs to my room.

"Not when it's that much fun!" Charlotte yells after me, causing us both to giggle girlishly. I quickly strip off my suit and change into a t-shirt and denim miniskirt for dinner, but much to Charlotte's delight, I leave my fishnets on! After dinner, the two of us head up to her room to prepare for our night out! First comes our underwear- I swap my plain back bra & thong for a frivolously tiny lace G-string (the dress I have in mind has built-in 'support'), and exchange my fishnets for a pair of glossy tan-coloured tights. Charlotte, of course, pulls on a pair of flesh-coloured fishnets, 'inspired' by my choice of work legwear.

Next comes our hair and make-up. Charlotte's still wearing her hair short, which is ironic considering she only cut it back in 2011 to match my then-short hair for the switcheroo, but she liked it so much she kept the style whilst I grew my hair long! I spend time adding additional waves to my hair and tie it up into a loose updo, whilst Charlotte slicks her hair to give the illusion of extra length. We both paint our nails a dark, almost brownish shade of red, and then set about applying our make-up for the night. Fake tan, thick gel eyeliner and thick silver eye shadow go on first, followed by our longest fake eyelashes. Numerous different shades of lip liner and lipstick go on our mouths and numerous different perfumes cloud our bodies before we pick out our dresses for the night. Naturally, we both opt for tiny, slinky black dresses- Charlotte's has flimsy spaghetti straps holding it up whilst I opt for a halter neck with a very low back and a mesh front, through which you can see HUGE amounts of cleavage. We complete our looks with our poshest handbags, flashiest jewellery and a pair of platform stilettos- mine have a 6" heel, but Charlotte, ever the 'alpha female', opts for a gravity (and sense)-defying 7.5" pair. Shoes that I, of course, immediately make a mental note to buy, despite their £250 price tag!

Undoubtedly we'll both turn the heads of every straight man we pass tonight, and not just because of Charlotte's fame. We may both have boyfriends, and we may both be uninterested in any man who tries hitting on us (and there will be plenty who try), but we both want to be treated as goddesses, treated as the sexiest women to ever grace planet Earth with our presence.

The taxi picks us up just after 8:15pm and whisks us into London, where Krystie and Mary- both equally dolled up- are waiting for us. After getting a few selfies for our respective blogs/Instagram accounts, we tour various clubs around the city before Charlotte leads us to a particular club that's taken her interest at around 11pm. Of course, we jump the queue and are led straight into the club's VIP area by its simpering manager, who serves us our first round of drinks on the house.

"Cheers!" The four of us all simultaneously yell, clinking our glasses together.

"When are the guys getting here?" Mary asks, taking a sip of her expensive cocktail.

"Can we not go five seconds without talking about boys?" I ask with mock exasperation. "This is girls night, the guys are only here as eye and arm candy!"

"Perfectly put, Miss Burke," Charlotte compliments me, casting an eye out over the dancefloor beneath us.

"Thank you, Miss Hutchinson," I reply as I follow Charlotte's gaze. "Though you are keeping an eye out for Keith, right?"

"I've not seen him in five days," Charlotte responds. "I'm entitled to be, well, entitled."

"I haven't seen Dan since Wednesday," Mary chimes in, shooting daggers at me from her eyes.

"And I haven't seen Chris since Monday," Krystie states coldly. "So let's take a show of hands here- who's the only girl to have seen her boyfriend in the last 24 hours?" Sighing, I raise my hand.

"And who's the only girl complaining that we're talking about boys?" Krystie asks accusingly.

"Okay, okay," I concede. "Boys are great! Yay boys!" Satisfied with my 'concession', Krystie sits back in her chair and keeps sipping her drink.

"They will of course have stopped off at a pub on the way for a game of pool," Mary sighs.

"God, why DO boys do that?" Krystie sighs in agreement. "The four hottest women in the world right here, and they want to play with long, thin bits of wood."

"Not it!" I immediately yell, followed closely by Charlotte and Mary. It's kind-of an in-joke we've developed over the years as a response to Krystie's love of 'innuendo'. Krystie, for her part, simply rolls her eyes and relaxes back into her chair, resting her expensive 6" heels on the table in front of us.

"Just like my high school prom," Krystie complains. "Eight of us went together, 4 girls, 4 boys, you'd have thought 4 couples, right? Nope. 4 girls sitting together talking about what jerks the 4 boys were as said boys completely ignored us."

"God, tell me about it," Mary agrees. "I went to my prom with a date and left with three other single women. I dunno why schools think that 16 year olds can interact with the opposite sex."

"How about you, Jamie?" Krystie asks me with a smile. "Any horror stories from your prom?" I put my glass down and grimace slightly- fortunately, though, I won't have to lie to my friends about exactly why my prom experience would be different to theirs.

"I... never had a prom," I say truthfully. "Don't forget my parents kicked me out before the end of my GCSEs, prom was the last thing on my mind at that time." Krystie looks slightly worried, as if she touched a sensitive nerve.

"Charlotte?" Krystie asks tentatively.

"Never went to school after the age of fourteen," Charlotte sighs, "let alone had a prom. And I couldn't go with Keith to his, as his private school was boys only so, obviously, no need for a prom."

"That sucks," Mary says. "Every girl should have a prom! You know, where they can dress up in their best clothes, be treated like a princess and dance with the boy of their dreams..."

"You mean exactly like what we're doing tonight?" I interrupt with a smile, letting Krystie know her faux pas wasn't as bad as she'd feared.

"You know what I mean!" Mary retorts. "Wearing a big, swishy dress, getting driven to the venue in a fancy limousine..."

"So... Like my 21st?" I ask sarcastically.

"Again, you. Know. What. I. Mean," Mary retorts, her normally soft Belfast accent growing thicker and thicker with every agitated word. "Krys, we should definitely throw these two a prom! A proper one!"

"Hell yeah," Krystie agrees with a grin, "I can get in on that! You two have thrown us so many parties, it's time we did something for you for a change!"

"...It would be nice," Charlotte concedes, looking expectantly in my direction.

"Who am I to say no to a party?" I say, prompting cheers from my three friends.

"It's settled then!" Mary orders. "Clear your diaries for tomorrow, 'cause we're going prom shopping!" The four of us cheers and clink our glasses again, but before I'm able to take a sip of my drink I'm out of my chair and greeting my boyfriend at the entrance to the VIP area with a long kiss.

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" Krystie sighs with over-exaggerated frustration. "Twelve hours, and he's the first to get here!?" I simply stick my tongue out at my friend and lead my boyfriend by the hand down to the dancefloor, where we stay for the next several hours...

We don't arrive home until 2am, where I sigh with relief as I shed my shoes, jewellery and clothes and climb into bed, snuggling up next to Paul. We're both so exhausted we fall asleep almost immediately, but are awake again just before 8am for one of our traditional Saturday morning sex marathons!

Ninety minutes later, after the two of us have shared virtually all of our most intimate areas with each other, we roll out of bed and immediately pull on our swimming gear before heading down to Charlotte's pool. Being April, it's just warm enough to enjoy a refreshing dip, and that's what we intend to do! Paul, of course, is wearing his sexy navy blue shorts, whilst I opt for a cleavage-baring hot pink one-piece swimsuit (bikinis still being a bad idea when swimming with Paul). We're barely in the pool fifteen minutes before Charlotte saunters over the side of the pool and crouches down to admonish us.

"You know," Charlotte sighs at myself and Paul as we fool around in the water, "last night we did kinda agree to plan a big, fancy prom?"

"I thought Krystie and Mary said they were going to plan that?" I retort, threatening to splash a very indignant Charlotte with some pool water.

"They did," Charlotte concedes, "but they also said 'shopping trip', remember?" I roll my eyes and get out of the pool.

"I'll be down in twenty," I say to Charlotte as I lead Paul back to my room, his hand firmly clamped around my left buttock.

"And for god's sake Paul," Charlotte admonishes, "stop being so damned squeamish and let the girl wear a bikini once in a while. Not that that one-piece isn't damned sexy, of course." Paul and I giggle as we head back up to my room.

"I still can't believe your operation's over twelve months away," Paul sighs. "You've been living full-time for what, two years? Even got all those legal documents through from the government."

"The gender recognition certificate? Yeah," I clarify. "I know it sucks, but he is the single best surgeon money can buy and he's booked out years in advance. I was lucky Charlotte was able to get me in as early as 2014." I step into my shower, turn the water on and quickly drop to my knees in front of Paul. "Speaking of sucking..."

After I've 'cleaned Paul's penis', I drop my swimsuit and thoroughly clean my entire body before making myself back up, repainting my nails a pale pink colour and picking out my shopping outfit. I'm not spending the night with Paul so I can thankfully forego a vagina panty, but I do pull on a plain white bra & thong set, followed by a pair of nude tights, a basic stripy top and a loose knee-length black skirt. I was planning on wearing another playsuit today, but going from swimsuit to playsuit is a bit too 'suit'-y for one day. I put on my favourite jewellery, spray on some sweet-smelling perfume and slip my feet into a pair of 4" heels before grabbing my handbag and walking down the stairs to an increasingly-impatient Charlotte.

"This is your idea of 'twenty'?" Charlotte sighs, tapping her 5" stiletto-heeled feet. I merely shrug and overtly slip my hand into Paul's back pocket.

"How many of the other guys will be coming on this shopping trip?" Paul asks hesitantly.

"None," Charlotte smugly replies. "It'll just be you and four girls!"

"See you tomorrow babe," Paul says, giving me a rushed kiss on the lips before leaving the house and quickly driving off.

"BOY!" Charlotte and I yell after Paul as he leaves. Not that I can blame him- the last time we conned him into coming shopping with us he was forced to watch us try on dresses for over four hours with only his iPhone for company. I think he used up the phone's entire battery life in that one trip!

Much to Charlotte's delight, I chauffeur the two of us into central London in my Clio, Charlotte doing her utmost to be the most irritating 'backseat driver' in human history by pointing out every single potential hazard in the road- and she doesn't even have a driving licence herself!

We meet up with Krystie and Mary for lunch- deliberately choosing a restaurant with mostly male waiters just so we can see their reactions to serving four gorgeous blonde models! After eating we head to the nearest dress shop. Obviously, there's more to organising a prom than just a dress, but all four of us agreed last night that this would be the most important part!

"This is meant to be a HIGH SCHOOL prom, remember," Mary commands as we browse through racks of beautiful gowns. "No bespoke pieces!" Charlotte sticks her tongue out at Mary as she picks out a strapless sapphire-coloured gown and holds it up against her body.

"I am absolutely NOT sticking to a high school girl's budget," Charlotte insists.

"Seconded," I say with a smirk as I hold an elegant pale emerald gown against my body. "Hmm... Maybe I should do for an elegant trouser suit instead?" Immediately, I'm bombarded by friendly jeers, which subside when I take my dress to the nearest changing room.

"You'll need a hand with that," Krystie observes, accompanying me to the booth and holding the dress whilst I strip to my bra and thong.

"You know," Krystie says as she holds out the dress for me to step into, "I've known you for two years and I feel like I hardly know anything about you before the day we met. I've only even met your parents once, at your 21st."

"There really isn't anything to know," I say, hoping to divert the topic of conversation. "This dress really isn't going to work with a bra..."

"So take it off then," Krystie says with a sly smirk. "I promise I won't look..."

"Last year, after you did those topless photos, you promised you WOULD," I remind my friend.

"Okay then, maybe I will," Krystie says, her smirk still firmly attached to her face. "I don't get why you're always so sensitive about your breasts." I roll my eyes and unclip my bra, showing Krystie the faint pink blemishes on the side of my chest.

"These," I say, gently running a finger over my scars. "I was... Not a fast developer."

"Oh my god," Krystie whispers, gently touching the scar with my permission. "You've got implants? When did you get them done?" I have to hastily think- back when I used prosthetics Krystie saw what she thought was bare skin on more than one occasion.

"Just before I met you for the first time," I lie. "Charlotte paid for them in exchange for me..." I think quickly. "...Moving in with her and keeping her company whilst Keith was at university."

"Seems an odd exchange, tits for companionship," Krystie muses as I remove my bra completely, nervously allowing my breasts to hang free. "And you do know it means you'll never be able to model for Spencer & Hall, right? They have a strict 'no-cosmetic surgery' policy, after all..."

"Yeah, that's why I'm studying at uni," I say, pulling the dress on and allowing Krystie to fasten it shut. "I'll never get into Spencer & Hall or Models One, so it just makes sense to, you know, have other options available." With the dress fastened, I turn around and pose for Krystie, one hand on my hip.

"Gorgeous," Krystie beams. I pull my shoes back on and step out of the kiosk where Charlotte and Mary greet me with awed gasps.

"The first contender for the prom queen," Krystie announces as I do a turn for my friends, "Miss Jamie-Lee Burke!"

"The first contender for the prom queen's DRESS," I correct Krystie. "First of many!" Giggling, Krystie and I return to the changing room where we strip off the dress. The four of us spend the entire afternoon trying on beautiful dresses without spending a single penny on any of them! At around 6pm, we arrive back at Charlotte's house where, after a light dinner prepared by Keith, Charlotte and I grab our laptops and begin looking at sites for prom supplies.

"We are having the prom here, I take it?" Charlotte asks as she types on her computer.

"If we do that then you and Jamie won't have the experience of the limo ride," Mary says. "What are you googling for?" Charlotte blushes slightly.

"Don't tell me," Krystie sighs, "'Charlotte Hutchinson looks fresh in fishnets on night out in London'?" Charlotte giggles with embarrassment as she turns the laptop around to face us.

"Huh, you never told me you worked for the Daily Mail online," I joke as Charlotte turns her laptop to face herself again.

"Like you said," Krystie says, "keeping my options open!"

Naturally, we don't get anything done on our 'girls' night in', instead spending our time gossiping about work, boys and clothes! Krystie and Mary depart shortly after 10pm and I head to bed very quickly afterward, closely followed by Charlotte & Keith. Unsurprisingly, I'm woken up at 7:45am by Charlotte knocking on my door.

"Nope!" I yell, turning my head back into my pillow.

"You know I'll never stop asking," Charlotte yells through my door. "Have fun at your parents'."

"I will," I assure my BFF as I snuggle underneath the covers again. Inevitably, however, I'm forced to rise from my bed at 8:45 by my alarm. After showering, applying my make-up and taking my pills, I redo my nails a deep red colour and pick out my outfit for the day. I'm not spending the night with Paul tonight but I am meeting him so I pull on a vagina panty anyway, followed by a lacy black bra & thong set. I pull on a translucent pair of black tights and a similar but shorter A-line skirt to yesterday's, before finishing up with a tight red top and a pair of 3" heels. Naturally, by the time I'm ready, Paul's already waiting downstairs, so I grab my handbag and greet him with a long kiss before elegantly lowering myself into the passenger seat of his car.

We talk about rubbish on the drive to my parents', arriving just before 11am and being greeted, as always, with a big hug from my mum and a small, awkward hug from my dad.

"Jamie!" Mum beams brightly as she hugs me. "You're looking so great!"

"Thanks!" I say with a big grin. Despite being estranged from my parents for well over three years, I find myself relying on them more and more for emotional support, even though I'm closer than ever to Charlotte and my other friends. And to Paul...

"Morning Mr. Travis," Paul says with a smile as he shakes dad's hand. "Now that I've finally remembered your name, can I please have permission to date your daughter?" Dad snorts sarcastically as we let ourselves into the front room.

"Bit late for that now," dad sighs, sitting down heavily in his favourite chair. "How's work been lately?"

"Slow," I confess. "Joshua's been using me sparingly since I started uni. I'm not complaining, I need the time to study, I just, you know, kinda wish I had more time to do actual work."

"Modelling work, right?" Dad asks with an air of condescension in his voice.

"PROPER work, yes," I say firmly. Dad simply smiles at my defiance.

"...And that's just spoilt me telling your dad that you were trying on wedding dresses all day Thursday," Paul jokes, trying but failing to get a rise out of my father.

"Because you were modelling them, right?" Dad asks, clearly terrified that Paul might have proposed, and that I might have accepted!

"Right," I clarify. "And there's a difference between 'modelling' and 'trying on'. 'Modelling' is what I do as a profession, 'trying on' is what I was doing all day yesterday." This time, dad's eyes do go wide.

"Prom dresses," I clarify to my father's obvious relief. "We figured out the other day that neither Charlotte nor I had a high school prom, so we're setting out to rectify that."

"Making up for nineteen years one fancy dress event at a time," Paul quips, earing himself a soft jab in the ribs from my elbow. Much to my surprise, dad actually looks guilty at this development.

"Even though I probably wouldn't have agreed to buy a dress for you," dad says, "I do regret the fact that you never got to attend a prom at school. Even if it is an American thing we neither need nor want in our schools."

"Go UKIP!" Paul states, earning himself an evil gaze from dad.

"If I could go back in time and change one thing, we'd never have kicked you out," dad confesses. "Even though I doubt I'll ever be fully comfortable with your... Choices, you are undoubtedly a successful and independent woman, and we're both very proud of you. I just wish I could take some of the credit for it."

"Of course you can," I say softly, shocked at the normally gruff man opening up. "You're my dad, and you always will be. I love you, dad."

"...I... I love you, Jamie," dad mutters. For once, Paul doesn't inject one of his 'witty' comments into the moment, instead just wrapping an arm around me and holding me tight.

"Did I hear someone say they were shopping for prom dresses?" Mum asks as she enters the room with our drinks, making all three of us laugh happily.

The normally-slightly awkward Sunday lunch passes smoothly, mum constantly asking about the prom- and, of course, my upcoming ballet performance- and for once, Paul and I aren't eager to get away, trying to find excuses to stay a little longer. It's almost 8:30pm when we do depart- Paul having to get home early for work tomorrow and me having to get home early for ballet tomorrow morning- and as I leave, dad pulls me into probably the tenderest hug he's ever given me. No words are exchanged, but it's clear that, at long last, he has finally accepted me as his daughter.

I have a contented smile plastered to my face for the whole of the drive home, something Paul can't help but notice.

"Is it my imagination or did that go infinitely smoother than usual?" He asks.

"Mmm," I tiredly mumble in agreement. "Thank you."

"For what?" Paul asks confusedly.

"For everything," I answer. "For being you, for being my boyfriend... I'm so glad Charlotte set us up."

"...I'm glad too," Paul says with a happy smile on his face. "I will confess, I never thought I could be in a relationship with a girl like you... You know what I mean, no offence... But I really have enjoyed every minute of it. I... I think I love you, Jamie." My heart begins to race and my whole body shakes at Paul's unexpected declaration.

"I... I think I love you too," I whisper hoarsely.

After we arrive home we spend at least ten minutes sat in the car just kissing, embracing each other, not wanting to pull apart from each other's company. Eventually, we're forced to part ways, but not before one final, extra-long kiss!

As I enter my home and kick off my shoes, I hear the noise of the television coming from the lounge. Smiling, I enter the lounge and sidle up next to Charlotte on the sofa, surprising her with a long, friendly hug.

"Whoa!" Charlotte shouts, surprised by the hug. "What's this for?"

"Being the best BFF ever," I say happily, squeezing Charlotte tighter despite her squirming. "And setting me up with the best boyfriend ever." Charlotte sighs and allows me to get the hug out of my system.

"Lucky Keith's gone back to uni so he didn't have to hear you say that," Charlotte jokes as I release her and snuggle down on my sofa for the night.

I eventually crawl into bed just after 10:30pm, but not before texting Paul a long text message filled with Xs!

My alarm wakes me up at 8am from the most restful sleep I've had in a long time. After my normal morning routine (including a clean vagina panty), I apply a light layer of make-up, followed by my usual ballet uniform of a pair of pink seamed tights and a snug black tank leotard. After tying my ballet slippers to my feet, I throw a plain t-shirt dress over my head and grab my pointe shoes before heading to our mini-studio, where Charlotte is all ready and waiting, doing stretches in her own uniform.

"Ellen doesn't get here for another 20 minutes," I giggle at my BFF. "You really are taking this seriously, aren't you?"

"You know how much I've always loved ballet," Charlotte says, dropping into a perfect split. "I want this performance on my birthday to be beyond perfect." Smiling, I drop into a split alongside Charlotte and do some stretches of my own.

Five minutes later, Krystie and Mary arrive at our house, wearing street clothes but toting brim-filled dance bags with them.

"Jamie, can I use your hair straighteners?" Krystie asks as she crosses the threshold into our house.

"Hi Krys!" I say sarcastically, causing the model to roll her eyes. "And yes you can, though you'll need to wait for them to warm up." I escort Krystie to my room, where she immediately strips down to her underwear and pulls her own leotard & tights from her dance bag.

"Turn around for god's sake," Krystie orders as she unclips her bra.

"After Saturday? Really?" I ask, staring fixedly at my friend, who simply rolls her eyes and strips fully naked before quickly pulling on her dance gear.

"I think my leo's starting to wear out," Krystie complains as she picks at a loose seam on one of the leg holes.

"We'll get a new one when we're out shopping today," I say, handing Krystie my warming ceramic hair straighteners. It doesn't take long for her to turn her naturally-curly, flowing locks arrow straight before tying them back into a severe ballerina's bun. I'm always amazed by how different Krystie, and for that matter, I look when we're in 'ballet mode' as opposed to normal mode. With our severe hair and lack of our usual eye make-up and scarlet lipstick, we almost look like entirely different girls. After allowing Krystie to tie my hair into a bun (she does it far better than I can myself) we head back to the studio, where Charlotte and Mary await us, both looking as different to normal as Krystie and I look.

Ellen arrives within five minutes, and after rolling the leg holes on our leotards higher using a trick Krystie taught us (it make our legs look longer, and therefore better), we begin our 90-minute lesson. For the last half of the lesson, we all don our pointe shoes and practice tutus and demonstrate our solo performances for our upcoming recital/birthday party. Naturally, we all pull off the complicated routines flawlessly, much to Ellen's pride.

After Ellen leaves, the four of us remain in the studio, dressed in our uniforms, to continue with an 'unofficial' lesson. When Krystie had her first lesson with Ellen, she mentioned to the former prima ballerina that she'd always wanted to be a professional dance teacher (having assisted with teaching ballet since she was 13), so with Ellen's blessing, she's been giving the other three of us additional tutelage after our regular lessons. It's always a bit weird taking instruction from Krystie, as a) she's the youngest out of the four of us, and b) she's also by far the least serious out of the four of us, but she clearly knows what she's talking about when it comes to ballet, and she also finds ways to make the lessons fun!

...Especially as today she orders Charlotte to retrieve the costumes she originally had made for my 20th birthday party (which was originally going to be Black Swan-themed) so that we can practise in them! We've all had both 'black swan' and 'white swan' costumes made, and today we're wearing the 'white swan' version, which consists of pristine white tights, a laced-in white tutu and a gorgeous feathery white headpiece. We dance around in our costumes, occasionally stopping to goof off and have fun as well as taking a few photos for our instagrams/blogs, until almost 12:30pm, when we reluctantly change out of our costumes and into our street clothes for yet more shopping! Krystie and Mary obviously put back on the dresses they wore when they arrived at our house, whilst I opt for a tight grey long-sleeved top and a short black pencil skirt (along with thin tights and a pair of heels, of course). Charlotte, naturally, is wearing a really short grey dress and higher heels than any of us. As we're running short on time, we only apply a light layer of make-up. Krystie and Mary untie their hair from their buns, letting their long locks hang free, but I leave mine tied up, much to the other girls' delight!

"Seems a shame to waste such a well-tied bun," I explain as I sit down alongside Charlotte in the back seat of Mary's car. Naturally, Charlotte can't help but play with it throughout the entire journey!

Before we begin our day's shopping expedition, we stop off at a nearby coffee shop for a drink- and that's the decision that causes my entire life to turn upside down and inside out.

"Oh shit," I whisper quietly as the four of us enter the small shop. Charlotte, alarmed at my uncharacteristic outburst, immediately turns to me.

"What's wrong?" She asks, genuine concern in her voice.

"We- we need to go, we need to find another coffee shop, fast," I say, my heart racing and my hands shaking.

"What is it? What's up?" Charlotte asks, but before I can answer, we're intercepted by one of the shop's employees.

"Hey, are you Charlotte Hutchinson?" The tall man asks, prompting Charlotte to adopt her 'celebrity face' for him.

"Yep, that's me," she says with a smile. "If you have a pen I could sign a napkin for you if you'd like?"

"That'd be great," the man says. "My girlfriend thinks you're- oh my god," the man suddenly looks in my direction and, much to Charlotte's undoubted chagrin, completely disregards her. I brace myself as the man inspects my face. No, no, no... I think to myself.

"James Travis?" The man asks as I close my eyes and desperately try not to cry. "James Travis? Ha! I always knew you were a little faggot, I didn't realise it was this serious!" Simultaneously, my three friends gasp- but fortunately, not at the mention of my former name.

"I beg your pardon!?" Mary barks angrily.

"How dare you speak to her like that!" Charlotte yells in the man's face. "Get me your manager now!" By now, much to my increasing horror, everyone in the coffee shop has stopped what they're doing and are looking in our direction.

"'Her'!?" The man asks incredulously. "That isn't a 'her', that's a 'him'! Lift up 'her' skirt if you don't believe me!"

"MANAGER! NOW!" Charlotte yells defensively as the man simply laughs in our faces. By now, the only thing keeping me from collapsing in a pile on the floor is Krystie holding me upright.

"Whatever," the man says dismissively. "I'm not going to need this job when the press find out from me that Charlotte Hutchinson's been hanging around with a transvestite!" With that the man leaves, stopping to laugh directly in my face as he does.

"I- I think we should go home," Charlotte says quietly, aiding Krystie in leading me outside. As we enter fresh air, however, the stress of the situation finally hits me fully and I immediately double over, vomiting all over the pavement in the least dignified manner imaginable. After throwing up two more times, Mary rushes back into the coffee shop to get me a drink of water and a napkin to clean myself up, before leading us back to her car.

The car ride home is conducted in deathly silence but in my head a million conversations are taking place at once, and none of them end well. I'd never intended to keep Krystie and Mary in the dark forever, but I'd hoped to have at least been able to wait until after I'd had 'the' operation before making the revelation.

When we arrive back home, we sombrely sit down in the living room and remain in silence for several minutes.

"Is-" Krystie begins soberly, "is what he said- is it true?" Blinking tears out of my eyes, I hesitantly nod, causing Krystie to sit back in disbelief.

"I- I can't believe it," my friend whispers. "All this time, you've been a boy?"

"She WAS a boy," Charlotte explains angrily. "She IS a girl."

"Because of course YOU knew," Krystie says, anger creeping into her voice. "Do... Do you have, have a- do you have a penis?" Now crying openly, I nod again. I look up at my friend, but she is simply sat there, shaking her head in a state of shock.

"I- I can't believe this," Krystie says quietly. "This can't be real. We've- we've been friends for years, and you've been lying to me all this time?" I take a moment to compose myself before answering the woman I feel I betrayed.

"I never meant to lie to you," I explain. "I am a girl. Inside, I'm a girl. Legally, I'm a girl, and I have the paperwork to prove it. Being a boy... That's in the past. That's where I want to leave it." We remain in silence for the next 30 seconds before Mary stands up and walks over to me.

"Then as far as I'm concerned you are indeed a girl," she says, pulling me off the sofa and giving me a long hug, which Charlotte quickly joins in. "And a beautiful girl, too. And most importantly of all... You ARE my friend, regardless of what you were in the past."

"Thank you," I whisper into Mary's shoulder, tears still freely flowing from my eyes.

"Then I guess..." Krystie says hesitantly, "you're my friend too." I break away from the group hug and give Krystie a long hug, all of her own.

"I'm sorry I lied," I whisper in her ear.

"Are you kidding?" Krystie asks. "You didn't lie. No BOY could dance en pointe nearly as well as you can!" I laugh at Krystie's joke, the first time I've smiled since the incident in the coffee shop, and it feels so good to finally be climbing out of this hell.

"So how many other people know?" Krystie asks, earning herself a stern stare from Charlotte. "What? I've just learned something new and unexpected about one of my best friends, sue me for being curious!"

"It's okay," I say, sitting down and calming my emotions. "Just Charlotte, my parents..."

"Yeah, I'd kinda hope they realised you were born a boy," Mary jokes, causing all four of us to giggle loudly.

"...Ellen, Joshua, Paul... That's about it, really," I finish answering.

"I still almost can't believe it," Krystie says, but with a smile. "I mean, earlier this morning you were wearing a skin-tight leotard and I still wouldn't have been able to tell that you had, well, different equipment to the three of us. Assuming you two aren't keeping something from me as well?" Charlotte and Mary shake their heads at the younger woman, Mary giving her a playful whack with a cushion.

"I wear a prosthetic," I explain, "That holds everything in and gives an outwardly female appearance."

"Can I see it?" Krystie asks. This time, Charlotte shoots more than a stern stare in her direction.

"No you CAN'T," my BFF says angrily. "Jamie's had enough invasions of her privacy today."

"Okay, I'm sorry," Krystie says with genuine apology in her voice. "God, I've been so selfish, worrying only about how I feel when you must be a wreck. Who was that guy anyway?"

"Someone I knew from school," I explain. "I didn't really have any friends so I kinda got 'adopted' by a rough crowd who'd keep me around just to pick on. That's part of the reason my parents kicked me out- they used me to stash away their pot, I got a police caution for possession, my parents kicked me out, I wasn't any use any more so they kicked me out too."

"That sucks," Mary says. "And with you really being a girl inside that must've been especially tough." I have to think for a second here- when I was at school I had no idea that I wanted to be female, but I promised Charlotte a long time ago that I'd keep the circumstances of the start of my 'journey' a secret, and that's a promise I don't intend to break.

"Yeah," I eventually say, too mentally exhausted to clarify any further. "I- I think I need to lie down for a second." It's only 2:30pm but in addition to being mentally exhausted I'm also physically knackered, all the adrenaline from the confrontation having long since drained from my body.

"I'll take you up to your room," Charlotte offers, taking my hand.

"No," Krystie says softly, "I'd like to help her." Realising that Krystie and I need some time along, Charlotte nods. I'm still so wobbly I have to take my heels off as I ascend the stairs to my room, and I collapse face-down on my bed the second I enter the room.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Krystie asks quietly, to which I nod in response. "You know I'm bisexual, right? I always... I've always been slightly attracted to you, as a woman." I smirk and roll over on my bed to face the young woman.

"I'm flattered," I say, "but I'm purely heterosexual."

"Hetero as in, only attracted to boys, right?" Krystie asks cautiously.

"That is how you'd define a heterosexual girl," I clarify. "Besides which, we both have boyfriends... It'd just get awkward." Krystie giggles.

"I hope you don't mind me asking all these questions," she says, sitting down on the edge of my bed. "It's just... I don't know, really. As I said downstairs, you're one of my best friends, I don't want that to stop being the case so I feel like I need to know, you know?"

"I understand, I really get it," I say, soothing Krystie's obvious tension.

"What... What do you really want to do now, more than anything?" Krystie asks. I close my eyes and think, and only one thing springs to mind.

"I just want to have a 100% girly day," I say. "I want to pull on a onesie and crash in front of the TV. I want to have a Sex and the City marathon with my best friends. I want to paint each other's nails, style each other's hair and forget that I was ever, even for a second, male."

"Then grab your onesie and let's get downstairs and do that!" Krystie says with a smile. I sit up and hug my friend, sniffling a little as more tears threaten to make their way out of my eyes. Before too long, I've changed into my favourite onesie- a light grey rabbit one with big paws for feet and a hood with long floppy ears- and Krystie's changed into a bright yellow one I've loaned her for the day.

"Change of plans!" Krystie announces as she descends the stairs into the living room. "Shopping's cancelled, we're having a onesie party and a DVD marathon instead!" Normally, Charlotte would take great offence at being ordered around like this, especially in her own home, but after she casts a glance in my direct and sees that this is exactly what I want- no, this is exactly what I NEED right now- she immediately acquiesces.

"Onesie party!" Charlotte yells happily, giving me a quick hug before dragging Mary off to her room with her. Naturally, when they return, they're both wearing onesies similar to Krystie's and my own. We spend the next seven hours exactly the way I'd wanted- gossiping about nonsense, playing with each other's hair (my bun quickly becomes a set of fun braids) and nails, watching Sex and the City and completely forgetting about the nightmare from earlier in the day.

I settle down for bed at about 10pm (Krystie and Mary having left half an hour earlier) - I've planned to get a lot of studying done tomorrow- but before I can get down to sleep Charlotte enters my room carrying her iPad, and I can tell from the expression on her face that she doesn't have good news.

"Jamie," Charlotte says shakily. "You should see this." Charlotte hands me her tablet, and my stomach immediately sinks as I see the headline.

'The supermodel and the crossdresser- is Charlotte Hutchinson's best friend really a MAN?' The headline reads. I sigh and try to keep myself from crying or throwing up again- especially as the article than goes on to name me multiple times throughout, both by my birth name and my name as it legally is now.

"I've already had a call from Spencer & Hall," Charlotte explains. "They want to see you tomorrow morning as well." I nod as Charlotte moves to leave the room.

I barely sleep that night. Any good feelings I earned from my 'girly day' are quickly erased by the stress of my 'status' suddenly becoming not only public knowledge but public interest. For the first time in a very long while, I begin to wonder whether or not the 'journey' was even worth it...

I'm awakened just before 8am by Charlotte knocking on my door.

"Hey Jay," Charlotte says with a comforting smile. "Spencer & Hall want to see us at 10am, so we'd better get ready early. Make sure you're wearing something smart." With that, Charlotte departs to let me get ready- a far cry from the early days of my 'journey' when she'd pick out my outfit for me and do everything except dress me herself. After running through my morning routine, pulling on a lacy bra and thong, applying my poshest make-up, fixing my nails and dousing myself in an absolute cloud of my most feminine perfumes, I pick out my outfit for the day and make sure it's as feminine as possible. Eschewing tights in favour of a suspender belt and black back-seamed stockings, I pick out a pure white blouse that shows off just a hint of cleavage. A tight above-the-knee black pencil skirt follows, followed by my favourite matching peplum jacket. I slip my feet into a pair of 4.5" pointed-toe stilettos, before putting on my favourite jewellery- including the necklace my parents gave me for Christmas 2011- grabbing my handbag and heading downstairs to where Charlotte is waiting for me.

"Gorgeous. Woman," she says with a smile. "What lipstick is that?" I smile at Charlotte's compliment- whenever she asks me what I'm wearing, even if it's just the cosmetics, I know I've won her approval.

"It's actually two different shades," I explain. "I'll tell you in the car."

"I booked a taxi for us," Charlotte explains, taking my car keys from me and placing them in a nearby drawer. "I figured you wouldn't want to drive, what with everything that's happened. And..." Charlotte pauses grimacing a little. "There are... Kinda... Some paparazzi outside." My heart sinks and I frown deeply at the revelation.

"Keep your head high, look straight ahead and don't stop or slow down," Charlotte explains, putting on her expensive designer sunglasses and prompting me to follow suit. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to, I can call Spencer & Hall and see if they'd be willing to Skype instead-"

"No," I say firmly. "I can't stay holed up in here forever. Besides, I'm all dressed up now. No point in wearing such beautiful clothing and not having anyone see it, right?" Charlotte grins widely and gives me a quick hug.

"Let's do this, bestie!" Charlotte grins widely, leading me out of her front door to where seemingly every photographer in London is waiting for us. To rapid-fire cries of 'Charlotte!' and even the odd 'Jamie!' we walk past the camera-wielding men and women and into our waiting taxi, speeding off without saying a word to the reporters.

Much to my- and even more astonishingly, to Charlotte's- surprise, when we arrive at Spencer & Hall's head office, Joshua is there waiting for us. I immediately head over to the dark-skinned gentleman and apologise profusely.

"I'm so, so sorry this happened," I say to my agent, desperately trying to make sure he sees how sorry I truly am that he got dragged into this mess. Much to my surprise, however, he stops me with one of his big, beaming smiles.

"Jamie!" He says, effortlessly silencing me. "What is there to be sorry about? We're here at Spencer and Hall! They're not your boss, they wouldn't call you in to give you a bollocking, would they?"

"...And, and you're not going to bollock me either?" I ask hesitantly, causing Joshua to roar a booming laugh that makes the usually-reserved Spencer & Hall staff stare disapprovingly.

"Why would I bollock you?" Joshua asks. "You're in the press! You're big news! Do you know how much work I can get you if we handle this right?" I smile at Joshua, not quite understanding what's happening.

My lack of understanding continues as the three of us are called into Charlotte's agent's office. I sit down elegantly in my chair, crossing my legs in the most feminine manner I know as the older gentleman addresses us.

"I'm sure the three of you have seen the headlines," the man explains. "It's important we handle the next stage very carefully." Joshua smiles at me as the man echoes his earlier words.

"Jamie- can I call you Jamie?" The man asks, as I nod in response. "I do have to ask first, and feel free to decline to answer, but it will make life very difficult for both ourselves and Charlotte if you do- are the rumours true? Were you born a man?"

"Yes," I say stoically. The man simply nods.

"I see," he says. "My team has accessed your blog, Instagram and YouTube accounts, and there is nothing on there that might indicate that this was the case. A lot of people will undoubtedly feel as though you deceived them."

"Jamie-Lee is a beautiful and talented woman," Joshua speaks up. "I wouldn't have signed her if I thought otherwise, regardless of the way she was born." Even though he didn't state as such in the original interview I had with him, I later found out that Joshua knew all along that I had been born male- it's not the sort of thing you can leave off a CV, after all- but had chosen to disregard it out of sensitivity toward me. Between Joshua- born in a very conservative part of Nigeria- and Mary- raised Irish Catholic- I'm constantly reminded just how loyal my friends are to me.

"Nonetheless," the agent continues, "a lie of omission is still technically a lie. We will issue a statement on Charlotte's behalf stating that the rumours are true. Jamie, do you have a gender recognition certificate?" I smile for the first time during the meeting.

"Yes," I say proudly. "Yes I do."

"Good," the man says. "The statement will read that whilst Charlotte's best friend and flat mate was originally born male, she is now, in the eyes of the law, female, and must be treated as such by the world's press. Jamie," the man continues in a softer voice, "I realise this must be difficult for you, but you have put yourself in this position by not being open from the start. I recommend- obviously, I can't force you to do this- I recommend you go onto your blog and YouTube account and explain the situation. Anything you can do to ease the situation will help Charlotte as well and make this whole thing blow over more quickly." I nod quietly at the man's instructions. For the next ten minutes the three of us are given instructions on how to act and behave over the coming three days. The statement put out by Spencer and Hall will simply read 'Charlotte has a friend who was once male but is now legally female, end of story' or words to that effect. In a way I'm almost disappointed- As tense as this has been, Joshua's words had me almost expecting to become a celebrity in my own right, not having to play second fiddle to Charlotte for once- but I'm beginning to think that that might be more hassle than it's worth!

"Did you notice," Charlotte says as we exit the meeting, "that he- my agent- hardly spoke to me at all during that meeting?" This causes both Joshua and myself to stop and think- but Charlotte's not wrong.

"Huh, that is weird," I agree as we continue to Joshua's car (he has tinted rear windows so has agreed to give us a lift home).

"Jamie is what the press want right now," Joshua explains. "They can't find any dirt on you so they'll take whatever they can get, and it's just unfortunate that they've decided to latch their claws onto Jamie." Charlotte nods- but I can tell that inside, she's unhappy, both about the interview and about gradually being eased further and further away from the centre of attention.

Sure enough, when we arrive home, the paparazzi are still there, only this time there are considerably more calls of 'Jamie' than there were previously. I quickly head up to my bedroom and change my suit and stockings for a comfy sweater dress and tights before heading down to the lounge, where Charlotte is already huddled up on the sofa in her own dress, watching TV.

"Charlie," I say softly, sensing my BFF's irritation, "I'm sorry that this happened. Sorry if this is causing you hassle."

"No, it's no hassle being dragged before your agent at the crack of dawn," Charlotte moans sarcastically.

"I mean it," I say, desperately trying to show Charlotte how contrite I am. "I feel like this is all my fault, like maybe your life would've been better if I'd never been in it." At this, Charlotte stands up and gives me a tight hug.

"There's no way my life would've been better without you," Charlotte says, into my shoulder. "Can I tell you a secret?" I nod expectantly as we both sit back down.

"I wasn't even planning on meeting you at all," Charlotte confesses. "After I got back from getting that doctor to testify against my father. I was going to have Ellen drop you home and then you- and your quarter of a million, obviously- would have been out of my life forever. But I'm glad I didn't. SO glad I didn't."

"What changed your mind?" I ask.

"Ellen, actually," Charlotte says. "She told me how much you actually seemed to enjoy the ballet lesson she gave you, which astonished me- I mean, as far as I knew, you were a boy, after all- and then I saw that dress you wore on that date with Keith, and those stockings... I thought that maybe, just maybe you'd actually like being a girl full-time. I'm so glad I was right."

"So am I," I confess. "I just wish... I wish I could do everything that's happening now at my own pace."

"Welcome to being famous!" Charlotte says with a smile. "You're public property now, you go and do whatever it is the public tells you to." I sigh as I know Charlotte's right. I grab my own iPad off the coffee table to check it- and unsurprisingly, I find over a hundred email notifications.

"Oh crap," I mumble. "Looks like I've gone viral." Taking a deep breath, I disregard the email notifications, instead logging straight into my blog to type the apology post as recommended by Spencer & Hall.

'Hi everyone,' I begin in my usual manner. 'By now many of you will have seen stories in the tabloid newspapers that cast doubt over, shall we say, my 'legitimacy'. Let me take this opportunity to say... The rumours are true. I WAS born male. But I'm not any more. I'm sorry if this causes any offence, I'm sorry I misled you, but the truth of the matter is that in my head, in my heart, I am female. I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive, and accept me. Love, Jamie-Lee.' I put the iPad back down on the coffee table, not even bothering to read the myriad emails waiting for me.

"Was that your blog post?" Charlotte asks, to which I nod in reply. "Piece of advice: people nowadays want their information handed to them. I'd recommend scrapping the blog and doing a video instead. Just, you know, a bit of advice from your BFF the TV star."

"I'll think about it," I say, sprawling out on the sofa. "See how the blog goes first." Half an hour passes in which I try to rest and focus on the TV, but to absolutely no avail. My iPad's email notification pings at me over and over again, and I know I won't be able to ignore it forever, so I bite the bullet and dive into the messages... And they're not good.

"Oh god," I say as I read the first email.

"What?" Charlotte asks, concerned. "What is it?"

"'Why don't you die, faggot'," I say, feeling more and more sick to my stomach with every word that comes out of my mouth. "That's just the first one. 'Get off the internet, you freak', 'I hope you get raped to death'. What kind of sick person writes stuff like that? I mean, how can anyone honestly think this sort of shit?" Seeing my anger and distress, Charlotte comes and sits next to me, giving me a big hug.

"I know it's hard," Charlotte says softly, "but you have to ignore them. God knows I have horrible stuff written about me all the time, I don't even read comments on my articles any more because I know what it'll say- 'fake bitch', 'airhead' and so on."

"Yeah, but you're not fake, a bitch or an airhead," I sigh.

"And you're not a freak!" Charlotte immediately shoots back. "Or a 'faggot'. And you most certainly don't deserve to be raped to death." I close my eyes and bury myself deeper into Charlotte's hug.

"How do I make this all stop?" I ask, barely suppressing tears.

"I told you," Charlotte answers, "make that video."

Thirty minutes later, I'm sat in my bedroom, where I record all of my YouTube videos, ready to put the next chapter of my vlog on my channel. Unlike my usual outfit, make-up or dancing posts, however, this one is going to be a lot more personal.

"Hi guys," I say into the camera, forcing a smile onto my face, no matter how briefly. "Those of you who follow my blog and who still buy tabloid newspapers may have seen some rumours lately saying- and I guess there's no other way to say this- that I was born a man. And as much as I hate it, those rumours are true." I pause a minute to wipe a stray tear from the corner of my eye before continuing. "I never meant to deceive any of you and I am so, so sorry that it all came out this way. I've been living full-time as a woman since long before I started this YouTube channel. In my head and my heart, I am nothing other than 100% female. Yes, there was a time when this was not the case. There was a time when I wasn't really sure what I was. But with the help of my friends- my best friend, Charlotte, in particular- I was able to take my first few steps down the path to being the person who deep down, I always wanted to be. I never mentioned being born male because that's something from the past, and that's where it deserves to stay. Some of you may choose to dislike this video or stop subscribing to me, and if that's the case I can't stop you. All I can do is ask you to forgive me if I have offended you in any way, because I am truly sorry. I'm not going to stop posting either here or on my blog, even if I lose all my subscribers. I just... I just want to be Jamie-Lee." Blinking back more tears, I click my webcam off and upload the video. I try to concentrate on my reading for my course as a way of distracting me from everything that's happening, but once again, the pings on my iPad eventually grow so deafening that I'm forced to acknowledge them. I brace myself as I open the first email... And am astonished by what I read.

'Jamie,' the comment begins. 'Don't let the internet lowlifes drag you down. Some people will be angry at you for feeling that you deceived them but that's their problem. If you say you're a woman, then as far as I'm concerned, you're a woman. You go girl!' I type a hasty 'thank you' underneath the comment before moving onto the next one.

'Damn,' the comment reads. 'This girl's more beautiful than me and she was born a man? Life's not fair...' I giggle at the light-hearted tone of the comment and type out yet another 'thank you' in reply.

For the next two hours, all I do is type out replies to the positive comments on my video- which quickly outnumber the negative comments. Any negative comments that come through are quickly reported as spam and/or get so many people attacking the commenter that I almost feel sorry for the troll. Within 2 hours, my video gets several thousand views- and I gain several hundred new subscribers!

I head downstairs at about 3:30pm to find Charlotte, Krystie and Mary (both of whom were working earlier today) waiting for me with a rapturous round of applause that has me bawling tears of joy as I am drawn into a tight group hug.

"Come and see," Charlotte says, leading me by the hand to where her laptop is set up on the coffee table. There, on the screen, is yet another headline.

''I just want to be Jamie-Lee': Charlotte Hutchinson's transsexual friend's tearful confession to the world melts hearts and defies prejudices.' I collapse onto the sofa, mentally and physically exhausted but finally, at long last, happy.

Krystie and Mary don't stick around long- only until 6pm- and with Charlotte pre-occupied with preparing for some TV filming she's doing tomorrow, when they leave I turn my attention to my phone to see if there are any missed calls. Naturally, there are several from Joshua and some voicemails from my parents checking to see how I am, but unsurprisingly, the vast majority of missed calls are from Paul. Smiling, I tap his name on my phone. It doesn't ring for long before he picks up.

"Hey you," I say with a broad grin on my face. "How does it feel to be going out with a bona fide celebrity now?" Charlotte shoots me a quick stare before playfully rolling her eyes.

"That's what I need to talk about," Paul says sternly, causing my facial expression to drop. "I've had a lot of people calling me, asking me about you." This doesn't surprise me- on my blog and YouTube I've hardly made it a secret that I was seeing Paul.

"We've talked about this, what would happen, what we would say," I reply solemnly.

"Yes," Paul says, "but it's not just the press. I've had my parents calling me asking if I was suddenly gay. Most of my friends think I'm some sort of weirdo or fetishist now. Earlier today one of them actually slipped a gay porn mag into my work bag."

"...And you didn't think to point out that it was one of them who had to buy it?" I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

"That's not the point," Paul says.

"Then what is the point?" I ask, suddenly deeply concerned for my relationship. Charlotte also stops what she's doing, sensing that something might be very, very wrong.

"The point is..." Paul says, "I'm not sure I want to be ridiculed everywhere I go as someone who exclusively fancies trannies."

"But that's obviously not the case!" I plead as feelings of nausea start to sweep over me. "You've only ever dated girls, me included, everyone knows that!"

"I know, and I know we had fun, Jamie, it's just," Paul takes a deep breath before continuing. "I think... I think it'd be best if we didn't see each other any more." By now I'm openly crying, and Charlotte is sat alongside me, squeezing my free hand supportively.

"Best for who?" I ask, my voice quivering with every word.

"I'm sorry, Jamie," Paul says, ending the call before I can say another word. I'm flabbergasted, my mouth hanging limply open in a state of pure shock- how can you go from 'I think I love you' to 'it'd be best if we didn't see each other any more' in less than 48 hours?

"Jamie..." Charlotte whispers softly, instinctively knowing what's happened. Unable to control myself any further, I break down in tears, blubbing uncontrollably into my BFF's shoulder.

"Mary," Charlotte says into my phone, having quickly dialled our friend's number, "pick up Krystie and get back here now." Within fifteen minutes, all my friends are back at our house and we're quickly back in our onesies, eating ice cream and trying futilely to mend my broken heart.

I don't climb into bed until 11pm, checking my phone one last time just in case Paul did call back (I also call my parents back to let them know I'm alright, break-up aside). To my surprise, however, the only missed call isn't from Paul- it's from, of all people, Keith. Despite the late hour, I dial his number, and he almost immediately picks up.

"Hi Keith," I say nervously. "Is- is now a good time?"

"No, it's okay, Jamie," he says over the line. "Or should I say 'James'?" I grimace- Keith reads every article printed about his girlfriend so obviously he would now know about me.

"Technically, and legally, it's Jamie-Lee," I correct Keith. "You have to understand, this is not how I wanted you to find out, I-"

"I know," Keith interrupts. "I subscribe to both your blog and your YouTube, remember?" I sigh- this conversation was always going to be more awkward than the others.

"I think I know where this is going," I say solemnly. "Knowing that I was born a man, you don't trust me being around Charlotte, so-"

"That's not it at all," Keith interrupts again, his voice warmer this time. "Your boyfriends, lack of girlfriends, and the fact that you did kind-of give me a blowjob within days of meeting me is enough for me to trust that you want suddenly start trying to steal Charlotte away from me." I smile at Keith's response, before being reminded that I am, once again, without a boyfriend.

"First off, it wasn't 'kind-of' a blowjob," I giggle. "And second... Paul dumped me."

"Oh no," Keith says with genuine concern in his voice. "Are you alright? I always knew that guy was a twat." I chuckle at Keith's casual dismissal of my ex-boyfriend.

"I'll be fine," I sigh. "It's the first time I've been on the receiving end of a dump but I'll get over it, as long as I've got my girls. Who I'll be eating ice cream with and watching Sex and the City, nothing more." Keith laughs at my joke, helping me feel more and more at ease.

"I can easily believe you've never been dumped before," Keith says, widening my smile with his compliment. "The reason I called you was to see whether or not you were alright," Keith finally reveals. "I know Charlie has times when she feels that the media are weighing her down, and this is your first time being hounded by them like she is, so if you ever need a friendly ear or a shoulder to cry on, I'm just a phone call away."

"Even during your finals?" I ask, remembering that I probably interrupted Keith from his own studies.

"Oh whatever, everything's coursework nowadays and I'm already guaranteed a 2:2," Keith explains, eliciting another laugh from me. "You take care of yourself, MISS Jamie-Lee Burke."

"I will, I-" I catch myself before accidentally saying 'I love you' to the man for whom I still harbour strong feeling. "I promise."

"See you soon," Keith says.

"You too," I say with a smile, ending the call. I put my phone back on my bedside table and stare briefly at the spot where, for several months, Paul would lay asleep after making love to me. I rub his 'spot' gently for a second before grabbing 'his' pillow and unceremoniously throwing it onto the floor.

"Keith's right," I say defiantly. "You ARE a twat." I move my own pillow into the centre of the bed and snuggle in for the night by myself.

I'm awakened by my mobile phone just after 7:30, but much to my surprise, it's a call rather than my alarm.

"Hello?" I say groggily into the phone.

"Jamie!" Joshua's eternally cheerful voice greets me. "Can you get to Waterloo for 10am?"

"Um, I guess," I say, blinking the tiredness out of my eyes. "What's up?"

"Philip Schofield and Holly Willoughby are!" Joshua near-shouts excitedly. "They want to interview you on This Morning!"

"Couldn't you have given me more notice?" I ask, getting out of bed and heading to my shower.

"They wanted you for tomorrow's show but BBC Breakfast want you on tomorrow so I convinced them to bump you forward," Joshua explains. "Strike while the iron's hot! You're the darling of the media now after that amazing video of yours, let's get you loads of fame and fortune whilst it's there for the taking!" I smile as I strip off my nightie and prepare for my morning routine.

"I'll be there," I say, much to Joshua's delight. "Do they want Charlotte as well?"

"Nope," Joshua says proudly. "Just my favourite model!"

"Your favourite CURRENT model," I correct my agent.

"My favourite ALL-TIME model!" Joshua booms happily. "Just don't tell Charlotte that!" I grin as Joshua hangs up, before the nerves begin to sink in- in just under four hours, I'll be live in front of millions of viewers. What would I say? What would I wear?

After finishing my morning routine and pulling on fresh make-up and underwear, I knock on Charlotte's door, waking her up and causing her obvious irritation.

"What is it?" She complains as she rubs the sleep from her eyes. "Couldn't you have put on something more than a bra and panties before coming in here?"

"That's what I need your help for," I say, dragging my BFF out of bed and along the landing to my bedroom. "I'm going to be interviewed on This Morning in just under 3 hours and I need to know what to wear!" Charlotte's jaw drops at the revelation.

"Oh. My. God!" She exclaims. "I didn't hear anything about this!"

"I only just found out myself from Joshua," I say as I throw open my wardrobe.

"This," Charlotte says confidently, pulling out a tight-fitting light grey top, "and this skirt," Charlotte continues, holding out a dark grey pleated miniskirt. "Translucent black tights, black boots. You'll look STUNNING."

"Thanks!" I say, taking the items from my BFF and giving her a quick hug before changing into the designer clothing. After earning Charlotte's approval, she gives me a crash course ahead of my first ever live television interview!

The taxi whisks me away to The London Studios on the South Bank, and I arrive just before 9:45am. I'm a bundle of nerves as the researcher greets me and tells me what will be expected of me during the interview.

"Phil and Holly will talk briefly about your life," the young woman explains. "They'll ask a few questions about growing up, when you first realised you wanted to be a woman, how you met Charlotte." This is good I'm being asked this in advance so I don't have to improvise on the spot in front of millions of viewers. "They'll also talk briefly about your resemblance to Charlotte, and some of the parties you've hosted recently- just so viewers can get an insight into the real Jamie-Lee."

"Okay," I say with a smile.

"Most importantly," the researcher says, "relax, remember to smile, and most of all, try to enjoy yourself!" I grin widely as I'm left alone with my thoughts. Before too long, however, I'm installed in the sofa on the set of the show, facing two people I've been watching on TV for as long as I can remember. Both Philip and Holly try to set my mind at ease before the interview begins, but once we're live on air they're both the professional on-screen faces the country has come to know and love, introducing me and beginning our chat.

The interview only lasts nine minutes but feels like an eternity as I'm probed about my past, my present and my hopes for the future- according to the official story I started cross-dressing aged sixteen (after being kicked out by my parents, something I don't mention), met Charlotte aged nineteen through a mutual love of ballet (apparently I always wanted to be a ballerina), started transitioning and ended up where I am today. All the pieces fit in really well and I remember my advice to smile and relax- and I do definitely enjoy my time in front of the camera. When the show cuts to commercial and I'm led off the stage, however, I'm a nervous wreck.

"You did brilliantly," the researcher assures me as I take a much-needed sip of water. "You were a complete natural in front of the camera and I could tell Phil and Holly really liked talking to you."

"Thanks," I sigh, trying to calm myself down. "How do people do this day in, day out?"

"You'll have to ask a presenter that, I'm just a researcher!" The young woman laughs and leaves me to my own devices. When I leave the studio- walking past several paparazzi, who I take the time to smile for- and jump in the taxi back home, I check my phone and an unsurprised to find that there's a missed call on my phone from my mum. I ring the number back and instantly smile as my mum answers her phone.

"Hi Jamie!" Mum says proudly. "I could've sworn I saw someone who looks almost exactly like you on the TV less than an hour ago, but that couldn't be the case as daughters call their parents before appearing on live TV, don't they?" I giggle at my mother's teasing.

"No, that was me," I confirm to my mother's delight. "I only got the call at 7:30 this morning, I barely had time to get dressed and get to the studios!"

"Then you'll have to come round so we can watch it when your father gets home!" Mum orders, making me giggle yet again.

"I wish I could," I say, "but I've been ordered to pack an overnight bag as I'm going to be on BBC Breakfast tomorrow, so I'm off to Manchester in a couple of hours!"

"Do you know which hotel you'll be staying in?" Mum asks, to my surprise.

"I think so," I answer. "Joshua's booked me a twin room in a premier inn."

"Twin room?" Mum asks rhetorically. "Good. I'm coming with you."

"Umm, that's really not necessary," I complain.

"Nonsense," mum counters. "You looked calm on screen but I know my daughter and I know you were a nervous wreck. You'll be even more of a nervous wreck first thing in the morning. When's your train?" I sigh, knowing I can't talk my mum out of the trip.

"Just after 3 from Euston," I say defeatedly.

"I'll see you then," mum confirms. Sure enough, when I arrive at Euston station with my overnight bag (containing about 4 different outfits!) in tow, mum's waiting for me there and greets me with a loving parental hug.

"I hope you've got everything you'll need," my mother fusses. "Clothes, toiletries, make-up?"

"Yes, mum," I moan like any other 21-year old girl with an overly protective parent. "You know, you really don't have to come with me, it's not the first time I've stayed somewhere overnight."

"Oh we'll be fine," mum insists. "It'll give me a chance to catch up with my celebrity daughter!" I smile as we board the train to the north of England and settle down into our seats.

"I'm HARDLY a celebrity," I sigh. "I'm just... in the right place at the right time."

"Well you deserve all the fame and fortune you're getting," mum states. "God knows you haven't had it easy. It's about time things started going your way."

We arrive in Manchester just after 6pm and, after getting dinner, head straight to our hotel. My interviews going to be just after 7am, meaning I have to be up at 5am- which is pure torture for a model! As settle into our beds for the night, mum has one final piece of advice for me.

"Don't let yourself get swallowed up by the media," mum cautions. "It's all fun and games now but you don't want to end up like these people who eat insects in the Australian jungle for money."

"I won't," I promise my mother. Deep down inside, I know she's right, but I so, so desperately want to enjoy my fifteen minutes of fame while they last. A text message from Charlotte containing a web link only strengthens my resolve when I open it and read the headline.

'Jamie-Lee Burke looks confident and sexy in knee-high boots as she leaves the This Morning studio', reads the headline on the same website that almost no time ago was insinuating that I was nothing more than a drag queen.

"Turn your phone off, for god's sake!" Mum chastises from the adjacent bed. "You've got an early morning tomorrow!" Smiling, I click my phone to silent and try to settle down for some sleep.

I barely stagger out of bed at 5am at my alarm's prompting, shuffling over to the tiny hotel bathroom for my morning routine (and having a minor panic before I remember where I packed my hormone pills). It's a challenge getting ready in such a cramped space, as opposed to my comparatively palatial en-suite back home, but despite a few hiccups (such as a few angry bangs on the wall from the hotel blow-dryer being too loud), when I leave the hotel just after 6:15am I am every bit Jamie-Lee the sexy and successful fashion model. My hair is tied up into a loose but sexy updo, my make-up and nails are, as always, immaculate, my red lipstick complimenting by subtle eye shadow. I'm wearing a short black dress with long lacy sleeves, and translucent black tights cover my legs with high-heeled ankle booties also covering my toes. I go through the same routine yesterday of being briefed by the researcher ahead of the interview itself- this time, rather than talk about my life, the interview will focus on being a transgendered person in the modern world, and what help there is on offer to young women (and men!) who are struggling to find their own identities. I'm not sure what advice exactly I can offer, but I quickly remember that not everyone can have a 'Charlotte', someone to back them up, and I quickly come up with one piece of advice.

"No matter how alone you feel," I say live on television in front of millions of viewers, "there will always be someone out there who understands what you're going through, even if it's just your GP, someone on the end of the telephone or even someone on an internet forum. Make sure you don't suffer in silence, and make sure you don't let yourself get pressured into being someone you don't want to be."

My interview concludes shortly after my 'words of wisdom', and I stumble off the set as nerve-wracked as I was the previous morning. Fortunately, mum's on hand to give me a calming hug and lead me back to the hotel. Unsurprisingly, my phone rings a few minutes later, and when I answer the phone, my dad's voice comes down the line.

"You were brilliant, Jamie," dad says, pride flowing through every syllable. "You really come across well on TV, even if your dress was too revealing." I giggle at my father's words before he continues. "Now when are you coming back to London? All my friends are asking about 'my new daughter the celebrity' and are eager to meet her!"

"We'll be back soon, I promise," I say, my heart filled with happiness. "I... kinda promised mum I'd treat her to a little shopping trip in Manchester, that's all." Dad accepts this and hangs up, but mum is understandably confused by my deception.

"You didn't promise me a shopping trip," she says.

"I know, but..." I begin, sighing heavily as I continue my confession. "I don't want to go back to London, not just yet anyway. You're right, pretty soon I'm going to be public property, I just want one day out as mother and daughter- like we should've done when I was younger?" Much to my relief, mum smiles warmly and nods.

"Then that's what you'll get," she states. "Though you're the high-flying celebrity, you're paying!" I giggle as we get ready for our day of shopping!

We eventually collapse back down on the train back to London at 1:30pm, several shopping bags in tow. I also treated mum to a makeover and a manicure whilst in Manchester, which will no doubt come as a big surprise to dad! Before I even have time to breathe, though, my phone rings yet again.

"Better get used to that!" Mum jokes as I check the caller ID- it's Joshua.

"Jamie-Lee, megastar!" My agent greets me as I answer the phone. "What are you doing tomorrow?" I quickly remember, through the haze of the last few days, that tomorrow is Friday- and Joshua will be expecting me in work.

"I'll be in at 9am," I say wearily, still exhausted from my early morning and impromptu shopping trip.

"Wrong answer!" Joshua commands. "Capital FM want you on their drive time show!" I sigh as I remember my mum's earlier advice- not to let myself be swallowed up by the media.

"Can- can you run all future bookings by me before accepting, please?" I ask hesitantly.

"Of course!" Joshua says, not losing an ounce of his trademark cheer. "But this is your chance, Jamie! The country loves you! Let's make millions whilst we still can- a few months from now you may even be bigger than Charlotte!"

"Just as long as a few years from now I'm not wolfing down crickets in a jungle in Australia," I retort, making Joshua laugh.

"No no no," Joshua happily replies. "In additional to being too beautiful and talented you're much too smart for that! Now get yourself back to London so your public can adore you!"

"Let me guess," mum asks as I hang up the phone, "another appearance?"

"Yep," I say wearily. "Capital FM tomorrow afternoon."

"Well, at least it's London and you'll get the chance to sleep in tomorrow," mum points out. I finger my phone for a few minutes before hastily composing an email.

"Who's that to?" Mum pries.

"Doctor Phillips," I answer stoically. "I just- I just need to get things off my chest I can only say in a doctor-patient kind-of environment. No offence, you understand."

"None taken," mum says. "And god knows you're paying her enough money!"

When we arrive back sat Euston dad's there waiting for us. Much to my surprise, he comes up to me and wraps me up in a big, fatherly hug before driving me back home where- along with a couple of paparazzi- all my friends are waiting for me. After unpacking and changing into a slouchy but oh so comfortable denim miniskirt and hoodie, I collapse down on my sofa, only to be instantly wrapped up in a hug from Krystie.

"You're so awesome!" Krystie squeaks in my ear as I try to pry myself away from her. Much to my horror, however, Mary immediately joins us on the sofa and turns the hug into a near rugby-tackle.

"Aahh!" Mary squeals in my ear. "Now I have two super-celebrity best friends!" I glance briefly up at Charlotte and whilst she's smiling at me, I can tell from her eyes that she isn't 100% happy. Whether she's jealous of my current success or even feels threatened, I can't tell, but I do know for sure that all is not well. Much to my relief, however, she simply rolls her eyes and joins in the group hug.

"I couldn't have done any of this without you," I whisper in Charlotte's ear. "Thank you so, so much."

"Don't forget it," Charlotte near-threatens, before calling off the group hug and settling back down. Deciding to let the 'threat' slide, I enjoy the rest of my girly night before turning in at around 10:30pm, and being reminded yet again that whilst I may have almost everything a girl could want, the man I thought I loved was missing- and STILL hasn't made any effort to contact me after our last phone call.

I switch off my alarm at 7:30 and happily roll over in bed, happy that Joshua's granted me the day off to deal with more personal matters- though of course, as far as Joshua's concerned, it's to give me time for more media appearances! I eventually roll out of bed at 9am and run through my morning routine, happy to be back in my own bathroom. After applying a light layer of make-up, I decide against a bra and thong, opting for a white sleeveless bodysuit instead, on top of which I pull on a pair of thin tights and a light patterned shirt dress. I'll change into something sexier for the radio- as silly as that sounds- but for now I just want to be as comfortable as possible. I pull on a pair of ballet flats and grab my handbag and car keys before heading downstairs. The paparazzi are all gone from outside, and whilst I'm relieved, a part of me is slightly disappointed that my fifteen minutes of intense fame already appear to have ended. Heading into my driveway, I muse for a while about how quiet, how normal- how almost boring things seem now.

I arrive at Dr. Phillips's office 20 minutes early- the usually chaotic London traffic being a lot calmer than normal for some reason- and take a seat in the waiting room. I'm not in there 5 minutes before I'm interrupted.

"Hi," the strange man says cautiously. "I hope you don't mind me asking- are you Jamie-Lee Burke?" I smile warmly at the stranger.

"Yeah," I say, feeling oddly proud about being recognised by this man I’ve never met. "Nice to meet you." I offer the man a handshake, which he happily accepts.

"Wow, I have the same psychiatrist as a celebrity," the man says. "I'm Stuart, Stuart Milton." I smile at the guy briefly before returning my attention to my smartphone.

"You know, what you said in BBC Breakfast yesterday really struck a chord," Stuart explains. "Sometimes it's nice to know there's someone else who understands."

"I don't follow?" I say, confused by the way the stranger is walking.

"Well you know what Dr. Phillips's specialism is, right?" Stuart says with a laugh. "Would it surprise you to know that six years ago my name was 'Claire' and I was the not-so proud owner of a vagina?" My jaw drops at the revelation- there was no way I would've picked Stuart for anything other than 100% male. He has a deep voice, muscle definition, a flat chest- even a light layer of stubble on his face!

"You're kidding," I breathe. Stuart simply chuckles.

"The wonders of testosterone," Stuart reveals. "Much like the oestrogen pills I'm guessing you take?"

"Why would you want to change from being a girl to being a boy?" I ask, confused by the notion.

"Better pay for starters," Stuart quips. "More comfortable clothes, less social pressure when it comes to how you look. Better television... Why would you want to change from being a boy to being a girl?"

"Better television," I say, poking my tongue out at Stuart, who simply laughs again.

"No, you're not arguing that Sex and the City is better than Top Gear," Stuart says dismissively.

"More comfortable clothes," I continue. "Better work... Just an all-round better lifestyle, really."

"I guess we're going to have to agree to disagree there," Stuart says, getting out his own smartphone. "I know this is going to sound odd, given that- and correct me if I'm wrong- we're both pre-op?" I nod, prompting Stuart to continue. "But would you, you know, maybe like to, perhaps, get a drink some time?" I smile at the surreal scene of one pre-operative transsexual asking out another pre-operative transsexual of BOTH opposite genders.

"Yeah," I say with a smile. "That might be fun." After exchanging email addresses with my new friend I'm called up to Dr. Phillips's office, where she's waiting for me with a smile on her face.

"I saw you on Breakfast yesterday," Beverly says with a warm smile. "Your email said you wanted to see me because you're feeling overwhelmed by what's happened the last few days, with the media and what happened with Paul?"

"I was," I confess, thinking fondly of my brief run-in with Stuart. "But I think I'm starting to feel better." I have a smile on my face as I talk things out with my psychiatrist. Yeah, things are different. Things are manic. But I can cope with it. I have people who love me, people who will always be there to tell me just how important I am, both to them, and to myself.

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

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

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

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

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

"That tomorrow you might stop being so hyper and on edge?" Charlotte asks sarcastically.

"EXACTLY," I say, slowly lowering myself into my chair in front of my dresser and adding additional polish to my make-up. My look tonight is 'high glamour'- extra-thick eye shadow and eye liner, my biggest fake eyelashes and the deepest crimson lipstick I own. When combined with my hair- tied into a professional updo- and my extra-long blood-red nails, I have a look any woman would die for, and any man would kill to spend the night with. But I'm not finished there.

In addition to my torturously tight satin corset- which is also holding up dark silk stockings with four garters to each leg- I have on my most frivolous lace g-string and a strapless lace bra that's underwired enough to almost push my usually 'perky' breasts up, together and out. With Charlotte looking on approvingly, I step into the expensive strapless red dress I've selected for my date, allowing Charlotte to fasten it shut at the back, ensuring none of my lingerie is visible above the top (but that most of my breasts are!) and my new corset-powered curves are on display for all to see. I finish off my look with 5" red stiletto pumps, an expensive red clutch and my most expensive jewellery and perfume.

"I'll not wait up," Charlotte teases, earning herself a stuck-out tongue from me.

"There's no guarantee the date will lead to sex," I say.

"Jamie," Charlotte sighs, "dressed like that, even I want to have sex with you. You'll be lucky if Jon doesn't just come right then and there in the restaurant."

"He'd better not, if the rumours are true," I giggle as I grab a stole and head downstairs to where my taxi awaits me. Even though it's late evening, it's also June, so it's plenty warm enough that I don't need a coat to cover up and therefore ruin my carefully-prepared look.

It's not long before I arrive at the restaurant where my date is waiting for me. After walking inside- past a couple of paparazzi, naturally- I quickly spy the handsome young gentleman waiting for me at a small, intimate table, and when he catches sight of me, his eyes go wide with (hopefully pleasant) surprise.

"You look STUNNING," Jonathan- my date- says as he holds out my chair for me to sit down- which takes longer than normal, thanks to my corset!

"I mean," Jonathan continues in his thick London accent, "you literally stunned me when I saw you. Me and probably every man in this restaurant!"

"Thanks," I say, examining the menu. "You're looking especially sexy yourself tonight!"

"If it wasn't Saturday, you'd never be able to tell I hadn't just come from work," Jonathan jokes. "One suit fits all occasions, heh."

"Doesn't mean you don't look DAMNED sexy in that suit," I say, smiling a wide, crimson smile. Jonathan grins bashfully and examines his own menu.

"I'm so glad my uncle set us up," Jonathan says, his shy demeanour contrasting sharply with the outward imagine of a tall, athletic and EXTREMELY sexy young man.

"I'm kinda surprised he did, in a way," I confess. "I mean, he's been my boss for over two years, he always struck me as the kinda guy who doesn't mix business with family."

"Uncle Joshua thinks of you as family," Jonathan says. "He thinks of all his favourite clients as part of an extended family, and you've brought him so much work I kinda think he wants you to legally be part of the family as fast as possible!"

"One step at a time," I tease, eliciting a knowing smile from my date.

Needless to say, we eat quickly- savouring our expensive meal, but skipping dessert to allow time for the 'real' part of the date. Almost as soon as we enter the front door of Jonathan's spacious city-centre apartment, our tongues are down each other's throats and we're quickly undressing each other. I brace myself as I reach for Jonathan's fly, unzipping it and allowing the entire length of his penis to enter my hand- and there is a LOT of it.

As you may have inferred from his being Joshua's nephew, Jonathan is of African heritage- born and raised in Britain, but of Nigerian descent- and like any woman, I'd heard the old adage 'once you go black, you don't go back', and assumed it was just an old wives' tale.

...That is, until I gave his crotch a playful squeeze on the conclusion of our second date and got probably the biggest shock of my life. After over a year of thinking Paul's 7 inches was more than adequate, feeling something over ten inches long and at least one and a half times as wide as Paul's penis spring into my hands made my eyes go wide with shock and lust. Lust that I intend to satisfy tonight. This is my first sexual encounter of any description since my break-up with Paul, and I intend to make the absolute most of it.

With Jonathan now completely naked and me naked save for my corset and stockings (and technically my vagina panty too, if you count that), I lead Jonathan into is bedroom and sink to my knees, suckling the glistening head of his fully-erect penis. Jonathan moans with desire as he begins to slowly pump his groin in and out of my mouth. I remember another old wives' tale and squeeze my left thumb into my left palm, suppressing the urge to gag as Jonathan quickly reaches the back of my mouth. It's a trick I've used before- one of Paul's favourite 'videos' of me (which had better no longer exist, or my ex is in big trouble) is of me all but swallowing a 12-inch long flexible dildo over and over again. Needless to say, that video was NOT one of my favourites.

Realising that I'm not going to be able to take all of Jonathan whilst knelt down, I release him from my mouth before laying down on his bed, on my back, with my head leaning over the edge. Catching on to what I have in mind, Jonathan kneels down, thrusting his penis back into my mouth, taking advantage of the perfectly straight channel that's been created. I wince a little as I feel my throat bulge from his entire length entering it, but that soon gives way to intensely erotic feelings as I tighten my lips around his shaft and slowly run my tongue along his penis. With Jonathan now almost ready, I feel him withdraw fully from my mouth and hear the familiar sound of latex covering skin. I roll over onto my stomach and slowly come up onto all fours as I feel Jonathan apply cold lubricant jelly to my anus. Seconds later, he enters me, and I see flashes of light before my eyes as I'm stretched to my absolute limit by his sheer size.

It doesn't take too long for us both to orgasm, but once we're both done and Jonathan's withdrawn from me, I find myself in actual pain from the love-making. It subsides quickly, but I feel almost disappointed by how much the 'encounter' took out of me. Before too long- and after Jonathan's thankfully loosened and removed my corset- we fall asleep in each other's arms in his bed.

We're both up early the next day- it's still a Sunday, so it's still my regular 'dinner with the parents' day, only today I have the added awkwardness of introducing them to my new boyfriend- a boyfriend I'm not 100% sure I'm going to keep. I pull my bra, dress and shoes back on (stuffing the rest of my clothing- including the corset- into a bag) and head down with Jonathan to his car, where he drives us back to my house- a car ride that's conducted in awkward silence.

After following my normal morning routine (including a much-needed shower), I fix my make-up, pull on a comfortable cotton bra & panty set (my backside is still a little too tender for a thong) followed by a clingy long-sleeved top and a loose, knee-length black skirt, followed by a pair of 4"-heeled cork wedges. Normally I wouldn't wear such high heels to see my parents, but Jonathan is 6' 3", and I don't want to look like a midget when I'm stood next to him!

The whole thing only takes about twenty minutes, but when I return downstairs to where Jonathan's waiting alone in the living room (it being a Sunday, Charlotte & Keith are both at church), he's clearly bored out of his head. Even before I became a celebrity, I was used to leaving boys restless with anticipation- but with Jonathan, sex has obviously extinguished the spark that had been there. Whilst it's something I've heard of- Krystie has said it's happened to her once- it's never something I envisaged happening to me.

"Hey," I say, approaching Jonathan with a smile on my face.

"Hey," he says, forcing an obviously-fake smile onto his bored face. "Are you ready?"

"Yep," I say, following Jonathan out into the hall before sighing and stopping. "Wait," I say with a heavy voice.

"What's up?" Jonathan asks.

"This- this, between us," I begin. "...It's not really working, is it?"

"Did I hurt you last night, is that it?" Jonathan asks, clearly concerned that he'd done something wrong.

"No, that's not it," I lie. "It's just... I don't know. Maybe it's too soon after Paul, but I just don't feel the connection with you that I did with him."

"...I kinda feel the same way," Jonathan confesses. "I mean, my uncle says 'go out with Jamie, she's this massive celebrity now', and I think 'yeah, sounds fun', but... I don't want to go out with you just because you're rich and famous, I'd want to go out with you because I really like you, and-" Jonathan winces as he realises what he said. "Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean it like that, I just-"

"No, it's okay, I get it," I say with a smile, before extending my hand for a handshake. "Friends?" Jonathan smiles and softly grips my hand.

"Friends," he says, though I can tell he is slightly disappointed by the development.

"On the plus side, there's no obligation to come and meet my parents now!" Jonathan chuckles with relief as we both head out to our respective cars. "And just to set my mind at ease... Was that your first time trying anal last night?"

"A gentleman never kisses and tells," Jonathan says with a smirk, before getting into his car. "See you round, Jamie-Lee."

"See you round, Jonathan," I say with a sigh as I get into my car, newly single again for the second time in as many months.

...Not that I haven't had multiple offers. Ever since my multiple interviews in mid-April my nationwide fame hasn't stopped growing. I'm in demand for TV appearances- and have already recorded an appearance for an upcoming episode of Celebrity Juice, which was an AMAZING experience- and have been approached by at least two teen magazines to write columns, both on my experiences as a transsexual and my lifestyle in general- and I don't know the first thing about writing! My studies have suffered somewhat as a result of this, but fortunately it being an Open University course, I can afford to take extra time to finish it.

Joshua's also been supplying me with extra modelling work and has all but banned me from doing my usual part-time receptionist work. In fact he's joked that he's been going through work experience girls at a rate of knots just trying to keep up with the demand for me! In addition to modelling for big-name brands and high street labels, I've even been called in to do the odd endorsement here and there, including one for a big dancewear company who've supplied me with more leotards than I'm ever likely to wear!

A lot of the reason for this may be Charlotte's birthday party last month. Even though she was the undoubted star of the show and Krystie, Mary & I were mere backing dancers, the press made a lot of the sight of me- someone born male- dancing as elegantly as any classically-trained ballerina, even if it was just for a few minutes. When photos appeared on international dance websites of me en pointe in my full White Swan regalia, the endorsement offers began flooding in. When no photos of Charlotte appeared on those sites, though, life started getting a lot more awkward. Yes, photos appeared in the national press- but they were careful to capture both of us in the frame. The same applied whenever we were snapped on our usual girls’ nights out, or shopping- the national press seems to be treating us as equal partners in our 'womance', rather than me being Charlotte's sidekick. And Charlotte, ever the alpha-female, is not happy about this development, no matter how much I try to stroke her ego or remind her how much I owe my lifestyle to her. To make matters worse, with both of us out of the house working most days, we barely even get to see each other any more, not like the old days...

Krystie and Mary, for their part, have been ecstatic about being the best friends of two nationally-famous women, and have been taking bets over which of them will be the next 'media darling'. Krystie's even gone as far as to ask for another ballet-themed party for her 21st next month- her favourite ballet has always been the Nutcracker, and Charlotte and I have collaborated to make her the most perfect Sugar Plum Fairy costume of all time. The party will of course be good publicity for the ballet school Krystie's just opened, which is already attracting students of all ages (Krystie's even told me that one of her adult students is a transwoman, as though I somehow knew every transgendered person in London). I was happy to lend Krystie the money to get the school started- my TV appearances are making me a healthy amount of income, much more than my modelling career ever did- but when I offered to go halves with Charlotte, she was extremely reluctant- almost as if she didn't want her friend to become successful on her own terms.

Probably my closest confidante since my rise to fame, however, has been Stuart. As you may have inferred from the fact that I was seeing Jonathan and not him, Stuart and I are not a romantic item- in fact, Stuart's recently been on several dates over the past couple of weeks with the also newly-single Krystie! Whilst Stuart did accompany me to the prom we eventually did hold at the start of May, we decided it'd be best to remain friends, and even though Stuart is doing his level best to be as stereotypically boyish as possible- and has actually made close friends with Keith and his 'gang', where he's charmingly known as 'male Jamie' because of his transsexual status- he is a very good listener to whom I can open up freely about all the things happening in my life.

I knock on my parents' front door and my dad welcomes me in with his normal awkward not-quite-a-hug embrace.

"Can't help but notice there are no boys on the front doorstep," dad quips as mum brings me through a much-needed cup of tea.

"Eighteen months and you're finally getting it!" I joke, kicking off my wedges and tucking my legs underneath me on the sofa.

"You know what I mean," dad tuts, rolling his eyes.

"Jonathan and me... Were never really going to work," I say with a tinge of sadness.

"Oh Jamie, I'm so sorry," mum says, sitting down next to me and placing a comforting arm around my shoulders.

"It's fine, really," I sigh. "Some things are just doomed from the start, and me and Jonathan obviously fall into that category. Maybe it's too soon after Paul, I dunno."

"God, please tell me you're not still hung up on that arsehole," dad says bluntly. I sigh again and stare down into my tea.

"Maybe, I dunno," I concede. "Sixteen months is by far the longest relationship I ever had and by the end... I really thought I loved him. With Jonathan, that just wasn't there."

"You don't need a man to be happy," mum tells me.

"You could've waited until I left the room before saying that," dad interjects with mock-offence.

"JAMIE doesn't need a man to be happy," mum corrects, forcing a smile onto dad's lips.

"Better," my father says. "And I agree 100%. You're a beautiful, successful young woman regardless of whether you have a boyfriend or not. Never forget that."

"Believe me, I won't," I say happily.

"Now," mum says with an excited tone, "did I read correctly on your Facebook that you'd be doing a performance of The Nutcracker next month?" I giggle as mum- always excited by my ballet adventures- probes me for information for the rest of the day.

By the time 5pm rolls around, I find myself not wanting to leave the place that was, up until recently, just somewhere to come once a week, but which is becoming more and more 'my home' with every visit. With no boyfriend, and with things between me and Charlotte growing ever tenser, I find myself craving the stability of home life, even if I have spent the last two years trying my best to show the world that I am an independent woman. But I know I have to head 'home' to face Charlotte at some point today. I try to ease the tension, I make a point before leaving of setting my Facebook status to 'single' (previously that bit had been left blank). I switch my phone onto silent, not wanting to deal with the inevitable influx of concerned comments on my update, and drive home, where Charlotte is waiting to greet me in the entrance hall.

"Hey Jay," Charlotte says without any of her usual enthusiasm. "I noticed your Facebook update- should I call the girls over and tell them to bring their onesies?"

"Not this time," I reply, taking of my shoes and plopping myself down on my sofa. "Me and Jonathan decided it was best to nip it in the bud now rather than spend weeks, or even months, trying to force something that was never going to happen."

"That's a very mature attitude," Keith says, clearly pleased that his 'little sister' is once again not being 'defiled' or however he sees my relationships.

"...Or she STILL isn't over Paul," Charlotte says smugly. I sigh as I check my phone- and inevitably, there are dozens of notifications- messages of support for my new 'single' status. Messages from Keith, Charlotte, Krystie, Mary, Stuart, and even my parents, who'd I'd only seen minutes before- but not a peep from the man I called my boyfriend for sixteen months. I hate to admit it, but Charlotte may be right.

"Not even so much as a bloody text since he dumped me by phone," I whine, prompting Keith to leave the room and return seconds later with a small pot of Ben & Jerry's for me to tuck into.

"No ice cream for me?" Charlotte pouts.

"You don't need it," Keith says, wrapping his arms around Charlotte in a loving embrace that I deeply wish had been given to me. "I'm never gonna dump you." Charlotte grins widely and snuggles up to her boyfriend whilst I spend the rest of the evening coolly my sorrows with ice cream...

As a fashion model- and, I guess, now a celebrity- normally I make a point of watching my weight, and 150ml of ice cream does contain a lot of calories. Fortunately for me, Charlotte's remodelled our last remaining spare bedroom into a functional gym, so I swap my skirt & top for a sports bra and a pair of cycling shorts, and spend the rest of the evening working up a sweat on the various pieces of equipment- a much more preferable (albeit much sweatier) alternative to watching the latest chapter of Keith & Charlotte's love-in. Keith's been accepted onto a Master's course at a university in London, so he and Charlotte are now officially co-habiting. The press are naturally treating this as the latest great celebrity romance- even though they've been going out for seven years- and Keith has even found himself profiled in several teen magazines. Keith, of course, hates this, as he worked hard at his education and is gaining fame purely because of his looks and his association with Charlotte. The ironic thing is that he can't actually open up to Charlotte about- but always comes to me with any problems he may have, despite the fact that I'm barely more experienced at this lifestyle than he is!

I'm happily pedalling away on the exercise bike when Charlotte strolls in and parks herself on the weight machine (which I don't recall her ever having used).

"You know," Charlotte says sarcastically, "you could always NOT eat all that ice cream."

"If my butt gets big, I know who I'm blaming," I reply, making Charlotte chuckle. Two awkward, silent minutes pass before Charlotte speaks up again.

"Are you- are you okay, Jamie?" Charlotte asks in a far more sensitive tone than she usually adopts.

"Of course I am!" I say, trying (but not fully succeeding) to sound sincere. "Why would you ask?"

"I dunno," Charlotte concedes. "It's just that, ever since your 'big reveal'... You've been kinda different, kinda distant, you know? It seems like the only time I see you is when I'm watching one of your YouTube videos. I dunno if it's Paul or your enhanced workload, but... I feel like I'm losing my BFF, and I don't want that to happen." My pedalling slow as Charlotte talks- her words have more than struck a chord with me.

"I don't want that either," I confess as tears begin to well in my eyes. "But you have Keith living here full-time now, you don't need me..." As I speak, Charlotte walks up to me and all but drags me off the bike, pulling me into a tight hug.

"Of COURSE I need you!" She says, sniffling into my shoulder as I sniffle into hers. "I want things to be like they were when we first met, you know? We'd stay up all night watching DVDs, compare notes on our modelling shoots, gossip about boys... What happened to us?"

"I think... I think we grew up," I sigh.

"Ugh," Charlotte spits. "I swore to myself I'd never do that. Tell you a secret?"

"Go on," I reply.

"Sometimes I wish this whole 'celebrity' thing would just go away," Charlotte confesses, sitting on the now-rider less exercise bike. "Sometimes... I just wish I could go back to being plain, old Charlotte Hutchinson."

"You're rich enough to do that, if that's what you really want," I remind my BFF.

"Yeah, as if the press would let me," Charlotte snorts, allowing her ego to start shining through once again. "We- we need to make more days just for the two of us, like we used to do in the old days."

"The 'old days' you're talking about were only two years ago!" I giggle. "Though I agree with you, it feels more like ten. But yeah, something for just the two of us, like Australia last year. I'd love that."

"Then it's settled!" Charlotte commands. "You and I are going on holiday, just the two of us, no press, no work, and definitely no stupid boys!"

"Now THAT I can definitely agree on!" I say with a cheer, hugging Charlotte again.

I head to bed not long afterward- I've got an early morning tomorrow- but I bring my iPad into bed with me, looking up holiday destinations and pestering Charlotte over Facebook messenger with suggestions until I finally fall asleep just after midnight!

As usual for a Monday morning, my alarm wakes me up at 8am- I don't have any work today, but in less than an hour, Ellen, Krystie & Mary will arrive at our house and I need to be changed into my ballet gear long before that happens. Annoyingly, despite me having a new pile of colourful leotards, Ellen (and Krystie for that matter) is a stickler for protocol so after my usual morning routine, I'm forced to pick out a plain black leotard to go over my pink tights, though I do pick one with cap sleeves and a very low back, just to give me some individuality! Krystie & Mary arrive a few minutes later, already dressed in their uniforms but carrying large bags containing their street clothes, and I immediately drag Krystie up to my bedroom to tie my bun in what has become a sort-of pre-class ritual- she's much better at tying buns than I am, and has told me that she loves playing with my hair so much that we just decided it'd make much more sense to do it this way!

Ellen arrives a short while later and we start our lesson, focussing mostly on our upcoming Nutcracker-inspired performance. We still have some work to do- we've only been practising for a couple of weeks, after all- but Krystie's birthday isn't until the end of July, and all four of us have had plenty of dance experience, so we're confident we can make it work by the time of the big show.

After Ellen leaves, Krystie takes over, and immediately makes an announcement to the three of us.

"Girls, one of us is newly single," Krystie says, smiling slyly in my direction, "and she DIDN'T call us around for a onesie party last night, so I figure we'll just have the party now!" With that, Krystie pulls four thin, footless one-piece pyjama sets out of her clothing bag which the four of us dutifully pull on over our leotards.

"I'm really not THAT heartbroken," I say as I zip up my pink onesie, doing a couple of piques en pointe to get a feel for the garment.

"Also, how are you going to judge our form in these baggy things?" Charlotte complains.

"Oh form, schmorm," Krystie complains, pulling on her own onesie and grabbing me for a playful pas de deux, with Krystie- being three inches taller than me- playing the part of the man!

We dance on our onesies for the next hour- being immensely thankful in the hot June weather that the studio is well air-conditioned- before Krystie departs, having to head off to her studio to give some 'proper' ballet instruction, and Charlotte disappears to start work on her latest 'secret project', about which she is of course keeping us all in the dark. With the two of us at a loose end for the rest of the day, Mary and I quickly swap our leotards for sunglasses and flimsy bikinis and- after applying some sunscreen to each other- head down to Charlotte's pool, where Keith's been lazing for the past two hours.

"Don't," Keith warns as Mary and I sneak up behind him, fully intending to tip him out of his sun lounger and into the pool!

"FINE," I sigh with mock-exasperation, dragging a spare lounger over to the pool and stretching my hairless body out on it.

"Don't you have to be in Manchester tonight?" Keith asks, gazing in my direction.

"Not until late, the show is until 11am," I explain, relaxing as I absorb the Sun's rays. "Technically I could travel up tomorrow, if I didn't mind getting up at 6am."

"What's stopping you from doing that?" Keith asks, earning himself an exasperated stare.

"I mind getting up at 6am," I say, making it perfectly clear I'm stating the blindingly obvious. "Have you ever tried getting Charlotte out of bed at 6am?"

"Multiply it by ten and you get early-morning Jamie!" Mary jokes as she tops up her sunscreen.

"I don't recall you being that perky first thing in the morning either," I retort to my giggling Irish friend, remembering the long weekend us four girls spent in Cadiz last November.

"Maybe not," Mary concedes, "but I didn't literally roll from my bed to the bathroom!"

"I was hung over!" I complain to no avail as Keith joins in the giggling. Defeated, I lay back on my lounger and try to relax.

"How does it feel to actually be able to wear a bikini?" Mary asks, bringing a sly smile to my face.

"Utter bliss," I confess as I roll over and allow the sun to tan my back.

"What's this now?" Keith asks, confused.

"Chlorinated water ruins my prosthetic," I explain. "So I can't wear it underneath a bikini, only a one-piece, and Paul would absolutely refuse to touch me if I wasn't wearing it, so he's probably the only boyfriend in the world who's never seen his girlfriend in a bikini!" I giggle, before correcting myself. "Who HAD never seen his girlfriend in a bikini."

"His loss," Mary says confidently.

"Everything about me is his loss," I say smugly as I grab my phone out of my pool bag and start playing with it.

"If you're texting him right now, I'm taking that phone and hurling it in the pool," Mary states firmly.

"Oh please," I retort dismissively. "I'm just checking Facebook. HE'S the one who needs to come crawling back to ME."

"Atta girl," Mary congratulates me.

"Sooo..." Keith says after a brief pause, "you're telling me you're NOT wearing your, um, prosthetic right now?"

"Nope," I say with a confident smile.

"So if your bikini bottoms were to fall down, I'd see-" Keith asks, before I angrily cut him off.

"You'd see your own hand covering your eyes to preserve my modesty," I answer firmly and in maybe a sharper tone than is absolutely necessary. "I'm sorry, just- can we change the topic, please?"

"Sorry," Keith concedes. "Sorry, I know this must be a sensitive topic for you."

"My arsehole ex-boyfriend and my genitals?" I ask. "About as sensitive as it gets!"

"How about this, then: What show are you going to be on tomorrow?" Keith asks, instantly regaining a spot in my good books.

"Some daytime lifestyle show," I explain. "On one of the fifty-digit Sky Channels or something. It has a small viewership but a pretty consistent one, they want me to go on and talk about make-up and stuff. Easy money, really."

"...And if you don't want to do it, I'll happily cover for you!" Mary offers with a chuckle.

"I'll get you on TV soon, I promise," I say, chuckling at Mary's openness.

"No rush," Mary sighs, rolling over onto her front and untying her bikini at the back. "Can someone top up my sunscreen? Damn thing about having Irish skin is there's a very thin line between 'healthy tan' and 'burned to a crisp' and I'd prefer to stay on the right side of it!"

"Sure," I say, hopping off my sun lounger and smearing the cool cream into Mary's back, chuckling as Keith desperately tries to avert his gaze!

"You’re not going to see anything here either," I laugh. "And even if you do, we promise not to tell Charlotte!"

"It's so good having another girl do this," Mary sighs as I rub her cream into her back. "Every time my boyfriend does it I'm amazed I don't come out in bruises all over my back. Not exactly good when I'm modelling strapless dresses all day tomorrow."

"You know," I muse, "this is gonna sound silly, but I actually miss just getting dressed up and posing in front of a camera. I was talking about this yesterday with Charlotte, actually- we all seems to be getting too old too quickly."

"Well as I'm the oldest of us, thanks for that," Mary laughs sarcastically. "You know I'm actually kinda envious of you, and not just 'cause of the fame and the endless supply of work, but of the university stuff. You really seem to know where you're going with your life. Krystie too, what with her teaching and all."

"Hey, you're a successful, sexy model," I reply, making Mary sigh happily. "That's a pretty good destination for your life, right?"

"Yeah, and it's one that's going to dump me like a bad smell once I'm thirty," Mary mutters. "I want to do something like you and Krystie. You know I always thought I'd make a good secondary school teacher when I was younger. I've got four elder siblings so I'm used to being in a crowded place with unruly teenagers, heh."

"Why don't you go for it, then?" Keith interjects with a smile. "You've told me before you've got qualifications, go enroll at university, get your degree and qualification and just do it! There's bound to plenty of clearing places available over the summer."

"I dunno," Mary sighs lazily. "It's a lot of time and expense..."

"I'll lend you the money," I instantly offer. "I loaned Krystie the money to start up her school, you're one of my best friends too, it seems only fair."

"I couldn't ask you to do that," Mary complains futilely.

"The hell you can't," I laugh. "It's decided. When you apply for uni- I'm lending you the money so you don't have to mess around with student loans for the rest of your life."

"Oh okay, you twisted my arm," Mary says, making us all chuckle as she re-ties her bikini and I take her place on the sun lounger, smiling at Keith's discomfort as she applies extra sunscreen to my back.

We talk about our futures for the next fifteen minutes until Dan (Mary's boyfriend) and Stuart arrive, both quickly stripping down to their swimming shorts. Mary, of course, quickly runs over to her boyfriend to give him a kiss- and he responds by scooping her bikini-clad body up in his arms and jumping in the pool! With Mary 'busy' in the pool with her boyfriend and Keith & Stuart quickly deciding to cover up and go indoors to play videogames- despite the Sun being GLORIOUS today- I decide to stop being a fifth wheel and head indoors to pack for my trip.

The mandatory four outfits find their way into my pink overnight case, along with my toiletries, cosmetics and pills, and after changing into a white crop top and a short dunagree-style dress, I check in on everyone before leaving. Sure enough, Stuart and Keith are still engrossed in their stupid game- though in a way I can sympathise with Stuart's need to feel like he's 'one of the boys', in much the same way I tried hard to fit in as 'one of the girls'. For every step of that particular journey, I had Charlotte by my side- Stuart doesn't really have a BFF, at least not until now, so I can forgive him preferring the company of other boys for now. Mary & Dan are still at poolside, with Dan topping up Mary's sunscreen just as I had earlier.

I take a deep breath, grab my bag and head out of the house, musing over the conversations I had with Charlotte yesterday and with Mary earlier today- I may be getting older and more settled in my life and my career, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy every step of the way!

I arrive in Manchester just before 8:30pm and check into my hotel, tiredly collapsing on the double bed before connecting my iPad to the hotel's Wi-Fi and checking my Facebook. After noticing that Stuart was online, I shoot him a quick message.

"Hey," I type.

"Hey," comes the near-immediate response.

"Didn't get to talk to you much today," I reply, a contented smile on my lips. "Everything okay with you?"

"Fine," Stuart replies. I roll my eyes and type my response.

"Are we doing one-word only replies today? :-)" I type.

"No," comes his response, followed a short while later by a ":-p" emoticon.

"Lol," I type, whilst legitimately laughing out loud. "You with Krystie right now?"

"Nah," Stuart replies. "She's round at Mary's, think they need a boy-free night."

"Heh," I reply, feeling a little down inside that a girl's night- for that is undoubtedly what's happening- is going on without me.

"You in Manchester?" Stuart types, making me smile that he's at least paying SOME attention to my life.

"Yep," I answer. "Back at Chez Premier Inn. Have to be up at 7am tomorrow, ugh."

"I'll think about you when I sleep in," comes the sarcastic reply.

"Don't worry," I retort, "I'll remember to call you at 7am to make sure you're awake!"

"Deserved," Stuart concedes, before a brief pause in the conversation. "Is everything okay with you, Jamie? You don't normally bury yourself in Facebook when you're staying in a hotel."

"Bored," I reply. "Need human company, even if it just on messenger."

"There's a whole city outside your window," Stuart types. "Go out and conquer it. :-) Okay, admittedly they are northerners..." I giggle at Stuart's joke.

"Maybe next time," I type. "Besides, a friend's worth a thousand strangers."

"Very true," Stuart replies.

"And a best friend's worth a million strangers," I continue. "And I feel like I'm losing my BFF."

"You and Charlotte been fighting?" Stuart asks. Fortunately I know him well enough to know when he's concerned, even if the cold text of an instant message doesn't convey that emotion.

"Not fighting," I reply. "I just miss the old days when it'd just be me and Charlotte. Now Keith's living with her, we're both shooting off to opposite corners of the country every day, now she's got this secret project that she's not letting me in on, even after we fought over my uni and her strictly last year..."

"I can't speak for Charlotte," Stuart replies, "but you know how much Krys loves you. Mary too, for that matter. Both of them religiously watch every second of TV that you're on. I don't remember them ever saying they do that for Charlotte."

"I love them both dearly," I admit. "But Charlotte was the first to really embrace 'Jamie-Lee'. It's fair to say without her, there wouldn't be a Jamie-Lee." Stuart begins typing a reply, but it takes almost three minutes to finally come through to my iPad.

"It's not her inspiring T-girls and T-boys around the world," Stuart types. "Charlotte may have given you your start but everything else is all Jamie-Lee. She should consider herself fortunate to have such an amazing friend as you. God knows I do." I actually have to blink tears out of my eyes as I read and re-read Stuart's message. For someone so determined to be a stereotypical boy, he's one of the most amazing and sensitive people I know.

"Thank you so much," I say out loud at the same time I type it into the screen.

"Now you get some sleep!" Stuart commands. "I actually had to retune my Sky dish to pick up that channel you're on tomorrow, it had better be worth it!"

"I'll make you all proud!" I type with a smile on my face. "Night, Stu."

"Night, J-L," Stuart types as I close down the app on my iPad and get ready for bed.

I wake up and perform my usual 'morning hotel routine'- a cut-down version of my normal morning routine- before picking out my TV outfit for the day, a cute pink dress and matching heels. The dress is formal with a short, straight skirt, but retains a playful quality with short sleeves, a low neckline and a small peplum. Before I leave, I paint my nails the required ten different shades of red, pink and black for the show, before grabbing my things, checking out of the hotel and heading to the studio.

Over the last two months I've become so comfortable in front of the camera that it's almost become second nature to me to talk expertly about cosmetics and fashion in front of an audience of thousands. The continued success of my blog and YouTube channel- which is fast approaching a hundred thousand subscribers- means I'm in constant demand, and on some TV appearances- today's included- my transsexual status isn't even raised. I'm introduced simply as 'Jamie-Lee Burke, model and fashion and beauty blogger'.

My piece lasts less than half an hour but at the end of it I'm itching for more, the nerves that accompanied my early TV appearances having long since evaporated. As usual, when I switch my phone back on after leaving the studio, I'm inundated with Facebook messages, texts and missed calls. In what has become a post-TV tradition for me, I phone the number that has, as always, left the most missed calls.

"Hi mum!" I excitedly beam as I climb in the taxi back to Piccadilly station.

"Jamie!" Mum gushes. "You were beautiful and brilliant as always! And I'm not the only one who thinks so!" After a bit of muffled scratching, a new voice quickly forces its way onto the phone.

"Jamie," dad says with clear pride in his voice, "you were absolutely brilliant today. You're an absolute natural in front of the camera, even if your dress was too low-cut!" I giggle at my father's almost stereotypical overprotectiveness of his daughter. "When is that agent of yours going to get you a hosting gig? You're clearly good enough and confident enough, it's about time the world sees that on a regular basis!" I laugh at my father's continued adherence to stereotypes, this time the 'my daughter is the best in the world at everything she does' stereotype.

"I've got a missed call from him," I say. "He doesn't usually call after a gig, so maybe this is it?"

"It had better be!" Dad says with a chuckle. "You get yourself home safe, Jamie. I love you."

"I love you too," I say with happy tears in my eyes. "And mum. I'll see you soon, I promise." I click off my phone and relax all the way back to London, a warm, contented feeling in my heart. Over the last 24 hours, I've been reminded just how much I'm loved by all the important people in my life. All but one...

"Great show today," Charlotte says coolly as I drag my weary body across my front door just after 4pm. I may not get nervous on shows any more, but regular 200 mile commutes are just about as much as my body can take!

"Thanks," I say with a warm smile as I head upstairs to unpack and change. "You get up to anything today?"

"You'll find out," Charlotte says with a sly smile.

"Oh come onnnnn," I mock-plead, deliberately stroking Charlotte's ego the way I know she likes. "I thought we weren't doing this any more, not after last August?" Charlotte simply chuckles at my fake-distress.

"I'll tell you soon, I promise," she says smugly, retreating into the living room and snuggling up to Keith on her sofa. I quickly change my dress for a comfortable t-shirt and denim miniskirt before heading downstairs and collapsing onto my sofa. I'm only allowed ten minutes of relaxation, however, before our front doorbell rings.

"Who the hell's calling tonight?" Keith ponders as he gets up to answer the door. "I thought the guys and girls were all busy tonight?"

"That's... What I assumed," Charlotte says, casting a wary glance in my direction that I pretend to ignore.

"Keith Hartley!" A familiar London-Nigerian accent booms from our front doorstep. "Bring me my superstar!" I get off my sofa and pad across the entrance hall to where my agent is stood with a wide, beaming grin on his face.

"Joshua?" I ask, confused by his presence at my home. In the two and a bit years I've worked for him, he's never dropped by before, and by the look on Charlotte's face, it's clearly something he never did for her either.

"Jamie!" Joshua exclaims happily, entering our house and wrapping me in a big, friendly hug. "Let's go for a drive!"

"Um, I'm barely dressed," I complain, feeling slightly embarrassed by my super-casual look, especially in front of Joshua who is, as always, wearing one of his expensive tailored suits.

"You're fine!" Joshua insists. "Grab some shoes and let's go!" Confused, I grab a plain pair of flats and follow Joshua out to his expensive Mercedes, loving the feel of the cold leather on my warm, smooth legs as I lower myself into his passenger seat.

"I- I'm sorry things didn't work out between me and Jonathan," I say, worried that the split might have upset Joshua in some way.

"You weren't mean to be together, not every couple works out and I know he'll be fine," Joshua says as he pulls away from our house. "But that's not why I'm here. I'll come right out and ask it: how would you like to work for Spencer and Hall?" My jaw drops as Joshua unleashes this wholly unexpected question on me.

"Umm," I stammer. "Wh- wh- they- Spencer and Hall!?" Joshua laughs a loud, booming laugh at my confusion.

"They love you!" Joshua reveals. "They got onto me today saying 'we want Jamie on our books, name your price'!"

"Um, and you'd be okay with this?" I ask, prompting another laugh from Joshua.

"Do you know how much exposure Charlotte got for me when she signed with them?" Joshua asks. "If I send a second model their way in as many years people will be knocking my door down to get on my books!"

"I- I thought I couldn't model for them," I say, the shock and confusion still overwhelming my body. "Because of my breasts, my cosmetic surgery..."

"They'll use you for something other than modelling, then," Joshua says candidly. "TV presenting, maybe? The camera loves you, Jamie. You're a natural, it's about time you got a regular hosting job!" I smirk as Joshua- the closest thing I had to a father figure before my reconciliation two Christmases ago- mirrors the words said by my real father mere hours ago.

"I'm only 21," I say, realising that my counter-arguments are getting feebler with every word I say.

"Kelly Brook was only 19 when she hosted the Big Breakfast," Joshua states. "Fearne Cotton was only 15, and you've got the potential to be bigger than both of those girls!"

"I- I don't know..." I say, desperately trying to take in what Joshua's telling me. A job offer from Spencer & Hall is a big deal, a seriously big deal. They turned Charlotte from a model to a superstar almost overnight, and Joshua's clearly under the impression the exact same thing would happen to me if I were to sign with them.

"I can't force you to sign with them," Joshua says. "But I can give you advice, as your agent- TAKE. THIS. OFFER." Joshua bangs his steering wheel, emphasising every word he says. "You will be a millionaire very quickly. I promise you that. And if you're worrying about abandoning me, don't! When they see you sign for Spencer and Hall, I'll get every model in the country begging to be let onto my books!" I take a deep breath before replying.

"...It's Charlotte I'm most worried about," I sigh. "You know how... Worked up she can get if she feels someone's trespassing on her turf."

"She's lucky to have you as a friend," Joshua repeats Stuart's words from last night. "But don't worry about her."

"Easy to say when you don't live with her," I quip, prompting another a booming laugh from Joshua.

"Very true!" Joshua happily concedes. "I'll drop you home, talk it over with Charlotte if you need to. We've got an interview at Spencer and Hall tomorrow. I'll pick you up at 10:30. Make sure you wear something more appropriate than a t-shirt and a denim mini!" I giggle at Joshua's mock-reprimand.

"I'll be ready," I say, confidence building within me. True to his word, Joshua drops me home fifteen minutes later, barely pausing for breath as he describes what to expect from the Spencer and Hall interview- little knowing, of course, that I've already sat through two on Charlotte's behalf myself!

I take a deep breath as I enter the living room, dreading how the woman I still consider my BFF will react to my news.

“Hey Charlotte,” I begin nervously, trying to stop my voice from trembling with fear. How much must our relationship have descended that I’m afraid of talking to the one woman in the world I should trust the most?

“Hey Jay,” Charlotte replies. “What was up with Joshua?”

“Can- can I talk to you in private, please?” Confused, Charlotte unwraps herself from Keith’s arms and follows me to the kitchen, where we both sit. “God, you look terrified! Has Joshua fired you or something?” How typical of her that she’d automatically assume the worst.

“I wanted to tell you this first before I make any decisions,” I explain, only strengthening Charlotte’s confusion. “The reason Joshua needed to see me… Is because I’ve been offered representation by Spencer and Hall.” Charlotte’s stoic face doesn’t move a muscle for the next ten seconds as she sits still, staring at me.

“I see,” she says in a clipped voice. “I should’ve expected that, really.” I smile at Charlotte’s words, wrongly assuming them to be a compliment.

“You really think so?” I ask, prompting a dark stare from my housemate.

“Of course!” She answers, anger starting to seep into her voice. “I mean that is the way it’s going, isn’t it? Everything I have, you want, and you’re determined to get! No, in fact, everything I have, you’re determined to get handed to you on a silver f**king platter!” I sit back, stunned by my friend’s unwarranted outburst.

“I- I didn’t ask for this,” I try to explain to no avail.

“No, of course you didn’t!” Charlotte spits. “Never mind the fact that my father had to bribe that place half a million pounds just to get me an interview, precious Princess Jamie just flutters her eyelashes and they bend over backwards to accommodate her! Pretty ironic, don’t you think?”

“That’s not the way it is!” I plead, tears starting to form in my eyes as Charlotte grows angrier and angrier.

“No of course it isn’t,” Charlotte mocks, “because precious Princess Jamie says it isn’t! You disgust me! Acting all sweet and innocent, all ‘oh this is such a shock, I can’t believe this is happening to me’ when this is what you wanted all along! Hey, how about I just dump Keith so you can take him away from me too?”

“Charlotte, please!” I yell, desperately trying to defuse the woman’s rage.

“You know,” Charlotte continues, bile dripping from her voice. “They always say ‘there’s always someone better out there somewhere’. I just never expected that someone to be a fake woman I made myself!” I take several deep, silent breaths to try to stop my own anger from rising as Charlotte cuts me with this most personal of insults.

“What’s going on?” Keith asks, bursting into the kitchen. “I heard raised voices, is everything okay?”

“It’ll be fine,” Charlotte spits, “once this… THING! Gets out of my sight!” Tears begin to roll down my cheeks as the woman who used to be my best friend repeatedly stabs me through the heart with her words.

“Come on, come on,” Keith says, clearly uncomfortable with his girlfriend’s words. “Let’s go upstairs, try to calm yourself down.” Charlotte silently leaves the kitchen, not even looking me in the eye as I slump back into my chair, nauseated and deeply wounded by Charlotte’s words.

I eventually drag myself upstairs and into my room a short while later, collapsing on my bed and trying to put the day’s events out of my head. I’m only alone for a quarter of an hour, however, before I hear a gentle knock on my door. I involuntarily bristle as Charlotte pokes her head around my door.

“What do you want?” I ask, barely disguising the hurt in my voice.

“That’s fair,” Charlotte concedes. “That’s perfectly fair. I- I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was such a bitch, such a monster.” My face softens as I see that Charlotte’s contrition is genuine.

“Apology accepted,” I mumble as Charlotte parks herself on the edge of my bed.

“I know I shouldn’t be so jealous,” Charlotte explains as I listen intently. “I mean, it’s not like Spencer and Hall are going to fire me just so they can sign you, that’d be silly.” I try not to bristle at Charlotte’s casual dismissal of my work as she continues her explanation.

“It’s just-“ Charlotte continues, before letting out a long, heavy sigh. “I don’t know. I just figured- I just always thought you’d always need me. I know how silly that sounds.”

“Nah,” I say, a warm smile creeping onto my face.

“You know I’m an only child,” Charlotte explains, seemingly forgetting that I’m also an only child. “I kinda liked being a big sister. Now, I dunno, I have to settle for being a ‘twin’.” I giggle at Charlotte’s semi-explanation.

“Well, we do look enough alike to pull it off,” I joke, making Charlotte chuckle.

“We used to, I dunno about now,” Charlotte laughs. “If anything, you probably look MORE feminine than I do!” I laugh with my BFF, the same laugh we’ve shared countless times over the last two and a bit years.

“So you don’t want me to start packing then?” I jokingly ask, prompting Charlotte to slide down the bed to me and wrap me in a tight, friendly hug.

“Of COURSE not!” Charlotte insists. “I told you on Sunday, you’re not a third wheel, you’re my best friend and I NEED you in my life!” I sigh as I return Charlotte’s hug, cementing our latest reconciliation. This is far from the first time we’ve ever fought, and it’s probably not the biggest fight we’ve ever had, but this one cut the deepest. What Charlotte said to me… It was personal. INTENSELY personal, and I have to believe Charlotte was aware of every word she was saying whether or not she ‘saw red’. And I can’t help but feel that while Krystie went out of her way yesterday to make me feel better after my separation from Jonathan, and Mary, Stuart and even Keith will always check in on me of their own volition to make sure I’m okay, Charlotte had to be prompted- almost certainly by Keith- to make this apology, as genuine as it may have been.

I eventually nod off at 10:30pm, nerves about tomorrow’s interview pulsing through my body, but at nowhere near the level of nerves about the future of my friendship with Charlotte…

I wake up before my alarm goes off at 8am and quickly run through my morning routine before picking out my outfit for the day. In my mind I've run through numerous scenarios where I get invited to attend an interview for Spencer & Hall and I must've imagine a hundred different outfits I'd wear to the interview, but now that the day is here I'm at a loss as to what to actually wear for the big event. Joshua said 'appropriate' but it needs to be something more... individual than a plain skirt suit, whilst at the same time being appropriate for wear in an office. I decide to split the difference and wear a dress with a matching jacket. The dress is light blue and short- coming to just lower than mid thigh- but high-cut enough that I don't have cleavage spilling out everywhere. It is form-fitting, however, so I pull on a waist cincher and tighten it before zipping myself into the dress. I attach nude stockings to the garters of the waist cincher- you can't be bare-legged at an interview- and pick out my footwear for the day. The dress works much better with boots than with shoes, so I spend twenty minutes umming and ahing over where to pick out a pair that's above the knee or below the knee, before settling for a pair that comes to just below my knee. The boots have a zip side and a very high heel and are EXTREMELY sexy, especially with this dress! I repaint my nails a dark obsidian colour and brush my hair out, holding it back from my face with a slim Alice band in the same colour blue as my dress and jacket. My look screams 'sexy' and 'individual' in equal measure, just as I'd hoped.

As promised yesterday, Joshua is waiting for me outside at 10:30am with a big smile on his face.

“Beautiful Jamie!” Joshua booms as he opens the passenger door of his car for me. “I still cannot believe this is the last day you’ll be working for me!” I giggle as I sit down in his car, Joshua dutifully closing the door.

“I haven’t decided I’m going to sign for them yet,” I reply.

“Then decide quick!” Joshua insists. “They won’t want an answer immediately, but the sooner you say yes the sooner you’ll be a millionaire!” I chuckle at Joshua’s bombast- he’s not the calmest man in the world at the best of times but I’ve never seen him this excitable.

Much to my embarrassment, paparazzi are waiting as I enter Spencer & Hall’s palatial office building. I smile as the cameramen and women snap photo after photo of my elegantly-dressed body as I calmly stride into the offices, Joshua in tow. We’re only left waiting five minutes before being called up to the office where my interviewer- the same man who interviewed ‘me’ two years ago- is waiting for us.

“Jamie, Joshua,” the man says, shaking our hands as we take a seat opposite him. “Thank you for coming at such short notice.”

“Not a problem at all,” Joshua insists, his smile permanently plastered to his face.

“As I’m sure Joshua told you,” Graham- the interviewer- says to me, “we at Spencer and Hall have been very impressed with the way you’ve been conducting your media career so far. You’re calm, mature and confident in front of the camera, and- with all due respect to Joshua’s skills as an agent- we feel we will be able to market you so that you can gain maximum exposure both in Britain, and potentially worldwide.” I nod, prompting Graham to continue.

“Your ‘position’ is unique,” Graham explains. “To my knowledge there are no transsexual TV hosts in the UK, at least no regular ones, and certainly none as camera-friendly as yourself. We wouldn’t market you purely as ‘the transsexual host’, but we feel it would help open doors that would otherwise be closed to you.”

“I understand,” I say, slightly offended that my ‘status’ is being described as a marketing tool, but understanding the logic of the man’s argument.

“The opportunities ahead of you are limitless,” Graham explains. “We want to market you as someone who wants to be an ordinary girl who loves ordinary girl things.”

“That’s not a million miles from the truth!” I giggle, bringing a smile to Graham’s face.

“To that extent,” the sharply-dressed man continues, “we have a plan all laid out for you. Within two months, you will be the host of your own lifestyle show. Within four months, you’ll have launched your first single.”

“I- I can barely sing,” I complain.

“Neither could Charlotte,” Graham chuckles. “Not before we got her the best singing coach in the country to help her with her music career.” So THAT’s where she’s always disappearing to…

“Charlotte has a music career?” I ask, causing Graham to sigh.

“Oh damn it,” Graham says, shaking his head. “I do wish that girl wouldn’t constantly do that.”

“I- I’m sorry, I don’t understand…” I say, prompting Graham to smile at my confusion.

“Charlotte told me she wanted to embark on a singing career,” Graham explains. “So we helped her out by hiring a singing coach, preparing all the publicity, etc. etc. We’re planning a big launch later this month and told Charlotte to keep it quiet, but the trick of marketing, especially with big launches, is to try to make the people you’re launching to think they know what it’s all about before you officially unveil it. We’d hoped that she’d have told you- her best friend- then it’d get leaked in a small way so that people would show up for the big launch eager to have their suspicions confirmed rather than confused as to what’s going on. A bit like she did with her Strictly appearance last year.”

“It’s the secret to good marketing,” Joshua confirms. “You’ll no doubt find out similar in your studies.” Joshua brings another point I needed to make to mind, which I immediately raise.

“…And my studies…?” I ask hesitantly, bringing a smile to Graham’s face.

“You can of course continue your studies in your own time,” Graham replies. “Your work for us will, of course, take precedence, but having you studying at university, showing that you’re brains as well as beauty? It can only increase your marketability.” I nod, and take a deep breath.

“I think I’m going to need time to take this all in,” I explain.

“That’s perfectly understandable,” Graham says with a friendly smile. “We don’t normally headhunt clients, but your case is unique and special. You’re highly loved and respected by the British media. Let’s take advantage of this.”

“And make millions!” Joshua interjects, bringing forth a laugh from Graham.

“Yes, that too,” Graham chuckles. “Is there anything you want to ask me?” One thing immediately springs to mind that I find myself asking before I can control my tongue.

“Can you get me on Strictly?” I ask, before blushing at my over-eagerness.

“Not this year,” Graham says matter-of-factly. “But we can certainly look toward getting you on next year or in 2015. You wouldn’t be the first transgendered contestant anywhere in the world but you would be the first on the British show, which we can use to great advantage.” I nod, still desperately trying to absorb the information.

“Take your time before making this decision,” Graham says. “You will be working hard, very hard for us, but it’s work that you’re more than capable of doing and you will make vast quantities of money.”

“…How much, exactly?” I ask.

“In your first twelve months you’ll make somewhere in the region of £200 000,” Graham says, almost knocking me out of my chair with shock. “That figure will only increase as you get more and more famous.”

“By comparison,” Joshua interjects, “with me you’ll be lucky if you 45 grand a year.”

“That’s still more money than I’ve ever known,” I breathe, staggered that my time would be worth THAT much money.

“You’re worth every penny and more!” Joshua reassures me as Graham hands me his card.

“This is my number,” Graham explains. “Call me once you’ve made your decision.”

“I will, I promise,” I say as Graham shows myself and Joshua out of his office.

“You MUST take this offer!” Joshua insists as we climb back into his car.

“I- I need to talk it over, with Charlotte,” I say, still stunned by the amounts of money being discussed.

“Never mind about her!” Joshua says dismissively. “This is Jamie-Lee’s time!” Everything Joshua says makes sense to me. Before today, if you’d offered me 200 grand a year, I’d have happily taken it regardless of the cost. But with mine & Charlotte’s relationship now more strained than ever… Some things are more important than money.

After Joshua drops me at my home, I’m surprised by the presence of two large box vans in our driveway delivering food and drink.

“Hey Jay!” Charlotte says with a warm and yet slightly smug smile on her face. “Never mind these guys, they’re just delivering stuff for the party tonight.” Needless to say, this has me pretty confused.

“Umm, what party?” I ask, carefully stepping around all the bags and boxes.

“Oh, sorry,” Charlotte says in a tone that can only be described as condescending. “I just thought, now that you work for Spencer and Hall, they’d have told you?” I inwardly sigh- whilst I’m always up for a party, Charlotte’s undoubtedly thrown this one last minute at least in part to spite me.

“I haven’t signed with them yet,” I say, heading up to my room to get changed. “What’s this party for?”

“It’s a surprise,” Charlotte says with a smug smile, all traces of last night’s contrition erased from her face. I have to bite my tongue to prevent myself from saying ‘What, your singing career?’

“What time will it start?” I ask, playing along with Charlotte’s charade for now.

“Just after 8,” Charlotte says with a smug smile. “Wear something sexy, I’m expecting some press to be here!”

Heeding Charlotte's words, I head up to my room and take off my boots and dress suit (and my waist cincher!), pulling on a slouchy t-shirt dress before getting ready for the party. After enhancing my make-up and painting my toenails black to match my fingernails, I pull on a short black cocktail dress and a matching pair of torturously high platform stilettos, before putting on a pair of sexy gold earrings and my most expensive jewellery. After applying some of my sexiest, most feminine perfume, I take a couple of photos for my blog and my Instagram, before heading downstairs just after 8:15pm to find several people already here, including a few famous faces, Radio 1 DJs and a couple of singers who’ve recently been on the X-Factor- all but confirming my suspicions as to the purpose of the party. Needless to say, Krystie and Mary are already here, accompanied by Stuart and Dan Respectively, both looking sexy in their designer shirts and trousers.

“Hey, Jamie!” Krystie greets me with a quick hug as I elegantly swish into the main room.

“Hey Krys!” I say, happily returning the hug. “Has Charlie made her big announcement yet?”

“She isn’t even here yet,” Mary jokes. “Only she’d be fashionably late to her own party. Still, gives me more time to network with all the celebs!”

Sure enough, five minutes later, to great fanfare, Charlotte sweeps into the room in a very short, low-cut dress, instantly attracting the attention of all the reporters and photographers in the room, eager to know why she summoned them all at a moment’s notice. Charlotte, of course, is keeping her cards close to her chest. Once she’s finished with her public, Charlotte makes a beeline straight for myself & the girls.

“Hey Jay, hey girls,” Charlotte says with a very smug smile on her face.

“Great turnout tonight!” Mary says, grinning widely. “Got a lot of big names here, can’t wait to hear your announcement!”

“Just a little longer,” Charlotte giggles. “This is going to be SO awesome, even bigger than the party I had after my first Spencer & Hall job!” Charlotte looks at me slyly as she says this last sentence, almost as if she’s daring me to rain on her parade.

“Now be fair, you were only nineteen back then,” Mary reminds Charlotte. “God knows if I signed for them I’d probably take out a full-page ad in a newspaper and party for a week!”

“Make that two weeks for me!” Krystie laughs. I bite my tongue- I’m so desperate to tell the girls about my offer from them that it almost hurts but I know I can’t ruin Charlotte’s night. There’ll be plenty of time for that later.

“So Jay,” Charlotte says smugly, “how long will you party for when you accept the offer Spencer and Hall made you?”

‘Shit!’ I think to myself as Krystie and Mary both gasp at the news. I roll my eyes and answer.

“I haven’t accepted their offer yet,” I remind Charlotte as the girls fawn over me.

“Oh my god!” Krystie exclaims. “This is so awesome!” In my peripheral vision I can see Charlotte staring daggers at me.

‘You’re the one who brought this up,” I think to myself, shooting a sly smile back at my ‘BFF’. ‘What happens next is all on you.’

“Yeah, they said I’m in a ‘unique position’ in the British media,” I explain. “They want to market my ‘uniqueness’, get me hosting my own show…” I look pointedly at Charlotte before saying the next sentence. “…Even want to launch a music career for me.” Charlotte bites her lip, clearly seething with rage.

“Oh my god!” Krystie exclaims again. “That’ll be so cool, you’ll be in the charts!”

“Yeah, a music career?” Charlotte snaps sarcastically. “That’ll be soooooooo cool!”

“…Charlotte?” Mary asks, surprised by Charlotte’s sudden behaviour.

“Never mind the fact that I got here first,” Charlotte yells, raising her voice and inadvertently attracting the attention of everyone in the room. “Never mind the fact that you wouldn’t have JACK SHIT if it wasn’t for me, you just sit there and take everything I WORKED HARD FOR!” I don’t think I’ve ever seen Charlotte this furious. This one isn’t going to be resolved with a conversation on an exercise bike…

“You’re the one who brought it up!” I remind Charlotte, inadvertently raising my own voice. “Why can’t you just be happy that I’m making a success of my life?”

“BECAUSE IT’S MY LIFE!” Charlotte screams in my face. “I’M the one who’s meant to be the millionaire! I’M the one who’s meant to get all the TV experiences! I’M the one who’s meant to get the music career! ME!” By now, the entire room is stunned silent by Charlotte’s outburst. Part of my brain is screaming at me to walk away, but my own ego demands an answer to just one question.

“…Then what do you keep me around for, exactly?” I ask.

“To make me look better by comparison,” Charlotte states coldly. I don’t know whether to cry, scream or tear my own hair out in anger and frustration. Charlotte’s always had an ego on her, but right now she’s behaving like a borderline sociopath. I can see everyone else is shocked by her outburst as well.

“Well excuse me for not doing a good job of that right now!” I snipe back.

The next few seconds pass by in a blur. The last thing I remember clearly is Charlotte’s snarling face lunging toward me and a sharp pain on the left hand side of my face, before I fall roughly to the ground, winding myself. Almost immediately, Charlotte is on top of me, viciously pulling at my hair and clawing at my skin, but Stuart and Dan pull her off of me before any real damage can be done. I lay on the ground, stunned, for at least twenty seconds before I become aware of a voice talking to me.

“Jamie!” Krystie yells, shaking me back to reality. “Oh my god oh my god, are you okay?”

“Uh,” I grunt, still in a state of shock as to what happened.

“Get that bitch OUT OF MY HOUSE!” Charlotte- still physically restrained- yells in my direction. Nauseated, I stumble toward the front door of the house, supported by Krystie & Mary. As I reach the cool outside air, I throw up all over the gravel driveway, barely missing the bonnet of my Clio.

“I’ll take you to my place,” Krystie insists. “God, you’re shaking so much…” I don’t say a word as Krystie sits me down in the backseat of Mary’s car, instead slumping my head against the window.

I keep silent as Krystie leads me inside her small flat. It’s only once I’ve collapsed on her sofa that I finally break down in uncontrollable tears. Krystie and Mary are immediately at my side, silently holding me until I cry myself out.

Still silent, I opt for an early night- Krystie insists that I sleep in her bed (she’s sleeping on the sofa) and lends me a nightdress to change into, which I gratefully accept, even though I’m completely incapable of sleeping.

I replay the fight over and over in my mind, wondering what else I could have done, what I could have said or done differently that wouldn’t have destroyed the best, closest friendship I’ve ever had. In the past I’ve described Charlotte as my sister and in the past, that’s been true, but now…

Charlotte’s always had an ego on her and always had a desperate need to be the ‘alpha girl’, but in recent months- especially since my public ‘outing’- it’s blossomed to the point where it can only be described as paranoia. But telling me that she only kept me around to make her look good by comparison… I can’t believe that’s true. I refuse to believe that’s the case. Maybe she was drunk, maybe it was the wrong time of the month, but what she said… And to physically attack me? The notion that someone can lay their hands on someone they care about in anger… Well obviously I read about it and hear that it happens, but it’s an idea that’s completely alien to me. I treasure all my friends as those they were the most valuable things in the universe. In fact, they ARE the most valuable things in the universe, and that’s how I thought Charlotte saw me. How wrong I was.

Maybe one day I’ll be able to forgive her, maybe one day I’ll be able to understand why she did what she did, but not today. There’s a part of me that desperately wants to forget this ever happened, but logically I know it’s not something I can ignore. I’m going to have to stay away from Charlotte for a long, very long time.

I must have eventually nodded off at some point as when I wake up, it’s already daylight outside. A glance at the clock tells me that it’s only 5:30am, and I’m still exhausted, but sleeping is the last thing on my mind right now. I stagger into Krystie’s small bathroom and park myself on her toilet when I hear a low groan come from her bathtub.

“Uhh,” a familiar Irish voice complains. “Jamie? What time is it?”

“Half past five,” I say with a grimace. “Sorry…”

“No, the sooner I get up the sooner I’m out of this bloody thing,” Mary laughs, sitting on the edge of the tub. “How are you doing?”

“Terrible,” I confess. “I- I can’t, can’t understand…”

“It’s okay,” Mary says, gently holding my arm. “I would hug you if you weren’t, you know, taking a piss right now.” I chuckle, Mary’s joke helping to lighten my mood.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” I say, finishing my ‘ablution’ and wiping myself clean.

“You didn’t feel like standing, then?” Mary jokes, earning herself a soft, playful elbow.

“Girls don’t stand,” I remind Mary, poking my tongue out at the laughing Irish girl. “It wouldn’t work in this nightdress anyway.” Mary giggles as we head together into Krystie’s lounge, where the tall girl is still asleep on her sofa.

“Let’s not wake her,” Mary advises as we tiptoe past into her kitchen.

“Okay,” I say. “Even though I’m the one who’s supposed to be evil in the morning…” This time, it’s Mary who gives me the playful elbow as we both try not to laugh too loud and wake up our host.

“I wish things would just go back to the way they were,” I complain as I nurse a hot, sweet cup of coffee.

“Well I don’t,” Mary says sternly. “I don’t want to be friends with someone who only keeps me around to 'make them look good', and I DEFINITELY don’t want anything to do with someone who’d punch their supposed best friend.”

“…It was my fault,” I whine.

“Jamie!” Mary says angrily. “I was standing right fucking there! Yes, you were retaliating to what she said but that doesn’t justify what she did! Nothing can justify that!” I squeeze Mary’s hand supportively, glad to have a friend who truly cares about me.

“Thank you,” I whisper, choking back yet more tears. “Thank you so much!”

“And me & Krys will go and get your stuff from Charlotte’s house,” Mary offers. “Unless, of course, you want to-“

“Absolutely not,” I interrupt. “I don’t want to ever even SEE her again.” Mary sighs sadly at me, making me worry that despite what she just said, I may be bringing an end to this friendship as well.

“Where will you go?” Mary asks.

“I… I don’t know,” I answer, my head slumping forward. “I could always ask my parents- oh god, my parents!”

“What? What is it?” Mary asks, concerned by my sudden panic.

“You saw how many reporters were there last night,” I explain. “You know me and Charlotte will be plastered all over every news website in existence by now. My parents must be worried sick, and my phone’s still at Charlotte’s…” Mary simply smiles at my predicament. “What?” I ask, confused by my friend’s smile.

“You’re most concerned about your parents?” Mary asks. “Not your media career, your public image? You really are the best daughter ever!” Mary gets her own phone out and quickly composes a text message.

“Who are you texting?” I ask.

“Keith,” Mary answers. “Gonna ask if we can head round to get your stuff this morning. Don’t really wanna try talking to Charlotte.” Much to our surprise, Mary’s phone bleeps almost immediately once the message had been sent.

“Is he already up?” I ask as Mary reads the new message.

“Looks like it,” Mary answers. “Oh no…” Mary shows me the webpage on her phone and the headline makes my heart sink.

‘FIGHT! Charlotte Hutchinson and Jamie-Lee Burke come to blows at party to launch model’s singing career’

“Oh godddd…” I moan, my hands shaking as feelings of panic rise within me.

“CALM DOWN!” Mary urges. “Don’t panic, whatever you do! Just let me read the article, it looks like it’s on your side, as it should be.”

“Yeah, well I can kiss my career goodbye, can’t I?” I whine self-pityingly. “Spencer & Hall are never gonna want me now…”

“You don’t know that for sure!” Mary insists. “We’ll go to Charlotte’s, get your phone, get your stuff, and we’ll get everything sorted out.” I take several deep breaths to calm myself.

“Okay,” I say, slowly nodding my head.

“We’ll call your parents from my phone,” Mary announces. “What time do they get up usually?”

“Umm, I dunno, 6:30, I think,” I mutter.

“I’ll call them at 6:40 and explain what’s happened,” Mary states. “I’m sure they’ll be willing to let you move back in.”

“So much for living life as an independent woman,” I moan. “I can barely call myself either ‘independent’ or ‘a woman’.” Mary sighs, clearly tired of my self-pity.

“You are the most wonderful, gorgeous, talented woman I know,” the Irish girl says, giving me a quick hug. “You’ll get through this, and you’ll be stronger and better than ever before!” Choking back tears, I return Mary’s hug.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

“Thanks for starting breakfast without me,” Krystie complains groggily as she slumps into a chair next to me and is quickly pulled into the group hug.

After eating breakfast and filling in Krystie on what’s happened- she immediately offers her unconditional help, AND to let me stay with her for as long as I need- I make my call to my parents at exactly 6:40am.

“Hello?” The male voice on the other end of the line says.

“…Dad?” I begin hesitantly.

“Jamie, oh thank god,” dad says, the relief in his voice almost palpable. “Are you okay? We heard what happened, where are you now? Are you safe? Are you with friends?” I giggle as my father- normally the sternest, most stoic man in the universe- works himself into a near frenzy over my well-being.

“I’m fine!” I insist, eliciting a sigh of relief from my dad. “I’m staying with Krystie right now.”

“No you’re not, you’re moving back in with us, and we won’t hear otherwise!” Dad insists, bringing a relieved smile to my face.

“I’d like that,” I whisper. “But I do need to get my stuff back from Charlotte’s…”

“I’ll call work and tell them that I can’t come in today,” dad says in a voice I know better than to argue with. “I’ll tell them it’s a domestic emergency, which I guess is technically true. I’ll pick up your stuff from Charlotte’s then swing by and get you.”

“Thanks,” I say, before remembering a problem. “Oh, um, my car…”

“Perfect, we’ll have two cars to put your stuff in. I’ll bring your mum with me and she can drive it back,” dad insists. “All that matters is that you get yourself home and safe.”

“Thanks, dad,” I say, blinking yet more tears of happiness out of my eyes.

“I- I love you, Jamie,” dad mumbles awkwardly.

“I love you, dad,” I whisper, now crying openly as Krystie places a supportive arm around my shoulders.

“See?” Mary asks with a smile. “What did I tell you? It’s all worked out fine.”

“Yeah…” I say pensively. “Umm, would you mind dropping around Charlotte’s place anyway? There are, um, a few things there that I kinda don’t want my parents to be the ones to bring back…” Krystie and Mary both giggle at my awkward confession.

“Sure thing,” Mary says.

“I’ve got a pair of rubber gloves under the sink, you might need those!” Krystie jokes, earning herself a playful whack with a cushion!

After a quick shower, I pull the underwear I wore last night back on and change into a miniskirt and tank top Krystie generously loaned me. I feel utterly AWFUL going out without any make-up on, but I don't have any here and borrowing Krystie's or Mary's would be a little more intimate than I'd prefer. The girls leave me alone with my thoughts at 8:30 when Mary drives Krystie to work before picking up my 'secret' belongings (at least, that's the order in which I hope they did those two things). Much to my relief, Mary arrives back less than an hour later.

"Hey Jamie," Mary says, greeting me with a quick hug. "I've left your quote-unquote stuff in the boot of my car, and can I just say, as a good catholic: you go, girl!" I blush with embarrassment, not knowing just how much of the stuff Mary saw. "I didn't even know what some of that stuff even WAS..."

"Google it," I say, sticking my tongue out at my giggling friend as she hands me a small carrier bag full of cosmetics. "And THANK YOU. You are an absolute lifesaver."

"Going to get your face on before your parents get here?" Mary asks.

"That's the plan," I answer, retreating to Krystie's bedroom and applying a moderate layer of make-up to my bare face. "I really hope I'm wrong, I honestly, truly do, but I wouldn't be surprised if the press have sussed out I'll be staying with my parents for the foreseeable future."

"You're ALWAYS welcome at my place," Mary insists. "At least until the fuss dies down. They haven't traced you here yet, have they?"

"Thanks for using the word 'yet'," I quip.

"Sorry, sorry," Mary sighs. "But you can't hide from them forever..."

"I know," I sigh back. "And I don't intend to." I brace myself before asking my next question. "Did- did Charlotte say anything to you whilst you were there?"

"Didn't even see her," Mary confesses. "She was holed up in her room, Keith let me in. Think she's too ashamed to show her face. As she bloody well should be." I pause before finishing off my make-up- Charlotte's obviously feeling guilty about the fight- guilt or self-pity, one of the two.

"We'll no doubt hear from her soon," I mumble as I apply my lipstick.

"Sadly, I think you're right..." Mary replies.

Just over an hour later, Mary and I are alerted to the presence of two cars outside, and sure enough, my baby blue Clio is one of them. Still apprehensive about the press, I poke my head out of Krystie’s apartment, but fortunately they haven’t tracked me down just yet. After a welcome, calming hug from both mum and dad, I slide into the passenger seat of my car- always a strange experience- and relax as mum drives me home, with Mary & dad following in their own cars.

“It’s going to be so good to have you home, where you belong,” mum says happily. “We’ve got five years to catch up on, after all!”

“Yeah,” I say with a smile, switching my phone on and frowning at all the missed calls.

“I hope you’ll actually find some time to talk to me during this drive!” Mum jokes.

“Sorry,” I grimace. “I’m- I’m just kinda in demand, that’s all.”

“Ah, the price of having a rich and famous daughter!” Mum laughs. “You have to share her with the rest of the world!”

“Joshua’s called,” I sigh. “He’s got to have seen the news. Do- do you mind if I-?”

“Go right ahead,” mum insists. “It’s your day, you do what you need to do.” Bracing myself, I dial Joshua’s number. Unsurprisingly, the call is answered within 2 rings.

“Jamie-Lee Burke!” Joshua booms down the phone at me. “Or should I say ‘David Haye’?” I moan unhappily.

“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry,” I say, trying not to cry in front of my mother.

“Obviously this isn’t perfect,” Joshua continues. “But we need to move fast to limit any damage this may have caused. Spencer and Hall want to see us tomorrow at 10am. Where do you want me to pick you up?”

“…From my parents’ house,” I concede, knowing better than to argue with my agent.

“I’ll see you then,” Joshua says. “In the meantime, you get yourself happy! This is not the end of the world and nor should it be!” With that, Joshua clicks off the phone and leaves me alone with my thoughts.

“Was that your agent?” Mum asks.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “I’ve got to meet him tomorrow. I was actually on the verge of signing with a big-name agency, the same one Charlotte’s signed to. That’s kinda why the fight happened.”

“I always knew that girl wasn’t good enough to be your friend,” mum says.

“What- what did she say, when you went round?” I ask hesitantly.

“I didn’t actually see her,” mum says. “It was that nice young man she’s going out with that helped us pack all your stuff, Charlotte didn’t come out of her bedroom at any point. Probably too ashamed of what she did.”

“I doubt it,” I retort.

“Either way,” mum says, “the important thing is that soon you’ll be home where you can be happy and safe. AND you’ve still got real friends who care about you a lot.”

“Thanks,” I say happily as we continue driving to my old- and new- home in the outskirts of London.

We arrive home mere minutes later and to my chagrin, paparazzi are already there, waiting for my arrival. Mum hurriedly ushers me into the house out of sight of the cameras before she, dad & Mary unload their cars into my new home. Once the final box is in, I collapse on the sofa, my head in my hands.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I brought this all on you,” I tearfully grovel to my parents.

“You have NOTHING to be sorry about,” mum says, sitting down next to me, gently rubbing my back. “You’re beautiful, famous, successful and talented, people want to know what’s happening with you, so obviously we’ll get reporters here from time to time! If your father and I weren’t okay with this, we would have found a way to be okay with it, for you.”

“Thank you, thank you so much,” I blub, hugging my mother tightly.

“Now,” dad says, sitting down next to me, “what do you want to do for the rest of today?” I sigh- when ‘my gang’ was complete, there would have been so many options, so many different things I’d have wanted to do, but here at home, with reporters parked outside…

“Nothing,” I answer. “I just want a lazy day, at home.”

“Then that’s what you’ll have,” mum insists, standing up. “I’ll put the kettle on. Mary, you’re welcome to stay as long as you want, I know Jamie could use a real friend right now.”

“Thanks, I’d like that,” Mary says, happily parking herself in the space my mum just vacated. “Do you have any old photo albums?” I playfully whack Mary with a cushion yet again as both my parents laugh, though after the last few days, looking back on old times- even if they weren’t the happiest times of my life, even if they were times when I was James, instead of Jamie- would be good right about now.

Mary sticks around until about 1:30pm, by which point the press outside my front door have all dispersed. With my parents’ help, I begin unpacking my boxes into my old childhood bedroom- it’s about half the size of my bedroom at Charlotte’s, but dad’s promised me that he’ll put in extra wardrobe space AND that I can use the spare bedroom for storage until I get my own place. Fortunately, I’ve stayed here often enough over the last few months that I’ve turned the room into something that is definitely Jamie’s and not James’s- but it’s still going to be strange knowing that this will be my home for the foreseeable future.

“Why does one girl need so many clothes?” Dad asks as he carefully hangs up my dresses in my tiny closet.

“She’s a fashion model!” Mum says with a laugh as she packs my vast lingerie collection into my chest of drawers. “She’s got to keep up appearances, you know!” Dad chuckles as he puts away my beautiful clothes, something I never imagined him happily doing even as soon as three months ago.

“Yes, but does she really need to keep this?” Dad asks, holding up the red tango dress I wore for my Strictly Come Dancing themed birthday party last year.

“Absolutely I need to keep it!” I complain, taking the dress off my father and holding it up against my body. “It was probably the best birthday I ever had… Even if certain recent events have kinda tainted it a little.”

“Well then,” dad says, taking back the dress and hanging it up, “we’ll just have to make sure that your 22nd is even better than your 21st, won’t we?”

“There’s really no need to go to any fuss,” I say.

“No need to go to any fuss!?” Dad asks incredulously. “No, you’re not telling me I can’t make a fuss out of my own daughter on her birthday. I may not be as rich as Charlotte but I’m going to make sure that you spend every second of your birthday happy!” I grin as I finish my current box of clothes and start on another one.

“First Paul and now Charlotte… It’s about time you had some real, consistent happiness in your life,” mum concurs as she reaches into her newest box, sighing happily as she sees what’s inside.

“What is it?” I ask, looking inside the box and seeing all my old, worn out pointe shoes inside.

“I do hope you won’t give up on your ballet,” mum sighs as she carefully inspects the old dance shoes. “You always look so contented when you’re dancing.”

“I am,” I confess, though the real reason I was so happy when I was dancing was that it was someone Charlotte and I could do together, something we both enjoyed greatly- and something that we obviously won’t be doing together any more. “Or rather, I was.”

“What do you mean?” Dad asks, seeing that I’m starting to get emotional again. Sighing, I slump down on the edge of my bed, my parents quickly joining me.

“I just- I just thought we’d be friends forever,” I sob, prompting mum to lean in and give me a much-needed hug.

“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times, you’re too good a friend for the likes of her!” Mum says. “Your other friends do ballet, don’t they?”

“Yeah,” I say, drying my eyes. “Actually, Krystie teaches it now, that’s why she couldn’t be here today.”

“Perfect!” Dad says, slapping me on the shoulder. “She can teach you, then. Actually, isn’t she the one having the ballet-themed birthday party next month?”

“Uh-huh,” I confirm. Dad simply grins even wider.

“See?” He says warmly. “Didn’t I tell you everything would work out fine?”

“Yeah,” I say, smiling happily. After everything is packed away I pick out my iPad and open up Facebook. Much to my dismay- but not my surprise- when I scroll down my extensive friends list, Charlotte’s name is nowhere to be found on it. Keith, however, is still on there, as are Krystie & Mary, much to my relief. I open up a new chat window with the two girls and start typing a message.

‘Hey,’ I type.

‘Heyyy, are you okay?” comes the immediate reply from Krystie.

‘Been better,’ I reply. ‘Got to talk to Spencer & Hall tomorrow, so that’ll be my career over.’

‘Bollocks it will!’ Mary types, prompting an ‘lol’ and a smiley face from Krystie. ‘Have you seen the gossip? Charlotte’s not been seen since last night and everyone’s tearing her a new one!’

'She is NOT popular anymore,' Krystie confirms. 'You thought she was seen as stuck-up when she was on Strictly? NOTHING compared to what people are saying now.'

'I'm deliberately trying to AVOID reading those articles,' I type.

'Wish I was as sensible as you,' Krystie types. I smile wickedly before composing my next message.

‘Girls’ night tomorrow?’ I type confidently.

‘Are you sure you’re up for it?’ Mary asks.

‘Normally I’d be a definite yes, but only if you’re sure you’re fine,’ Krystie concurs.

‘I’m sick of being upset about the past,’ I type. ‘You two are my new BFFs, I say we celebrate that with lots of drinking and lots of dancing!’

‘Will your parents let you stay out that late?’ Krystie asks, ending her sentence with an emoticon sticking its tongue out at me.

‘I’m not sleeping in your bathtub again!’ Mary jokes, prompting ‘lol’s from both of us.

‘It’s settled,’ I type. ‘I’ll book the taxi, see you both tomorrow night!’ After receiving smiley faces from both girls, I close the chat window and go back to my Facebook wall. I click through to both Krystie and Mary’s friend lists, but can’t find any trace of Charlotte on either of them. I truly, truly am blessed to have real friends like those two.

I eventually fall asleep at about 10:30pm after watching some TV with my parents, musing about how easily I settled back into my old life- albeit this time I have breasts and I’m wearing a miniskirt. I sleep right through the night, not waking up once until my phone’s alarm rouses me at 8am. Still sleepy, I pad through to the bathroom and sit down on the toilet, only musing after I start peeing that for most of the time I stayed here, I'd pee standing up, something unthinkable for me now.

“Morning, Jamie!” Mum says happily as I descend the stairs to the living room. “Your dad’s gone to work early and I’ve already been in the bathroom so it’s all yours if you need to take your time getting ready for your big meeting.”

“Thanks,” I say quietly as mum lays a full, rich breakfast in front of me including cereal, toast and coffee. “I doubt I’ll be able to eat this much!”

“Eat what you can,” mum advises. “I know you supermodels need to watch your weight but you’ll need food inside you today for this meeting!”

“…I’m not a supermodel,” I sigh. “In fact I haven’t actually done any modelling in ages.”

“Well then,” mum says, “how about ‘you celebrity superstars need to watch your weight’?” I grin as I eat my first slice of toast.

“Better,” I say with a grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever slept as well as I did last night.”

“It’s because you’re back where you belong,” mum says confidently. “I really did miss you over the last five years. And do you know, I think I like Jamie-Lee even more than I liked James.”

“Heh,” I chuckle. “Do you know, if I’d stuck around here I’d probably never have become Jamie-Lee. In fact, if I’d never met Charlotte, I’d probably never have become Jamie-Lee.”

“Just goes to show that the girl’s not ALL bad,” mum laughs. “And she did bring you back to me. Jamie,” mum pauses before continuing, “Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive her?”

“I don’t know,” I sigh. “Maybe- I, I still love the girl dearly, I just- and this sounds weird, I know- I just, just don’t like her a great deal. All the ego, the constant need for validation… But you’re right, she’s not ALL bad.”

“Maybe you just grew out of her,” mum muses. “That’s what happens when you get older, I guess!” I giggle at the light-hearted teasing.

After finishing my breakfast, I head up to the bathroom and work out a new morning routine. After showering, taking my pills and brushing my hair, I apply my make-up whilst still in the bathroom- a light layer of foundation, followed by subtle eye shadow, moderate eyeliner and mascara, and scarlet lipstick. Padding back to my bedroom stark naked (not even wearing a vagina panty), I pick out a lacy black bra and thong set, wondering how I'll explain THIS ending up in my laundry basket. After rolling a pair of nude tights up my hairless legs, I pull on a black satin blouse and reach into my wardrobe for a suit that didn't get creased too much from being in a box for most of yesterday. The one that catches my eye the most is a charcoal grey suit with a seriously tight knee-length pencil skirt, which I quickly pull on before fixing my nail polish, spraying on a cloud of expensive perfume and pulling on my favourite jewellery, with the necklace I still call 'my parents' necklace' taking pride of place. After pulling on a pair of 5" heeled shoes that match my suit, I head downstairs to be greeted by a gasp of delight from my mother.

"Jamie!" Mum breathes. "You are truly, truly beautiful! Though do you have to wear such high heels?" I giggle a little as I sit on the sofa, waiting for Joshua.

"I thought I was a supermodel?" I joke. "Having to 'keep up appearances'?"

"At this rate," mum says with a smile, "supermodels are going to have to keep up with YOU!"

As promised, Joshua picks me up just after 10am and quickly whisks me off to Spencer & Hall’s office, where the paparazzi are already lying in wait. We both quickly walk past them into the reception area, not even stopping to acknowledge their existence. Unsurprisingly, we’re not kept waiting long before being ushered into Graham’s office.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me,” Graham says as we take our seats. “Obviously I’m sure you appreciate we need to take steps to ensure this unfortunate business blows over as soon as possible.”

“Jamie is not to blame for the fight,” Joshua insists. “It was Charlotte who provoked her and Charlotte who threw the first punch.” Inwardly, I’m shocked that Joshua would be do eager to ‘throw Charlotte under the bus’- especially as mere months ago he would bend over backwards to help her whenever she needed it.

“We’ve looked into it,” Graham continues, undeterred by Joshua’s outburst. “And while there is certainly blame to be apportioned on both sides, we agree with you that it is much more Charlotte’s fault than Jamie’s. Obviously, it would not be good for business for us to have on our books two personalities who have recently come to blows.” I sigh and lower my head- I’d been expecting this, but it’s still heart breaking to hear it actually happen with my own ears.

“That’s why,” Graham says, “Jamie, if you sign with us, we’ll happily cut Charlotte loose.” I blink twice and look Graham in the eye- surely he can’t be serious?

“I- I’m sorry?” I stutter.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed over the past few months that Charlotte’s behaviour has become erratic,” Graham says- in truth, I hadn’t noticed, possibly because I’d been around her nearly 24/7, but in hindsight, he may have a point. “When we signed her we had planned on marketing her as ‘the girl making a name for herself despite her dysfunctional family’. When Charlotte herself became, well, ‘dysfunctional’, that image became harder and harder to maintain. With the press beginning to turn on her, and now fully turning on her after the fight, she’s become a liability. You, on the other hand, are still the unique, beloved girl that you were before the fight. Sure, there’ll be some damage limitation before we can start to properly market you, and you may need to issue a public statement and apology for your conduct, but if anything the knowledge that you’re imperfect- just like everyone else- will make the public warm to you all the more.” I try to take in what Graham’s saying, but his words are all a blur to me.

“…And there’s no way you could keep us both on your books?” I timidly ask.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Graham says. “We’ve invested a lot of money into Charlotte, and we would be writing off a loss by cutting her loose, but we feel that you’re a much, much more appealing prospect.”

“And don’t forget you’d be doing me a favour too!” Joshua butts in. “A lot of models want to sign with me as I’m the one who discovered Charlotte Hutchinson. Right now, that doesn’t mean much. But if I’m the one who discovered Jamie-Lee Burke…”

My decision should be a no-brainer. I’d be doing a job I loved, making a six-figure sum a year, guaranteed. I’d be making Joshua happy. I’d be making my parents happy, my friends ecstatic, and Spencer and Hall clearly think I can make them oodles of cash by being on their books. There’s only one person who’d be worse off if I took this offer- Charlotte.

“If I decline,” I whisper, “what will happen to Charlotte?”

“We’ll keep her on our books for now,” Graham answers. “Yes, there’s a lot of damage limitation to be done but she’s not irredeemable, not yet.”

Inside, I’m being torn apart by this decision. I love my job, but then I don’t want to lose Charlotte forever. I think back to what mum asked me earlier- would I be able to forgive Charlotte one day? Probably. Would she forgive me if I stole her job, confirming all of her supposedly paranoid delusions? Never.

“I’ve made my decision,” I say to the two highly expectant men.

Fifteen minutes later, Joshua’s driving me back home, a frown plastered over his normally-smiling face.

“Charlotte does not deserve to have a friend as loyal as you,” he states darkly.

“Thanks,” I mumble. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Joshua says, his mood lightening. “It just means I get to keep my favourite model on my books a while longer! You’ll still need to put out that public apology before I can get you any more work, but you let me worry about that. You get yourself home to your parents, have a night out with your girls and we’ll start again on Monday! Besides, I’m sure I can get another model into Spencer and Hall. Hannah’s been doing a lot of good work lately, especially since you and Krystie started your other careers!”

“Yeah, she’s pretty talented,” I say half-heartedly.

“And you still haven’t persuaded that gorgeous Irish friend of yours to sign for me yet!” Joshua reminds me, his trademark grin quickly returning to his face.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I giggle.

“There you are!” Joshua shouts happily. “We’re both smiling, we’re both laughing, things are going good again. You’ll probably never be a millionaire, but I’ll make sure you’re never short of work. Especially not when I’ve got retailers kicking my door down demanding your 2014 calendar and we haven’t even shot it yet!”

“Thanks,” I say with a genuine smile. “Can- can we swing by Charlotte’s before going home, please?” Joshua’s smile instantly disappears as I make my request.

“That’s not a good idea,” Joshua insists. “Give it time, let things settle down. She hasn’t even left the house since the fight. Did you see how pissed off her agent was at her?”

“I know I can get through to her,” I sigh. “I know her better than anyone else. At least… I thought I did. She’s taken me off Facebook and I know she won’t answer her phone for me- the only way I’ll get through to her is in person. At least let me talk to Keith…”

“Okay,” Joshua sighs unhappily. “I’ll take you round there. But it’s only to talk to Keith, and it’s only because you’re my favourite model, okay?”

“Okay,” I say. In my mind, I already know what I’m going to say to Charlotte. By declining Spencer & Hall’s offer, I’ve already proved her wild accusations wrong. I’m not expecting her to welcome me back with open arms, I just… want her not to hate me anymore.

Much to my relief, there are no paparazzi outside Charlotte’s house when Joshua pulls up outside it. I swing my legs out of the car and slowly stride up to what was, for over two years, my front door, and ring the doorbell. Unsurprisingly, it’s Keith who answers.

“Jamie,” Keith says quietly. “You- you really shouldn’t be here.”

“I just want to see her,” I whine. “I need to clear the air, if I call her or send her a message you know she won’t respond, please, please let me see her?”

“Who is it?” Charlotte yells from the living room. Keith pauses- looking like a rabbit caught in the headlights, before taking a deep breath.

“It’s-“ Keith begins, before I cut him off.

“It’s Jamie,” I interrupt. An awkward silence passes before Charlotte storms out of the living room and stomps toward me, eventually having to be physically restrained by Keith.

“You fuck off right now!” Charlotte spits at me, making my heart break once again. “Get the fuck out of my sight!” As hurt as I am by Charlotte’s words, I can’t help but be astonished at the way she looks. Her face is completely make-up free, her nail polish is chipped, her hair unkempt- clearly unwashed in at least two days- and she’s clad in a knee-length cotton nightie that’s a far cry from the exquisite tiny nightwear she usually wears.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m sorry things came to this.” Charlotte calms down and stops having to be physically restrained by Keith, but there is still clear hatred in her eyes.

“You’d better be sorry,” she growls. With no other way to soothe her anger, I jump straight to playing my trump card.

“I turned down Spencer and Hall’s offer,” I say flatly. “They were going to fire you and hire me, but I declined so that you could keep their job.” Charlotte blinks twice, the anger in her eyes replaced by confusion.

“So you’re a stupid bitch as well as a selfish one,” she mumbles before storming off into the living room. Crestfallen, I head back to Joshua’s car, but I don’t get more than three steps before Keith speaks up.

“I’m sorry,” Keith says quietly. “I’m so, so sorry. On her behalf. I know she’ll eventually start missing having you around. I know I already do.”

“Thanks, Keith,” I whisper, blinking back tears.

“What you did for Charlotte, even after what she did…” Keith mutters, obviously not wanting Charlotte to hear what he’s saying. “…Sometimes I think I’m going out with the wrong girl.” My heart skips a beat as Keith says this to me. Even though my feelings for Paul were eventually genuine, I never stopped loving Keith. And now, there’s a very real chance I’ll never be able to see him again.

“Goodbye, Keith,” I say, my heart tearing in two as I head back to Joshua’s car.

“Goodbye, Jamie-Lee,” Keith says, real emotion in his own voice.

“KEITH!” Charlotte yells angrily, summoning her boyfriend back into the house. I hear the front door close and my head slumps forward, tears welling in my eyes.

“I’m not going to say ‘I told you so’,” Joshua says as I slump into the passenger seat of his car. “You probably needed that.”

“I needed a full-force kick in the stomach?” I ask.

“Sometimes everyone needs one of those!” Joshua laughs. “God knows there were times I could’ve benefitted from a kick or two in the head, let alone the stomach. You’ll be fine. Want to know how I know?”

“Go on,” I say.

“Because you are Jamie-Lee Burke,” Joshua states matter-of-factly. “And you are AMAZING.”

When we get home, there’s a small gaggle paparazzi camped out outside, much to my chagrin. I calmly stride past them into the welcome arms of my mother, who immediately thrusts a much-needed cup of tea into my ice-cold hands. Funny how the press are eager to get photos of me, but not Charlotte…

After stripping off my suit, changing into a casual black pencil mini and a pink short-sleeved top, I crash on the sofa with my iPad in hand, waiting for Joshua's inevitable email containing my apology.

"...You dropped round at Charlotte's, didn't you?" Mum asks. I close my eyes and nod my head, feeling just like I did when I was 4 and getting told off by my parents.

"I wish I hadn't," I sigh. "It was a complete disaster. I don't think she'll ever forgive me..."

"You've done nothing that needs forgiving!" Mum insists. "You mark my words, before too long, she'll be around here, begging you to let her be your friend again."

"I doubt it," I say with a heavy heart. "But I hope you're right..."

Joshua's email comes through less than 45 minutes later with a carefully-typed statement. Of course, being Joshua, he's already emailed the assembled reporters outside telling them I'll be delivering the statement within the next few minutes. Taking a deep breath, I step outside to face the press and immediately get several cameras and microphones pressed in my face.

“I’d like to take this opportunity to apologise for my actions,” I begin, trying desperately not to be too distracted by the flashbulbs going off in my face. “I deeply regret being involved in the altercation that took place on Wednesday night. Physical violence is not an example I want to set, and is never the answer to anything, and please believe me when I say that nothing like this will ever happen again. That is all, thank you.” Without pausing, I turn around and head back indoors, ignoring the questions and shouts of the paparazzi.

“You were very mature,” mum says, giving me a comforting hug. “I’m so very, very proud of you right now. I know your dad is, too.”

“Thanks,” I sniffle.

“Got another lazy day planned?” Mum asks with a smile that I happily reflect.

“Absolutely!” I reply. "Followed by a very loud, exciting evening!" Mum smiles, and with this whole incident behind me, I smile as well.

Dad arrives home just after 5:30pm and makes an immediate point of telling me just how proud he also is of me for my maturity in the face of what happened. After a quick dinner, I head upstairs to get ready- Charlotte or no Charlotte, it's still Friday night, and it's still Girls' night!

After applying my fake eyelashes, thick eyeliner and glittery gold eye shadow, I pick out three of my favourite lipsticks and lip liners, mixing them on my mouth so that any guy I see tonight will give his right arm to kiss it! I swap my bra & thong for a tiny black g-string and matching strapless bra, giggling when I imagine what my mum's reaction will be to THESE exotic items turning up in the laundry. I go bare-legged, but take the opportunity to touch up my toe- and fingernail polish, and spray a liberal amount of fake tan on my smooth, soft legs. I pick out a tiny clubbing dress with a halter neck that shows a LOT of cleavage, and a pair of 6"-heeled sandals. After brushing my hair out to its maximum possible volume, I douse myself in my sweetest-smelling perfume and put on my best gold jewellery before grabbing my bag and heading downstairs to where my parents are waiting.

"Before you say anything," I say confidently, "I'm 21 and I'll wear what I want."

"I would say 'not under my roof' but there's always the danger you'll move out," dad grumbles. "Though I am going to have to light a candle to get rid of that perfume smell!"

"Make sure you don't get photographed getting on and out of the taxi!" Mum warns, obviously worried about the length of my skirt.

Fortunately, when I leave the house at 8:30pm, the paparazzi have all dispersed. When I climb into the back of the black cab, Krystie and Mary ambush me with tight, friendly hugs, careful not ruin their equally thoroughly-prepared looks.

“Aww, you’re such a grown-up!” Krystie jokes, having obviously read or watched my public apology.

“Unlike someone else whose name we WON’T be mentioning tonight!” Mary laughs as I sit down between her and Krystie. “Where shall we go first?” I grin confidently.

“Wherever we want,” I say firmly. “This is OUR time now. First club you see that you like the look of? We’ll make it ours.”

Who needs Charlotte, anyway?

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 dinner 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.

“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!

FIVE MONTHS LATER

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

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

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

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

“For the next few hours, anyway,” Charlotte sighs, gingerly sitting down so I can help her don her high-heeled shoes. It doesn’t take long for Charlotte’s look to be complete, and when she stands up, she- like myself- looks every bit the Victorian debutante.

In addition to our ridiculously tight over bust corsets (that give us both incredible cleavage) and other replica (but still authentic) Victorian underwear, we’re both wearing extravagant dresses, dripping with highlights, that end in extra-wide hoop skirts. The dresses have tight bejewelled bodices that show off every inch of our curves, and we’re wearing white satin gloves that come almost all the way up to our shoulders. We both have thick collar-like chokers around our necks, and our hair is tied up into elegant updos. Our faces are, of course, fully-made up too.

“Pray, Miss Hutchinson,” I say in a fake ‘Pride and Prejudice’ style voice, “would you be so kind as to hand me my fan? I do believe I am suffering an attack of the vapours.” Giggling, Charlotte passes me my folding fan, which I dramatically fan myself with as Charlotte takes photos for my Instagram account. After returning the favour- and taking a couple of selfies- we head downstairs to where the rest of our ‘gang’- now officially called ‘The Angels’- are waiting for us.

“And there she is,” Charlotte enthuses. “The beautiful princess on her 21st birthday! Smile for the camera, Viks!” grinning shyly, Viks, wearing the most elaborate dress- and the tightest corset- of all of us, poses for the camera like the expert model she has rapidly become.

“Mr. Brooks!” Charlotte yells. “Come on and have your photo taken with the birthday girl!” Charlotte yells. I can’t help but grin as Charlotte takes charge of the party. Unlike the past, though, she’s putting Viks- a girl she probably wouldn’t have looked twice at- fully in centre stage, willingly letting herself be relegated to the background.

Even since I reconciled with Charlotte in July, life has been damned near perfect. As she promised, Charlotte cancelled Spencer & Hall’s contract with her- even knowing that she’d never get a second chance with them- and re-signed with Joshua, who as expected, quickly marketed us as ‘The Angels’. All six of us have found our public profiles increasing exponentially. We all do regular media appearances- Charlotte probably has the greatest exposure out of all of us, with me second, but the other girls are catching up quick, especially Hannah, the only other full-time model of our group. We all have tens of thousands of followers on twitter and Instagram, and those of us who have YouTube channels (my lifestyle vlog, Krystie’s ballet channel and Hannah’s vlog) all have over a hundred thousand subscribers each. We’re not all about being celebrities, though- Krystie still runs her dance studio (which now has a huge waiting list following her increase in fame) and Viks, Mary and I all work hard at our university studies. Whilst I am seen occasionally by the media as ‘the transsexual Angel’ (and am rapidly becoming the go-to girl for public support for the transgendered community), most of the time I’m treated as simply one of the girls- which is precisely what I am. A lot of fuss is being made about my upcoming SRS in April, though!

…Not least by my parents. They are, of course, exceptionally protective of me, especially as my media appearances grow more frequent. I’m thankful that I’m not the only ‘Angel’ who still lives with their parents (Viks does as well), as I do want to be seen by the media as a proud, independent woman, but I doubt I’d have got through the year without their support. Even though neither of them desired any fame of their own, they both happily gave interviews to the press on my 22nd birthday, and actually joined in the theme for the party as well (a ‘nineties’ theme- which saw my dad sporting a MASSIVE mullet!). Even though I’ve only been back living there for a few months, I can’t imagine life anywhere else, despite the limited closet space!

As much as I can’t live without my parents, the support given to each other by ‘The Angels’ has been the most important thing not only in my life, but probably in the other girls’ lives too. Viks’s rise to fame in particular has taken everyone by surprise- the shy college student has become a bona fide megastar and is in high demand for endorsements, particularly by vintage lingerie and corsetry companies. Her figure is apparently perfect for their needs- and Viks, despite her initial reservations- is loving the ‘it girl’ lifestyle as much as the rest of us. She’s apparently had boys practically banging her door down to go on a date with her, too- one of whom she accepted and will be introducing to us today!

Charlotte and I are, once again, inseparable- even though she has Keith back, they’re not the perfect couple they once were. Charlotte’s infidelity- which she hasn’t repeated, fortunately- has left him wary of her, and ever since our ‘moment’ in July, Keith and I have been very awkward around each other. With Keith busy with his PhD studies most days, Charlotte’s actually been spending more time with me than with him. Fortunately, when Charlotte and the other Angels are busy with their boyfriends, I always have Krystie- the only other singleton in our ‘gang’- to keep my spirits up!

“Smile, all of you!” Charlotte orders as she snaps more photos of Viks and her parents.

“Just because my name’s Victoria, doesn’t mean I’m a fan of all things Victorian,” Viks complains, wriggling in her massive dress. “I can barely breathe in this thing!”

“And here I was thinking it was me who made you breathless,” a familiar deep, masculine voice calls from the entranceway. As one, everyone in the room turns to see the tall young man- dressed a proper Victorian gentleman- stride over to Viks and give her a long, deep kiss. Out of all the girls, it’s my jaw that’s dropped the furthest.

“Girls, let me introduce you to my boyfriend,” Viks says as the young man wraps his arms around her shrunken waist. “I believe some of you know Jonathan Benedict?” I can’t help but stare at the young man I briefly dated, who simply winks at me before kissing his current girlfriend again.

“Hello girls,” Jonathan says smugly as he escorts Viks into Charlotte’s main room, the rest of us following shortly behind.

“I’ve had him,” I cheekily whisper to Krystie, making the tall girl giggle in a very un-ladylike manner.

“Are the rumours true?” Krystie whispers back.

“PAINFULLY true, if you get my drift,” I reply, making Krystie giggle even more!

We while away the night eating, drinking, chatting and dancing- for the formal ‘ball dance’ Charlotte insisted on, I end up dancing with Stuart (who is still somehow uncomfortable in his breeches, despite not having any actual boy parts yet) whilst Krystie dances with Viks’s brother. We’d briefly considered causing a ‘scandal’ by dancing with each other, but thought better of it in the end! Needless to say, Viks and Jonathan are the star attraction, wowing everyone with their clearly well-practised routine.

After the dance, I sit down on one of the sofas, resting my weary feet (and aching waist!) when I hear a familiar voice boom across the room at me.

“Jamie!” Joshua says happily. “How’s my favourite Angel enjoying the party today?”

“’Favourite’ angel?” I ask with a smile. “Don’t let the others hear you say that!”

“I’m allowed to have six favourites!” Joshua laughs, sitting down next to me.

“And sideburns the size of cricket bats?” I ask, playing with the strips of hair Joshua’s attached to his face.

“This is the Victorian era!” Joshua laughs. “I’ve got to blend in somehow!”

“Viks and Jonathan look really happy together,” I muse.

“They’re perfect for each other,” Joshua says happily. “They both bring each other out of their shell. If he were still with us, I know my brother would be so happy Jonathan found someone like Viks.” I can’t help but sigh sadly as Joshua gushes over the new couple.

“Don’t look sad!” Joshua admonishes me. “This is a party! And you’re Jamie-Lee Burke, media sensation! You don’t need a stupid boy to make you happy!”

“I keep telling myself I don’t NEED a boy,” I sigh. “Doesn’t mean I don’t WANT one, though…” My eyes drift toward Keith, who is, as predicted, happily waltzing around the floor with Charlotte.

“Keep your chin up!” Joshua commands. “Seven days from now, you and the Angels will be proper TV stars!” I grin, much to Joshua’s delight. “There you go!” My boss booms.

As my mum predicted back in the summer, the second Joshua re-signed Charlotte, he got right in contact with every production firm on his books, offering the six of us up as the next ‘TOWIE’/’Made in Chelsea’-style reality show. There was some resistance at first- mostly from myself and Viks, who were eager not to be seen as the type of vacuous, empty clothes horses you see on those shows- but as filming started, we began to see that the show was less ‘sensational’ than the other shows of its type, placing less emphasis on inter-personal rivalries (largely because the six of us are so close that there aren’t any), instead focussing on our everyday lives, our work, our parties, our girls nights out and girls nights in, we’ve even had cameras recording our private ballet lessons.

Joshua had, of course, originally wanted to call the show ‘Charlotte’s Angels’. It made sense from a business standpoint, as Charlotte is by some distance the ‘biggest’ star out of the six of us, but she herself objected, insisting that it be a show about six girls, not one girl and her five friends, so her name was dropped from the title, leaving just ‘Angels’ instead. This of course meant we spent a whole day in a studio wearing pristine white dresses with wings and halos. It took four hours to record enough footage for a thirty-second intro sequence- which the director later told us was considerably quicker than normal! The Angel costumes later saw use at Hannah’s 21st birthday party in October, which will be the focus of the pilot episode being broadcast next Saturday! There are also cameras here today, gathering footage for future episodes (despite the series not being fully commissioned yet), much to Viks’s chagrin- I’m only thankful that they weren’t booked in time for my birthday in September, or our weekend in Spain earlier that month!

As gorgeous as tonight’s costumes are, they’re not very practical, as I discover when Charlotte taps me on the shoulder.

“B.B,” she says. Immediately, I roll my eyes and follow her out of the main room to the adjacent toilet, holding her gloves helping her rearrange her skirts as she parks herself on the seat.

“You know,” I sigh as I turn my back on Charlotte, “you don’t HAVE to drink so much…”

“It’s a party!” Charlotte enthuses. “Of course I do! And it could be worse, have you seen how much Hannah and Viks have been in here tonight?”

“It’s ridiculous,” I agree. “Hannah isn’t even drinking as she said she’s designated driver, even though we offered to get a taxi for them.”

“Didn't even realise she'd passed her test,” Charlotte says. “How can you drive in this dress anyway?”

“Beats me,” I sigh, gazing at the sink whilst Charlotte cleans herself up. I move out of the way to allow Charlotte to wash her hands, but before I can hand her back her gloves, she pauses.

“What’s up?” I ask my BFF, who seems transfixed on the contents of the pedal bin.

“Pass me some toilet paper,” Charlotte orders, her voice quiet and stunned. Cautiously, I obey, and wince a little as Charlotte fishes a small tube out of the bin.

“Eww,” I spit.

“Oh hush,” Charlotte says. “Jamie… This is a pregnancy test.”

“Yes, and?” I ask.

“…It’s positive.” Charlotte whispers. A brief silence fills the small room.

“Well it’s not going to be mine, is it?” I say sarcastically. Charlotte simply sighs and rolls her eyes.

“Thank you, Miss State-the-Obvious,” Charlotte says. “But… The only women who’ve been in here all day are us Angels, Viks’s mum, Joshua’s wife…”

“Viks’s mum is in her fifties, so is Joshua’s wife,” I muse. “Are- are you saying that one of us is pregnant?”

“It looks that way,” Charlotte whispers, carefully replacing the pregnancy test in the bin.

“…Is it you?” I hesitantly ask. Charlotte simply shakes her head in response.

“Why would I use the downstairs toilet to do the test when I can do it in my own private bathroom?” Charlotte asks- and she has a point. “It has to be Krystie, Mary, Hannah or Viks.”

“Oh my god,” I say, fanning myself with my hands. “I can’t believe it! …I’m going to be an auntie!” Charlotte giggles, before we’re interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Open up in there!” Hannah yells. “Birthday girl and bathroom buddy coming in!” Charlotte and I nod at each other, allowing Hannah to quickly (well, as quick as her dress will let her, anyway) enter the room, followed closely by Viks.

“Do- do you suppose it’s Hannah?” I ask. “She’s not drinking alcohol, but she’s had a constant need for the toilet…”

“Who says it’s Hannah who’s using the toilet?” Charlotte whispers to me as we head back to the main room. “Viks has been in there as much as she has.”

“…And did you notice how Krystie’s and Mary’s corsets weren’t laced as tight as ours?” I ask, staring at the aforementioned two women fanning themselves on one of the room’s many couches.

“They’ve had stomach flu recently, they’re still feeling a little sensitive,” Charlotte explains. “…Or maybe it’s morning sickness?”

“EXACTLY,” I say with a smug smile.

“Could…” Charlotte starts carefully, obviously bringing up a delicate topic. “Could it- could it be Stuart’s? I mean, you hear about women having a sex change to become men but still getting pregnant…”

“No,” I reply firmly. “He had the ‘necessary equipment’ removed a while ago.” Much to my surprise, Charlotte then giggles excitedly.

“God, this is so exciting!” Charlotte beams. “I mean, it’s like a real mystery, you know? We’re kinda like a female Sherlock and John!”

“Except neither of us look like Benedict Cumberbatch,” I quip, sticking my tongue out at my BFF. “Whoever it is who took the test, they obviously don’t want to tell us just yet, and we should respect that, let them tell us.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Charlotte sighs. “But I just really want to know who it is! I’m gonna get to plan a baby shower!” I giggle with Charlotte as we rejoin the party, but throughout the night, I can’t help but observe the other four Angels much more closely than usual, looking for any signs that they may be expecting…

I eventually head home- to my parents’, where I still live- just after 11:30pm. Rather than try to pile our ridiculous dresses into the back of taxis (or change back into street clothes), we’ve all pre-arranged our lifts home, so at 11:30, Stuart helps to stuff me into the backseat of his sister’s car before getting in the front seat, sighing as he loosens his clothing.

“Thanks for the lift, Emma,” I say to the driver.

“Not a problem Jamie,” Emma replies. “Did you have fun?”

“When I wasn’t trying to keep myself from fainting thanks to this damned corset, yeah!” I joke, making Stuart and Emma laugh.

“The men’s option was hardly any better,” Stuart complains. “This cummerbund, I might as well have been wearing a corset.”

“Oh, like you know what that feels like,” Emma teases.

“And I don’t ever want to,” Stuart retorts. “It’s embarrassing enough I’ll be getting home BEFORE my baby sister!”

“Welcome to getting old,” Emma jokes.

“No, I’m not going to be like you, middle-aged at 26,” Stuart laughs. “Settling down, eventually starting a family… I dunno if I’d EVER be ready for that.”

“Well I guess for you two it’s different,” Emma says. “I don’t mean any offence by this, obviously, but as you two would have to adopt to have kids, you have the option of waiting until you’re ready. Some people aren’t so lucky.” I’m almost bouncing up and down in my seat as Stuart & his sister discuss families. I know I shouldn’t, but I’m so desperate to gossip I can barely contain myself.

“Don’t tell me Lee’s knocked you up?” Stuart asks teasingly.

“No,” Emma sighs. “No, no, no, no. NO.”

“Aww, I was kinda looking forward to being ‘Uncle Stu’,” Stuart jokes. “Guess I’ll have to wait, unless one of the Angels gets pregnant and I can be ‘unofficial Uncle Stu’ to their kid!”

“One of the Angels is pregnant,” I blurt, unable to control my tongue any longer. Luckily, we’re stopped at a red light, otherwise I get the feeling Emma would have just emergency stopped the car.

“…What?” Emma asks.

“Seriously?” Stuart asks incredulously. “Who is it? Is it Krys?”

“…I, um, I don’t know,” I mumble. “When we were in the bathroom Charlotte found a pregnancy test, and it was positive.”

“Well it’s probably hers,” Stuart says.

“Yeah, but why would she use a pregnancy test in a public bathroom when she has her own private one upstairs?” I ask, repeating Charlotte’s earlier argument.

“To make it easier for her to deny that it’s hers?” Stuart muses. “Didn’t you say she was the one who found it?”

“Yeah…” I say. “That’s true…”

After finally releasing myself from my corset and hanging my dress up alongside all my other beautiful costumes (most of which I have, of course, not worn since the first time I wore them), I climb into bed and think over Stuart’s words. It WAS a bit convenient, the way Charlotte found the pregnancy test…

I wake up the following morning at 9am, and quickly run through my morning routine, wanting to get dressed so I can get round to Charlotte’s as fast as possible. As it’s freezing outside I opt for ‘warmth with style’ for my look, pulling on a comfortable short-sleeved bodysuit and a warm pair of thick black tights. I pull on a tight black miniskirt and finish off with a tight, ribbed red sweater and a pair of 4” heeled ankle booties. After applying my usual liberal amount of make-up, perfume and jewellery, I grab my bag and my keys and head out to my car, barely stopping to say goodbye to my parents on the way.

En route to Charlotte’s house I stop off at a convenience store, taking advantage of their self-service checkouts to purchase another pregnancy test- just in case Stuart was right. Thankful that no paparazzi were following me- buying a pregnancy test would’ve been a hell of a thing to try to explain, after all- I eventually arrive at Charlotte’s to be greeted with hugs by both herself and Keith.

“Done some shopping?” Keith asks as I drop my carrier bag in the cloakroom.

“Just a few toiletries,” I lie as I take off my booties and crash on my sofa.

“I’ve told Keith about the test,” Charlotte explains. “Obviously his first reaction was sheer panic that he was about to become a dad, so he made me take another one then and there.”

“…And?” I ask, breaking the awkward silence.

“Not pregnant,” Keith confirms. Oh well, I’m sure the pregnancy test I bought just now will come in useful at some point…

“So whose was it?” I ask. “It’s not like we have access to a DNA testing lab, after all.”

“Is it really too much to ask to wait for whoever it is to come forward themselves?” Keith asks exasperatedly.

“Is it really too much to ask to expect girls to not gossip about their friends?” I ask sarcastically.

“Point taken,” Keith sighs. “You’re all signed to Joshua, surely whoever it is will have told him first? It’ll probably have an impact on the series you’re making.”

“Are you kidding?” Charlotte asks. “If anything it’ll get us loads more publicity, Joshua’s probably over the moon! Think about it: a new generation of Angels already in the making!”

“Or whoever it is will refuse to let their kid be used as a publicity stunt and break from the group,” I muse sadly. “You know if it’s Viks, she won’t let her kid be broadcast, and I doubt Mary would either.”

“Don’t be so sure about Mary, she’s practically royalty in Ireland now,” Charlotte says with a smile. “And can you believe Viks, hooking up with Jonathan?”

“Tell me about it!” I breathe excitedly. “I had no idea she was so, you know, hungry!”

“Hello PlayStation!” Keith states dramatically, accurately sensing that a girly gossip session was about to start- and sure enough, we spend the next few hours talking endlessly about not just the pregnancy, but every other topic under the sun.

After a day of non-stop gossip and DVDs, I eventually depart just after 7pm, still no closer to figuring out which of the Angels is expecting a baby.

“God, I wish you still lived here,” Charlotte complains, hugging me as I walk to my car.

“Keith not enough for you?” I joke, releasing myself from Charlotte.

“Is a boyfriend AND a BFF under the same roof too much to ask for?” Charlotte moans.

“Besides, Keith’s turned my bedroom into his game room,” I sigh. “Couldn’t believe it when I first saw it. And smelled it! It smells like ‘boy’. Doubt I could ever sleep in it again even if I tried!” Despite Charlotte’s prolonged pout, I close my car door and head back home, kicking off my booties and crashing down on my sofa, phone in hand.

“Hi mum, hi dad,” dad jokes as I curl up on the sofa.

“Hi,” I sigh, checking the messages on my phone. “I’m only gone 20 minutes and already Charlotte’s sent me 3 texts.”

“Is she still trying to persuade you to move back in with her?” Dad asks, to which I nod in response. “I’m glad you’re still here with us, especially at Christmas. This’ll be our first ‘proper’ Christmas in- well, ever, I guess. I just wish your grandparents were still around to share it with their granddaughter.” I sigh as I remember my father’s parents, both of whom died before I was 10.

“Do you think they’d have, you know, accepted me for who I am?” I ask.

“I’d have made them,” dad says confidently. “God knows you didn’t deserve the reaction you got from me, I’d have moved heaven and Earth to make sure you didn’t get it from them.”

“…And Grandma Joan?” I ask hesitantly.

“Your mum’s going to see her tomorrow,” dad explains solemnly. “Obviously she doesn’t know about you, and even if we told her, with the Alzheimer’s and all…” I nod quietly- as desperate as I am to be accepted by my family, I need to remember that there are other members of my family whose medical needs are greater than my own.

“Does she ever ask about me?” I whisper.

“I doubt she even remembers you,” dad says sadly. “Certainly the last time I went, she didn’t recognise me.”

“Do- do you wish you were a granddad?” I ask tentatively.

“Why, are you pregnant?” Dad jokes, laughing a little. “Seriously though, I’m not quite ready to be a granddad just yet. When you settle down with a nice man and choose to adopt- that’s when I’ll be ready. Just as long as I’m not dead or senile by then, of course! A better question is, do you wish you were a mum?” I take a deep breath- that’s not a question I ever thought I’d be asked.

“I… really don’t know,” I sigh. “Maybe someday. I don’t know how I’d handle myself around children, especially babies…”

“For your first couple of years we only held on by the skin of our teeth,” dad jokes. “I’m sure you’d make a great mother. Some day.” For one of my best friends that day may be sooner than they think…

I eventually get my head down in bed just after 10pm, but I stay awake until after midnight chatting with the girls on my iPad, talking about our upcoming TV debut, the party, the new ‘power couple’ and all sorts of trivia. Charlotte, of course, took the opportunity to remind everyone that 12 months ago, she was in the Strictly Come Dancing grand final! Despite the volume of gossip, however, not a word was spoken about any expected arrivals.

I wake up the following morning just after 8am, wincing at it still being gloomy outside, and run through my morning routine before getting dressed for the day. Krystie’s dance school is closed over Christmas, but it’s still a Monday and she’s insisted on putting on a lesson just for the six of us this morning. After eating breakfast and running through my morning routine and tying my long blonde hair back into a tight ponytail, I pull on my ballet uniform- a pair of pink tights and a black long-sleeved leotard- before pulling on a black button-up denim skirt and a grey patterned jumper. I pack my dance bag with my ballet slippers and pointe shoes and include a plain black tank leotard just in case Krystie orders me to change upon arrival. I picked out the long sleeved leotard as Charlotte’s being growing her hair longer, and she always wears spaghetti-strapped leotards, so it helps other people tell us apart! After slipping on a pair of black flats and bidding my parents farewell, I head straight to Krystie’s studio where, much to my surprise, Stuart’s car is parked in my usual spot. Heading inside, I see my favourite transman stood next to a familiar young woman.

“Hi Jamie!” Stuart says with a smile. “You remember my little sister Rebecca, right?”

“Yeah, hi,” I say, confused by the presence of the two.

“Hi,” Rebecca says nervously, shaking my hand.

“Why are you so nervous?” I ask, giggling a little. “It’s not like we haven’t met before!”

“That’s what I tried to tell her,” Stuart chuckles. “But ever since the Angels became a brand, it’s all she can talk about. She’s pretty much the most popular girl at uni just because she knows you and Krystie. God knows there’s no other reason…” I can’t help but giggle as Rebecca gave her brother a soft punch in the ribs.

“I’m nervous because Stu and Krystie are letting me join in your lesson,” Rebecca explains. “Krys is my teacher anyway, but I always wanted to be one of the Angels, properly one of the Angels… This is kinda their Christmas present to me.” Inwardly, I’m a little chagrined that Krystie would allow outsiders into our private lesson so easily, but Rebecca’s a cool kid, and it is just for today…

“Well then, for one day only, welcome to the Angels!” I say happily, giving the teenager a quick hug.

“Oh my god, this is so cool!” Rebecca enthuses. As the other girls arrive, Stu and I introduce Rebecca and explain the situation. Unsurprisingly, it’s Charlotte whom Rebecca gushes over the most, and whilst my BFF does soak up the adulation, she makes sure to talk up our other friends as well- especially Viks, whom Charlotte has taken a real liking to over the past few months. Soon enough, Krystie orders us into the studio, and after the seven of us strip down to our leotards and tights and warm up- and Krystie’s had a chance to tie my bun- the ‘lesson’ gets underway.

“Girls, I’m sure you’ve noticed that today, we are seven,” Krystie says with a smile. “As part of her Christmas present, Rebecca Milton, baby sister of the only ex-boyfriend of mine that’s worth a damn-“

“Thanks!” Stuart interrupts from the back of the studio, making everyone laugh.

“-Will be joining in today’s lesson,” Krystie concludes, shooting a devilish smile at Stuart. “So, Becca, you’re already wearing your pointes, how about you show us old fogeys some of your moves?” Smiling nervously, Rebecca takes a deep breath and starts running through several dance routines, performing the steps with flawless ease. As much as it pains me to say it- she’s a much better ballerina than I am!

As Krystie directs Rebecca’s dancing, I casually move over to where Charlotte is stood.

“Hey Charlie,” I whisper.

“Hey Jay,” Charlotte says, stroking the sleeve of my leotard. “I love that leo, is that one of your freebies?”

“It actually isn’t,” I say, stretching the fabric to give Charlotte a better view. “Saw it on their store a few months ago and couldn’t resist.”

“You know you’re a model when you own a hundred leotards and spend money buying another one,” Charlotte jokes. “Do you still wear them as day clothes?” I simply shrug and grin in response.

“Got to get my use out of them somehow!” I giggle. “So, figured out who it is yet?”

“Are you saying you HAVE?” Charlotte sighs. “You’d have thought that with them all wearing skin-tight Lycra it’d have made the job easier, but nope.”

“Jamie! Charlotte!” Krystie calls. “Get your pointes on, do you remember that first routine you did for Ellen, the ‘twins’ one?”

“Probably,” I say, annoyed at my conversation being interrupted.

“Good,” Krystie says. “You’re doing it now for Becca!” Charlotte and I both giggle and roll our eyes as we swap our canvas ballet slippers for our expensive satin pointe shoes, smiling all throughout our impromptu recital of the dance Ellen choreographed for us last year.

“So cool!” Rebecca enthused at the end of the dance.

“It’s cooler with the proper costumes,” I laugh, smoothing out my leotard.

“Oh, well trust Miss Burke to ruin the surprise!” Krystie mock-sighs.

“…I wouldn’t have ruined it if I knew what the surprise actually WAS, Miss Fullerton,” I say, sticking my tongue out at Krystie and earning her tongue in return.

“Well I WAS going to record the seven of us dancing a routine I choreographed, in full costume…” Krystie states. “Dunno if it’s worth bothering now…” Immediately, I find myself on my knees, jokingly begging forgiveness.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” I mock-wail as the other girls laugh. “Please forgive me!”

“Tell you what,” Krystie laughs. “You go and get the costumes, and you’re forgiven.” Giggling excitedly, I skip off to the storage room and return a couple of minutes later dragging a clothes rack, filled with beautiful pink tutus that elicit gasps of awe from the other six girls.

“They’re beautiful!” Rebecca coos as she feels the flimsy yet stiff net of the tutu.

“They belong to the studio, so they’re not to take home,” Krystie explains. “Well, unless you’re Becca, anyway!” Rebecca gasps excitedly, giving Krystie a quick hug.

“Thank you so much!” Rebecca squeaks. “Can I change into it now?”

“That’s what they’re here for!” Krystie laughs.

“I’ll be in reception then,” Stuart jokes, picking up his iPad. “Last thing I need to see today is my baby sister’s boobs, thank you very much.”

“BOY!” The seven of us yell after Stuart as he leave the studio.

“And proud!” Stuart retorts with a laugh. As Krystie and Mary help Rebecca with her costume, I hint to Charlotte to go and help Viks with her tutu whilst I help Hannah with hers.

“Hey,” I say to the statuesque blonde girl. “You’ve been uncharacteristically quiet today.”

“I’m just feeling a little under the weather,” Hannah complains. “I’ve not been sleeping well, having some difficulty keeping food down, that’s all.”

“Oh really?” I enquire, making several mental notes.

“Yeah, I always seem to get ill at Christmas,” Hannah sighs as I lace her into her pink tutu.

“It’s nothing in particular causing it this year, then?” I ask, stripping off my leotard and stepping into my costume.

“That amazing corset I wore two days ago, maybe,” Hannah jokes as she laces me in. “Oh my god,” Hannah exclaims with shock. “I just realised, we need tiaras with these costumes!” The previously downbeat girl, now bubbly again after getting into her tutu, grabs my hand and drags me toward the store closet, from where we return mere seconds later with seven sparkly tiaras in our hands.

“I crown thee,” Hannah says with mock pomp and circumstances, “Princess Rebecca of West London!” Rebecca giggles as she inspects herself in the studio mirrors.

“Stu!” Krystie yells. “Get back in here!” Hesitantly, Stuart pokes his head around the studio doors, to be greeted by the sight of his younger sister in full costume, balancing en pointe in an elegant ballet pose.

“Very beautiful,” Stuart says with a proud brother’s smile.

“Get photos! Get lots of photos!” Rebecca orders as she tries to maintain her balance. Still laughing, Stuart obliges, taking photos of not just Rebecca, but all seven of us in our amazing costumes. After 90 minutes’ practice, we run through the routine Krystie put together for us- making several mistakes along the way, of course- as Stuart videos us. As the morning draws to a close, none of us want to remove our tutus- least of all Rebecca, who’s had a wide grin on her face all throughout the day!

“This has been the most amazing Christmas present ever,” the 18 year old girl enthuses. “Thank you all so, so much!”

“Hey, any, um, sister of Stuart’s is a sister of mine!” Hannah says, though it’s plainly obvious from her voice that she’s more tired than usual.

“Didn’t you say you were a singer?” Charlotte asks, making Rebecca blush slightly.

“Only in that I occasionally do some singing,” Rebecca laughs. “I’m studying music at uni, here in London.”

“Ah, like your brother?” I ask, to which Rebecca nods. “Charlotte, were you suggesting that miss Milton here should get professional representation, maybe from a certain Nigerian gentleman?”

“Maaaaaaybe,” Charlotte says coyly, making everyone giggle. “She’s certainly got enough dancing talent, that’s for sure!”

“AND she’d make a gorgeous model too,” Hannah says.

“No she wouldn’t!” Stuart yells from the back of the studio, earning himself boos from all seven girls- not least his sister!

“You know what,” Rebecca says confidently. “Just for that, I AM going to give Joshua a call after Christmas!” The studio breaks out in cheers and a round of applause as Rebecca defiantly sticks her tongue out at her brother, who simply rolls his eyes and laughs in response. After changing back into my street clothes (leaving the leotard and tights in place for warmth), I offer Charlotte a lift home, which she happily accepts.

“Rebecca’s cool,” Charlotte says with a smile. “Reckon she’s ‘Angel’ quality?”

“I dunno,” I confess. “You’d have thought I’d be used to it by now but it was actually kinda uncomfortable spending the whole morning with someone who is basically a fan. Even if I do already know her through Stuart.”

“Yeah, I get what you mean,” Charlotte muses. “She did seem a little… Eager. Heh, eager enough that Joshua’d probably love her!” I giggle a little at Charlotte’s comparison.

“She’s also kinda young,” I muse.

“I think she said she was 19 in March,” Charlotte says. “That’s no younger than Krystie was when we started hanging out with her.”

“Well either way, it’s Joshua’s decision,” I say, making Charlotte nod in agreement. “I kinda miss being able to choose who to be friends with!”

“I’m happy with the five I have,” Charlotte laughs. “So, who’s your money on?”

“Hannah,” I state confidently. “Got to be her. Did you notice how subdued she was compared to normal?”

“I’m not so sure,” Charlotte says. “I reckon Mary, notice how she didn’t really talk to anyone apart from Krystie? I reckon she’s told her, and is waiting to tell the rest of us.”

“Or it could be that Krystie is confiding in her and she doesn’t want to risk ruining the secret,” I sigh. “Doubt we’ll get told tonight, either…”

After dropping Charlotte off, I head home and crash on the sofa, chatting on Facebook to Stuart and the girls. The ‘tonight’ I was referring to when talking to Charlotte was a private mini-party Charlotte’s hosting, just for the Angels and their boyfriends, which I’m secretly dreading due to my current lack of a boyfriend. It was two years ago- almost to the day- that I got together with Paul, and that’s an anniversary I’m trying very hard not to think about. Still, a party is a party, and five female friends are better than one boyfriend any day of the week, so just after dinner, I head upstairs and, after fixing my make-up, change into a comfortable black bodysuit and sheer black tights, before throwing on a short grey sweater dress with a wide black belt. I pull on a pair of very high-heeled brown thigh-high boots. Smirking at my warm, comfortable but still extremely sexy look, I head downstairs, where Viks is already waiting to pick me up (I’m not driving as I refuse to be sober whilst I’m reminded that I’m single at Christmas!).

“Hello sexy boots!” Hannah jokes as I slide into the back seat of Viks’s car. “Seriously, where did you get those? I’ve been looking for a pair like that for ages!”

“I’ve had them ages,” I laugh. “Think they came from a footwear shoot about 18 months ago.”

“Note to self- ask Joshua to get me more footwear shoots!” Hannah laughs.

“How are Jonathan and Martin getting there?”

“They’re not going, the useless BOYS!” Hannah sighs.

“In fairness, Jonathan’s mum is only in town for this week,” Viks laughs. “Ever tried saying no to Joshua?”

“Point taken,” I giggle. “This is gonna sound selfish but I’m kinda relieved- I really wasn’t looking forward to being the only single girl there.”

“Isn’t Krystie single?” Viks asks.

“She’s kinda got a ‘friends with benefits’ thing going on with Stuart, I think,” Hannah explains. “Dunno exactly how THAT would work…”

“On the plus side,” I say tentatively, “at least there’d be no risk of accidental pregnancy…” The car falls quiet- I’ve almost certainly touched a sensitive spot…

“Yeah, that’s true,” Hannah laughs. “God knows that the LAST thing I need right now!” Okay, I think to myself, it’s not Hannah then. Unless she’s being overly defensive…

We arrive at Charlotte’s place soon afterward to find everyone else- Mary & her boyfriend, Krystie & Stuart and (obviously) Charlotte & Keith- already there.

“It’s just us girls,” Hannah dramatically sighs to Charlotte as we’re greeted with hugs. “Our boyfriends are being useless tonight…”

“Those of us that have one,” I self-pityingly moan, earning a tight hug from Hannah.

“Don’t be sympathetic toward her,” Krystie orders with a laugh. “I’ve seen your YouTube channel, you can’t complain about being single when you’re getting literally hundreds of boys a DAY throwing themselves at you!” I giggle a little at Krystie’s mockery.

“Okay, point taken,” I say with a laugh, following the rest of the party into Charlotte’s main room and crashing on one of the chairs.

“No cameras tonight?” Viks asks.

“Nah,” Charlotte explains. “Felt we needed a night just to ourselves.”

“I’ll try not to take it too personally that my birthday wasn’t one of those nights,” Viks jokes, prompting Charlotte to jump up and give her a hug.

“Next time just do what I did, and leave the country!” Mary jokes. “More importantly… Jamie, tell us NOW where you got those AMAZING boots!”

“I wish I could remember!” I laugh, stroking the soft leather covering my knees. “But you’re right, I need to wear these more often!” Okay, so not Mary either- she’s the most level-headed of all of us, she wouldn’t be spending money on expensive boots with a baby on the way… Would she?

“Well I’m Googling them as soon as I get home,” Mary laughs. “Dan, hope you’ve still got space on your credit card!”

“The poor thing’s screaming for mercy as it is this month!” Dan jokes, wrapping a protective arm around his girlfriend. Is it strained because they’re buying baby supplies? If Mary was pregnant, surely Dan would be the first person she’d tell?

“Yeah, I doubt any of us need any extra expense right now,” Charlotte laughs, cottoning on to my line of questioning.

“Says the millionaire!” Krystie teases.

“Yeah, god knows I could with a little extra money right now,” Hannah sighs. “I’d settle for a pair of ridiculously sexy boots, though!”

A little while later, I head into the kitchen to help out Charlotte & Keith, who are busy ferrying food through to the main room.

“Okay, you’re right,” I sigh. “It’s obviously Mary.”

“No way,” Charlotte laughs. “It’s got to be Hannah. You can tell just by looking at her!”

“Yeah, but Mary and Dan spending more money than usual…” I argue.

“…Hannah needing more income?” Charlotte counters.

“Please, for the love of god, just ask them!” Keith sighs.

“It’s got to be Mary,” I argue. “She hasn’t told us because she wants to tell her parents first, and she wants to tell them face-to-face, which she can only do when she goes to Ireland for the New Year.”

“I can’t wait until the new year to find out!” Charlotte squeaks. “Seriously, it’s GOT to be Hannah.”

“How about,” Keith sighs, “I open a bottle of champagne and offer it to everyone? If anyone protests that they’re driving, we’ll pay for them to get a taxi. The only one who refuses the drink is the one who’s expecting.”

“Oh, you sneaky man!” Charlotte giggles, slipping a hand in Keith’s back pocket. “That’s brilliant! I love the way you constantly remind me why I love you so much.” Keith and Charlotte exchange a brief kiss- that I desperately try not to pay any attention to.

“I’ll get the glasses,” I say, glad for the distraction.

Less than two minutes later, Keith and I re-enter the main room carrying platters filled with glasses of champagne.

“I figured if Christmas wasn’t the time to break out the good stuff, when was?” Charlotte explains as she hands out the glasses. The boys, of course, immediately grab their glasses, as do Krystie and, much to mine & Charlotte’s surprise, Hannah. When I take the platter toward Viks & Mary, however, I encounter the first dissent.

“No thanks, driving,” Viks says politely.

“Same,” Mary says.

“We’ll book you both taxis, you can pick up your cars tomorrow,” Charlotte says confidently, forcing the glasses into the girls’ hands.

“Fair enough then!” Viks says happily, but Mary is still unhappy.

“Really, I’d prefer not to,” Mary says, clearly nervous about something. Dan’s also holding her hand very tightly…

“Why not?” Charlotte asks innocently.

“Because I’m pregnant, okay!?” Mary snaps, before breaking down in tears. “I’m- I’m sorry, I’m so- I just- I didn’t want it to come out like this…” Immediately, everyone in the room gathers round to comfort the distraught Irish girl.

“Oh my god,” Hannah says, her eyes wide with shock. “How- how long?”

“I think Mary needs some air,” Dan says firmly, leading his sobbing girlfriend out of the room and into the entrance hall. The main room stands in stunned silence, unable to comprehend what had just transpired.

“I think we should raise a toast,” Charlotte says stoically. “To Mary Logan, an amazing friend, and no doubt an amazing mother.”

“To Mary,” we all say quietly.

“And to Daniel Carter, the best dad-to-be in the world,” Keith says.

“To Dan,” we all toast, before the awkward silence returns.

“Someone should check on her,” Charlotte says, before correcting herself. “Them, someone should check on them, see if they’re alright.” Charlotte looks pointedly at Krystie who simply shrugs her shoulders.

“Don’t look at me,” Krystie complains. “This is the first I’ve heard about it too.” I take a deep breath- it was myself and Charlotte who conducted the ‘investigation’, it’s us who should take responsibility for the fallout.

“I’ll look in on them,” I say quietly, handing my champagne glass to Charlotte and heading out into the hall. Much to my surprise, the sound of Mary’s crying is coming from Charlotte’s dance studio. Gingerly, I knock on the door.

“Hey,” I whisper. “Can I come in?” Unsurprisingly, it’s Dan who answers the door.

“Hey Jamie,” Dan says uneasily. “I… Don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Everyone downstairs is worried sick,” I explain. “We just want to make sure she’s okay…”

“Well, she clearly isn’t,” Dan says flatly. “I know you care, but right now, we need to be alone.”

“Well make sure Mary knows that when she needs us, we’ll be there,” I say. “24 hours a day, 7 days a week, we’ll never stop loving her and we’ll never stop supporting her.”

“J-Jamie?” Mary asks, her voice still wobbly from crying.

“Mary?” I reply. “C-Can I come in?” Mary obviously nods her consent, as Dan steps aside and lets me enter the studio. For Mary’s sake, I try not to wince as I hear my heavy heels clomp across the polished wooden floor.

“Hey,” I say, sitting down cross-legged next to Mary. “Is- is there anything I can do?” Mary tearfully shakes her head.

“I’ve ruined everything,” Mary sobs. “I was going to go to university, we were going to be a rich and famous group of models… I’m so sorry!” Immediately, I lean forward and embrace the distraught girl.

“You’ve ruined nothing!” I insist. “None of that crap’s important, what’s important is that you’re healthy and happy. Are… Are you keeping the baby?” Mary tearfully nods.

“You know I was raised Catholic,” Mary whispers. “I don’t believe in everything I was told when I was a girl but I- I just can’t terminate a life, it’s like I can sense it inside of me, growing…”

“Mary and I have already agreed to get married,” Dan explains, making my jaw drop.

“Oh my god,” I exclaim happily. “You’re engaged!?”

“We are now,” Mary says with a smile. “I was hoping to keep that a secret too, at least until I got back from Belfast.”

“Sorry,” Dan grimaces, but much to the relief of both of us, Mary simply stands up and gives her new fiancé a big hug.

“Guess there’s no reason to hide this anymore,” Mary laughs, retrieving a small diamond ring from her bra and slipping it on her finger.

“It’s beautiful,” I coo, examining the ring.

“Just like its owner,” Dan says, giving Mary a long kiss. “Are you ready to go downstairs?” Mary takes a deep breath and nods her head.

“Can’t hide forever,” Mary says, wiping the last of her tears from her eyes. I follow the couple downstairs, and can’t help but grin widely when they open the doors to the main room to be greeted by thunderous applause and cheers.

“Thanks guys,” Mary says, still highly emotional. “Thank you all so much!”

“No, thank YOU for being you,” Hannah says, giving Mary a long hug.

“To answer the next inevitable questions,” Mary says with a beautiful smile, “I’m due at the start of July, I don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl, and yes,” Mary continues, holding up her new engagement ring, “Dan and I are getting married!”

“Oh my god, Mary!!!” Krystie exclaims excitedly, rushing forward and examining Mary’s ring. “This is so awesome!” Krystie gives Mary a long, tight hug, before realising her mistake in holding Mary so tight and patting her belly!

“And yes, of course you’ll be my maid of honour,” Mary says to Krystie, who simply gasps happily and gives Mary another long hug.

“This is so A-MA-ZING!!!!” Krystie squeaks, bouncing up and down whilst she hangs on to the bride-to-be.

“And Jamie, Charlotte, Hannah, Viks?” Mary says with a smile. “Assuming you’re all cool with a weekend in Belfast, you’ll all be bridesmaids!”

“Woohoo!” Hannah and Charlotte simultaneously yell, before the whole room descends on Mary in a loving group hug.

Five minutes later, after the room settles down a bit, Mary drags myself and Krystie over to a quiet corner of the main room. Understandably, Dan- as the groom- and father-to-be- is having a lot of attention lavished upon him, so Mary takes advantage of this to sneak a quiet word with myself and her maid of honour.

“I didn’t want the other girls to hear this,” Mary says quietly. “But I want you two to be godmothers to my baby.” Both Krystie and I gasp and are nearly moved to tears by the request.

“Oh my god, that’s so amazing,” Krystie says, giving Mary yet another hug.

“Thank you, this is such an honour,” I say, giving Mary a hug of my own. “But am I, you know, ‘qualified’ to be a godmother to a Catholic baby?” Mary simply laughs loudly at my concern.

“Hell, can’t see why not,” Mary giggles. “You’re legally female, and I’m not due until July, so you’ll be anatomically female at that time as well, and there’s no mention of genetics in the bible so I’m just gonna go ahead and assume they don’t care about that!” I giggle again and exchange another hug with the expectant mother.

“Besides,” Mary continues, “who better to be godmothers to a Catholic baby than a transsexual agnostic and a bisexual atheist?” The three of us laugh and exchange a final group hug, but I feel a sinking feeling as I see Charlotte- who’s talking with Keith and Dan- glance over in my direction.

“What about Charlotte?” I whisper nervously. “She’ll see this as a snub…”

“It’s my baby,” Mary says confidently. “I’ll choose who I want to be godmother.” I nod in agreement, but I can’t help but feeling that this may undo some of the hard work I’ve put into repairing my relationship with my BFF…

“Hey Jay,” Charlotte says to me ten minutes later as I’m clearing away empty champagne glasses.

“Hey Charlotte,” I say happily, still buzzing from Mary’s request.

“I saw you and Krystie talking to Mary privately,” Charlotte teases. “Don’t try to hide it, I know what’s going on- you and her have been chosen for godmothers, right?” I nearly drop my tray of glasses as Charlotte confronts me with this information.

“It- it wasn’t my decision,” I say nervously.

“Oh relax!” Charlotte insists, playfully grabbing my shoulder. “After what happened in the summer I knew there was no chance I’d get picked. And besides, you and Krystie deserve it the most. I guess I’ll just have to settle for being godmother to YOUR kids if you ever choose to adopt.”

“Umm,” I begin hesitantly, “you DO know I don’t actually believe in god, right?”

“Well, whatever the agnostic or atheist or whatever equivalent of godmother is, then!” Charlotte jokes. “Even though I won’t be any OFFICIAL relative of Mary’s daughter, I’ll still love her live she was my own.”

“…How are you so sure it’ll be a girl?” I ask, giggling as we enter the kitchen.

“Oh come on,” Charlotte laughs. “As if the first child born to one of the Angels would be anything OTHER than a girl!” Charlotte and I share a long giggle before her facial expression suddenly sobers.

“Jamie… Can I tell you a secret?” Charlotte asks quietly.

“Of course,” I whisper back. “You’re my BFF, you can tell me anything, you know that.”

“…I’ve been pregnant before,” Charlotte whispers, causing my jaw to drop.

“Oh my god,” I quietly mumble. “Wh-when? What happened?”

“When you were ‘filling in’ for me, that first week?” Charlotte replies. “Tracking down that doctor wasn’t the only thing on my ‘to-do list’.”

“Did- did you-“ I stammer.

“-Have an abortion?” Charlotte asks. “Yep,” I clamp my hands to my mouth in shock.

“I was only nineteen,” Charlotte sniffs. “I wasn’t ready to be a mother, I know Keith wasn’t ready to be a father… I had my whole career ahead of me… Let’s face it, I’d have been a terrible mum…” Now sniffling myself, I lean forward and give Charlotte a long, tender hug.

“You’d have been a wonderful mother,” I say reassuringly- even if I don’t fully believe my words. “God knows you’re the best sister in the world!”

“Thanks,” Charlotte mumbles. “Obviously you can NOT tell Keith about this.”

“I promise,” I say. “Thank you, thank you for trusting me with this.”

“If I can’t trust my sister, who can I trust?” Charlotte says, laughing as she gives me yet another hug. “Now I’ve shared my secret with you, share yours with me- where DID you get those boots?” I giggle as together, we head back into the party.

I stay at the party until 11pm, when Mary- who, understandably, had been the centre of all attention- declares that she’s feeling tired, so everyone decides to call it a night at that point. As she’s still okay to drive, Mary gives myself, Krystie and (obviously) Dan a lift home.

“Go team godmother!” Krystie laughs.

“Do I not get a say in who’ll be godmother?” Dan moans.

“NO!” We three girls shout simultaneously, breaking down into fits of giggles at Dan’s expense.

“Oh, don’t pout,” Mary chastises. “You get to pick both godfathers, after all!”

“Eh, fair enough,” Dan says. “God a couple of names in mind already.”

“How does it feel to be a father?” I ask Dan, mindful that with all the attention I lavished on Mary, she won’t be the child’s only parent.

“It feels pretty good, actually,” Dan says. “I mean, yes, it’s a surprise, but it’s definitely a pleasant one. I kinda always knew Mary would be the girl I’d end up starting a family with, it’s just come a bit sooner than expected.”

“Aww,” Mary says happily. “I love you so much, hubby to be!”

“I love you too, wifey to be!” Dan laughs as Krystie and I playfully roll our eyes at each other on the back seat.

I climb into bed almost immediately as I arrive home, tired from the night’s revelations. Between Mary wanting me to be godmother and Charlotte confiding in me about her dark secret… I’m amazed by how much the girls trust me, given that this time last year, I had a ‘dark secret’ of my own that I probably wouldn’t have revealed to this day if I hadn’t been forced. Of course, if I hadn’t revealed the secret, I’d probably still have Paul, and would be celebrating our two year anniversary… But if I still had him, I probably wouldn’t have Hannah or Viks in my life, I probably wouldn’t have the close relationship I now have with my parents… And if there’s something I’ve learned over the past few months, it’s to be grateful for the things I do have, rather than regret the things I’ve lost.

I wake up on Christmas Eve morning feeling re-energised. After running through my morning routine I pick out a very basic outfit for the day- a plain black skirt, ribbed black tights and a dark green sweater- and head downstairs, crashing on my sofa with my trusty iPad in hand. As a group, we’ve agreed that Christmas Eve will be strictly a day for family only (Charlotte and Mary going to their boyfriends’ houses for obvious reasons), but that doesn’t mean we have to cut off all communication with each other! Immediately as I sit down, I open up a new Facebook chat window to all five girls and start typing.

‘Happy Christmas Eve!!!!!’ I type, getting immediately smiley face responses from Krystie and Hannah.

‘Happy Christmas Angels!’ Hannah types, the excitement in her words plain to see.

‘You at Martin’s house today?’ Krystie asks.

‘I have to be, given that he skipped out last night!’ Hannah replies.

‘What was his excuse, anyway?’ I ask. ‘He missed all the fun, after all!’

‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ Hannah replies. ‘Anyway, how’s the mum-to-be this morning?’ The conversation pauses briefly as we wait for our Irish friend to reply.

‘Still in bed then, I take it,’ Krystie types.

‘I hope she’s not throwing up,’ I type.

‘Oh god, she might be,’ Krystie types, clearly worried that she may have made a faux pas. ‘Mary, when you read this, sorry if you have got morning sickness!’

‘Another reason I’m never getting pregnant,’ Charlotte types, joining the conversation.

‘I’ll not tell Keith you said that,’ I type with a winking smiley face, earning a smiley face response in a private chat window.

‘Still can’t believe our little ‘family’ is growing,’ Charlotte muses.

‘Viks and I can always leave if you’d prefer,’ Hannah types with a sticking-out-tongue smiley.

‘Don’t you dare!’ Charlotte types. ‘As far as I’m concerned, the more friends I have, the better!’

‘Good, because I have no intention of going anywhere!’ Viks types with a smiley face.

‘Speaking of ‘the more friends the better’…’ I type, ‘What do you think to Stu’s sister? She’s clearly desperate to be an Angel.’

‘Becca’s cool,’ Krystie types. ‘She’s been in my advanced adult class for months now and is super-talented, I’ve actually told her to call Joshua more than once, dunno whether or not she has though.’

‘Problem is,’ Hannah replies, ‘if we start letting more people in, where does it stop? We can’t just let anyone who wants to be an Angel be one…’

‘This is true,’ I type with an air of regret in my voice. ‘I kinda miss the days when I could make friends without them having to sign contracts first!’ I’m greeted with a barrage of thumbs-ups from the girls- even Charlotte.

“I’ll get onto her to pester Joshua again,’ Krystie types.

‘Is this Rebecca we’re talking about?’ Mary asks.

‘Hey, mum-to-be!’ Hannah immediately replies.

‘Whoa, mama!’ Krystie types.

‘Yes, yes, thanks,’ Mary types. ‘And to answer your earlier question, no, no morning ‘sickness’.’

‘Good,’ I reply with a smiley. ‘Dan’s folks thrilled at the prospect of becoming grandparents?’

‘They already are,’ Mary replies. ‘As are mine, thank god. You know I’m the youngest of five, if I was the first one to have kids I dread to think what their reaction would be!’

‘Lol,’ everyone replies.

“So much for spending the day with family,” dad jokes as he sees me immersed in my iPad. “Going to talk to us at any point?”

“We’re discussing business,” I half-lie.

“Well take a day off,” dad advises. “God knows you’ve gone through enough this year that you’ve earned some relaxation.”

“I am relaxing!” I laugh, causing dad to smile and sigh as I turn my attention back to the girls.

However, I do eventually end up putting the iPad down and eating Christmas dinner with my family. Needless to say, both parents were proud that I’d been selected as godmother to Mary’s unborn child, even though like me neither of them are especially religious. Mention of Mary’s upcoming marriage got dad talking- even if wasn’t 100% serious- about one day walking me down the aisle, something I never thought I’d hear him say!

I eventually get to bed at 11pm, but I hardly sleep at all during the night, much like I couldn’t on Christmas Eve when I was a little boy. Even though I now earn a very healthy amount of money each year and pretty much buy anything I want as soon as I want it, this will be my first Christmas under my parents’ roof in six years, and the thought of there being a pile of presents waiting downstairs for me- not to mention my parents’ reactions to the expensive gifts I’ve bought for them- is almost more than I can bear.

Needless to say, I’m awake and downstairs in my dressing gown just before 6am on Christmas morning, eagerly waiting for my parents to arrive so we can start unwrapping our presents. My parents have definitely spoiled me this year- my dad doesn’t earn as much as me, but he does have a very good job, and I am their only child, so I’m not going to say no to all the treats they’ve lavished on me this year!

Even though they’ve been specifically instructed NOT to buy me clothes, I still find several dresses and skirts in amongst my presents, and even- despite the massive pile I still have upstairs- a new ballet leotard from my mother. Most of my gifts are more personal, though- framed photos of me with my grandparents, DVDs of my favourite TV shows & movies, a new silver bracelet and several other trinkets, including- much to my dad’s amusement- a copy of my own 2014 calendar, despite it being sold out just about everywhere! My main present, however- a new laptop computer- is very much appreciated, and earned both my parents grateful hugs and kisses!

My parents were both highly impressed with their own gifts- my mum’s got virtually a whole new wardrobe thanks to the connections I’ve made over the past few months, along with several items of cosmetics and perfume. I’ve also jokingly given her one of the ballet leotards I got in my endorsement, just in case she ever does take Krystie up on her offer of joining her (surprisingly popular) over 50s class! Dad was especially pleased with his own new designer suit, but he was much more pleased with the set of titanium golf clubs he’d been dropping hints about all year!

After a hearty lunch, I change into one of my new long dresses (pulling on sheer black tights underneath, of course) and opened up my iPad to find an Angels conversation already in full swing.

‘Merry Christmas girls!’ I type happily, receiving similar responses from all five of my best friends.

‘Thanks for the calendar!’ All five girls type near-simultaneously- I’d given them the same gag gift my parents had given me, and was expecting this response!

‘You’re very welcome,’ I type with a ‘giggling’ smiley. ‘What’s everyone doing tonight?’

‘TV, especially the Strictly Christmas special,’ Viks replies.

‘Basically that,’ Hannah concurs. ‘Strictly, Call the Midwife, Netflix.’

‘I hope ‘Call the Midwife’ means you’re planning on watching it and not planning me a surprise!’ Mary types to general amusement.

‘Damn, now I have to think of something else to get you!’ Krystie types to mass ‘lol’s.

‘What you got planned, Jamie?’ Charlotte asks.

‘Assuming I stay awake through Doctor Who, the same,’ I reply.

‘Well you’re all welcome at Chez Charlotte for drinks tonight,’ Charlotte types. ‘ESPECIALLY you Jamie, your ‘special’ gift really can’t wait until tomorrow!’ I grin eagerly at Charlotte’s teasing- we’d agreed to exchange our presents to each other on Boxing Day (the calendars aside, of course), but for weeks now Charlotte’s told me about an extra special gift she’d got for me, and the anticipation is almost unbearable!

‘I’ll make my excuses,’ I type.

Sure enough, after the Queen’s Speech, I explain my eagerness to unwrap Charlotte’s ‘special’ present and depart despite my parents’ protests. When I arrive at Charlotte’s house, she’s already waiting on her front doorstep for me, literally bouncing up and down with excitement.

“Hey Jay!” Charlotte says, giving me a tight hug. “CUTE dress!”

“Thanks,” I say, happily returning my BFF’s hug. “Love your dress too, did Keith buy you that?”

“Yep,” Charlotte says proudly, grabbing my hand and leading me indoors, making me stumble a little on the gravel in my stilettos. “He’s finally starting to learn!”

“What’s this ‘extra special’ gift you have for me?” I ask, eager to unwrap my present. In the past, mine & Charlotte’s presents to each other have been particularly special, and even after our difficulties, 2013’s gifts are no different- at the very least, mine isn’t.

“It’s upstairs,” Charlotte says, clearly as eager to give me my present as I am to receive it. “Okay, close your eyes…” Sighing, I dutifully close my eyes and gingerly ease forward as Charlotte leads me into one of the house’s 5 bedrooms.

“Okay,” Charlotte squeaks. “Open them!” I open my eyes, and a wave of emotion hits me as I take in the sight before me. I’m standing in my bedroom. MY bedroom, as it was before I moved out of Charlotte’s house, painstakingly recreated in every way, even down to the fashion magazines on top of my chest of drawers.

“Charlotte…” I whisper, tears welling in my eyes.

“If you’re not ready to move back in yet, that’s okay,” Charlotte says softly. “But your room- and it is YOUR room- will always be here in case you want it.”

“This is…” I say, before cutting my sentence short and wrapping Charlotte in a tight hug. “Thank you, thank you so much!”

“Thank Keith,” Charlotte laughs. “He’s the one who had to give up his games room! But seriously… It’s been too long. I want my BFF back as a permanent fixture in my life. I- I love you, Jamie.”

“I love you, Charlotte,” I whisper, still blinking tears out of my eyes. “God, my present’s going to be pathetic compared to this…”

“Well I haven’t opened it yet,” Charlotte giggles. “Let’s get downstairs, quick!” Giggling uncontrollably, I grab Charlotte’s hand as she leads us into the lounge, where her presents from (and to) the Angels lay unopened on the sofa. Smiling- and still emotional from my own Christmas surprise- I hand Charlotte the small box I’d carefully gift-wrapped the previous week.

“Okay, so jewellery,” Charlotte says with a smile, before she tears the wrapping paper off and opens the box, holding up the silver jewelled bracelet inside.

“Jamie…” Charlotte says, though I can tell she’s slightly underwhelmed. “It’s beautiful.”

“Note the five crystals on the top,” I say, fastening the bracelet around Charlotte’s wrist.

“They’re very pretty,” Charlotte says, examining the jewels.

“They’re me,” I say proudly. “Well, me, Mary, Krystie, Hannah and Viks. Viks told me about someone at her university who has access to some super-science machines that can compress stuff down into a jewel, and that it works on hair, so I collected locks of hair from all of them, had them pressed into jewels, and set into that bracelet.” Charlotte starts silently crying as I go into further detail about the bracelet. “I know you’ve been feeling like an outsider because you feel like you were the last to join the group- when you should know that without you, there wouldn’t be a group- and I know that you’ll be lonely when you’re filming the rest of the shows you’ve been contracted to do, so I figured that this way, you’ll always have the Angels with you. Merry Christmas, Charlotte.” Charlotte, with tears running down her cheeks, launches herself at me and wraps me in the tightest hug she has ever given me.

“Thank you so much,” Charlotte sniffles with genuine emotion. “It’s perfect, absolutely perfect.”

“Obviously it’s technically from all five of us,” I say, unwrapping myself from Charlotte’s arms.

“Well then I’ll just have to give the rest of you huge hugs when they get here!” Charlotte jokes. Sure enough, as the girls steadily arrive over the course of the evening, Charlotte greets them all with massive, tight hugs, eliciting a few surprised responses until they see the bracelet! Over the course of the evening we unwrap our presents, watch television, eat, drink and be the merriest we’ve been in a very long time. As 10pm rolls around, I find myself reluctant to leave- as much as I’ve loved living at home with my parents over the last few months, my bedroom- and my bed- is upstairs, waiting for me to sleep in it. I know Charlotte wants things to go back to the way they were before our falling out, and there’s a growing part of me that’s desperate for the exact same thing. Sighing, I take my phone out of my bag and dial home.

“Hi dad,” I say.

“Hi Jamie,” dad says. “Are you having fun at Charlotte’s?”

“Yeah…” I say hesitantly. “Umm, I’ve had quite a bit to drink,” I lie. “And I was kinda thinking…”

“I’m okay to drive,” dad says with a chuckle. “I’ll come and pick you up.” My father’s unexpected offer catches me by surprise- especially as I get a huge bollocking every time a picture of me under the influence of alcohol appears in the press (which fortunately, isn’t often).

“Oh no,” I stammer. “Don’t trouble yourself, um, Charlotte said I can stay over here tonight.” In the corner of my eyes, I can see Charlotte grin widely and wind up for yet another tight hug.

“Hmm, okay,” dad says, clearly disappointed that he won’t get to spend Christmas night with his daughter. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow morning then.”

“See you tomorrow,” I say with a smile. Immediately as I click off my phone, Charlotte is alongside me on my sofa, giving me yet another tight hug.

“I have the best bestest BFF of all time!” Charlotte squeaks. I can’t help but giggle and relax into Charlotte’s squeeze.

“Nah, I have,” I say contentedly. “How many BFFs would give up an entire room for their friend?”

I climb into bed just after midnight, wearing a tiny nightie that I’d attempted to borrow from Charlotte, but she insisted I took for keeps. This is my third Christmas as Jamie-Lee, and unlike the last two, I’m spending Christmas night alone in bed, yet I’m much happier and more contented than I’ve ever been in my life.

I wake up on Boxing Day morning at 9am and run through my morning routine like I’d never lived anywhere other than Charlotte’s house. It’s only when I go to pick out a fresh bra and thong, only to find my drawers empty, that I remember that I technically don’t actually live here- as much like home as it feels. Sighing, I pull on yesterday’s dress and pick my spare pair of tights out of my bag before heading downstairs, where Charlotte and Keith are already waiting for me.

“Hey Jay!” Charlotte says, leaping out of her chair and giving me yet ANOTHER tight hug.

“Hi Charlotte, Hi Keith!” I say happily, sitting down in my usual spot at the breakfast table.

“Hi Jamie,” Keith says with a warm smile. “Sleep well?”

“Like a baby,” I say. “…Sorry I’ve evicted you from your game room.”

“Oh, whatever,” Keith says, giving Charlotte a playful cuddle. “Charlie’s promised me a brand-new shed I can use as a ‘man cave’, and after all, this place really is your home, you know.”

“I know,” I say happily. “Thank you both so much for all this, I… I genuinely don’t know where I’d be without you.”

“Nor me,” Charlotte says quietly.

“I’m not…” I say hesitantly. “…Quite ready to fully move back in, not yet anyway.”

“That’s okay,” Charlotte says, hiding her obvious disappointment. “Like I said, the room’s there for you when you’re ready. Just… Don’t take TOO long, okay?”

“I’m thinking maybe after my operation in April,” I reply with a smile.

“There’s still a part of me that can’t believe you’re actually going through with it,” Charlotte whispers. “I mean, when we first met you were…” Charlotte hesitates, remembering that Keith doesn’t FULLY know the circumstances of when we first met.

“You were… kinda androgynous,” Charlotte bluffs. “Now you’re probably the most feminine out of the six of us.”

“That was the first time I’d ever lived full-time as a woman,” I say, technically telling the truth. “It was the most amazing week of my life up to that point, why would I go back?”

“Yeah, but major surgery?” Charlotte asks. “Really?”

“I’ve had my boobs done,” I say with a laugh. “That wasn’t exactly a minor procedure, I was wappy from the anaesthetic for at least 3 days afterwards!”

“Yeah, but you were up and about,” Charlotte points out. “And you’d HAD boobs before, they just weren’t, you know, inside you. This… Is going to be a lot bigger.”

“This is all stuff I’ve discussed with Dr Phillips, you know,” I say with a smile. “I wouldn’t be going for the surgery if she didn’t think I was ready for it. Bring it on!”

“I think Charlotte just wants to be your nurse whilst you recover,” Keith jokes. “How long did you say you’d be off your feet for?”

“I’ll be in hospital for 5 days,” I say, reciting the information that’s been drilled into me for the past few months. “Off my feet for 2 more weeks, wobbly for about another 2 after that, should be just about back to normal after roughly 6 weeks, though obviously I’ll still be kinda ‘tender’.”

“I’m crossing my legs just thinking about it,” Keith laughs.

“Well, at least you’re growing up,” Charlotte giggles. “In the past, any non-sexual mention of lady parts had you scurrying out the room as fast as your legs could carry you!”

“Well, thanks to Jamie and Stu, I just feel more enlightened about things than I was before,” Keith says.

“Just as long as you don’t ask to actually SEE it, that’s fine!” I joke, causing a mass giggle at the table.

I drive home shortly afterward, still feeling sad about leaving my ‘second home’. I feel a little better when I arrive home and am greeted by the smiling face of my mother.

“Hi Jamie!” Mum says, giving me a quick hug. “Hope Charlotte’s sofa wasn’t too uncomfortable last night!” I grimace a little as I break the news of my ‘other home’ to my mother.

“Actually…” I begin. “I stayed in my old room.”

“Oh,” mum says stoically. “I thought Charlotte’s boyfriend was using that as a den?”

“He was,” I explain. “Charlotte had it cleared out and turned back into my room, the way it used to be, as my Christmas present.”

“I see,” mum continues. “Are you moving back in with Charlotte?”

“Not yet,” I say to my mother’s obvious relief. “Not until after my operation.”

“Good,” mum says. “I mean yes, I’m resigned to the fact that you’re going to move out eventually- you ARE an independent woman, after all- I’d just hoped we’d get some warning first!”

“Don’t worry,” I laugh. “You’re stuck with me for a while yet!” Mum laughs as I head upstairs, stripping off and carefully folding away my dress before pulling on new underwear, followed by a tight, long-sleeved black bodysuit and a short denim skirt.

“Morning Jamie, didn’t hear you come in,” dad says as I crash on the sofa with my iPad. “Everything ready for your big day on Saturday?”

“It’s not going to be THAT big,” I laugh, opening up Facebook.

“It’s a red carpet premiere!” Dad jokes. “My little girl’s going to be the toast of Leicester Square!”

“One, it’s nowhere near Leicester Square, it’s a small cinema in Highbury,” I say exasperatedly, “and two, I’m only going to be one-sixth the toast of… whatever street it’s on.”

“Will there be a red carpet?” Dad asks with a smug grin.

“…Yes,” I sigh.

“Will there be paparazzi?” Dad asks.

“Almost certainly,” I answer.

“Then it’s a big deal!” Dad says proudly. “Good job I don’t work on Sundays, I may have to buy a whole new scrapbook just for this alone!” I sigh and turn back to Facebook, but deep inside, I’m as excited as dad obviously is. For the broadcast of the pilot episode of our reality TV show, Joshua’s hired a small cinema to screen it, ‘world premiere’ style, and invited all the Angels and their families and friends to attend in a gala event, with the aim of raising publicity for the show. Judging by the level of attention the event’s getting on social media, it certainly seems to be working!

I’m thankful of the opportunity to relax on Thursday, as thanks to the premiere, Friday and Saturday are going to be EXTREMELY busy. Joshua doesn’t normally work over the period between Christmas and New Year, but this year he’s making an exception, so on Friday morning, I’m awake at 7:30am, running through my morning routine as fast as possible so I can get to the important matter of picking out my outfit for the day. I’ll be meeting with Joshua and the other Angels for most of the day so I have to be dressed smartly, and as close friends as we are, I can’t let myself be overshadowed by the other girls, nor can I make a conscious effort to overshadow them. To that end, after slipping on a brand-new lacy bra and thong set, repainting my fingernails a glossy black colour and applying a generous layer of make-up, I fasten a waist cincher around myself, tightening it just enough to give me some curves, before attaching sheer black stockings to the cincher’s garters, straightening the seams before pulling on a black satin blouse and a light blue skirt suit. The skirt is short and tight and the jacket is fitted close to my body, emphasising my enhanced curves. I step into a pair of matching stiletto pumps with a 5” heel, put on my most expensive jewellery and perfume, grab my favourite handbag and head downstairs, saying goodbye to my mum and driving off into the city centre.

Unsurprisingly, I’m not the first to arrive- the ever-punctual Hannah and Viks are already present, dressed in their own smart suits- Hannah in a tiny lilac skirt that shows off her endless legs, Viks in a tight black dress that shows off her amazing curves and cleavage. Both, of course, are wearing heels as high as my own- even though the 5’ 9” Hannah hardly needs to!

“Hey Jamie!” Hannah squeaks, greeting me with a quick hug. “Just one day left!”

“I know!” I squeak excitedly. “Sooo… Did you drive yourself here?”

“Drive myself?” Hannah asks. “Moi? In my brand-new shiny red Fiat 500, you mean?” Hannah giggles as she pulls her car keys out of her handbag.

“I’m so proud of her,” Viks says, giving Hannah a quick hug. “Especially as it means I can stop being designated driver for once!”

“Is that not why we both have boyfriends?” Hannah asks with a cheeky grin.

“There are… other reasons,” Viks says, giving a sly wink to the two of us, making the three of us break down in fits of giggles!

“Oh god Jamie, I’m sorry,” Viks suddenly says, “we shouldn’t really be talking about boyfriends, didn’t you say you got with Paul at Christmas time?”

“Who?” I ask with a confident smirk, causing another fit of giggles that only escalate as Charlotte, Mary and Krystie arrive, all dressed in their own smart, sexy skirt suits.

“My angels!” Joshua yells happily as he exits the office, drinking in the sight of the six of us. “My office is too small for such radiant beauty, let’s go down to the studio!” Smirking, we follow our agent down to the studio where he sits us down and starts advising us on the upcoming premiere.

“I know some of you have attended red carpet premieres before,” Joshua says, looking pointedly in mine and Charlotte’s direction. “But this time, the nation’s press will be there specifically to see you, and you alone. The six of you are about to become megastars, and this is effectively your debut, or in some cases, re-debut.”

“What should we wear?” Hannah asks, barely hiding her nerves.

“Your best dresses,” Joshua answers. “Nothing too ostentatious, nothing too sexy, something beautiful and elegant, like the girl who’ll be wearing it!”

“Do we walk up the red carpet with our boyfriends?” Viks asks.

“If you can peel yourself away from him!” Joshua laughs, making Viks blush a little. “Seriously, the press are there to see you. Arrive with your boyfriends, pose for photos by yourself, walk in together.”

“And those of us…” Krystie says hesitantly, exchanging a quick glance with me.

“You get to have all the limelight to yourselves!” Joshua laughs. “But all six of you are sexy, successful models, I know you’ll be fine tomorrow. The real reason I wanted to call you is to tell you the great news!”

“Wh-what great news?” Mary asks nervously- clearly, she hasn’t told Joshua her own ‘great news’.

“The bosses at ITV2 love the pilot!” Joshua booms. “The reaction you’ve been getting online has convinced them that they don’t need to wait, they’ve commissioned a series!”

“Oh my god!” I squeak uncontrollably, a sentiment the other girls also exclaim as we excited exchange hugs.

“It’s just eight parts,” Joshua explains. “To be broadcast later in the year, in between seasons of TOWIE. They’ll be filming you between January and May.”

“…During April?” I ask, my enthusiasm instantly draining.

“There will be no cameras in your hospital,” Joshua says softly. “I made sure the producers understood that your journey will be treated with the utmost respect. They’ll only film your recovery if and only if you give express permission at the time.”

“There’s something else,” Mary says shakily. “I- I’m pregnant.”

“I see,” Joshua says stoically, before beaming his trademark wide smile. “This is wonderful news! Congratulations, to you and to Daniel Carter! When are you due?”

“July,” Mary says. “I- I don’t want the birth filmed…”

“Then it won’t be,” Joshua announces. “Are you and Dan getting married?”

“In February, yeah,” Mary says, once again retrieving her engagement ring from her bra and slipping it on her finger.

“That ring’s spent more time on your tits than it has on your finger!” Krystie jokes, making Mary poke her tongue out at her!

“You’ll be married in Paris,” Joshua states firmly. “I’ll pay for everything.”

“I’ll be married in Belfast,” Mary cheekily retorts, making Joshua laugh at her stubbornness. “At my local church, Dan’s already agreed to this. And no, I haven’t asked him yet if he’d consent to the wedding being filmed.”

“Would you consent?” Joshua asks.

“Happiest day of my life being broadcast to millions?” Mary laughs. “What girl WOULND’T want that?” Joshua laughs loudly and pulls Mary out of her seat, giving her a long, friendly hug.

“I’ll need to get in touch with the producers,” Joshua says. “Explain to them that they’ll need to change some of their plans- unless any of you have any other surprises I need to know about?” Smiling, the five of us all shake our heads.

“Good,” Joshua says with a smile. “Even if you marry in Belfast, you’re still going to Paris! You say you’re marrying in February- the 15th, right?”

“Saturday after Valentine’s Day, yep,” Mary grins.

“You’ll spend Valentine’s Day in Paris,” Joshua commands. “All of you will, my treat.” Needless to say, everyone in the room is excited by the prospect- even myself and Krystie!

“It will be recorded, I take it?” Charlotte asks.

“As per the contracts you signed, nothing will be recorded without your permission,” Joshua says. “But you all signed up to be TV stars. You can’t do that if you’re not on TV now, can you? One other thing I want to discuss,” Joshua continues, sitting down, “is any potential future series. The first series will focus exclusively on the six of you. For future series, I want to explore expanding your group. There are many models already signed to me and thousands more across the UK who will want to be an Angel. On a purely selfish note, I’m loving all the attention old Joshua’s been getting!”

“The last girl you recommended we hang out with was definitely a good call!” Krystie jokes, giving Hannah a quick hug.

“We’ve… Actually kinda been talking about this already,” I say nervously.

“Oh?” Joshua asks. “Got any good recommendations for me then?”

“Yeah, Rebecca Milton,” Krystie says. “She’s in my advanced adult class, she’s also a singer- studies music at uni- she’d be a damned good model too.”

“That dance class of yours is putting my scouts out of a job!” Joshua laughs, sitting down next to Krystie. “Show me a few photos.”

“I’ve given her your card at least twice,” Krystie explains, showing Joshua pictures of Rebecca on her smartphone. “She’s my ex’s sister, 18, 19 in a few months. A bit of a fan but otherwise cool.”

“I liked her,” Hannah interjects to general agreement.

“Give her another one of my cards,” Joshua says happily. “Obviously I can’t tell you who to be friends with, but now that you’re public property, you’ll need to be careful precisely who you mix with.”

“We understand,” Charlotte says.

“Don’t feel that I think the six of you aren’t enough,” Joshua says reassuringly. “Like any businessman I want to maximise my profits and protect my interests, especially in case any more of you decide to jump ship to Spencer and Hall!”

“Do you have any recommendations of your own?” Viks asks. “For models, I mean.”

“A couple,” Joshua says. “Once I’ve moved to my new office and hired more clerks, then I’ll expand. There’s one girl in particular I’ve got my eyes on, Dannii Samson. Would make a perfect Angel if she wasn’t only 16.”

“Yep, that’s also the name of one of my students,” Krystie says, making everyone- Joshua included- giggle loudly!

We spend the rest of the morning in Joshua’s building discussing the proper etiquette for the red carpet, keeping an appropriate distance between ourselves and the numerous fans we will inevitably get, and potential future models Joshua’s expressed an interest in. It’s flattering that Joshua- a highly experienced talent manager- values us so much that he’d consult with us before making any hires. After we’re allowed to leave just after 2pm, the six of us- still in our posh suits- find a nearby coffee shop and tuck into a hard-earned lunch.

“Girls,” Viks says. “I have to tell you- I am TERRIFIED about tomorrow.”

“Oh, don’t be!” Hannah says, wrapping a protective arm around her BFF. “You weren’t terrified in front of the cameras, were you?”

“The crowd’s not going to be there to watch you fail,” Charlotte advises. “They’re there to WORSHIP you.”

“I know, I know,” Viks sighs. “It’s just- I dunno, there’s a part of me that’s worried, you know? You’re always hearing about celebrities getting stalkers, anonymous threats… God, I must sound so conceited, talking about stalkers when I’m not even a celebrity yet!”

“The 30 000 fans on your Facebook page would disagree about you not being a celebrity,” I tease. “Just enjoy it while it lasts.”

“’While it lasts’?” Hannah asks me.

“Fame doesn’t last forever,” Charlotte explains. “You have to make the most of all the opportunities you get… But at the same time, you need to make sure your ambition doesn’t get out of hand.” Charlotte shoots a brief, sympathetic smile my way as she says this. I open my mouth to make a comment, but am interrupted by a presence over my shoulder.

“Hi,” the clearly nervous man stammers. “I, um, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but- oh god, this is going to sound silly- are- are you the Angels?”

“Yep!” Hannah says proudly.

“All six of us!” Krystie confirms, much to the man’s obvious delight.

“Oh my god, my girlfriend’s gonna be so jealous,” the man says with a goofy smile. “Can- can I get a photo with you, please?” After looking at each other exasperatedly, all six of us nod, much to the man’s delight, who crouches down in front of our table and takes a quick selfie.

“Thanks!” The man says, clearly genuinely happy about the chance encounter. “Um, good luck with the show tomorrow!”

“Thanks,” Charlotte says, before the whole table burst into a fit of giggles after the man leaves.

“Urgh,” Mary sighs whilst still giggling. “Guess we’re gonna have to get used to that! Well, some of us are, anyway!” Mary points fingers at myself and Charlotte, making us recoil in mock horror.

“I don’t know what you could possibly mean,” I retort over-dramatically.

“Have you noticed how it’s always ‘my girlfriend is a big fan’?” Viks asks. “Like, do you reckon we’re only popular with girls of a certain age?”

“It’s better to have a limited fan base than no fan base at all,” Charlotte says. “Nobody- nobody at all- appeals to all people.”

“You’re probably right,” Hannah concedes with a smile. “Soo… Everyone decided what they’re wearing tomorrow?”

“Of course!” I say eagerly, leading to another mass giggle!

I arrive home just after 3pm, quickly stripping out of my suit and stockings into a comfortable knee-length sweater dress and black tights, crashing on my sofa with my iPad in hand.

“One day to go!” Mum says happily. “Shall I order a filing cabinet for all the fan mail you’ll be getting?”

“Mum!” I say, slightly embarrassed by the fuss both my parents have been making of me. “Besides, all the fan mail nowadays comes by email.”

“I’ll have to get a new printer then,” mum laughs as I roll my eyes and open up Facebook.

Even though Friday is our usual girls night, being ready for tomorrow’s premiere is more important, so I get to bed just before 10pm, though I can barely sleep through excitement- something that’s been a theme of this Christmas so far! I do manage to get some sleep, as I’m woken by my phone’s alarm clock at 8am. I run through my morning routine as fast as possible, only applying a light layer of make-up as the six of us have booked an extended session at the salon today- for obvious reasons! I pull on a fresh bra & thong and a pair of shiny black tights, before selecting a long-sleeved dark blue minidress and matching stiletto heels to wear to the salon. After a very quick, very light breakfast, I say goodbye to my parents and drive off to the salon!

When I arrive, the other five girls are already there waiting for me, eager to start their treatments. After a quick sauna, we’re all given a hot bikini wax, and after recovering from that, light spray tans (a full tan would look a bit out of place in December!) and full facial treatments. Our fingernails are sculpted and polished to perfection, with each of us choosing a different colour polish for our nails (I opt for a deep, cobalt blue for mine). Our hair is then given treatment after treatment to maximise its volume- I have my hair curled to give it additional ‘bounce’ that frames my face excellently. Last, but not least, our faces are made up by expert beauticians, mixing eye shadows and lipsticks to make all six of us the most beautiful we’ve ever been. After pulling my dress, my tights and my shoes back on, I drive Krystie and Charlotte back to Charlotte’s huge home, where we change into our outfits for tonight.

As per Joshua’s instructions, we’re all wearing our best dresses- I’ve selected a very low-cut, backless, halter neck blue-gold gown with a long, flowing skirt and matching stiletto sandals. Charlotte’s opted for a strappy silver patterned dress with a long skirt, and Mary’s gone for a similar style, only strapless and in a blood-red colour to match her lipstick and nails. Viks is wearing a very form-fitting, slinky black dress that shows off her cleavage and corset-enhanced curves to maximum effect, and Krystie is wearing an equally slinky, sparkly purple dress. Hannah, however, has truly stolen the show, wearing a super-short light red strapless dress that shows off every square inch of her enviable cleavage, curves and legs. She’s also wearing by far the highest heels, despite the fact that she’s easily the tallest of us anyway!

“You are going to freeze to death in that!” I tease the tall blonde girl as I take my best gold earrings out of my handbag and push them into my lobes.

“I may be cold tonight,” Hannah laughs, putting in her own earrings, “but I’ll be gorgeous in those photos forever!”

“You could wear a bin liner and you’d be gorgeous,” Viks teases.

“Might have to try that one of these days,” Hannah laughs.

“Just don’t do it on camera!” Charlotte says, making everyone giggle! “Is everyone ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Mary says, taking a deep breath.

“This is so exciting!” Krystie squeaks, bouncing up and down in her heels.

“Just remember,” Charlotte advises. “The eyes of the world are on you tonight. Tonight, we are the six most beautiful women who ever lived. Tomorrow, everyone will want to be our friend. So let’s get out there and own London!”

“Gooooo…” Hannah says excitedly.

“Angels!” We all cheer, grabbing our handbags and heading downstairs to where our limos await us. The six of us are all arriving separately- in proper movie star fashion- in separate limos with our guests. We’ve each been allowed to bring along four guests, and I’m obviously bringing my parents along, and with Krystie’s car full with her parents and brothers, I’ve also invited along Stuart and a guest of his choice. When it comes time to pick him and his guest up, I’m completely unsurprised to see Rebecca sit down opposite me in the limo, looking far more elegant and mature than her 18 years in her long purple evening gown, fancy jewellery and high heels.

“Oh my god,” Rebecca says, fanning herself with her hands, “thank you SO much for this! This is SO amazing!”

“Thank your brother,” I say, giving my favourite transman- who looks very handsome in his tie and evening jacket- a quick hug as he sits down next to his baby sister.

“Don’t worry, she knows she owes me for this,” Stuart says, giving Rebecca a brotherly cuddle.

“Two of our parties in the space of seven days,” I tease at the teenaged girl. “Soon we might have to start calling YOU an Angel!” Rebecca giggles uncontrollably as the limo speeds off into the busy Saturday night.

After my parents have been picked up, and a bottle of expensive champagne has been shared between all five of the limo’s occupants, we arrive at the independent cinema that’s hosting our premiere. As promised, a red carpet has been laid out, and a modest- but still excited- gaggle of fans and paparazzi are eagerly waiting for me to step out of the limo.

“Take a deep breath,” dad advises, holding my arm supportively. “Hold your head up high, and knock ‘em dead.” I grin and elegantly exit the limo, posing with one hand on my hip as the assembled photographers’ cameras take their fill. Sure, I may be cold, sure, the dress may be impractical, and almost uncomfortable, but everybody assembled is falling over themselves just to get a look at me. As dad advised, I’ve knocked ‘em dead. Soon, I’ll be a national celebrity, a bridesmaid to one of my very best friends, a godmother, an honorary auntie, and the proud owner of a vagina. So what if ‘girlfriend’, ‘fiancée’ and ‘wife’ aren’t on that list? Life… Is wonderful.

SIX WEEKS LATER

“Vive La France!” Krystie happily exclaims in my ear, over the noise of the crowded Parisian nightclub.

“This is so cool!” I happily reply as I dance with my friend, the two of us attracting the attention of virtually every boy in the club in our tiny clubbing dresses and extra-high heels- not to mention our voluminous hair and heavy make-up!

“Yeah, who needs BOYS anyway?” Krystie asks.

“I’ll try not to take that personally!” Stuart yells over the noise of the club, handing us our drinks and leading us back to our table in the club’s VIP section.

“To being single!” Krystie toasts.

“Never thought I’d be toasting being single with my ex,” Stuart jokes as we clink our glasses together.

“And on Valentine’s Day too,” I laugh. “Well, day before Valentine’s Day anyway. This’ll be my first Valentine’s single in three years…”

“Yeah, mine too,” Krystie sighs, before a sly grin creeps over her face. “Hey, how about today, for one day only, we say we’re girlfriend and girlfriend? That way, we won’t have to be single on Valentine’s…” I giggle in response.

“I think you’ve had a few too many drinks!” I reply.

“I dunno, you’d make a cute couple!” Stuart laughs.

“Come on, give me a kiss!” Krystie insists, leaning in towards me. I initially recoil, but the alcohol flowing through my veins quickly lowers my resistance.

“Fuck it,” I say with a smile. “There aren’t any cameras around. No one wants to film single people on Valentine’s Day.” Grinning, I lean in and give Krystie a long kiss on the lips, which ends when we both break down in fits of giggles!

“I kissed a girl and I liked it…” I tunelessly sing, much to the delight of my two friends!

“First time you ever kissed a girl?” Krystie asks.

“…I maaaay have snogged Charlotte once in the past,” I tease, making Krystie’s jaw drop.

“Oh my god!” The tall girl squeaks. “Please tell me it was because you lost a bet…”

“Of course,” I laugh. “God, I reckon Stu should be covering his ears right now!”

“I reckon I need to hear more!” Stuart laughs.

“How about ‘me and Charlotte were wearing skin-tight gymnastics leotards when we snogged’, then?” I say.

“God, that’s even making ME hot!” Krystie laughs. I giggle and lean in close to Krystie, playfully giving her another kiss.

“Oh come on,” Stuart complains, “no love for me?” Krystie and exchange a brief glance before leaping out of our chairs and sitting down next to Stuart, peppering his cheeks with kisses and leaving a ridiculous amount of lipstick on his face!

“This’ll do!” Stuart says happily, pulling his phone out and taking a few selfies of me and Krystie fawning over him.

We stay at the club until just after 11:30pm, at which point we stumble back into our vast city centre hotel. Stuart excuses himself quickly- his room is on a different floor to ours- but I follow Krystie back to her room.

“Heyyy,” I say coyly as Krystie opens her door, “I, um, don’t suppose, you know…”

“Are you asking what I think you’re asking?” Krystie asks.

“Oh come on,” I plead. “I haven’t had anyone in my bed for AGES, I don’t want another night alone in these huge beds, especially not tonight!”

“We… Will be just sleeping, right?” Krystie asks.

“Of course!” I reply. “If it makes you feel any better, Charlotte spent most of her time in my bed when she was separated from Keith last year…” Much to my relief, Krystie rolls her eyes and giggles.

“Come on in,” Krystie says- and needless to say, I didn’t need to be invited twice. Much to my surprise, Krystie immediately removes her shoes and dress, climbing under the bed clothes wearing just her G-string.

“Should I avert my eyes?” I ask, warily stripping off my own shoes and dress (though I’m wearing a tiny lace bra in addition to my G-string).

“Oh please,” Krystie snorts dismissively. “As if the whole world hasn’t already seen my tits.”

“Yeah…” I say carefully. “Sorry about that, I can’t help but feel responsible.”

“Oh don’t,” Krystie says softly, sitting up in bed and giving me a full view of her body. “It was my mistake, if I hadn’t done that topless shoot I wouldn’t have been fired by my agent, I wouldn’t have signed with Joshua, and I probably wouldn’t be an Angel now!”

“Those photos wouldn’t be as widely circulated as they are now,” I say quietly.

“Oh whatever,” Krystie laughs. “I’m hardly the first reality TV star to have a topless shoot in her past, Maria Fowler, Sam Faiers, they’ve both gone frontal, didn’t hurt their careers.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” I muse, climbing under the sheets next to Krystie.

“And Kate Moss went FULL frontal for Playboy,” Krystie laughs. “That’s probably braver than I’d be!”

“I dunno,” I tease. “I’m going to be paying a LOT of money for my vagina, I’d kinda like to show it off!”

“Says the woman who paid a lot of money for her tits yet is still wearing her bra in bed!” Krystie teases. I sigh and roll my eyes, before unclipping my bra and hurling it to the floor.

“Happy now?” I say, sitting upright and giving Krystie a full view of my body.

“For now,” Krystie says smugly, switching off her light. “Sweet dreams, Jamie.”

“You too, Krys,” I reply, settling my head down on my pillow.

“Oh, they will be!” Krystie teases.

We’re both asleep very quickly, which is a good thing as our alarms on our phones wake us up the following morning at 8am. Somehow, in the night, I’ve managed to wrap my arms around Krystie’s slender body, resulting in some awkwardness as I try to extricate myself. After pulling my dress and shoes back on, I excuse myself and head back to my room, where I quickly run through my morning routine and change into a cute pink short-sleeved minidress, translucent black tights and pink stilettos. After throwing on a sky blue bolero jacket (Paris in February isn’t very warm!) I grab my already-packed overnight case and head downstairs, where most of my ‘gang’ is already waiting for me- and it’s a ‘gang’ that’s significantly grown over the past few weeks.

Our reality show’s premiere was a huge hit, as predicted. It even received some positive reviews from the critics, who noted that it was a breath of fresh air to have ‘characters’ in these shows who were genuine and likeable. Sure, the press tried to dig up some dirt on us- Krystie’s topless shoots, Mary’s pregnancy and Charlotte’s earlier infidelity were all dragged up- but Joshua managed any scandal like the experienced professional he is, gently reminding everyone that people aren’t perfect, and that everyone is entitled to make mistakes and learn from them. The ‘breakout character’, though, has been Hannah- and by miles. The tall blonde stunner- as the press are so fond of describing her- has become the face of so many brands that it’s a wonder she has any time for holidays and parties like the one we’re on now. Though as she is the only full-time model out of the six of us, it does make sense in a way. And it’s not like the rest of us aren’t inundated with offers of work! Despite my increased workload, I’ve managed to catch up with my studies, and Viks and Mary are both keeping up with their studies (as Mary’s baby is due in July, it shouldn’t impact on her uni too greatly).

Needless to say, there are camera people waiting for us in the hotel reception- so everybody who’ll be on camera is of course looking their best (myself included!). Everything that’s taking place this weekend is being recorded for a future episode of ‘Angels’- the romantic night in Paris (for those of us who have boyfriends, anyway), the sightseeing we’re doing this morning, and last but not least, Mary’s wedding tomorrow in Belfast!

Obviously, it being Valentine’s Day, it not just the Angels who are in Paris, but partners too- Keith, Dan, Jonathan and Martin (Charlotte, Mary, Viks & Hannah’s partners respectively), as well as Stuart, Stuart’s sister and Krystie’s brother who are now an item, Joshua and his wife, even Joshua’s niece and her boyfriend have tagged along despite them being only seventeen! Joshua’s clearly lining up Adeola (his niece) and Rebecca (Stuart’s sister) as future ‘Angels’, given that he signed them both to contracts last month. In additional to being beautiful young women, they both have AMAZING singing voices, so recording contracts are no doubt in the pipeline for both of them. It wouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone if they also ended up making cameos in this particular episode…

“Hey Jay!” Charlotte enthuses, giving me a big hug as I step into the hotel reception.

“Hey Charlie!” I say, happily returning my BFF’s hug. “How was the big date?”

“Oh you know,” Charlotte says coyly.

“I USED to know,” I sigh, making Charlotte giggle and give me another hug.

“Here comes the bride!” Hannah yells excitedly as Mary steps out of the elevator to mass cheering.

“Oh, you guys,” Mary sighs embarrassedly. “Can we save all the fuss and attention for my actual wedding day, please?”

“Absolutely not!” Charlotte insists, rubbing Mary’s slightly-expanded belly in what has become an Angel ‘ritual’.

“Maybe if you told us the gender…” I say cheekily as I give Mary’s belly a quick rub.

“Give me a break, I won't find out myself for another month!” Mary laughs.

“Hands off my goddaughter!” Krystie jokes, stepping out of the elevator and immediately giving Mary’s belly a rub.

“Ah, so we're sure it's a girl, then?” Hannah asks as she and Viks give Mary’s belly a rub each.

“If it wasn’t before, it will be with all the girl rays you’re shooting into it!” Riley, Krystie’s brother, jokes. Needless to say, the six of us almost double over with laughter!

“Oh, I’m sorry Riley, I shouldn’t laugh,” I say, regaining my composure.

“No trust me, you SHOULD laugh,” Krystie teases.

“Girl rays…” Viks giggles. “Makes us sound like some sort of superhero group!”

“SuperheroINE group,” Hannah corrects her BFF. “The girlvengers!”

“Nah, I still prefer the Angels,” I say between giggles. “Still though, as a superpower, it’s pretty cool. Girl rays!” I hold up my hand as if I’m firing my ‘girl rays’ at Riley, who sighs embarrassedly in response.

“Forget I said anything,” Riley mumbles.

“No way!” Krystie jokes.

“Aww, cheer up babe,” Rebecca jokes, slipping her hand into Riley’s back pocket. “Or I’ll shoot girl rays into your ass!” Riley huffs in protest as the entire hotel reception once again descends into fits of laughter.

The sightseeing tour of Paris was amazing, despite the cameras following our every move. Naturally, with it being the most romantic day of the year, and the most romantic city in the world, the couples soon split off and did their own thing, leaving myself, Krystie and Stuart hanging out by ourselves yet again- though this time we did at least have a camera following us, unlike last night, when if you weren’t in a couple, it was like you were no one.

“Seriously, if you hit me with your ‘girl rays’, I’ll never forgive either of you,” Stuart jokes as we stroll along the Champs Elysees.

“As if we would,” I gasp with mock, horror, before holding my hand up behind Stuart’s head and mouthing ‘girl rays’ at Krystie, who nearly doubles over with laughter.

“I’m immune to girl rays anyway,” Stuart jokes. “Is it your first time being a bridesmaid?”

“Yep,” I say. “Outside of a studio, anyway.”

“You got so many bridal shoots from Joshua!” Krystie teases. “You’ve worn more wedding dresses than Katie Price!” I blush a little as I’m reminded of the way I constantly pestered my agent for bridal photoshoots- which were (and still are) by far my favourite kind.

“How about you, Krys?” I tease. “First time being maid of honour?”

“Maid of honour yes, bridesmaid no,” Krystie replies. “My aunt got married when I was 13, it was when I spent a whole day trying on bridesmaid dresses that I knew I wanted to be a model when I grew up. Soo… How about you, Stu?”

“Yeah,” I tease. “Are you going to be the first person ever to be a bridesmaid AND a groomsman in one lifetime?”

“I assure you I wouldn’t be the first, far from it,” Stuart says confidently. “And… To answer your question, yes, once, when I was nine, it was probably the most embarrassing and frustrating experience of my life. I’m not exactly what you’d call a wedding ‘fan’.”

“Oh come on,” I say. “Even guys get the opportunity to dress up and look sexy, how can you not love that?”

“It’s a hot, heavy, sweaty tuxedo,” Stuart moans. “Thank god the wedding’s February in Ireland rather than July in Southern Spain, I’d probably have melted!” Krystie and I both giggle at Stuart’s extended moan.

“Obviously we know better than to ask for pictures of you in your undoubtedly cute bridesmaid’s dress,” Krystie says.

“Good,” Stuart interrupts.

“…But,” Krystie continues, “If you were nine… Your sister would have been four, right?”

“Yep, sounds right,” Stuart says, a sly grin creeping across his face. “And I probably could find a few pictures of her in her flower girl dress, provided there was something in it for me, of course…” Krystie giggles and leans in close to Stuart, whispering something in his ear that makes him laugh uncontrollably.

“Deal!” Stuart says, giving the other girl a quick squeeze as I lag behind the two of them, my hands in my pockets. I know I shouldn’t feel lonely, or jealous- I had my chance with Stuart, after all- but I AM the one who introduced him to the group, and yet I’m the one who feels most left out.

Our sightseeing tour only lasts a few hours before a luxury coach comes and whisks us all away to Charles De Gaulle Airport, where we sit in the very posh private departure lounge, waiting for our plane.

“…I’ll try not to take it personally that you’ve chosen an airline that’s known for hiring transsexual flight attendants,” I joke, sitting next to Joshua and his wife.

“Jamie,” Joshua replies, “I booked the plane because we all deserve to fly in the lap of luxury, regardless of what the stewardesses have in THEIR laps!” I roll my eyes and smile- in addition to transsexual stewardesses, Soixante-Trois airlines ARE also known for extremely high levels of comfort.

“Even if it means we can only fly as far as Dublin and have to get yet ANOTHER coach to Belfast?” I ask cheekily.

“It’s a luxury coach!” Joshua jokes, making me giggle yet again.

For the flight to Dublin, Joshua had the idea of sitting all the couples together, so once again I’m left feeling excluded from the ‘festivities’. Fortunately, I have Dan’s best man, Paul (no, not my ex-boyfriend, thank god!), who’s also single, sat next to me for the duration of the flight- even if he isn’t very talkative (Dan mentioned a while ago that he’s uncomfortable talking to women).

“Hi,” I say to the anxious-looking man.

“Hi,” Paul replies. “Umm, it’s Jamie, right?”

“Yeah,” I reply with a smile. “Well, technically it’s Jamie-Lee, but just Jamie’s okay.”

“Okay,” Paul says, “’just Jamie’.” Despite myself, I can’t help but giggle at Paul’s awkward attempts at flirting.

“Have you ever been to Ireland before?” I ask, trying to break the uneasy silence.

“Nah,” Paul replies, triggering another uneasy silence.

“I’m thirsty,” I announce, pushing the button for service and being greeted almost immediately by a very tall girl in a blue uniform.

“How can I help you, miss?” Elsa- the stewardess- asks in a very distinctive German accent.

“A glass of white wine, please.” I say. In truth, I’m not really in the mood for anything alcoholic, not with Mary’s ‘hen night’ later, but I figure some alcohol would help break the awkward silence between myself and Paul. The stewardess returns with seconds with my glass, carefully placing it on my tray table before mincing off in her impractically tight skirt and high-heeled shoes.

“It’s Paul, isn’t it?” I ask, sipping my beverage.

“Yeah, Paul Kennedy,” my travelling companion replies.

“Oh, well, Irish surname at least!” I joke. “My ex’s name is Paul, thank god I’m not sat next to HIM!”

“Heh,” Paul laughs. “Actually, my ‘Kennedy’ comes from Scotland, not Ireland. You- your surname’s ‘Burke’, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but I was born ‘Travis’,” I explain.

“Ah,” Paul says. “I can see why changed it, something-Lee Travis isn’t really a good name for a public figure right now!”

“Yeah,” I laugh half-heartedly.

This awkward conversation continues for another three glasses of wine all the way to Dublin (thankfully, the camera crew were all focussed on Mary & Dan), where I’m able to persuade Krystie to swap seats on the coach- arguing that the maid of honour should be sat with the best man anyway!

“God, that flight sucked,” I complain as I park myself in the seat next to Stuart.

“Yeah, I can kinda smell it on your breath,” Stuart laughs, handing me a mint. “Paul’s not what you’d call the most charismatic man in the world.”

“Doubt I helped much,” I sigh, checking the bus to make sure we’re not within earshot of a camera. “Can I tell you a secret? Part of me is DREADING the wedding.” I giggle a little at my unintended rhyme. “Being the only single girl there…”

“What, has Krystie suddenly ceased to exist?” Stuart laughs. “We’re not seeing each other again if that's what you're thinking, far from it!”

“But- in Paris?” I ask, making Stuart chuckle.

“YOU’RE the one who shared a bed with her, remember?” Stuart says. “We’re just friends, friends with very occasional benefits.”

“I don’t want to come across as bitchy,” I say quietly, “but there’s a part of me that’s glad.”

“What, you want me all to yourself, or her all to yourself?” Stuart teases. I giggle and give my favourite transman a quick cuddle.

“You’re sexier,” I joke. “Give me pecs over tits any day of the week!”

“Attached to someone else’s body, right?” Stuart jokes, making me giggle yet again.

The coach arrives at our posh Belfast hotel just after 8pm, giving us just enough time- once we’ve fought through the scrum of local reporters desperate to get a photo of the hometown girl- to check into our rooms and, in the case of myself and the other Angels, change into our tiny clubbing dresses and huge clubbing stilettos and hit the town. It may be Valentine’s Day, but it’s still Friday night, and even though for obvious reasons she can’t drink, Mary’s getting a hen night whether she likes it or not! Needless to say, when we arrive at our first club, Mary’s mere presence sees us (and, of course, a cameraman) escorted straight to the VIP area with a round of drinks on the house!

“Wow, you really are the Princess of Belfast!” Charlotte laughs.

“God knows that’s not saying much,” Mary laughs as she sits down, looking slightly uncomfortable with her little black dress and sparkly ‘bride to be’ sash covering her slight bump.

“No, you should be proud!” Hannah exclaims. “Here it’s not ‘The Angels’, it’s ‘Mary’s Angels’! It’s so cool!”

“It’s so embarrassing!” Mary giggles.

“It’s gonna make it hard for you to be a teacher, all this attention you’re getting…” I tease, sipping my lethally strong cocktail.

“I know, I know,” Mary sighs. “God knows I’m DREADING my first placement. But… It is always something I’ve wanted to do.”

“Take it from one teacher to another,” Krystie says. “You’ll be AMAZING at it! But, before you become a teacher, you’ll become a mummy, and before you become a mummy, you become… A Bride!” Krystie yells and hurls a flurry of confetti over Mary, making the bride-to-be squeal with shock. Krystie then hands packets of confetti to the rest of us, which we eagerly hurl over Mary!

Ninety minutes and several drinks later, I’m touching up my make-up in the club’s posh restroom, listening to Krystie gush over the upcoming wedding.

“God above,” Mary complains as she rearranges her dress, “I’m going to be picking confetti out of my cleavage for YEARS!”

“You haven’t seen how much I’ve got lined up for tomorrow!” Krystie squeaks. “This is so exciting! You know, this is my first ever hen night?”

“Me too, obviously,” I interject.

“NOT my first one,” Mary says. “Thank god I have an older sister, it’d have sucked if my first-ever hen night was my own!”

“Why would it have sucked?” I ask as I straighten my fishnets. “You’re getting married to a guy you’re madly in love with, right?”

“Well… Yes, but…” Mary sighs.

“But what?” I say. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet?”

“Mary… Is everything okay?” Krystie asks, genuine concern on her face.

“It’s just… Everything’s going too fast,” Mary moans. “I mean, I’m only 23! I’m not meant to be a wife OR a mum yet. I was meant to have another two years modelling, then get my degree, go into teaching, now I’m a national bloody celebrity and having my wedding photographed by a national magazine!”

“You do know there are people who would kill to be able to say that?” I ask, making Mary sigh and nod.

“Yes, I know,” Mary replies. “Two years ago I’d probably have been one of those people! But now… I miss the days when the four of us could go out WITHOUT a camera crew following our every move. And I don’t want my baby growing up in the public eye, that’s for damn sure.”

“Aww, you’re so maternal!” Krystie says, giving her BFF a gentle hug and patting her belly. “Whether you’re 23 or 33, you’re going to be an AMAZING mummy, and I know Dan will be a perfect daddy. As for perfect hubby… You’re probably in a better position to say than I am!” Mary giggles and wipes a stray tear from her eye.

“You’re right, you both are,” Mary says. “And I’ve been with Dan for two years, I already live with him... It’s not like I’m jumping into making a commitment!”

“That’s very true,” I say with a smile. “You know, since Charlotte & Keith’s problems last year, that’s the longest current relationship out of the six of us?”

“And that’s the way it’s going to stay,” Mary beams, pulling her sash back on and confidently leading us back out to Charlotte, Hannah and Viks on the dancefloor.

We eventually arrive back at the hotel just after midnight, all of us (except Mary) considerably the worse for wear. Fortunately, the camera crew managed to miss me throwing up all over the pavement! It goes without saying that when my alarm goes off at 7am on the wedding day, it feels like a jackhammer’s pounding away at my skull.

“Jamie!” Charlotte yells, banging on my door and making my hangover infinitely worse. “Come on! Time to be a bridesmaid!” What else is new…? I self-pityingly think to myself as I slide out of bed and quickly freshen myself up, pulling on a skirt and a very casual hoodie. There’s no need to dress up any more- not when I have a very special outfit waiting for me!

After a very quick (but very needed) cup of coffee, the six of us congregate in Mary’s vast suite, where a team of beauticians is ready and waiting to turn us from hungover young women into beautiful- but obviously, not TOO beautiful- bridesmaids. Our lingerie is first- a strapless bra, thong and suspender belt, all made from expensive lilac satin. Creamy silk stockings cover our legs and feel AMAZING as they brush against each other with every step. After a liberal layer of fake tan, our faces are made up immaculately, our nails are coated and recoated with glossy red polish, and our hair is tied into sophisticated updos. The five of us are all wearing matching jewellery- simple gold chains on our wrists and hoops in our ears, and dark purple chokers around our necks. Our shoes are next- high heeled purple pumps for myself, Charlotte and Viks, lower heels for the much taller Krystie and Hannah. Last, but not least, come the dresses- gorgeous strapless satin gowns in a deep purple with long, straight skirts that come down almost to floor level. The dresses, of course, fit like a glove, and have a corset-style back to keep them firmly in place throughout the day. After the five of us grab our bouquets, the door to Mary’s bathroom opens and she steps out, making our jaws drop at her radiant beauty.

Her face, hair and nails are as immaculate as the five of us, and her jewellery is beautiful- the highlight being a white gold diamond necklace- but her dress is simply STUNNING. I’ve worn countless wedding dresses in my time as a model, but none come even close to this magnificent gown. It’s strapless- like ours- but in a pure, brilliant white, with tiny jewels sewn into the many layers of the voluminous skirt. The bodice is sculpted to just disguise Mary’s bump enough that you’d wouldn’t see it unless you knew what you were looking for, and her face is covered by a translucent white bejewelled veil. She’s obviously wearing SERIOUSLY high heels as well- it’s a bit jarring to see the 5’ 3” girl look nearly the same height as the 5’ 9” Hannah!

“Here comes the bride!” Krystie excitedly squeaks. “Are you ready, the future Mrs. Carter?” Mary casts a knowing glance in both mine and Krystie’s direction, and beams a wide, happy smile.

“I’m ready,” Mary whispers. “Nervous as hell, but ready!”

“Where is she?” Booms a voice from the doorway- and judging by its deep baritone and unashamedly thick Belfast accent, it can only belong to one man.

“I’m right here, dad!” Mary says to the middle-aged man, who despite his tough image, almost breaks down in tears at the sight of his daughter, the bride.

“I can’t believe my baby girl is actually getting married,” Mr. Logan says, taking Mary’s small hands in his own. “You are truly the most beautiful woman in the world, and Daniel doesn’t know how lucky he is. Who’s the maid of honour?”

“Right here!” Krystie says excitedly.

“Our car’s waiting for us,” Mary’s dad says, holding out his arm and leading Mary out into the hotel lobby, with Krystie following immediately behind.

“She looks so beautiful,” I sniffle.

“She always does,” Viks says, her voice betraying her own emotion.

“Hard to believe that this is it,” Charlotte sniffles. “The end of an era. I mean okay, she’ll still be an Angel, and she always will be…”

“But it won’t be the same,” I finish my BFF’s sentence.

“Then we’ll just have to make 'it' better!” Hannah exclaims. “Come on girls, we’ve got bridesmaiding to do!” With wide, happy grins, we pile into our own limo, which whisks us off to the church.

There wasn’t a single point during the ceremony where at least one of the Angels- myself included- WASN’T crying. Dan looked so handsome and sophisticated in his tuxedo, and Mary’s incredible beauty drew every gaze in the church toward her.

“…I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the priest says, bringing tears to the eyes of almost everyone present. “You may kiss the bride.” To loud cheers, Dan lifts Mary’s veil and plants a long, loving kiss on her waiting mouth.

After signing the register- which Mary signs as ‘Mary Carter’ for the very first time- everyone congregates outside for the photographs- which seem to take forever- and the all-important throwing of the bouquet! Standing between the statuesque Krystie and Hannah, I thought I stood no chance at all of catching the bouquet, and I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t make too obvious an effort to get it, but obviously, as it flew toward the assembled women, I found myself jumping high to try to grab it. Imagine my surprise, then, when the bouquet flew straight into Charlotte’s outstretched hand! As down as I felt after that, you can only imagine how far my heart sank when Dan threw Mary’s garter at the assembled men and hit Keith square in the chest.

After a full day on my feet in really uncomfortable shoes- which includes the obligatory dance at the reception (Stuart stepped in as my dance partner, despite the fact that I towered over him in my heels)- I’m grateful for the opportunity to finally sit down as the dancefloor starts to fill with all the wedding guests.

“One more?” Stuart asks cheekily, holding out his hand before sitting down next to me when my withering gaze answers his question.

“Can’t say I blame you,” Stuart says. “Hell, MY feet hurt, I can’t imagine how yours feel.”

“Never mind imagine, you can’t even REMEMBER?” I ask, earning a withering gaze of my own from my favourite transman.

“Never anything like those monstrosities,” Stuart answers, pointing at my ostentatious stilettos. “Though no doubt there were plenty of people in that church who thought we should’ve swapped outfits…”

“Tell me about it,” I sigh. “Had to keep my eyes on Mary throughout the whole ceremony so I didn’t get distracted by all the judgemental eyes.”

“And of course, the ironic thing is that you don’t look even remotely masculine,” Stuart says, before chuckling. “Wonder how many people accidentally shot judgemental stares at Charlotte thinking she was you?” I can’t help but snigger at the thought of the super-sexy and ultra-feminine Charlotte- who’s still dancing with Keith, despite her shoes being as uncomfortable as mine- being mistaken for a transsexual.

“I’m not going to be the one to tell her that,” I say. “I still can’t believe Mary’s actually married…”

“She won’t be the last of you to get hitched,” Stuart says. “Welcome to the wonderful world of growing up. And you know, it wouldn’t have killed you to tell me that I don’t look even remotely feminine…” I giggle and blush at my ‘faux pas’.

“Sorry, you ultra-macho, buff and sexy stud muffin!” I say, making Stuart chuckle.

“A bit OTT, but I’ll take it,” Stuart says. I sigh happily and tiredly rest my head on Stuart’s shoulder, catching him a little by surprise. After a short while, though, Stuart happily rests his head against mine and wraps an arm around my slender waist. Stuart’s not wrong- aside from smaller than usual hands and his bone structure (which is easily disguisable under male clothing), there’s no way you would be able to tell that Stuart was born female. Even his smell is unmistakably male- for all the good AND bad that brings. As he rests his hands on my waist I feel my heart rate increasing, much to my surprise. Yes, I find Stuart attractive, and we did (very briefly) date, but these feelings are new- and scary and exciting in equal measure.

The reception continues until well past midnight, at which point I slink off back to my hotel room. Fortunately, I haven’t had much to drink, mainly because our elaborate dresses meant we needed to use the bathroom buddy system again, and Charlotte was buried so deep in Keith’s arms I didn’t dare try to prize her out. After carefully folding my dress away and stepping out of my expensive lingerie, I climb under my bedsheets, quickly falling asleep.

Unusually for a Sunday, I’m awake before my alarm goes off, and after my morning routine (including a moderate layer of make-up), I dress semi-casually in a tight black miniskirt, black tights and a tight dark green jumper. I eschew yesterday’s (almost literal) killer heels in favour of comfortable ankle booties with a 3” heel, but I make a point of wearing the special jewellery all the bridesmaids wore yesterday. After checking the clock to find that it isn’t even 9am yet, a devilish grin creeps over my face as I head to Krystie’s bedroom. Mary and Dan are attending her local church with their families, but Krystie- ever the atheist- managed to duck out of that ‘tradition’ and put away a LOT of booze last night.

“Yoo-hoo!” I call, knocking on Krystie’s door, giggling at the sound of muffled moans on the other side.

“Go away Jamie!” Krystie yells.

“Oh come on,” I yell, happy for once to be the one WITHOUT a hangover. “We’ve got ages before our flight, let’s explore Belfast!”

“Let’s not,” Krystie says, opening her door wrapped in just a bed sheet. “REALLY not a convenient time, Jamie!”

“Why? Have you got someone in there?” I tease.

“How did she know?” A familiar-sounding male voice yells from under the bed’s quilt. My jaw drops as the quilt pulls back to reveal a familiar male face.

“Paul?” I ask. “Paul Kennedy?”

“Umm, hi Jamie,” The naked man in Krystie’s bed says shyly.

“Jamie,” Krystie says, “you know I love you, but please, for the love of everything holy, piss off!”

“You go, girl!” I say with a smile as Krystie slams her door in my face. As I walk back to my room, however, my mood plummets as I realise that I was indeed the only Angel to have slept alone last night. The sight of Adeola leaving her hotel room hand-in-hand with her boyfriend only compounds my misery, and when I head down to breakfast and see everyone sitting together in their neat, tidy couples, something snaps inside my head. I reach into my handbag and pull out my phone, pushing a number on my speed dial.

“Jamie?” Stuart asks, clearly having only just woken up. “What time is it?”

“What room are you in?” I ask bluntly.

“Umm… 215,” Stuart replies. “Are you at breakfast?”

“Not yet,” I say. “Want to grab it together?”

“Sure,” Stuart replies. “Just give me a second to get dressed.” Not a chance… I think to myself. After heading back to my room and adding more make-up to my face, I head to Stuart’s room, ‘accidentally’ bumping into him as he leaves it.

“Hi Jamie,” Stuart says with a genuine, warm smile on his face. “You’re looking great today!”

“Thanks,” I say, giggling flirtatiously. “You’re looking hot too!”

“I’m wearing jeans and a sweatshirt,” Stuart retorts. “The only way I’d be ‘hot’ is if they cranked up the thermostat.” I giggle a little more as we head to the restaurant.

“Jamie…” Stuart sighs, stopping in his tracks. “Something’s different with you, and I think I know what it is. It’s Krystie & Paul, right?” I sigh and look sadly at the handsome young man.

“Is it that obvious?” I pout.

“It’s never fun being the only single person at a wedding,” Stuart says.

“That’s the whole point,” I say, linking my fingers with Stuart. “We don’t HAVE to be…”

“Jamie,” Stuart sighs. “You know how much I like you, but-“

“Is it about me being pre-op?” I ask, to which Stuart sadly shakes his head.

“I’m not THAT much of a hypocrite,” Stuart chuckles. “It’s just… I love you too much as a friend, I’m worried that sex would just make it awkward, Especially considering all the additional ‘help’ we in particular would need…” I laugh at Stuart’s risqué joke and sigh- he is, of course, right.

“I love you as a friend too,” I say. “Sometimes I can tell you things that I can’t even tell Charlotte… On that note, can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course,” Stuart replies, keeping his fingers linked with mine.

“When I went to see Keith, after he and Charlotte separated… I nearly ended up having sex with him,” I confess, making Stuart’s eyes wide and his jaw drop.

“Seriously?” Stuart asks.

“Seriously,” I say, nodding. “It got as far as a lot of kissing, both of us used our hands… But that’s it.”

“Who called it off?” Stuart asks.

“I did,” I answer truthfully. “Obviously, you can NOT tell Charlotte, or let Keith know I told you. He actually said, and I quote, ‘sometimes I think I dated the wrong girl’.”

“Jesus,” Stuart breathes. “You know- and I want you to know that we don’t mean anything by this, we’re just taking the piss out of Keith- sometimes we, by which I mean ‘the boys’, tease Keith about you and Charlotte looking so similar, but he always insists he’s NOT attracted to you in any way.”

“You think he’s just ‘keeping up appearances’?” I ask.

“I’m certain of it,” Stuart sighs. “Poor guy… I don’t think he’s really been happy with Charlotte since they got back together. Can I tell you something, as long as you promise not to tell Charlotte or Keith?”

“Sure,” I reply.

“The engagement ring that Dan gave to Mary… He bought it from Keith,” Stuart says, making my jaw drop and my whole body nearly spasm. “He was going to propose to Charlotte at some point last year, probably at Christmas, but obviously, that didn’t happen. Now… I doubt he ever will.”

“I had no idea,” I breathe.

“You saw just how heartbroken he was,” Stuart says, unlinking his fingers from mine but still holding hands with me. “He worshipped the ground Charlotte walked on- you know that better than anyone. When she cheated on him with that footballer, I think a part of him got irreparably damaged.”

“Poor guy,” I mumble.

“Anyway, I’m getting hungry,” Stuart says, lightening the mood. “I’m guessing you don’t want to sit alone at breakfast?”

“You guess right,” I say with a smile.

“Good,” Stuart says, tightening his grip on my hand and leading me to the restaurant.

After breakfast, we all head to George Best Airport, where- with tears in our eyes- we wave Mary & Dan off as they fly away on honeymoon. Joshua’s shelled out a lot of money to send them to Dubai for a week, though they will of course have a camera crew accompanying them! Before too long, the rest of us- weary from the weekend’s events- are on a plane back to London. I’d originally been due to sit next to Paul again, but fortunately I was able to swap again so I was sat next to Stuart. Unsurprisingly, Krystie didn’t need much persuasion to switch seats!

“Home at last,” I joke as I stretch out next to Stuart.

“You sound almost glad!” Stuart jokes. “Though if you’re away as much as you are for work, I suppose sleeping in your own bed can seem like a novelty at times.”

“Yeah, my own bed’s pretty cool,” I say with a smile. “And even though I know it would be ‘awkward’, the offer to share it is still on the table…”

“I’ll… Get back to you on that,” Stuart laughs.

“But that’s not a firm ‘no’?” I ask expectantly.

“I’m being offered sex from one of the most beautiful girls in the world, of course it’s not going to be a firm ‘no’!” Stuart says. “Yes, I find you sexy as hell, all you Angels are, and yes, if it were just the act of sex, I would have sex with you in a heartbeat, but you and I know we wouldn’t be able to keep it as just ‘that’.”

“I know, I know,” I sigh. “I just- I have needs, you know?”

“Oh believe me, I know,” Stuart laughs. “Dunno if Beverly told you what it’s like for FTMs, but when the testosterone hits us, it hits us HARD. Before I started transitioning I was basically asexual, by the time I started uni 2 years later I was drooling over anything in a skirt.”

“So basically, you became a man?” I ask, prompting a chuckle from Stuart.

“Man and proud,” I’m reminded.

“Sounds like we both have needs,” I muse.

“If you’re suggesting a ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement…” Stuart says. “…I’ll give it some serious thought.” Stuart gives my nylon-covered thigh a playful squeeze, much to my delight!

It’s almost 5:30pm when I finally stagger through my front door, suitcases in hand, where I kick off my booties and collapse dramatically on the sofa.

“…So you’re just going to leave your cases there, then?” Dad asks sarcastically.

“You expect me to move them with these nails?” I retort, showing my father my expensive manicure.

“Ooh, are these your wedding nails?” Mum coos over my beautified fingers.

“Yeah, well the wedding’s over now,” dad chuckles. “And our living room isn’t a storage closet!”

“Mark!” Mum playfully chastises. “Give the poor girl a break, she’s only just come through the door!”

“’Poor’ girl?” Dad asks, barely able to keep a straight face. “’Poor’?”

“I’ll move them after dinner,” I say, laughing at my parents’ playful teasing.

Sure enough, after dinner I spend virtually the whole evening packing away my clothes, taking special care when hanging up my bridesmaid’s dress next to all the other beautiful costumes I’ve worn over the years. I just have enough time before going to bed to grab my trusty iPad and start a new Facebook conversation with the girls- though it should go without saying that out of all the girls, Mary wasn’t online!

After an evening of non-stop gossip about Mary, the wedding and Krystie’s tryst with Paul- which has apparently evolved into a fledgling relationship- I climb into bed, exhausted but exhilarated from the weekend’s events. I try to focus on the positives in my life- I may not have a boy in bed next to me, but I have countless friends who are only a Facebook message away at any time.

My alarm wakes me the following morning at 8am- it may be the day after the biggest event of the year so far, but it’s still a Monday, so there’ll still be a dance lesson this morning! After running through my morning routine, pulling on a fresh thong and applying a light layer of make-up, I giggle loudly as I rummage through my dancewear drawer for something ‘appropriate’ to wear. Normally, Krystie insists on a plain black leotard and pink tights in her non-beginner classes, but on certain days throughout the year, she relaxes the dress code for our students- including us Angels! Today is one of those days, and the theme is ‘Valentine’s’, so I roll a pair of opaque white tights up my soft, hairless legs, and stretch a pink tank leotard- that shows off a decent amount of my chest and back- over my slender body. After scraping my hair back into a tight ponytail, I pull a black denim skirt and tight grey jumper on over my dancewear, before slipping my feet into a pair of cute flats, grabbing my handbag, dance bag and keys and heading off to the studio!

After picking up Charlotte- whose snow white legs tell me she’s had the same idea as me regarding our dancewear- we arrive at the class to find Viks’s car there bright and early, as always, but when we step into the reception, she’s the only other girl there.

“Where’s Hannah?” I ask the dark-haired girl, who simply shrugs in response.

“I dunno,” Viks replies. “I got a text from her this morning saying she had a last-minute appointment and couldn’t make it.”

“It’s not like her to miss dance practice,” Charlotte muses. “ESPECIALLY as it’s dress rehearsal today.”

“AND she wasn’t herself on the flight home yesterday,” Viks mutters. “She barely said a word the whole way home…”

“Ooh, I would NOT want to be her if she messes up on Thursday…” I laugh, earning a stern stare from my BFF.

“Keith’s birthday will go perfectly, as it ALWAYS has,” Charlotte insists, sticking her tongue out at me and making Viks giggle.

“It’s just the four of us today, then,” Krystie sighs, leading us into the studio where we strip down to our matching pink leotards. “Hannah’s apparently feeling under the weather.”

“I thought she said she had a last-minute appointment?” I whisper to Viks.

“That’s what she said…” Viks replies with obvious concern in her voice.

“Anyway,” Krystie says, clapping her hands. “That just means I get to be the tallest here by miles!” Smiling smugly, Krystie rises en pointe and walks around the three of us.

“Did you really put on your pointes just for that?” I ask.

“Maybe,” Krystie chuckles, remaining en pointe. With a sly grin, I look over at Charlotte, and- despite her initial protests- we lift Viks off the floor so that she’s staring down on Krystie.

“Oh FINE then,” Krystie huffs dramatically, dropping down onto the soles of her feet. “Anyway, regardless of whether there are four, five or all six of us, it’s still the Monday before a show, so it’s dress rehearsal time!” Charlotte, Viks and I all giggle happily as Krystie runs off to the storage cupboard and returns with a rack full of sparkly majorette costumes. Still giggling, Charlotte, Viks and I strip off our leotards and swap our white tights for brand-new fishnet tights before stepping into the costumes themselves. Krystie also take the opportunity to tie my hair into a bun- though I don’t recall seeing the heart shape she ties it into in any stage performances!

The royal blue costume looks like a dress on the outside, but is really a leotard with sparkly fringing acting as a ‘skirt’, a mesh front showing off plenty of cleavage and long mesh sleeves that end in gauntlets that slip over our middle fingers. After Krystie applies our thick stage make-up, we pull on high blue hats and grab our batons. The costume for the performance will also include white knee-high boots with a 3” heel, but Krystie refuses to let us dance in them on her floor.

The rehearsal goes well, though we have to ‘improvise’ when it comes to Hannah’s solo section, and we don’t get much time to practice as both Charlotte and Viks have to head off early for work (Charlotte’s filming a TV spot, whilst Viks is deep in study for the final year of her uni course). After pulling my white tights and my leotard back on, I sit down next to Krystie on one of the seats surrounding the dancefloor.

“Soo…” I tease. “You and Paul, then. How did THAT come about?”

“God, I dunno,” Krystie sighs happily. “It was just when we danced at the reception, something just ‘clicked’. He’s this shy, sensitive boy but he’s got a razor-sharp sense of humour… And he’s PHENOMENAL in bed!”

“’Shy and sensitive’ isn’t really your type,” I remind the tall girl.

“No, but ‘six foot one and really well-endowed’ is!” Krystie giggles. “I dunno, I mean yes, it’s early days, but I’ve got a really, REALLY good feeling about this.”

“Well good,” I say with a genuine smile. “It’s about time someone put that smile back on your face!”

“Oh Jamie,” Krystie says, giving me a quick hug. “You’ll find someone soon, I know you will! There are literally millions of guys out there who would give their right arms to be your boyfriend!”

“I don’t want ‘millions of guys’,” I sigh. “I just want one. THE one.”

“And you WILL find him,” Krystie says.

“I know, I know,” I moan. “Anyway, here I am, dressed in my ballet gear and with my hair in a sort-of bun, and I haven’t actually done any ballet today!” Krystie giggles as I grab my dance bag and make a production out of tying my pointe shoes to my feet. “Any chance I could join in your next class?”

“Given that my next class is at a local primary school, I’d say ‘no’,” Krystie laughs. “The Angels are my only adult class in the daytime, though Joshua’s been trying to get me to give private lessons to some of his other models, most of whom attend my adult classes anyway.”

“Your waiting list is surely long enough you can afford to do that?” I say, dancing a few steps for the delighted Krystie.

“Yeah, I guess,” Krystie sighs. “But I still, you know, want to be a model sometimes. Joshua’s arranged an interview and a shoot for me next week for a magazine, sort of half-ballet, half-street clothes. It’s gonna be SO good to be back in a studio.”

“I know the feeling,” I giggle, sitting down next to Krystie and untying my pointe shoes. “Anyway, I’ll let you get off to your kids!”

“See you tomorrow for practice?” Krystie asks. “God knows it’d be pointless if there were only THREE of us here…”

“Of course,” I say with a smile.

After pulling my skirt, jumper and flats back on, I pull my phone out of my bag and dial Hannah’s number. It’s not like her to skip out on ballet at such short notice, and it’s certainly not like her to lie to at least one of her friends. Much to my relief, her phone answers after 2 rings.

“Hi Jamie!” Hannah says in her usual excited voice.

“Hi Han,” I reply. “We missed you at dance today…”

“Yeah, sorry,” Hannah said with an audible grimace. “My mum wasn’t feeling well, I had to drive her to the doctor.” I roll my eyes at Hannah’s obvious lie, but I make a mental note not to get angry with the girl.

“Hannah…” I say softly. “If- if there’s something wrong, you know you can tell me.”

“Oh god,” Hannah suddenly exclaims. “Jamie- can we meet in person, please?”

“Of course,” I reply, deeply concerned by the near-panic in Hannah’s voice. I try to keep my own emotions in check as I drive to Hannah’s house, wracking my brains trying to figure out what was wrong. Is Hannah pregnant? Is she ill? Have the press unearthed some previously unknown dirt on her?

After I knock on the door, I’m greeted by the statuesque girl wrapping her arms around me in a big hug.

“Jamie, thank god you’ve come,” Hannah says, clearly upset about something.

"It's really no fuss," I reply. "What's wrong? What's happened?" Hannah sighs and leads me into her lounge, where we sit together on her sofa.

"I've... Been made an offer by Spencer & Hall," Hannah says, sounding almost ashamed by what she's saying.

"Hannah..." I say, shocked by the revelation. "That's great news!"

"Is it?" Hannah replies. "I mean yes, six months ago it'd have been phenomenal, but now..."

"...You'd have to leave the Angels," I whisper, suddenly realising why Hannah is so distraught.

"Exactly," Hannah sighs.

"What's Joshua said about this?" I ask.

"He doesn't know yet," Hannah says, causing a lightbulb to switch on in my brain.

"That's very strange," I muse. "When Spencer & Hall offered me representation, they went through Joshua rather than contacting me directly."

"...You think they're trying to poach me?" Hannah asks.

"Maybe," I reply. "Possibly. I dunno, this- we should really tell Joshua about this. Spencer & Hall haven't forbidden you from discussing it with him, have they?"

"It didn't come up," Hannah says.

"Then we're seeing him tomorrow," I say firmly. "Just the two of us. We don't need to trouble the other girls with this news, especially not Mary whilst she's on honeymoon."

"I mean," Hannah sobs, "I know I shouldn't, but it's so much money they're offering me..." I hold Hannah in a tight hug and allow her to cry into my shoulder.

"You have to do what's right for you," I say. "Have you told Viks, or Martin?"

"Not yet," Hannah sighs. "I know what Martin would say. He’s constantly jealous of the amount of time I spend with you and the Angels."

"Which is why whenever we have an Angel party, he's nowhere to be seen?" I ask, making the tall girl giggle.

"He's such a knob at times," Hannah sighs. "But I love him anyway. We're actually planning on moving in together soon."

"That's so cool!" I say happily. "I'm guessing you won't be asking me or Charlotte to do your housewarming party?" Hannah giggles uncontrollably at the thought.

"Maybe not," Hannah laughs. "Thanks for listening, Jamie. Thanks for being there... I'm so glad I've got you in my life. AND the other girls."

"Whether it's Joshua or Spencer & Hall you're signed to, I'll ALWAYS be your friend," I say, giving Hannah yet another hug.

"Thanks," Hannah says with a genuine smile. "And are you telling me I missed non-uniform day at ballet?" Hannah strokes my snow-white thigh, making us both collapse in yet another fit of giggles.

I spend the rest of the day at home, catching up on my uni work and writing my various magazine/website columns, and yet I can't get Hannah out of my head. When Charlotte was signed to Spencer & Hall, and when I had my offer from them, it was just about work and wouldn't have impacted on my social life at all. And yet now, with Hannah, it's different... For better or worse, the Angels are a bona fide brand, and if Hannah leaves the group, our lives, our personal lives may never be the same again...

I chat with the other girls throughout the evening, but as promised, the topic of Hannah's 'offer' never comes up. I eventually get to bed at 10:30pm, but barely sleep through worrying about my friend.

Once again, I'm awake at 8am the following morning- Krystie has a free morning so we've all agreed to get some more practice in ahead of Keith's party, and this means that after my morning routine, I pull on a fresh pair of pink tights and a black short-sleeved leotard over my clean pink thong. After packing my dance bag, I throw a knee-length red sweater dress over my dancewear, slip my feet into a pair of flats, grab my bags and head off toward the dance studio.

Once again- after picking Charlotte up- we see Viks's car parked outside the studio, but once again, when we go inside, Hannah is nowhere to be seen.

"Another 'last-minute appointment'?" Charlotte asks sarcastically.

"God knows," Viks shrugs. "I'm really worried about her, this is SO out of character..."

"You've known her longer than anyone," Charlotte says with genuine concern in her voice. "You don't have an idea as to what's wrong?" I have to bite my tongue to keep myself from spilling the beans about Hannah's offer, but somehow I manage it throughout the rehearsal (which we do today in our uniforms, rather than our full costumes). Once we have our street clothes back on, Charlotte immediately pulls out her phone and dials a number.

"Who are you calling?" Viks asks.

"Hannah," Charlotte replies. "I'm worried about her, really worried. I haven't known her as long as any of you but I like to think I'm a pretty good judge of character, and something's really wrong."

"Maybe," I say, "maybe we should let work out her own problems?"

"Not if she needs our help," Charlotte says. "Even if she doesn't know she needs our help, we've got to offer it. That's what sisters do."

"You're right," I say stoically.

"Damn it, no answer," Charlotte sighs, putting her phone away. "Whatever this is, I wish she'd just tell us..." In the past, Charlotte was never the most altruistic person in the world, but looking at her now, I can tell just how much she loves Hannah, and just how devastated she'd be if anything happened that would result in Hannah no longer being our friend. As I drive Charlotte home I'm almost tempted to let her in on the secret, but I told Hannah I'd keep it between the two of us for now, and that's what I intend to do- even if it puts me in the agonising position of lying to a friend- my BFF, no less- to protect another.

After I arrive home I strip off my dress and my dancewear and change into something more appropriate for a meeting with my boss. I keep my pink thong on, but clip a matching bra around my body, and roll a pair of thin barely black tights up my legs. Rather than wear a pencil skirt, I opt instead for a playful knife-pleat grey skirt, pulling on a matching jacket over a white satin blouse. After making sure my make-up and jewellery are immaculate- and leaving the bun that Krystie so carefully tied in place- I slip my feet into a pair of 4" heeled pointed-toe grey stilettos, grab my handbag and head back to my car.

"Hi Jamie," Hannah says, giving me a quick hug as she slides into the passenger seat of my car in her expensive black suit, which of course includes a miniskirt and high heels of her own that show off her endless legs encased in shiny nude tights. "I hope you don't mind, but Martin said he wanted to come along."

"Sure," I say flatly as the scowling young man sits down in the back seat of my Clio. "I take it she told you, Martin?"

"Yes," Hannah's boyfriend replies coldly. "I don't see that there's anything that needs discussing, it's the same work but a 300% pay rise. It SHOULD be a no-brainer."

"I already make more money than I can spend," Hannah snaps at Martin.

"And why wouldn't you want to make more?" Martin retorts. "You'll make new friends working for Spencer and Hall and be infinitely richer."

"I don't want new fr-" Hannah snaps, before sighing. "Can we please just talk to Joshua first?"

"Fine," Martin huffs, though he's clearly unhappy. When we arrive at Joshua's agency, he's unsurprisingly already in reception waiting to greet us.

"Jamie! Hannah!" Joshua says, giving us both hugs. "Martin Pickering as well! You said this meeting was urgent, so let's get on with it!" Still smiling, Joshua leads the three of us into his vast office, where we sit down on his plush new chairs.

"Let me guess- you and Martin Pickering are expecting a child of your own, right?" Joshua asks.

"Not quite," Hannah replies cautiously.

"'Not quite'?" Joshua asks, his face falling. "Have- have you lost a baby?"

"It's nothing to do with pregnancy," Martin says. "What's happened is-"

"Hannah is speaking," Joshua says, silencing Martin with a wave of his hand.

"Spencer and Hall have contacted me and offered me a contract with them," Hannah explains. Joshua stoically nods- six months ago, he'd have practically leapt over the desk to embrace Hannah, but now, something's clearly different.

"I see," Joshua says. "I had a feeling something like this might happen. Are you planning on accepting?"

"She is," Martin says bluntly, earning himself a truly FOUL stare from Hannah.

"I'm not decided yet," Hannah says. "They've offered me a lot of money, more than any of the Angels are currently making."

"I can see why you'd be tempted," Joshua says calmly. "You are a beautiful and talented model, so do not take what I am about to say as an insult. They want to sign you to damage me."

"I thought as much," Hannah sighs.

"They clearly see myself and the Angels as a threat to them," Joshua says with a satisfied grin on his face. "Hannah, you must do what you think is right for yourself. In losing you, I'd be losing my hardest-working and my most marketable model. Also, I'd have to cut you out of every episode of the Angels so as not to infringe on Spencer & Hall's contract with you."

"That sounds like a huge hassle," Hannah whispers.

"And it would be," Joshua says. "But it's your life, it's your choice. I don't want to force to stay somewhere you don't want to be. Make your decision, and let me know."

"I will," Hannah whispers, clearly on the verge of tears.

Once the three of us are back in my car, Martin wastes no time in making his feelings known.

"He says he's okay with you signing for them, so sign for them," Martin says.

"I've told you, I need time to think it over," Hannah says, clearly irritated by her boyfriend's attitude.

"Well you don't seem to be thinking at all," Martin says snidely.

"There's more at stake here than just money!" Hannah growls. "And besides, there's nothing to say that I wouldn't be making as much money with Joshua in a few years' time anyway."

"But why wait a few years?" Martin asks. "Call Spencer and Hall now! Go on!"

"Do. Not. Order. Me. Around," Hannah says through gritted teeth.

"Look, you're going to sign with them," Martin sighs. "Why wait to reach that conclusion when you can get it over and done with now?"

"You know what?" Hannah snaps. "I HAVE made a decision. But not about Spencer and Hall. Get out."

"What?" Martin asks incredulously.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF THIS CAR!" Hannah screeches at her boyfriend.

"No!" Martin says, laughing at Hannah's rage.

"Get out," I interject.

"What, are you planning on making me?" Martin asks, the same smug grin still on his face.

"It's my car," I say, anger seeping into my voice. "I don't want you in it any more. If you remain in it, I'm pretty sure that's called trespassing." Wordlessly, Martin stares angrily at me in the rear-view mirror and steps out of the car, allowing me to speed away.

"Hannah," I say gently. "I'm- I'm sorry." Aside from a solitary tear trickling down her left cheek, the blonde girl is completely emotionless.

"Don't be, you're hardly to blame," Hannah grumbles. "He's been like this for ages now. Seems to think that because he's a man, he can order everyone around."

"'He is man, hear him bitch'," I spit. "My dad used to be like that."

"Is that why it took you so long to come out?" Hannah asks- and the more I think about it, the more she might be right.

"I don't know," I sigh. "Have- have you made your mind up yet about Spencer and Hall?"

"Not yet," Hannah whispers, now close to tears.

"I think..." I begin. "I think someone needs an ice cream and onesie party right now."

"That sounds perfect," Hannah says, smiling warmly at me.

Rather than head home, we head immediately to Charlotte's house, where she and Keith welcome myself and Hannah with big hugs and Hannah mentions her fight with Martin. Within minutes, we've stripped out of our suits and put on our onesies- me in my favourite rabbit onesie (that I keep at Charlotte's for this very reason) and Hannah in a footless duck onesie.

"She's got legggggs!" Charlotte sings as Hannah sits down next to me on the sofa, her shins completely exposed by my too-short onesie.

"Ugh, sometimes I think they're TOO long," Hannah complains, tucking her bare legs underneath her. "Have you heard anything from Mary yet? I'd have expected a few honeymoon snaps to have hit Facebook by now."

"Nothing yet," Charlotte says. "I'm hoping they're not spending TOO much time having sex, considering her 'condition'! Dubai's such a beautiful place, they need to get out and explore it."

"Wasn't your first job for Spencer & Hall in Dubai?" I ask, inwardly grimacing after the words leave my mouth as I feel Hannah stare angrily at me.

"First overseas job, yeah," Charlotte.

"Shame I'll never get to visit," I sigh, trying to change the topic.

"Any country that can't accept you for what you are doesn't deserve to be visited by you," Charlotte says with a warm smile.

"Too right!" Hannah says. "And I've just had a fight with my so-called boyfriend, I thought I was promised ice cream?" Rolling his eyes, Keith gets up off the sofa, returning seconds later with three pots of ice cream for the three of us.

"Now that's a REAL man," Charlotte says, snuggling into Keith's arms.

"What, constantly under your thumb?" Keith moans.

"No, not 'under my thumb'," Charlotte retorts. "Just constantly at my beck and call!"

"You love it really," I joke at Keith, who simply rolls his eyes before shooting a haunting, sad look at me.

"What did you see in Martin, anyway?" Charlotte asks.

"God, at the start it was perfect," Hannah sighs. "I'd just signed for Joshua, he'd just started work for his dad... He was fun, he'd shower me with attention, he was GREAT in bed... Then he started, you know, getting all controlling."

"Trying to exert control over a model? Good luck with that..." Keith laughs, earning himself a playful elbow in the ribs from Charlotte. "I'm not wrong though, am I?"

"No, I guess not," Charlotte says, making us three girls all giggle!

"And now he's trying to make me-" Hannah says, before pausing and groaning loudly. "God, I can't keep this in any longer, Spencer & Hall have offered me a contract."

"Can't say I'm surprised," Charlotte says warmly. "If I was going to design a supermodel from scratch, she'd look a hell of a lot like you. Have you signed yet?"

"I'm not sure I'm going to," Hannah replies. "I mean, it's a phenomenal amount of money, but I'm already making tons of money from being in the Angels..."

"You have to do what's right for you," Charlotte says. "I mean, I know what I'd prefer you do, but it's not my choice, it's yours." I can't help but grin at the mature way Charlotte's absorbing Hannah's information and offering advice. 12 months ago, this conversation would probably have ended with Charlotte viewing Hannah as a rival to be dealt with accordingly...

"What's it like, working for them?" Hannah asks.

"Tiring," Charlotte replies. "Hard work, but fulfilling work. You never... Really feel like you're part of a family though, not like you do with Joshua. My agent would probably have had a fit if his nephew dated a model."

"Everything about them is very professional," I say. "Almost to the point that they have no, well, soul."

"EXACTLY that," Charlotte concurs.

"But the opportunities...?" Hannah asks.

"Limitless," Charlotte answers. "Literally limitless. I was signed for them for just over a year and they got me on Strictly. If you signed for them today they could probably get you on too, if not this year than certainly next year."

"God, this is such a hard choice," Hannah moans, slumping back on the sofa. "I don't want to leave the Angels, but this is a once in a lifetime opportunity..."

"Sleep on it," Charlotte advises. "Don't make any important decisions TOO quickly."

We're soon joined by Viks and Krystie (and their onesies), who are filled in on the situation and both offer their unconditional support to Hannah regardless of her decision. Viks and Krystie depart after a short while as both have dates, and after I reveal that I'd be staying at Charlotte's house tonight, Hannah all but begs me to let her sleep in my bed. Knowing that I can't turn down a friend in need, I agree, and we both head to bed just after 10:30pm.

"God, I can't believe Viks is getting laid tonight and I'm newly single," Hannah moans as she climbs under my bed sheets.

"You're definitely not taking Martin back?" I ask. "You went out with him for a long time..."

"He's become such an arsehole lately," Hannah moans. "You should've seen him on the double date on Thursday, insisting that he not be filmed yet making every effort to dominate the conversation and ruin it for everyone else."

"Let me guess- Keith was too polite to confront him and he just dismissed you and Charlotte like you were nothing?" I ask.

"Got it in one," Hannah sighs. "Charlotte's right, Keith IS a real man. I mean yes, he can be a bit of a doormat, but he's charming, kind, thoughtful... Why do guys think they have to act like macho morons every hour of every day?"

"They're caveman," I state, diving under the sheets. "But do you know what eventually happened to cavemen?"

"Umm... Tell me?" Hannah asks.

"Evolution," I explain. "They either adapted or they died out. Neanderthals like Martin are a dying breed. There are millions of better guys out there. More EVOLVED guys. And I'd be willing to bet every single one of them would give their right arm to be where I am right now!"

"Well they CAN'T," Hannah says with a confident smile, snuggling into my thick, warm sheets.

"Night, Hannah," I say, turning off the lights.

"Night, Jamie," Hannah replies.

I wake up the following morning at 7:30am, much to Hannah's dismay.

"Oh come on," the tall girl says, wrapping her arms around my slender waist. "Just let me cuddle you a little longer..."

"Buy a teddy bear," I joke, wriggling free of Hannah's embrace. "I've got to get ready, I'm on TV today!"

"Ugh, I've got nothing to do all day," Hannah complains, slumping back into bed. "I was going to surprise Martin at work... I guess THAT's out. Can- can I go with you to the studio? You know, let them have two Angels for the price of one?"

"I'm not sharing my pay cheque with you!" I yell from underneath my shower. "Not if you're going to work for Spencer and Hall, anyway!"

"I told you, I haven't made my mind up yet," Hannah sighs. "Can I least come with you to the studio, even if I don't get on air?"

"Sure," I say, returning to my bedroom with a towel wrapped around my chest and another around my hair. "Um, turn around?"

"Fine," Hannah mock-sighs, burying her face in a pillow. "I still can't believe you're so sensitive about it..."

"'It' will be gone in two months' time," I say, slipping on a clean bra and thong set and a silky camisole. "As far as everyone is concerned, 'it' already is."

"Reckon you'll do any nude stuff?" Hannah asks. "You know, when you get your vagina?"

"Reckon YOU'LL do any nude stuff?" I retort. "You know, because you HAVE a vagina?"

"Touché," Hannah laughs, putting on her suit from yesterday as I blow-dry my hair and apply my make-up. "Ugh, do you have any tights or any leggings? I put a ladder in mine yesterday in that onesie and don't really want to go out bare-legged in this skirt..."

"I'm sure I've got some unworn ones in my drawers," I answer. "Assuming they'll fit those pins of yours!"

"They're not THAT much longer than yours..." Hannah laughs, pulling on one of my pairs of light tights. "You know, for someone who was born male, you really do have a feminine body shape. I can see why people sometimes mistake you for Charlotte based on that alone."

"Thanks," I say smugly, picking a striped designer jumper out of my wardrobe and an A-line black skirt out of my drawers. "What do you reckon? Good enough for TV?"

"Good enough for ANYTHING," Hannah says with a warm grin. After pulling on the gorgeous items of clothing, I roll a pair of shiny black tights up my legs and complete my look with 4" heeled black stilettos. After applying my perfume, putting on my jewellery and grabbing my handbag, I head downstairs, raring to start the day!

"I'm off!" I yell to my part-time housemates. "See you tonight!"

"See you Jamie!" Keith yells back.

"I'm also off, in case you were wondering!" Hannah yells, barely stifling a giggle.

"See you too, Hannah," Keith yells with less enthusiasm.

After a quick stop at Hannah's house to allow her to change- she opts for a casual grey top and another tight miniskirt, but wears flats instead of heels, much to my relief- I arrive at the studio where I'll be spending the next half hour talking about the upcoming Angels show, my life and my upcoming surgery. Before I head on set, I make a quick phone call.

"Jamie!" Joshua booms from the other end of the line. "What are you doing calling me? You should be making the British viewing public love you!"

"Yeah, about that..." I begin. "I was wondering if today I could, you know, share the love? Hannah's had a falling out with her boyfriend and didn't want to be alone, so..."

"If she doesn't mind working for free, and the producers agree, then by all means you can take her onto the set!" Joshua says. "If anything like this happens in future don't even bother checking with me first- I'm marketing you girls as a group, so the more you appear together, the easier my job is!"

"Thanks," I say with a warm smile, before turning and facing Hannah.

"Want to be on TV today?" I ask, making Hannah giggle loudly and give me a tight hug.

35 minutes later, the two of us leave the studio, exhilarated by our latest media adventure. The show wasn't live, meaning we don't have the usual barrage of missed calls on our phones, which gives the two of us a chance to talk as we head home.

"God, I LOVE being on TV," Hannah says. "If I could be on TV every day, I would."

"...If you signed for Spencer and Hall, you probably could be," I say quietly, fearing that I've made my friend's decision for her.

"I know," Hannah whispers, before an awkward silence fills the car.

"...You're still not decided?" I ask.

"Not yet," Hannah replies. "They've asked for an answer by Friday. Jamie I- I really, really want this."

"...Then you should take it," I say, blinking tears out of my eyes.

"I mean, we'd always be friends, right?" Hannah asks, clearly close to tears herself.

"Of course," I whisper. "Always."

I drop the emotional girl back at her home before heading back to my own home, where I kick off my heels and collapse on the sofa, letting out a long, loud moan.

"Are you okay, Jamie?" Mum asks.

"I'm fine," I sigh. "It's just- one of the girls might be moving on, getting a different agent."

"Oh no," mum says with genuine concern. "Which one?"

"Hannah," I say. "She's been offered this mega-contract by the same agency I turned down last year, it's always been her dream to work for them... I dunno, I just always thought we'd be 'The Angels' forever..."

"Nothing lasts forever," mum says, sitting down next to me. "And you never know what life will bring you. I thought I'd have a son forever, but I was wrong, and I'm glad I was!" I grin and give my mum a quick hug.

"Thank you," I whisper. "I mean yes, I can always make a new friend, but I don't WANT a new friend, I want Hannah... Does that make me a selfish person?"

"No, of course not!" Mum says. "You're probably the kindest, most unselfish person I know."

"Well, you have to say that, you're my mother!" I joke.

"I don't HAVE to say it, I want to say it!" Mum jokes back. "But whatever happens, you'll always have myself and your father, and you'll always have at least four really close friends."

"Yes, I know, 'focus on what I DO have'..." I sigh.

"One of these days I won't have to remind you of that!" Mum laughs. "You'll be seeing the girls tonight, right?"

"Yeah," I reply. "Keith and the guys are having a boy's night ahead of the party tomorrow so we're having girl's night tonight instead of Friday. Can't believe it might be the last ever one..."

"Ten seconds and already you've forgotten your own advice!" Mum scolds. "You knew everything was going to change anyway, what with Mary's marriage and her baby..."

"Yes, I know," I say, slouching back in the sofa.

"And then there's your own change in April..." Mum teases. "You aren't having any second thoughts about THAT, are you?"

"I'd be lying if I said I haven't had second thoughts," I reply. "But this is something I want, something I NEED." Just like Hannah wants and needs Spencer and Hall...

I spend the rest of the day at home, catching up on work, but in the evening I change, ready for a night out. As always, my make-up is thick, my hair and jewellery extravagant, my heels extra high and my dress extra short, but tonight, I find it difficult to muster up the enthusiasm for a girls night out. The taxi picks me up just after 8:30pm, with Krystie already nestled in the back seat in her own sexy clubbing dress and heels.

"Hey lover," Krystie teases as I slide into the back seat of the car.

"Hey sexy," I say, giving Krystie a kiss on the lips, much to the taxi driver's amusement! "Is this going to be a tradition now, whenever we're alone together?"

"I dunno, Paul might get jealous!" Krystie laughs.

"Where is he tonight?" I ask.

"Around with the guys," Krystie explains. "Apparently he's much more comfortable talking to strange men than strange women, the wuss."

"Are you trying to imply I'm strange?" I ask.

"You being what you are doesn't make you strange," Krystie says diplomatically. "You being WHO you are, on the other hand, does!" I petulantly stick my tongue out at Krystie, before taking a deep breath.

"Do you know if Hannah's coming out tonight?" I ask, causing the mood in the car to drop sharply.

"I dunno," Krystie replies. "I guess we'll find out when we see Viks."

Sure enough, when we arrive at the club, Charlotte and Viks are waiting for us, but Hannah isn't.

"Hey girls," Krystie says, trying to keep the mood happy. "Looks like you'll all be looking up to me again!"

"It's not fair," Viks mock-whines. "Why do you need such tall heels anyway? You're taller than most of the guys in here even without them..."

"It's my way of weeding out guys who aren't tall enough for me," Krystie says smugly.

"Including the guy you already have?" Charlotte asks.

"Oh please," Krystie snorts. "If he can look but not touch, than so can I!" Giggling, the four of us are ushered into the posh club's VIP area and are treated to a round of drinks on the house, as has become almost tradition for our girl's nights.

"To Hannah," I say, raising my glass. "No matter what she decides, she'll always be OUR Hannah."

"To Hannah," the other girls toast, clinking our glasses together.

"Did she really not tell you about Spencer and Hall until yesterday?" I ask Viks.

"Seriously not," Viks replies. "But she's always wanted to sign for them, ever since you signed." Viks addresses Charlotte, who simply sighs.

"I know the feeling," Charlotte replies. "But what I have right here is far more valuable than anything those over-stuffed shirts could ever pay me."

"Aww," I say, giving my BFF a playful cuddle. "...It was the same for me." Charlotte, knowing that she was effectively the sole reason I didn't sign for Spencer & Hall, returns my cuddle.

We gossip for the next half hour before finally making our way to the dancefloor, where Krystie tries her hardest to send as many cute guys my way as she possibly can- though none take my interest. However, when the taxi drops me off at home- by which I mean Charlotte's house- the figure I see slinking out of the front door very much takes my interest.

"Hi Jamie!" Stuart says happily as he gets in his car. "Hi Charlotte, calling an early end to the girls night?"

"There's only the four of us, and I want to be up early tomorrow anyway," Charlotte explains.

"Four?" Stuart asks, confused. "Oh, right, Hannah. Yeah, Keith explained about her. And about Martin. Not that he'd have come tonight regardless."

"What time will you be round tomorrow?" Charlotte asks.

"Couldn't get the time off of work so it'll be late afternoon," Stuart sighs sadly. "I'd better not miss the big show!"

"Too right you'd better not," Charlotte says with a wide grin. "See you tomorrow, Stu."

"Hey Stu," I say. "Can I have a word with you inside before you go?"

"Um, sure," Stuart replies, getting out of his car and following me up to my bedroom. "What's up?" When I'm sure that we're alone, I place both of my hands on Stuart's chest and lean in close to him.

"I need 'benefits'," I explain.

"Umm... Now?" Stuart asks. "You've kinda had a lot to drink, I can tell by your breath alone..."

"Oh come on..." I plead.

"Jamie," Stuart sighs, placing his hands over mine. "Right now you're feeling vulnerable, what with this Hannah thing, Mary being away on honeymoon... You're terrified things will never be the same again, right?" I nod, frowning at Stuart's insightfulness.

"Casual sex with a friend isn't really going to change that," Stuart advises.

"I know, I know," I moan. "Can- can we at least sleep together tonight, sex aside?"

"Also a bad idea," Stuart says, though I can tell he isn't 100% convinced. "Jamie... I promise you one day, when we both want it, we WILL have sex. How we do it, I dunno, but one of these days, if by some miracle you're still single, and you still want- no, NEED it- then we will. But not today, not when you're drunk and upset."

"Dammit, why do you have to be such a good friend?" I ask the smiling transman.

"See you tomorrow, Jamie," Stuart whispers, leaning in and giving me a gentle kiss.

I strip off my dress and crash in my bed, groaning with frustration. Stuart's right in everything he says, even though my feelings for him are growing day by day. It's been so long since I had sex that I am almost desperate, but all it'd do is ease my need for sex- it wouldn't magically make Hannah choose to stay with the Angels or magically erase Mary's pregnancy from history...

I wake up at 8am the following morning with only a mild hangover that I easily take care of with a couple of aspirin. After running through my morning routine, I change into a knee-length slinky purple dress with long see-through sleeves, pairing it with another pair of the same shiny black tights I wore yesterday. After slipping my feet into a pair of comfortable Ugg boots, I pick up the pile of presents on the floor beside my bed and head downstairs, where- unsurprisingly- Keith and Charlotte are already awake.

"Happy birthday!" I say, giving the tall young man a quick hug- with Charlotte's permission, of course. "The big two-three!"

"Thanks, Jamie!" Keith says happily, sorting through the pile of presents I dropped in his lap. "You really shouldn't have gone to THIS much trouble."

"Oh come on," I joke. "You're my BFF's BF, that's got to count for something, surely?"

"...Okay," Keith says, giving me another hug. "That's a lot of Bs and a lot of Fs, but you're right, it does count for a lot. And I am grateful, so grateful to have you as a friend." Keith pauses as his eyes go wide at what he said in front of his girlfriend. "You and all the other Angels," he continues, hastily covering his tracks. "Just wish Mary and Dan could be here..."

"They'll be back on Saturday," Charlotte says. "Now get opening! I want to see what my BFF got my BF just as much as you do!" Grinning like a small child, Keith tears the wrapping paper off my presents, thanking me profusely for each gift, whether it's a new videogame, a DVD or an item of clothing.

We spend the rest of the morning at Keith's beck and call- normally he waits on us hand and foot whilst we're here, so we don't mind a bit of ironic role reversal for one day each year. Keith's parents arrive shortly after lunch, followed by his friends, including the rest of the Angels & their boyfriends (those who are still in the UK, anyway). Stuart arrives just after 5pm, as promised, with Krystie in tow, as well as Riley (with whom Keith has apparently become good friends) and Rebecca. Last to arrive- unsurprisingly- is Hannah, just twenty minutes before we don our costumes for the big performance.

"Sorry I'm late," Hannah says, visibly shaking with nerves.

"Don't worry about it," Charlotte says stoically as she leads us up to her bedroom, where we change into our spangled majorette leotards.

"Are- are you okay?" I ask Hannah, who quietly nods in response.

"I'll be fine," she whispers. "Let's- let's just do this." I nod, and allow Hannah to change in peace, though I can't help but be worried. Worried that my friend is upset, and worried that this will be the last time we change for one of our performances together. Once we're all changed, the five of us confidently stride downstairs whilst Stuart (our resident music expert) plays the song he pre-recorded for our show. After a full five minutes of baton-twirling, dancing and singing the praises of the birthday boy, we finish in a human pyramid- well, human trapezium, I guess- as Charlotte, Viks and I hoist Krystie and Hannah on our shoulders. After receiving our standing ovation- and Charlotte receives a long, deep kiss from Keith- I go in search of Hannah. Fortunately, as Keith isn't technically an Angel, there aren't any camera crews here, making it easier to be discreet. Before I can go two steps, however, I'm intercepted by Stuart and his sister.

"You look ridiculous," Stuart says stoically. "And sexy."

"Soo..." I say, taking Stuart's playful teasing the way it was undoubtedly intended, "ridiculously sexy, is that what you're saying?"

"Sure," Stuart says, before his straight face cracks and he chuckles at himself.

"I wish I was a majorette," Rebecca sighs, gazing at my costume.

"When's Riley's birthday?" I ask. "You could always dress up, do something special for his birthday, you and your friends..."

"No she COULDN'T," Stuart says, earning himself a playful whack from his sister.

"I'm an adult, I can do what I want," Rebecca says smugly.

"I'm your big brother, that means I can stop you doing what you want," Stuart chastises.

"Make me," Rebecca retorts, slipping her hand in the rear pocket of her returning boyfriend and eagerly sipping from her champagne glass as they mingle with the rest of the party.

"As you may have guessed, she begged me to bring her along," Stuart sighs.

"I wish I had a younger sibling," I muse. "Guess I'll just have to settle for five sisters instead."

"Has Hannah made her decision yet?" Stuart whispers.

"That's what I'm about to find out," I say, catching sight of the tall girl's hat, around which the other hats are congregating.

"So," Krystie says, looking Hannah in the eye. "This is it, I guess."

"Yep," Hannah replies. "This is it." All five of us blink back tears as Hannah looks at the floor and takes a deep breath.

"I turned them down," Hannah says smugly. "Angels forever!" As one, Charlotte, Krystie, Viks and I all fling ourselves at Hannah, nearly tackling her to the floor in the most emotional group hug I've ever known.

"Oh my god," Hannah says, openly weeping. "I love you guys so, so much!"

"And I love you," I whisper. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Sure, one day, Hannah will eventually grow apart from the rest of us. So will Viks, Mary, Krystie... Maybe even Charlotte herself. But not today. Today, the sisterhood remains intact and is stronger than ever, and so is my heart. I glance over at Stuart and give him a quick wink to let him know that everything's going to be alright, at least for now. Even though I'm wearing a silly majorette's costume that will probably get hung up in my wardrobe and never worn again, I can't think of a single place I'd rather be than right here, right now, surrounded by my friends- who, as far as I'm concerned, are my family.

And I love my family more than anything in the world.

My heart is racing and my palms are clammy. My mouth is bone dry from not having eaten in 24 hours and I'm shaking like a leaf.

"Okay Miss Burke," the doctor says as he injects a syringe into my IV drip. "I want you to count backwards from ten. Can you do that, please?"

"Ten," I whisper hoarsely. "Nine, e-eight, um, seven..." My head starts to spin as I find it harder and harder to keep my eyes open.

"Six, um, six?" I ask as my brain fogs over and my entire body feels like it's made out of lead.

"Five," I slur incoherently after several seconds of concentration. I don't recall whether or not I actually said 'four', but either way, the next thing I'm aware of is darkness, and the beeping of my heart monitor. I open my eyes slowly, grimacing at the sight of the bright light hitting my eyes. The IV drip in my hand stings, my legs are up in stirrups, my head still feels like it's stuffed with cotton wool, and my groin is in a LOT of pain. However, there's only one thing that I'm concerned about.

"He-hello?" I call weakly, smiling as I'm greeted by the sight of my mother's face looking down on me.

"Jamie, thank god you're awake," mum- who's clearly been crying- says to me.

"Was-was..." I incoherently ask.

"The surgery was a complete success," mum says with tears flowing from her eyes. "You truly are our little girl now!" I smile weakly and settle my head back down on my pillow. I'm dazed, confused, and in a lot of pain, but in the long run, it'll be worth it. After three long years on this journey, I can finally say that I am the proud owner of a vagina.

Mum sticks around for the rest of the day, and is later joined by dad, who expresses his pride in me- even though the painkillers flowing through my system mean I barely hear a word he says!

Over the course of the next few days, I have at least one friend with me at all times throughout my recovery. Mum stays with me as much as she can, as does dad (work permitting). All of the Angels drop by more than once, as does Dr. Phillips, and my bedside is inundated with flowers and boxes of chocolate that I'm not going to feel up to eating for ages! After three days, my IV is removed, as is my catheter and my blood drain. Both of those experiences were particularly unpleasant- I'd been warned beforehand that my new lady parts would hurt a LOT at first, but a part of me had been unprepared for just how much. But, as with all pain, it subsided. Peeing through my vagina for the first time was an experience that truly made my eyes go wide- but even though the 'entrance' was still sore, after the first few times it became almost natural.

A few days later, the dressing around my vagina was removed, as was the stent that had been placed inside, allowing me to see it for the first time- and it was NOT pretty. Obviously, I'm aware of how a vagina SHOULD look, and whilst mine certainly seemed to have the right shape- I was operated on by the best SRS surgeon in Europe, after all- it was bruised, swollen and discoloured. I will admit I did shed a few tears when I looked at it in the mirror, but fortunately my recovery nurse- who will forever be on my Christmas card list, so amazing was the care she provided for me- was able to calm me down and logically talk me through the next steps of my recovery. The following day, I began my dilation regime for the first time.

Even though it's well lubricated and sterilised, the sensation of pushing something into my vagina was something that I had a near panic attack about during the first time. Fortunately, my nurse was able to guide me through it every step of the way, but it was still highly uncomfortable to begin with- especially as I have to do it AT LEAST four times a day for fifteen minutes each time. Over time, the frequency of the dilating will fall, as will the frequency of the vaginal douches I have to give myself- which is currently twice a day, in addition to twice-daily sitz baths.

Finally, on Tuesday the 15th of April, nine long days after my surgery, I arrived home from hospital to a huge ovation. Literally everyone in my life was there to welcome me back- as well as my parents, all the Angels were present, as were their boyfriends (those of them who had boyfriends), Stuart and both of his sisters were there, Joshua & his family were there, as were a small camera crew.

"Oh my god, you guys," I say, crying openly at the scene. Banners were hung from the windows of my house and balloons were tied to the front door and the fence and there streamers everywhere- decorations that were all, of course, in a baby pink colour. After shakily walking to my front door with Charlotte & Stuart's help (I hadn't wanted to be in a wheelchair or carried by my father), I'm helped upstairs to my bedroom where I wearily collapse on my bed, thankful to finally be home.

"Anything you need, just shout," mum says, dropping my hospital bag.

"Thanks, thank you so much," I say, smoothing my knee-length blue dress underneath me as I attempt to get comfortable.

"You've really done it," Charlotte says with pride in her voice. "I love you so much, Jamie! You're so awesome!" My BFF gives me a gentle hug, taking care not to squish anything she shouldn't squish!

"You really are," Stuart concurs. "You're my hero! I wish I had the courage to, you know, grow a pair." Charlotte and I giggle at Stuart's joke, despite my mild headache.

"I've already told Keith I'll be spending a lot of time around here, at least until you get back on your feet," Charlotte explains.

"That's really not necessary," I say, lighting squeezing Charlotte's hand.

"You can't expect your mum to do EVERYTHING for you," Stuart jokes. "I'll also be around when I can. Though I should warn you, Charlotte and the other Angels- well, except Mary, obviously- MIGHT be wearing the nurse costumes you wore to my birthday party last month..."

"Ruin the surprise, why don't you?" Charlotte chastises my favourite transman as I giggle.

"Honestly," I say firmly. "I want to get back on my feet as soon as possible. Can't do that if I'm waited on hand and foot now, can I?"

"Aww," Charlotte says, giving me another hug. "Stuart's right, you ARE a hero!"

"HeroINE," I correct my BFF, bringing on a very welcome giggling fit!

"We've both got the rest of the day off," Stuart tells me. "Anything you need right now, anything at all, just tell me."

"Well, I do need..." I begin.

"Name it," Charlotte says expectantly.

"...Some privacy while I dilate," I grimace, making both Charlotte and Stuart look slightly uncomfortable.

"Okay," Charlotte says, nodding and leading Stuart out of the room whilst I pull down my panties, lay a towel underneath myself and insert the thick dildo-like tube into my new vagina.

When I began my transition three years ago, this was always my intended 'endgame', but as the day approached- and the media interest surrounding my SRS increased- I found myself increasingly anxious, having second thoughts about the surgery. Not because I no longer identified as female, but more because I'd become comfortable in my life, and my status as pre-operative. It was common knowledge that I still had a penis, and by and large, the public couldn't care. I was still viewed as a girl by the vast majority of people, and by ALL the people who really mattered, like my family and my friends. Dr Phillips tried to explain this away as my brain chemistry altering due to lack of oestrogen- I had to stop taking my hormone tablets in the weeks leading up to my SRS- but I wasn't convinced.

It was only after talking to Stuart that I was fully convinced I was making the right decision. As much as Charlotte may be my BFF, over the past few weeks, Stuart and I have grown closer than ever. He never did take me up on my ‘friends with benefits’ offer, but as ‘friends without benefits’, we’re closer than we’ve ever been. He helped me realise that even though I didn’t NEED a vagina, if I didn’t have the operation, I’d live the rest of my life WANTING one. And life’s far, far too short to not strive to achieve our goals, especially as I’ve already spent 22 ½ years without a vagina!

After my fifteen minutes are up, I remove the dilator and slowly hobble to the bathroom, where I sterilise the tube in a cup of boiling water and put the towel back in my bag. Naturally, on hearing me move about, Charlotte, Stuart and my mum immediately run upstairs to see if anything’s wrong!

“Oh my god,” I sigh. “I’m not a complete invalid!”

“Yeah, you are,” Stuart says dismissively, wrapping a strong arm around my tiny waist and guiding me back to my bed.

“Seriously,” I sigh as I lay back down. “If I stay cooped up in this room for a month I’m going to go nuts!”

“Nuts?” Charlotte asks. “Interesting choice of word…” Charlotte, Stuart & mum all laugh as I get comfortable on my bed.

“Ugh, you know what I mean,” I sigh. “Bananas, then…” I roll my eyes as my mum and my friends laugh again. “God’s sake,” I moan. “Is there any saying in the world that can’t be twisted into innuendo for a cock and balls?”

“Yep,” Charlotte says, sitting next to me and giving me a small cuddle. “And her name is Jamie-Lee Burke!” This time, it’s my turn to giggle at Charlotte’s unusual, but very welcome compliment.

“I’ll make you some tea,” mum says, leaving me alone with my best friends.

“Great,” I say after mum leaves. “I can get some peeing practice in…” Charlotte and Stuart both laugh heartily.

“God, I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like…” Charlotte sighs.

“What, having a vagina?” I ask with a cheeky grin. “You’ve had one for 23 years, haven’t you?”

“Twenty-TWO years,” Charlotte corrects.

“…And eleven months,” I say, earning myself a soft whack with a pillow!

“Ladies,” Stuart says. “Keep it above the belt!” Charlotte and I both giggle at Stuart’s joke. “It’s pretty fucked up though,” Stuart sighs. “I’m the only guy in the room and yet I’ve had a vagina longer than anyone else…”

“Which, as Jamie’s proven, you don’t have to keep…” Charlotte says.

“I know, I know,” Stuart sighs. “It’s- it’s just not that easy, not ‘going the other way’…”

“It’s hardly a walk in the park for me,” I say, trying not to snort. “You don’t know what I’d give to be able to go for a walk in the park right now…” Charlotte sighs and cuddles me again.

“You’ll get there,” Charlotte says. “You’ll be pirouetting through the park before you know it!”

“Ugh,” I grunt. “Won’t even be able to go to ballet for months…”

“Aww,” Charlotte says, cuddling me closer. “Where’s your dance bag?”

“Bottom of my closet, left-hand side,” I answer. “Why, exactly?” Without answering, Charlotte hops off my bed and immediately retrieves me dance bag, pulling out my beloved pointe shoes and tying them to my feet before I have the chance to argue.

“Just a reminder that even if you’re off your feet, you’re still a beautiful ballerina!” Charlotte says smugly as I flex my feet and ankles.

“Emphasis on the BEAUTIFUL,” Stuart says.

“Emphasis on the BALLERINA,” Charlotte corrects. “You know I’ve not decided on a theme yet for my 23rd, obviously I’m not going to have another ballet theme, not while you’re off your feet. If you’d prefer, I can skip the ‘theme’ for this year.”

“Oh no,” I plead. “No way! I’ll be back on my feet in a month, I won’t exactly be up to dancing a routine but I can still wear a leotard or a corset…”

“What’ve you had the last 3 years?” Stuart asks Charlotte. “Ballerina, showgirl… What was your 20th again?”

“Playboy bunny,” Charlotte says with a smile. “God, that seems like SO long ago, I’d only known Jamie a couple of months…”

“And yet you were comfortable enough to prance around together in tiny leotards?” Stuart asks. “You really are BFFs…”

“Yep!” I say happily, cuddling Charlotte.

“Here you go,” mum says, opening my door and carrying a tray of full mugs of tea. “Aww,” mum sighs upon seeing my footwear. “Are you missing your ballet already?”

“A little,” I sigh, sipping my tea. “It was Charlotte’s idea, really.”

“Jamie’s so lucky to have such good friends,” mum says proudly. “Especially now she’s off her feet…”

“I really, truly am blessed,” I say.

I spend the rest of the afternoon answering questions and gossiping with my two best friends- when I’m not dilating, douching or sitting in a shallow bath, anyway. Stuart departs after 5pm, leaving me alone with my BFF.

“Okay,” Charlotte says, turning to me with a serious face. “Now that the BOY is gone... How long before you can, y’know, ‘use’ your new lady parts?”

“I assume by ‘use’ you don’t mean just peeing?” I ask, to which Charlotte nods excitedly.

“I figure, y’know, one of the main reasons you’d have it is because…” Charlotte muses, before I hold up a hand to cut her off.

“The MAIN reason is so I stop feeling like the ‘odd girl out’,” I say, prompting Charlotte to give me yet another cuddle.

“You were NEVER the odd girl out,” Charlotte says with a warm smile. “And…?”

“And…” I answer, letting out a small sigh. “Three months minimum, six months recommended. Not that I have a boyfriend to help me ‘use’ it anyway…”

“Six months without sex?” Charlotte grimaces.

“That’s about as long as I’ve already gone,” I whine.

“Yeah, but that’s ‘nasty’ sex…” Charlotte says.

“Have you honestly not even TRIED it yet?” I ask, giggling at Charlotte’s disgust. “Even now I’m ‘fully equipped’ I’d still occasionally, you know, ‘go in back’…”

“Seriously!?” Charlotte asks. “And to answer your question, absolutely not, that hole is strictly no entry!”

“Do you remember how, when we first met, I was seen as the ‘sweet and innocent’ one?” I ask, still laughing at Charlotte’s uncharacteristic prudishness. “If only they could hear this little conversation…” Charlotte giggles, shaking her head at my ‘preferences’.

“I think Keith would freeze in terror if I ‘backed into him’,” Charlotte chuckles. “Speaking of, he’ll be here in a bit…”

“Whilst we’re talking about new experiences,” I say, “I also can’t believe you haven’t learned how to drive yet!” Charlotte simply shrugs and laughs.

“Keith loves chauffeuring me around,” my BFF smugly states. “Is there anything I can get for you before I go?”

“Yes, actually,” I say, trying to find a comfortable position as I sit upright. “Can you look in my dresser, top drawer, right-hand side?”

“What am I looking for?” Charlotte asks as she opens the small drawer.

“You’ll know them when you see them,” I say with a sly grin.

“Ohhhh yes,” Charlotte says with a grin of her own. “Can’t believe you still wear- well, I guess, ‘wore’ these!” Charlotte carefully picks the thin latex vagina panties out of my drawer, playfully holding one in front of her own crotch.

“Most of the time I spend with you I’m wearing skimpy or skin-tight clothing,” I explain. “It’d have been kinda awkward without them!”

“…And now?” Charlotte asks.

“Bin them!” I say happily. Charlotte laughs and scrunches the latex prosthetics into a ball, dropping them in the pedal bin in the corner of my room.

“God, this is so cool!” Charlotte says, giving me a tight, yet careful hug. “I’m at work all day tomorrow, but I’ll drop round whenever I can, okay?”

“Of course!” I say happily. After seeing my BFF off and dilating one last time, I change into a comfortable nightie and my softest cotton panties and snuggle down in my own bed for the first time in almost two weeks. I’m asleep almost as my head hits the pillow- and when I wake up the following morning at 7:30am, I feel refreshed, despite the dull pain that still permeates my sensitive areas.

After dilating, I start my new morning routine, musing on how different it feels not having to do things- like cleaning my vagina panty- and how weird it feels adding things like douching and dilating to the routine. After my first sitz bath of the day (after which I also take the opportunity to shower), I dress in a very comfortable cotton bra and panty set, foregoing anything tight of clingy like a thong, or anything made of satin or lace, until my ‘area’ has the chance to heal and get stronger. I pull a loose knee-length sundress over my head and slowly hobble downstairs, where my parents greet me with looks that could almost be described as ‘horror’.

“What the hell are you doing up!?” Dad asks incredulously. “Get back to bed! You’re not going to get better if you push yourself too hard, you know that!”

“Dad, I’m going to go crazy with boredom if I’m locked in that room all day!” I plead.

“Then on my way home I’ll buy you an Xbox or something,” dad says. “You knew this wasn’t going to be quick, that you wouldn’t recover overnight no matter how bored you get. And your friends will be round in a couple of hours anyway.”

“Yeah, well it’s Mary’s turn to look after me today,” I explain. “I can’t ask her to go up and down stairs all day in her condition, can I?”

“She’ll have her husband with her,” mum argues. “He can do all the hard work.” I sigh, knowing I’m not going to win this argument.

“Okay, fine,” I moan, slowly climbing back up the stairs. “But I want that Xbox! And no complaints about loud noise coming from my room!”

“Done and done,” dad jokes. “I’ll see you later, Jamie.”

“See you, dad,” I say with a smile as mum guides me back up the stairs and onto my bed. As promised, Mary & Dan arrive a short while later and make the slow climb to my room, Dan supporting his very pregnant wife every step of the way.

“Hey girrrrrrrrrrl!” Mary says excitedly, giving me a long hug despite her swollen belly! “God, you look amazing!”

“You look pretty great too!” I say, gently rubbing Mary’s rounded abdomen. ”Taking good care of my god-son or daughter?”

“Of course!” Mary says as she sits down on my large bed. “But today, he or she can wait- his or her godmother is priority number one!”

“I still can’t believe you haven’t told us the sex yet,” I sigh.

“In time,” Mary says with a smug smile. “You’ll find out before the birth, I promise!”

“Good, then I can start buying Christening gifts to alleviate my boredom!” I joke, making both Mary and Dan laugh.

“Anything I can get either of you whilst I’m on my feet?” Dan asks.

“I’m good, thanks,” I say with a smile. “Happy that your wife hasn’t worn her nurse’s costume as Charlotte promised…”

“Well,” Mary teases. “About that…” Much to my surprise, Dan then removes his t-shirt and jeans to reveal Mary’s tiny nurse’s dress underneath, with stockings and suspenders underneath his very visible boxer shorts. Needless to say, after Dan pulls his nurse's hat on, both Mary and I nearly wet ourselves laughing!

“Oh god,” I breathe, barely regaining my composure. “I shouldn’t laugh, I really shouldn’t, but you don’t look even remotely feminine!”

“We did question whether or not this was insensitive,” Dan says, adjusting his stockings. “Glad you approve!”

“Oh believe me, I DON’T,” I laugh. “But I need to take a photo of this!” Much to my delight, Dan pulls several dramatically UNSEXY poses as I snap him with my iPhone.

“We didn’t want you to think that we’re trivialising your, you know, ‘journey’,” Mary explains.

“It’s fine, it really is,” I say with a genuine smile. “Believe me, there’s a difference between ‘transsexual’, ‘drag queen’ and… whatever the hell THAT is!” Dan folds his hairy arms and pouts at us again as we burst into yet another giggling fit.

“God, I shouldn’t be laughing this much,” Mary says. “I’m back and forth to the toilet enough as it is!”

“This is gonna sound odd, given what I’ve just had done,” I sigh, “but I really do envy you. I’m never going to be able to bear children, and at first I was okay with that, but now… I wish there was another operation I could have, you know, to make that possible.”

“You want to spend 9 months in massive discomfort, at the end of which you push something the size of a grapefruit out of your vagina?” Mary asks incredulously.

“I want to be a woman,” I sigh.

“You ARE,” Mary insists.

“And we can lift your dress up to check now,” Dan interjects, earning himself stern stares from myself and his wife.

“THAT was insensitive,” I say coldly.

“Sorry, sorry,” Dan grimaces. “I’ll, um, I’ll get everyone something to drink.” When Dan leaves, Mary and I collapse into yet another attack of the giggles.

“He’s not entirely wrong,” Mary says. “By any measurable standard, you ARE female.”

“…Except for genetically,” I sigh.

“Have you ever seen DNA with your own eyes?” Mary asks. “Neither have I. I HAVE, on the other hand, seen a vagina.”

“Oh really?” I ask cheekily.

“My own, for god’s sake!” Mary retorts. “And you’ve got one of them, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” I say happily.

“Well, there you go then!” Mary says, bringing a much-needed smile to my face.

“Speaking of,” I sigh, holding up my dilator. “Gonna need a bit of privacy…”

“Wish I had a doctor who told me I could spend all day lying on my back playing with dildos…” Mary laughs, leaving me to dilate in peace.

Mary and Dan remain at my bedside for the rest of the day, chatting to me and entertaining me as best they can. Dad returns at 5pm carrying my promised Xbox, which he sets up with the aid of Dan (who has thankfully changed out of his nurse’s uniform!). After an hour or so of gaming with Dan & Mary, the couple depart, leaving me alone once again with my thoughts. Switching off my new game, I pick up my iPad to find it unsurprisingly littered with new message notifications- most of which are from my BFF. After clearing all the notifications on my twitter, YouTube and Facebook fan page, I open up a new chat window to the woman whose company I missed today.

‘Hey,’ I type to Charlotte.

‘Hey Jay!’ Charlotte immediately responds. ‘Hope you were treated well by Mary and ‘Nurse Dan’!’

‘LOL,’ I reply. ‘You knew about that little ‘surprise’ then?’

‘Please tell me you took pictures!’ Charlotte types. Smiling, I send her some of the photos I’d taken earlier.

‘LOL!!!!’ Charlotte types. ‘I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t laugh really!’

‘No, it’s okay, I almost pissed myself too!’ I reply. ‘Though it’s mostly because Dan’s almost a foot taller than Mary so the dress doesn’t even begin to fit him!’

‘Thank god he didn’t wear her panties, THAT’s something I don’t need to see!’ Charlotte jokes.

‘Lol,’ I type. ‘Got anything planned for tonight?’

‘Just hanging out with Keith,’ Charlotte replies, before typing a winking smiley into the chat box.

‘What’s with the wink?’ I ask.

‘Let’s just say,’ Charlotte types, ‘if I’m walking funny tomorrow I’m blaming you!’ My eyes go wide as I instantly realise what Charlotte’s hinting at.

‘OMG!’ I type. ‘Remember, relax, and enjoy it!’

‘Oh, I plan to,’ Charlotte replies. ‘I figure, seeing as you’re exploring new sensations, it was about time I did the same!’

‘Lol,’ I type. ‘ttyl, bff!’

I get to bed- well, INTO bed- shortly afterwards, after a final dilating session. As much as I want to get back on my feet, the operation has drained most of my energy, meaning- much to my parents’ relief- I find myself getting to bed much earlier than usual. I’m grateful for the early night when my alarm wakes me as usual at 7:30am, and I quickly run through my new morning routine before pulling on a new bra and panty set and a long-sleeved dark blue dress. I also pull on a pair of opaque black tights- largely as it’s colder than usual outside, but also because the dress is short, and I want to disguise the bruising still present (but thankfully fading) on my upper thighs. It’s the first time since my operation that I’ve worn tights- my gynaecologist has warned me of the dangers of yeast infections, and it may have made me a little paranoid!

After my second dilating session of the day, I’m interrupted by a knock on my bedroom door, and I grin widely as Hannah steps into my room, carrying a first aid kit and dressed in the same ‘sexy nurse’ costume as Dan was yesterday- though she looks much better in it, of course!

“Hi!” Hannah beams, giving me a gentle hug. “You just sit back and let Nurse Hannah take care of everything for you today!”

“Thanks,” I say with a grateful grin. “Though the costume really wasn’t necessary.”

“I figured if I wore it, it’d erase the mental image of Dan yesterday!” Hannah laughs.

“Oh my god, you saw the photos?” I ask, prompting a loud giggle from Hannah.

“Basically EVERYONE’s seen it,” the tall blonde girl confirms. “Mary’s gained over a thousand Instagram followers yesterday alone!” I laugh as I open up my iPad and confirm that the photos of Dan are indeed going viral on the internet.

“Can’t think of many guys who’d agree to do that,” I laugh. God knows I wouldn’t have done, not before I met Charlotte…

“He’s married to a supermodel,” Hannah snorts. “It’s not like his masculinity is in any doubt!”

“Very true,” I say, putting away my iPad. “On that topic, are you STILL beating guys away with a stick?”

“If by ‘stick’ you mean something the size of a small tree, then yeah,” Hannah sighs, sitting on the edge of my bed.

“How the hell are you still single?” I ask. “More to the point, how do you not get several marriage proposals just walking down the street?”

“Look who’s talking!” Hannah jokes. “You’ve been single for as long as I’ve known you, and that’s over nine months!”

“Yeah, well I have an excuse,” I say. “HAD an excuse, anyway!” Hannah and I share another giggle as she sidles up closer to me.

“I don’t really NEED a man, anyway,” I say with a confident smile.

“Yeah…” Hannah says. “But do you WANT a man?” I sigh and lay back on my bed.

“Some days, more than anything…” I moan. “And it’s not just the sex… I miss having someone to, you know, just BE with. Someone I can go on dates with, someone I can cuddle up to in bed…” Almost as if on cue, Hannah slides next to me and wraps her arms around me in a soft cuddle.

“…Not quite the same,” I giggle.

“I know what you mean,” Hannah sighs. “Still, got to keep your spirits up, soon you’ll be back on your feet, right? And with brand-new, fancy lady parts…”

“Yeah,” I say with a smile. “Besides, girlfriends are better than boyfriends any day of the week!”

“Too right! Hannah cheers. “Hey, I’ve just had an idea…” Within seconds, Hannah’s phone is in her hands and she’s furiously typing into it. A short while later, my iPad pings, and I can’t help but laugh at the notification on it.

‘Facebook: confirm that you are in a relationship with Hannah Dexter.’ Grinning wickedly, I open up Facebook and confirm the ‘relationship status change’, and inevitably notifications come flooding in, mostly likes, a few ‘OMG’ comments and a few people complaining that April Fool’s Day was earlier in the month! When a comment comes through from Stuart that simply reads ‘prove it’, Hannah and I look at each other and, somehow suppressing giggles, take a selfie of us deeply kissing each other, posting it in the comments to much hilarity!

“I’ve now snogged three of the Angels,” I muse aloud as we giggle at the reaction to our ‘update’.

“Really?” Hannah asks me. “Do tell…”

“…I don’t kiss and tell,” I say, playfully sticking my tongue out at the blonde woman.

“Not even for your ‘girlfriend’?” Hannah pouts.

“A lost bet and an alcohol-fuelled night out in Paris,” I say with a smirk. “Come to think of it, you’re the first girl I ever snogged sober!”

“Ooh, I feel all privileged,” Hannah says.

“And why did you bring a first aid kit with you?” I ask. “I don’t recall you saying you had any medical training…”

“Well…” Hannah says, “It’s not exactly medicine…” Much to my delight, Hannah unzips the ‘first aid kit’ to reveal over thirty bottles of nail polish of all colours.

“I figure two weeks without a proper nail treatment is long enough,” Hannah giggles, taking a glittery red polish from her ‘it’ and expertly recoating my fingernails. “Actually, you really look like you could use a full makeover. Um, no offence, of course…”

“None taken,” I say. “But I know what you mean… I’ve not been wearing that much make-up because I’m not going anywhere but, I dunno, I guess I feel I don’t have to try as hard to be a girl now that I actually have a vagina…”

“Are you really telling me you DON’T like make-up?” Hannah asks with a giggle.

“No,” I retort. “I’m still wearing foundation today, I filled in my eyebrows, I’m wearing clear lip-gloss, it’s just… I don’t have anything to hide any more.”

“You NEVER did,” Hannah smiles, drying my nails with a warm lamp. “Now get those tights off and I’ll do your toes!”

“Ah,” I say defensively. “Um, speaking of nothing to hide… It’s still… Really NOT pretty down there.”

“Keep your knickers on!” Hannah jokes. “Literally, keep them on, it’s not like I’m painting your new lady parts or anything!” Blushing, I slowly slide my tights off my legs, exposing the pale bruises on the inside of my thighs.

“This is kinda what I’m trying to hide,” I sigh, gently touching the tender areas. “Obviously it’ll fade soon, but I’d really rather just keep them covered up.”

“That explains why your tights are so thick,” Hannah says sympathetically. “Guess that just means I’m going to have to paint your toes even brighter!” Smiling, Hannah removes my tights and takes her brightest, almost neon red polish from her kit and begins repainting my toenails.

“Viks won’t be able to come tomorrow,” Hannah explains as she works on my toes. “She’s swapping with Krystie, so you’ll see her tomorrow instead.”

“Isn’t Krys working tomorrow?” I ask.

“Nah, Good Friday,” Hannah explains.

“And what’s up with Viks?” I enquire further.

“You know Joshua’s family are big into church,” Hannah says. “Him and his family are attending some big service somewhere, all the partners are expected to attend too.”

“Viks and Jon are getting really serious, then?” I ask.

“REALLY serious,” Hannah confirms. “I’ve known her for almost ten years, don’t think I’ve ever seen her this crazy about a guy.”

“Did she have boyfriends before signing with Joshua?” I ask. “I mean, she was always so shy…”

“She had boyfriends,” Hannah confirms, “but nothing really serious, nothing longer than a couple of months.”

“Hell, I know that feeling,” I sigh as Hannah dries my toenails and I pull my tights back up. “Before Paul I was bouncing from guy to guy… Didn’t help that I wasn’t ‘out’ before then…”

“Well,” Hannah says with a smile, “now that you’re not just ‘out’ but also, well, ‘off’, you’ll have no problem getting ANY guy you want!”

“Yeah,” I laugh. Sadly not ANY guy… I muse, thinking of how close I came with both Keith and Stuart.

I spend the rest of the day- when not dilating, of course- gossiping with Hannah, redoing each other’s make-up and nails over and over. Hannah departs just after eating dinner with my family (thankfully changing out of her costume into one of my longer dresses so as to avoid any awkward questions). After dad helps me back into my room, I settle down for an evening of chatting on Facebook and gaming on my Xbox, when I’m interrupted by a knock on the front door, and an unexpected guest.

“Hey,” Keith says with a wide smile on his beautiful face. “Got a second?”

“Of course!” I say. “Though if you’re wearing a nurse’s dress under there…”

“No,” Keith laughs. “No, no, no. Dan’s taken the humiliation for the team there! Um, uh, not that a man wearing women’s clothing is humiliating, um…”

“Sit down!” I laugh, giggling at Keith awkwardly trying to backpedal from an insult he didn’t make.

“Thanks,” Keith says, sitting down.

“Where’s Charlie?” I ask.

“She’s not here,” Keith says. “She’s gone out with Krystie, I think. I know the six of you have said no ‘big nights out’ until you and Mary are back on your feet, but I think they just really needed to go out.”

“Meh, good for them,” I say with a smile. “As long as Krystie’s not too hungover tomorrow!” Keith giggles, before his gorgeous brown eyes stare deeply into mine.

“I just wanted to make sure that you were okay,” Keith says softly. “When Charlotte said how you were almost bedridden, I- I felt really, really bad…”

“Why on Earth would you feel bad?” I half-giggle. “It’s not like you did the operation yourself…” This time, it’s Keith’s turn to giggle.

“I know, it’s just… I miss you at home,” Keith sighs. “When I moved in, it was me moving into Charlotte & Jamie’s home, and I still see it as Charlotte & Jamie’s home. And you’ve got that huge bedroom with nothing in it…”

“I know,” I whisper. “I do want to move back in, but… I wouldn’t be the same. Not between me and Charlotte, and certainly not between you and me, given what we nearly did last year.”

“I understand,” Keith sighs. “You know you’re by miles the closest female friend I’ve ever had, besides Charlotte, right?”

“’Female’ with an asterisk, right?” I joke.

“Shit no,” Keith says dismissively. “I’ve only ever seen you as a woman. Yes, when I ‘found out’, it came as a bit- okay, a LOT of a surprise, but regardless of what you have- or had- between your legs, as far as I’m concerned, you’ve only ever been a girl.” Much to my surprise, Keith then leans in and gently kisses me on my lips, before blushing beautifully and standing up.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll see you later, Jamie.” Keith mumbles, leaving the room.

“See you round, Keith,” I sigh, slumping back onto my bed.

“Nice lad,” dad says, letting himself into my room and sitting in the spot Keith had only just left. “I do wish you’d find yourself a nice guy like him.”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “So do I…”

After another early night, I wake up on Friday morning and run through my morning routine, dressing in a comfortable long-sleeved white cotton bodysuit and a loose, knee-length black skirt. The bodysuit is tight around my torso, but long enough to not be uncomfortable around my tender ‘area’ even when wearing a pad, and it has a snap crotch in case it gets uncomfortable, or I need to dilate.

In fact, it’s in the middle of my second dilating session when I hear a knock on my bedroom door, and Krystie lets herself in, carrying a ‘first aid kit’ and dressed (predictably) in her nurse’s costume, but with pink ballet tights underneath instead of the black stockings the costume is normally worn with.

“Hi Jamie!” Krystie says excitedly as I flip my skirt over my legs to disguise the tube that's currently sticking out of my vagina.

“Hi Krys!” I say, slightly embarrassed at having been ‘caught out’. “I, um, wasn’t expecting you until a bit later?”

“I can tell,” Krystie teases, staring at the unfortunate bulge the dilator is creating in the front of my skirt.

“Bit of privacy, please?” I ask. Krystie giggles and turns around as I raise my skirt again.

“How often do you have to do that, anyway?” Krystie asks.

“Four times a day,” I sigh sadly. “At least at first.”

“Can I see it?” Krystie asks.

“No you CAN’T,” I reply with a giggle.

“I didn’t mean your vagina,” Krystie sighs. “I mean- can I see the, um, you know…”

“The dilator?” I ask. “Ehh… I suppose it couldn’t hurt, as long as you don’t intend to use it!”

“Nah, got Paul for that,” Krystie giggles as I toss her one of the thin blue tubes. “How, um, how far in does it go?”

“Up to the black dot on the side,” I say.

“God,” Krystie exclaims. “That’s like… six, seven inches deep?”

“What were you expecting?” I ask, laughing at my friend’s surprise. “The whole point of the operation is to make it ‘useable’, after all.”

“I guess,” Krystie says, staring at the dilator in disbelief.

“And that’s not the biggest one,” I say smugly. “Couple of months from now I’m going to have to shove something one and a half times wider up there…”

“Ah, the ‘Jonathan’,” Krystie jokes, making us both giggle uncontrollably.

“You’re not entirely wrong!” I joke, removing my dilator, changing my pad and refastening my bodysuit. “Okay, you can turn around now.”

“Anything I can get you or ‘Paul’?” Krystie asks, referring to the slick blue tube in my hand.

“’Paul’ needs to clean off in a cup of hot water,” I say, standing up with my friend’s help. “And before you say anything, it’s lubricant, not, well, you know.”

“As if I’d have said anything!” Krystie jokes.

After a filling lunch which included yummy hot cross buns (and another dilating session), Krystie (who, like Hannah, had pulled one of my dresses over her nurse’s ‘uniform’ whilst downstairs) helps me back onto my bed.

“You know,” Krystie jokes, “if I didn’t have such a gorgeous boyfriend I’d be really jealous of you and young Miss Dexter…”

“Oh, we only made out once,” I joke as I get comfortable on my bed, smoothing my skirt over my bare legs.

“Who, me and you or me and Hannah?” Krystie asks.

“Both,” I say, sticking my tongue out at Krystie, who simply giggles. “And as I AM laid up in bed, I’m going to be really jealous of you and young Miss Hutchinson having a big night out yesterday…”

“Oh, we didn’t stay out late,” Krystie sighs. “It’s not as much fun without the rest of the girls.” I pout expectantly at Krystie, who simply rolls her eyes and giggles.

“…ESPECIALLY you,” Krystie says, making me giggle happily.

“Aren’t you going to tell me what’s in your first aid kit, then? Hannah kind-of ‘covered’ me yesterday…” I display my glittery nails to Krystie, who coos approvingly.

“What I’ve got in my kit is far more important in emergencies than nail polish,” Krystie giggles, opening her first aid kit to reveal her own satin pointe shoes. Much to my surprise, Krystie then ties the pointe shoes to her feet and proceeds to mince around my room en pointe, pirouetting and piquing as I happily applaud.

“I figured since I’m not going to get any practice in today, I can multi-task,” Krystie explains, stretching her leg on my chest of drawers in lieu of a barre. “And it’ll help encourage you to get back on your feet, so you can get back on your toes!”

“Trust me, I don’t need any more encouragement there,” I sigh happily. “I was back at ballet less than a week after having my tits done, even though I couldn’t raise my arms higher than my shoulders.”

“You really are an inspiration,” Krystie muses, sitting down on the edge of my bed. “And not just to transgendered people- though there are a few girls in my classes who’d definitely agree- but to us, um, ‘always-been’ girls too.”

“I’m not an inspiration,” I sigh. “I’m just… trying to live my life the way I feel most comfortable.”

“’Major surgery to the genitals’ isn’t my idea of comfortable!” Krystie jokes.

“Maybe not,” I concede, “but ‘having a vagina’ is!”

“No argument here!” Krystie says happily.

As with Hannah yesterday, Krystie sticks around for dinner but departs shortly afterward. After being helped back to my bedroom, I stand in front of my vast wardrobe for a while, staring wistfully at my tiny clubbing dresses. I HATE being cooped up inside, even though I know it’s for my own good. Friday nights should be spent out with the girls, not in my bedroom by myself. Deciding that I'd be better off looking for some company- even if it is virtual- I pick up my iPad and open up Facebook. Much to my delight, Charlotte's online, so I fire off a quick message.

‘Hey bestie,’ I type with a wicked grin on my face.

‘Hey Jay!’ Charlotte replies.

'Missed you the last couple of days,' I type.

'Yeah,' Charlotte replies. 'Sorry, been busy with work, also been helping Keith around the house.' I smile wickedly, spotting- or at least hoping I've spotted- the euphemism.

‘Soooo?’ I type.

‘Soooo… what?’ Charlotte replies.

‘Having trouble sitting?’ I type with a winking smiley.

‘I don’t know what you could possibly mean,’ Charlotte replies.

‘You didn’t back out of it, did you?’ I ask, slightly disappointed but understanding Charlotte’s decision.

‘Back out of it? No…’ Charlotte types. ‘Back INTO it?’ Charlotte sends a sticking out tongue smiley and I giggle excitedly.

‘OMG!’ I reply. ‘You little slut!’ I send another winking smiley to let Charlotte know I’m joking when I call her a ‘slut’. The sticking out tongue smiley I get in return lets me know no offence was taken.

‘I took your advice,’ Charlotte types. ‘I relaxed, let myself enjoy it… I may have ‘helped myself along a little’ but I’m DEFINITELY doing it again. Provided Keith stops being so squeamish about it!’

‘Lol!’ I type. ‘Did you go protected?’

‘Nah,’ Charlotte replies, making me giggle. ‘Kinda regret that… Keith was in the shower for 10 minutes afterwards trying to get clean!’

‘Lol!’ I type.

‘Gotta go now, Keith’s got a ‘special project’ he needs help with. And no, it's nothing to do with THAT, you dirty minded woman! Ttyl, bestie!’ Charlotte signs out of Facebook, leaving me alone on my bed- but with a broad, happy smile on my face.

I lower myself into a prone position and take a deep, relaxing breath when, as with last night, I’m interrupted by a knock on my bedroom door.

“Yet another gentleman caller,” dad jokes as Stuart lets himself into my bedroom.

“Hey Jamie,” Stuart says, beaming a cute, lop-sided smile.

“Hi Stu,” I say, perking up at the sight of my favourite transman.

“I just thought I’d drop round,” Stuart explains. “Thought I’d, you know, see how you were doing…”

“If you missed me, you can always just say,” I joke. “Though I thought you’d be busy with work all week?”

“Project’s going a lot faster than expected,” Stuart explains. “The songs don’t really need that much editing… And yes, I did miss you.” I giggle at the (admittedly forced) admission.

“I missed you too,” I say quietly.

“Even though it’s only been three days?” Stuart asks with a chuckle.

“Well…” I say, pausing briefly before we both break down in another giggling fit.

We spend the next two hours talking about nonsense- trivial stuff like Jonathan & Viks, Krystie & Paul, the – for want of a better way of putting it- ins and outs of my dilation regime, Stuart’s sister and Krystie’s brother (who are still an item). Stuart sticks around until 9:30pm, and I find myself desperate for him to stay longer.

“Thank you,” I whisper to Stuart as he leaves. “Thank you so much, and not just for tonight, not just for helping me decide to have this surgery, but for everything. Thank you… For being you.”

“No,” Stuart says with a smile. “Thank YOU for being YOU. See you soon, Jamie.” Stuart shuts the door and leaves me to slump back onto my bed.

“I- I love you,” I whisper, closing my eyes against the darkness of my room.

I just about manage to muster up the strength to dilate one last time and change into my nightie to climb into bed, before waking up on the Saturday morning at 7:30am, same as every other day. After my morning routine, I change into another comfortable bodysuit, only this time a sleeveless black one, before pulling on a short dark blue dress with a floral pattern on it. I’m barely back on my bed when my bedroom door knocks, and a familiar dark-haired girl enters my room, followed by her (very!) familiar dark-skinned boyfriend.

“Hi!” Viks gushes, giving me a gentle hug. Thankfully, she ISN’T dressed in a nurse’s uniform, nor is she toting a ‘first aid kit’!

“Hi Jamie!” Jonathan says, wrapping an arm around Viks’s waist. “You get two for the price of one today!”

“I get the impression ‘just one’ wasn’t an option!” I giggle.

“Well… Not really,” Viks says. “Can I get you anything whilst I’m up?”

“Nope, I’m good,” I say. “Kinda got my little ‘woman cave’ set up here, got my magazines, my cosmetics, my iPad and my Xbox… Only real thing I don’t have in here permanently is a friend to share it all with!”

“Now THAT I can provide!” Viks giggles, sitting next to me on my bed and immediately playing with my hair.

“Did you both have fun at church yesterday?” I ask.

“It was okay,” Jonathan says. “It was church, you know? Old guy in a white robe talking about Jesus… Just thankful we got out of there by 11.”

“Aww, you could’ve dropped round after all,” I say. “Krystie didn’t get here yesterday much after 10.”

“Well it was Krystie who wanted to swap,” Viks explains as she ties my long blonde hair into fun braids. “Said she had an appointment or something.”

“Really?” I ask. “She didn’t mention anything yesterday…”

“Said it was something personal,” Viks continues. “You didn’t hear this from me, but she MIGHT be planning a surprise for you tomorrow…”

“Okay,” I reply with a grin. “Surprises are always good, provided it fits in this one room, of course!”

“I’m sure it will,” Viks says, before noticing her boyfriend standing around awkwardly. “Yes, Jonathan, I’m sure Jamie won’t mind you switching on her Xbox.”

“It’s fine,” I say with a grin, before pulling one of my dilators out of my drawer. “Though you will have to pause it in about half an hour whilst I do something I WOULDN’T get away with in church!” Viks and I giggle as Jonathan stares uncomfortably at the thin tube in my hand.

The day with Jonathan and Viks passes as it always does, with us gossiping, gaming and having fun. Viks isn’t my closest friend from the ‘Angels’- in fact, I probably know her least well out of the five girls- but I do love spending time with her. When it’s both her and Jonathan, though, I can’t help but feel like a third wheel in my own bedroom- and a part of me is actually glad when they depart just after 5pm. Before they go, I ask Jonathan to carry me downstairs to my sofa, where- despite my parents’ protests- I spend the rest of the evening.

“That can’t be as comfortable as your bed,” dad argues.

“You’d be surprised,” I sigh. “Surprised I haven’t developed bedsores yet. And it’s not like I’m running a marathon or dancing the nutcracker…”

“Okay, fine,” dad concedes. “Just expect an ‘I told you so’ if you hurt yourself…”

“Followed by massive helpings of fatherly sympathy, I trust?” I retort, making dad rolls his eyes.

“Yes, of course,” dad says. “I want to see you back on your feet just as much as you do, but not until you’re ready! Try to remember that you’re still healing, um, ‘down there’.”

“Believe me, it’s not exactly easy to forget,” I sigh.

“How are you feeling, Jamie?” Mum asks, sitting down next to dad.

“Still sore,” I sigh. “But more frustrated than anything.”

“You’ll be back on your feet before you know it,” mum says with a warm smile.

“I know,” I say, getting comfortable on the sofa. “One thing’s for sure- when I see Krys tomorrow, I’m definitely asking for a ballet-themed party for my 23rd!”

“Assuming your friend Mary will be back on her feet by then,” dad says, making me sigh and playfully scream into a nearby cushion.

“Welcome to adult life!” Mum giggles at my frustration. “You’ll get over your operation soon, but Mary’s going to be raising a child for at least the next 18 years, and your other friends will undoubtedly become mothers too!”

“…And there’s nothing that says you won’t either!” Dad reminds me, also chuckling at my ‘mini-tantrum’.

“God, why can’t I just be nineteen again…?” I muse, before giggling along with my parents.

I laugh the night away with my parents before dad carries me back upstairs where I dilate and douche one last time before settling down for the night. Where Fridays are our usual girls’ nights out, Saturday’s have quickly become girls’ nights in- yet another tradition I’m missing.

I break yet another tradition by waking up on Sunday morning at 7:30am and not getting back in bed after my first bath/dilating session, instead pulling on a fresh cotton bra & panty set, a pink t-shirt and a loose, long skirt. Thankfully, Krystie shows up before 10am to help me alleviate my boredom- even if she isn’t dressed as a nurse today!

“It takes someone really, REALLY special to get this model out of bed before 9am on a Sunday,” Krystie pouts, before giggling and giving me a long, soft hug.

“No ‘first aid kit’ today?” I ask. “Viks said yesterday you were planning a surprise for me…”

“Oh, keep your knickers on!” Krystie jokes, before shooting me a sly wink. “You’ll see…”

“Okay, I’m REALLY curious now…” I pout.

“You’ll see, stop whining!” Krystie giggles.

“FINE,” I mock-sigh, before giggling along with my friend. “Get up to anything last night? God knows there’s only so much of my sofa and my parents I’m going to be able to take…”

“Just fooling around with Paul,” Krystie says with a grin. “We also dropped round Mary & Dan for some drinks. Figured that as we aren’t having proper girls’ nights in, we’d have a mini one anyway.”

“PLEASE tell me she’s told you the gender…” I plead.

“Well…” Krystie teases, before grinning widely. “You’re also godmother, so I’m sure she won’t mind me telling you, even though she DID want to tell you herself tomorrow.”

“Ooh, ooh, tell me!” I say excitedly, almost bouncing up and down despite my ‘soreness’.

“Just so we’re clear, this ISN’T the surprise,” Krystie says, drawing out the sentence as long as she possibly can.

“Come onnnnnnn!” I beg.

“Do you really need to ask?” Krystie says with a smug grin.

“YES!” I near-snap, making the tall girl giggle even more at my frustration.

“Oh come on,” Krystie laughs. “As if the first child of the Angels would be anything OTHER than a girl!”

“Yay!” I cheer, hugging Krystie. “Has she decided on a name yet?”

“She’s got one in mind,” Krystie says with a proud smile. “Kristina-Leigh, after both of her godmothers.” I gasp and clamp my hands to my face, such is the power of Mary’s gesture. Sure, I don’t use the ‘Lee’ part of my name all that often, but it is still part of my name.

“Oh my god,” I breathe, blinking back tears.

“So we’re going to have to be extra-great godmothers!” Krystie says, clearly emotional herself. “Think you can be the best Christian in the world?” I giggle as an alarm goes off on my phone and I reach into my drawer to retrieve my dilating kit.

“Not when I’m doing THIS,” I laugh, twirling the thin tube around in my fingers. Krystie giggles and leaves me in peace for fifteen minutes before I call her back into the room.

“No, stay in bed,” Krystie orders. “I’ll make sure ‘Paul’ gets clean!”

“Hehe,” I giggle. “Just so we’re clear, when I refer to the small one as ‘Paul’, I do of course mean ‘Gould’ and not ‘Kennedy’!”

“God,” Krystie moans. “It’s been, like, a year since you got rid of him! Move on!”

“Believe me, I’m trying,” I sigh. “Friday was actually a year since we split. And... It was him who got rid of me, not the other way round…”

“Pencil-dicked moron,” Krystie spits, returning into my bedroom with my cleaned and sterilised dilating kit.

“HIS loss,” I say smugly.

“Hell yeah!” Krystie cheers. “Now, I believe I promised you a surprise, right?”

“Finally!” I say, shifting around as I sit upright. “Sorry if I fidget a little, it’s kinda difficult finding a comfortable sitting position.”

“Oh, I know how you feel,” Krystie says smugly.

“Umm…” I mutter. “How, exactly, do you know how I’m feeling?”

“The ‘appointment’ I had yesterday?” Krystie says with a sparkle in her eyes. Much to my surprise, Krystie then hikes her tight black skirt up onto her hips, revealing her lack of panties- and a small metal bar poking through her clitoris.

"Oh my god," I state, staring a little too long at Krystie's vagina.

"Call me silly," Krystie says with a smile, "but I've always wanted to have it done, and I figured you've dolled up your crotch..."

"Bit of an understatement!" I retort, making Krystie giggle (and, thankfully, lower her skirt). "Did it hurt?"

"Imagine the absolute worst pain you've ever experienced," Krystie says with a kinky smile. "Then five seconds later, the pain goes, and you get a warm, glowing feeling down there."

"Think I'll pass," I say. "At least until I've had my stitches removed!"

"How long will you have to wait for that?" Krystie asks.

"At least a month," I sigh. "But the scarring and the swelling will stick around for ages afterwards..."

"Ca- no, no," Krystie says, shaking her head. "I'm not going to ask to see it, it wouldn't be fair..."

"What, 'I'll show you mine and you'll show me yours'?" I ask, making Krystie roll her eyes and nod.

"I honestly don't mind," I say softly. "It'd actually be nice to get another girl's opinion..."

"ONLY if you're sure," Krystie says. I smile and nod, before hiking up my skirt and lowering my panties, shivering a little as the cool air of the room touches my vagina.

"Oh my god," Krystie whispers softly. "I- I'm sorry," Krystie blinks back tears as I gently raise my panties and lower my skirt.

"Are you okay?" I ask, concerned by my friend's sudden emotion.

"It's just- it's- it's just a normal vagina," Krystie says, before giving me a gentle hug.

"That is the whole point of the operation!" I giggle.

"I mean yes, it's got a mass of stitches around it, and it looks all pink and sensitive, but- it's just a vagina..."

"JUST a vagina?" I ask, making Krystie giggle.

"Okay," Krystie concedes. "It's an AWESOME vagina. It's the queen vagina, the Regina of vaginas!"

"Better!" I smirk, giving my friend a long, soft hug.

Krystie hangs around until after dinner (during which she manages to extort an Easter Egg out of my parents), and throughout the day I keep finding myself staring at her crotch- a constant reminder that I’m not the only one who has a ‘designer vagina’! After Krystie leaves, I settle down for a quiet night when, yet again, I hear a knocking on my front door, and seconds later, Stuart makes his way into my bedroom.

“Hey Stuart,” I say as a massive grin involuntarily spreads across my face.

“Hi Jamie!” My favourite transman replies, sitting down next to me on my bed. “Feeling any better?”

“A little better every day,” I say with a smile. “Got an appointment with my specialist on Tuesday, they’ll let me know how things are going then.”

“Is that your SRS specialist or a gynaecologist?” Stuart asks.

“Think they fill both roles,” I answer.

“Good,” Stuart says, nodding. “Mine does too, when I started transitioning I had to attend a separate gynaecologist. THAT was a hell of a thing to try to explain…” I giggle at the thought of Stuart- who, despite his 5’ 7” height and slender build, is one of the most masculine-looking guys I know- sitting in a waiting room filled with judgemental middle-aged women.

“You ever regret transitioning?” I ask softly. Stuart simply shakes his head.

“Best decision I ever made,” Stuart says with a grin. “Being a girl… It’s not for everyone, and it most definitely isn’t for me.”

“Good,” I say. “I’ll happy take over your ‘girl slot’ then!” Stuart grimaces slightly at my choice of words.

“Can we not say ‘slot’, please?” Stuart asks. “Kinda a sensitive area for me…” I smile sadly at the attractive young man’s discomfort.

“It’s… not exactly the picture of comfort for me either, right now!” I joke, making Stuart chuckle. “OR for Krystie…”

“Oh?” Stuart asks. “Do tell…”

“Let’s just say she showed up here today with a sharp piece of metal poking out of somewhere other than her ears, her nose or her navel…” I teases, making Stuart giggle excitedly.

“You’re kidding!” Stuart laughs.

“Nope!” I beam, making Stuart sigh happily. A brief pause fills the room as we catch each other’s gaze. Slowly, our heads lean in towards each other and we kiss, a soft, loving kiss that seems to last an eternity.

“I-“ Stuart stutters, breaking away from the kiss. “I- I’m sorry Jamie, you’re vulnerable right now, I got carried away, I sh-“

“Shut up, please?” I say with a smile, pulling Stuart’s head back towards me and kissing him again, a deeper, passionate kiss. I close my eyes as my tongue explores Stuart’s mouth as deeply as his tongue explores mine. I shiver as one of Stuart's expert hands find their way under my t-shirt and bra, gently massaging my hardening nipples. Instinctively, I reach into Stuart's trousers to 'return the favour', but he suddenly cuts me off.

"It's... Not pretty down there," Stuart says sadly. Smiling, I turn myself so my crotch is facing Stuart, and hike up my skirt whilst lowering my panties, just as I had earlier with Krystie.

"It's probably prettier than this!" I joke, shocking even myself by how comfortable I feel showing my vagina to Stuart. Still wearing his sad smile, Stuart removes his jeans, followed by his boxer shorts, allowing me to see his private area for the first time- and I will confess to being a little shocked. There, as Stuart alluded to earlier, is his 'slot'- his vaginal lips, similar in appearance to my own. Above his vagina is his clitoris- and that is what is most shocking. Rather than the small flap of flesh tucked between my own vaginal lips, his is much, much bigger- almost two inches long, and slightly thicker than the average pencil. It actually resembles a small penis.

"Pretty?" I ask. "I think it's SEXY." Stuart and I share a wide smile as we kiss each other deeply one more time, and I gently stroke his clitoris with one finger, making him shudder and moan into my mouth.

"Oh god," Stuart mumbles.

"Do- do you want me to stop?" I ask.

"HELL no," Stuart gasps. I grin and stroke his clitoris with a second finger, increasing the pressure gradually until Stuart loses the ability to kiss me and gasps into my mouth, before collapsing back onto my bed. As I lay back down next to Stuart, utterly drained despite the short duration of our 'encounter', I turn my head and stare at the heavily panting young man.

“I really do love you, you know,” I whisper. “It doesn’t matter what you’ve got down there, it’s what’s here-“ I gently place a hand on Stuart’s muscular chest “-that counts.”

“I- I love you too, Jamie,” Stuart whispers, making my heart melt. “You’re probably the best friend I’ve ever had… Who says sex destroys friendships, anyway?”

“People who are WRONG,” I say, giggling as I kiss Stuart yet again- giggles that only intensify as Stuart, despite himself, giggles into my mouth!

We spend the rest of the evening in bed, kissing and cuddling, gossiping about our friends, our families, discussing the future of our budding relationship. Stuart departs at around 10:30pm, and I can tell he’s just as reluctant to leave my bed as I am to see him go. Ever since Paris, I’ve fallen a little more in love with Stuart every day, and now that we’re in a full-fledged relationship- now that I’ve ‘tested the waters’- I only find myself desiring him more. I never ever dreamed I’d be able to find a boyfriend with whom I can laugh as much as (and at the same time as) I orgasm. Stuart is the only thing on my mind as I lay my head down on my pillow and slowly drift off to sleep…

"Hey Jamie!" Stuart says, poking his head around my bedroom door.

"Hi Stu!" I say, arranging myself into a seating position, before standing up and allowing my loose dress to fall to the floor. Almost instantly, Stuart is naked too, his long, glistening penis standing fully erect as he kisses me deeply. I allow any resistance to leave my body as Stuart lowers my naked form onto my bed, his penis slowly forcing my vagina open...

My alarm snaps me out of my dream and I wake up panting heavily, my sheets covered in sweat. I throw back the covers and take a mirror from my nightstand, inspecting my lady parts for any damage- fortunately, everything looks intact, but the feeling I got from that dream… Was powerful. It was hardly the first erotic dream I’ve ever had, obviously, but still…

For my morning routine, I run a slightly colder sitz bath than normal, hoping it’ll cool down some of the ‘excitement’ I’m feeling about Stuart. I also apply a full face of make-up for the first time in what feels like years, and it feels- not to mention looks- SO good once it’s on. I pull on a comfortable white short-sleeved bodysuit, followed by black tights (the bruising on my thighs is fading fast, but still a little too noticeable for my liking) and a clingy black skirt. My legs are still too wobbly for heels so I slip my feet into a pair of cute black flats. After retouching my glittery red nails, tying my hair back into a ponytail and putting on my favourite jewellery, I grab my handbag and slowly hobble downstairs.

“Oh for god’s sake!” Dad exclaims as I slowly lower myself onto the sofa. “Why are you wearing shoes? And make-up? You’re not planning on going outside, are you?”

"I've been cooped up either in here or in hospital for two weeks," I complain. "It's not like I'm jetting off to America or anything, I'm just getting some fresh air."

"We'll open a window," dad snorts.

"Besides, it's been two weeks," I explain. "Two weeks of filming that I haven't taken part in..."

"Okay," dad sighs, knowing that I know his extreme dislike of being on camera trumps his paternal instinct. "Have fun with Mary and Dan."

Sure enough, my Irish friend and her husband show up less than half an hour later with a camera crew in tow.

"Hey, beautiful woman!" Mary says, giving me a big hug. "Your public awaits!"

"Ugh, knew I couldn't put this off any longer," I moan, following Mary and Dan out into my front garden where we almost immediately have a camera shoved in our face.

"Two weeks," Mary says with a smile. "How is everything, you know, 'down there'?"

"Two weeks and a day," I say. "And it's still healing, but it's looking a damn sight better than it did a week ago!"

"No more bleeding?" Mary asks.

"No, thank god," I reply. "That's the one feminine experience I'm spared!"

"Ugh, lucky you," Mary says with a sly smirk.

"Anyway," I say with a wide grin, "more importantly, am I going to find out if all the 'girl rays' I've been shooting into my godchild worked or not?" Mary giggles as I turn around and rub her expanding belly.

"Did you really think the poor kid stood a chance?" Dan jokes. "Of course it's a girl!" I make a show of pretending I don't know, hugging both Dan and Mary before we continue our walk.

"Have you thought of any names?" I ask.

"We were thinking of naming it after Dan's mum," Mary says. "Angela- seems appropriate somehow!"

"Oh," I say, somewhat disappointed given Krystie's news of the name yesterday. Within seconds, though, Mary & Dan's giggling give away the fact that they're not being entirely honest with me.

"At least, that'll be her middle name," Dan says. "How attached are you to the 'Lee' part of your first name again?"

"Well it's on my driving licence, my passport..." I explain.

"So if we were to call the baby, say, 'Kristina-Leigh'...?" Mary teases, and even though I knew it was coming, I almost break down in tears at the gesture.

"Oh my god, Mary!" I blub, giving my friend a long, gentle hug. "It's- it's such an honour! Thank you so much!" I don't even try to act, as I don't need to- the look in Mary's and Dan's eyes is one of pure love for me, for everything I've done for them over the years.

"She is going to be the luckiest girl in the world," Mary gushes. "Krystie's already signed her up for her toddler class, even though she won't be able to start until she's 2!"

"She's going to be the luckiest girl in the world," I say smugly, "because she'll have the best parents in the world."

"And the best five aunts in the world," Dan says with a warm smile, leading Mary and myself down the road arm in arm.

"Aren't you wearing the costume today?" I ask Dan, making Mary nearly wet herself laughing!

We're only out of the house for forty minutes, thanks to my dilating schedule taking over my life, but even that amount of fresh air is like a holiday from being cooped up in my room.- which is where Dan carries me back to the second we return to the house. After I dilate in privacy, I sit in front of the camera for half an hour, answering a few questions the producers had prepared for me, before Mary, Dan and myself return to my room where we while away the day gossiping, free from the prying eyes of Joshua's film crews. I just about manage to hobble downstairs at 6pm, where I see Mary & Dan off with big hugs each.

"You guys seriously have a babysitter for life," I giggle as my friends depart.

"Kinda goes with the whole 'godmother' territory!" Dan jokes. After my friends leave, I grab my iPad and relax on the sofa.

"Godmother to a celebrity baby?" Dad asks with a proud smile. "As if I didn't have enough reasons to be proud of you..." I giggle at my father's unexpected compliment and open up Facebook, looking through my unread messages. I am, of course, looking for any messages Stuart left me, but the topmost message on the page almost causes the blood to drain from my body.

'Hi Jamie,' the message reads. 'Hope you're recovering well. My best, Paul Gould.' I stare at the message for almost five minutes, occasionally starting to type a reply but never sending or even finishing any messages to the man with whom I shared my body for over year, but haven't had any contact from in the same amount of time. In the end, I simply delete the message. Paul's given me 368 days of silence, he deserves nothing less than that himself. And I've moved on to someone much, much better... Haven't I?

After I delete Paul's message, I move onto the messages Stuart left for me over the day.

'Morning beautiful,' the first one reads.

'Tell Dan if he wears the costume again, we're revoking his 'boy card,' says the next one, making me giggle.

'Hope you're having fun with Dan & Mary... I'll leave you in peace, message me back when you get the chance,' the penultimate one reads.

'Riley and Becca are getting on my pecs, btw,' the last message reads. 'If you message me later and I reply in gibberish, it's their fault.' I laugh out loud at Stuart's final message and compose a reply.

'I'm sorry, 'getting on my pecs'?' I type.

'Bweiopahshfuwe,' Stuart near-immediately replies, making me almost wet myself laughing.

'Want to try that again?' I type.

'You don't know lucky you are you're an only child,' Stuart replies. 'And as for 'getting on my pecs', I can hardly say 'getting my tits' now, can I?' I reply with a string of smileys for the boy who never fails to make me smile.

'I really missed you today,' I type. 'Even though I had great company in Mary & Dan.'

'We only saw each other less than 24 hours ago,' Stuart types. 'Is that really enough time to start missing each other?'

'It is when we're a new couple xxxx,' I reply.

'xxxx,' Stuart replies. 'Though we're not REALLY a couple, not until we put it on Facebook anyway...'

'Fuck Facebook,' I type.

'...Types the girl USING Facebook!' Stuart retorts.

'If you want to put it on Facebook, be my guest!' I type.

'No no,' Stuart replies. 'Ladies first!' I smile happily as I compose my reply.

'Doing anything tomorrow?' I ask.

'Only work,' Stuart replies. 'Which I got a ton of done today, when I wasn't being plagued by my sister & her boyfriend's seemingly never-ending game of kiss chase, anyway.'

'Want to hang out, after my appointment?' I ask.

'Isn’t it Charlotte's turn to 'nurse' you tomorrow?' Stuart asks. 'I know Keith says she's been getting antsy as she hasn't seen you in a week...'

'There's more than enough of me to go around,' I type with a smile. 'Double coffee date at my house?'

'Sounds perfect,' Stuart replies. 'See you then. Love you! xxxx'

'Love you too xxxx,' I reply as Stuart goes offline.

I eventually make my way back upstairs where I finish off my 'vaginal care' routine for the day and climb under my bed sheets, quickly drifting off to sleep, where once again, I dream about my naked body being taken by the man of my dreams, only when I open my eyes and look into his face, it isn't Stuart I see, but Paul Gould...

"Aah!" I yelp, waking up from the dream that quickly took a turn for the worse- and yet, as I calm down, I find that the more I remember the dream, the more I enjoyed being taken by Paul...

For what feels like the millionth day in a row, I drag myself out of bed at 7:30 to run through my morning routine. These seemingly endless consecutive early mornings are taking a toll on my already weakened body, but I can’t miss my doctor’s appointment today, so I cover up my tiredness with a thick layer of make-up before picking out my outfit for the day. After putting on a brand new black bra and panty set, I pull a light, knee-length dress over my head. The dress is black but has a playful decorative pattern on it in black stitching, and had wide shoulder straps that cover my bra. My bruising had faded to the point where it’s barely noticeable, so I skip tights, and slip my feet into a pair of wedges with a 1 ½ inch heel- the first non-flat shoes I’ve worn since my operation, and they feel almost like ballet boots. I take the wedges off walking downstairs but put them back on once I’m on my sofa.

“Are you sure you’re ready for heels, Jamie?” Mum asks as I carefully stretch myself out.

“They’re tiny!” I reply, only barely convincing myself.

“You’re unsteady on your feet in flats!” Mum argues. “I know your dad may come across as overprotective, but he really does have a point- you shouldn’t push yourself too hard, too soon. Your friends will be here for you as long as you need them, you know that, and if the camera crew don’t get enough footage of you, well, that’s their problem, isn’t it?”

“It also becomes MY problem if my public profile fades…” I moan.

“Says the girl who spends hours each day replying to messages on her social websites!” Mum giggles. “Jamie… You really are an inspiration to a lot of people. People who don’t mind waiting for you to get better.”

“Thanks,” I say with a smile, relaxing onto the sofa. I barely have time to get comfortable when my doorbell rings and I find myself wrapped in a massive hug from my BFF.

“Jamie Jamie Jamie Jamie!” Charlotte squeaks, cuddling me close to her body. “I haven’t seen you in a week! You look SO much better than you did last week!”

“Thanks!” I squeak, happily returning Charlotte’s hug.

“You really do look so much better,” Keith says, giving me a brief hug of his own. “Come on outside, I’ve got a little surprise…” I step outside- assisted by Charlotte- and immediately breakdown into a fit of giggles when I see the car my friends drove here in.

Instead of Keith’s sleek Toyota, the car on the street outside my house is- or rather, was- a black London cab. I say ‘was’ as it’s now a fuchsia pink colour, and has caricatures of all the Angels painted on the door!

“Behold,” Charlotte says. “The Angelmobile!”

“I love it!” I gush. “This is so awesome! Did Joshua buy this?”

“Nope,” Keith says smugly. “All my idea. I figure if it’s good enough for Stephen Fry…”

“This is so cool!” I gush, giving Keith another hug.

“Come on, stand next to your picture!” Charlotte says, getting out her phone to take a picture.

“Umm…” I giggle. “Which one’s you and which one’s me again?”

“I told you!” Charlotte chides her boyfriend, who simply shrugs.

“I think Jamie’s 4th from left,” Keith says. Smiling, I crouch down as far as my body will allow and smile as Charlotte takes photo after photo of me next to my (highly flattering!) portrait.

“Come on,” Charlotte says, helping me into the back of the cab. “We’ve got extra soft seats in the back, especially so you don’t feel, you know, ‘uncomfortable’.”

“And I trust we’re not going anywhere near any speed bumps?” I ask, sitting down and fastening my seatbelt.

“Of course,” Keith says, getting in the driver’s seat and adopting a very stereotypical cockney accent. “Where to, loves?”

“Doctor’s clinic, please,” I answer in as posh an accent as I can manage.

“God, I’ve missed you this last week,” Charlotte sighs, resting her head on my shoulder.

“You knew where I was,” I joke. “Where were you anyway, work?”

“Work, and getting this car fixed up,” Charlotte explains. “Actually fixed a bit of the engine myself!”

“I assume by that you mean ‘tinkered with the engine a little and had a photoshoot of you in greasy overalls’?” I tease.

“You know me so well,” Charlotte sighs. “And I’m well aware it was my fault I didn’t see you this last week. That’s why I may have started taking driving lessons!”

“Oh my god!” I squeak. “That’s so cool!”

“Yeah,” Charlotte says smugly. “Well, I’m the only Angel who DOESN’T have a driving licence, despite the fact that I have a boyfriend who loves chauffeuring me around everywhere!”

“Most of the time,” Keith interjects.

“Figured it was just time I grew up,” Charlotte says. “Just wait until I pass my test, there’ll be no getting rid of me!” I giggle and give my BFF a quick hug as we speed off into the centre of London.

When I arrive at the posh clinic, I’m unsurprised to find the film crew already there (though obviously, they WON’T be in the actual examination room). Much to my delight, my counsellor is also present, who greets me with a quick hug.

“Jamie!” Beverly says happily. “You’re looking great! Are you feeling okay now you’re back on your feet?”

“Much, much better than okay,” I say, blinking tears out of my eyes. “Yes, it’s still sore and stitched up like a ratty old pair of jeans, but I’m so, so glad I had it done.”

“I’m so pleased for you,” Beverly says. “Are you still okay to see me tomorrow?”

“Of course!” I say happily, giving the middle-aged woman another hug before heading into my appointment, Charlotte tagging along for moral support.

The ‘examination’ is a thoroughly unpleasant experience at first, not helped by the fact the area being examined is still stitched, swollen and sore. Fortunately, Charlotte holds my hand throughout the experience, and before too long, the examination is over and I’m free to pull my panties up and head home.

“I just need to use the loo,” Charlotte announces, leaving me alone with Keith in the spacious waiting area (the camera crew have also gone home, having captured all the footage they need).

“I LOVE the Angelmobile,” I say with a wide smile.

“Thanks,” Keith replies. “I know I’m always going to be playing second fiddle to Charlie in this relationship, I figure I can either whine and sulk about it like Hannah’s ex, or I can, you know, do something productive.”

“Speaking of exes...” I say, taking a deep breath. “I got a message from Paul Gould the other day.” I giggle as Keith sighs and rolls his eyes.

“What does that idiot want?” The tall man asks.

“He just wanted to say ‘get well soon’,” I reply. “Bit of an impersonal message after not speaking to me for over a year, but hey ho.”

“What did you say back to him?” Keith asks, clearly concerned.

“Nothing,” I say smugly. “Nothing at all.”

“Good on you!” Keith enthuses, squeezing my hand for support. “You don’t need him, Jamie. I know you’ll find someone worthy of you soon.”

“I, um, kinda already have,” I say with a smile, which fades when Keith suddenly pulls his hand away from mine and stares at me with what can only be described as disappointment in his eyes.

“Who?” Keith asks.

“Mister Milton,” I answer dreamily. Keith smiles at the revelation, but I can’t help but detect a twinge of sadness in his smile.

“At least I can be sure he’ll make you happy,” Keith says. “Though if he ever hurts you, you let me know and I’ll hurt him!”

“Hehe,” I giggle. “Is that not politically incorrect?”

“He’s the one who chose to be a man,” Keith states. “If he treats you wrong, he knows the consequences!” I giggle and give Keith a quick hug as Charlotte returns from the restroom.

“Has something happened I need to know about?” Charlotte asks.

“Other than Jamie getting a new boyfriend? Not really…” Keith jokes, earning himself a playful elbow in the ribs.

“Oh my god!” Charlotte squeaks, giving me a big hug. “Who? No, wait, don’t tell me, let me guess- Stuart, right?” I smile and nod, earning another hug from Charlotte. “I KNEW you two were perfect for each other!”

“He’s gonna be meeting us at home,” I say happily. “Figured we’d have a double coffee date?”

“Screw that!” Charlotte exclaims. “Keith, give him a call, we’ll pick him up and go somewhere for lunch!” Keith dutifully obeys, calling my favourite transman as I try to calm Charlotte down.

“I, um, need to go home to dilate,” I whisper to Charlotte, whose eyes go wide.

“Oh god,” my BFF says. “Sorry! You know I kinda get carried away, and this is big news…”

“No, believe me, I want to go out just as badly as you do…” I moan.

“Then go home, do your thing and we’ll all go out for a late lunch!” Charlotte insists. Knowing that I’m not going to win this argument, I roll my eyes and nod.

Sure enough, we pick up Stuart on the way home, and I delight my excited BFF by making out with Stuart all the way home! After announcing my new relationship status to my parents- who are thrilled, as they’ve always liked Stuart- we take the ‘next step’ and update Facebook, gaining well over a hundred likes each in the space of a few minutes, especially after I make a point of typing ‘for real this time’ in the comments. Unsurprisingly, Hannah was the first to ‘like’ that comment! After I dilate- which I allow Stuart to be present for, a decision the squeamish boy quickly regrets- the four of us head to a posh bistro in the centre of London for lunch.

“This is so great,” Charlotte sighs happily. “The four of us out like this…”

“It is,” Stuart agrees, gently squeezing my hand. “I’m so glad I met you. ALL of you, but especially my favourite girl!” I can’t help but grin and give Stuart a quick kiss. “That’s why today, I made an appointment with a doctor.”

“Umm… What?” I ask.

“Is- is this what I think it is?” Keith asks with a happy grin on his face.

“His waiting list is eighteen months,” Stuart explains. “But like I told Jamie, if I never have it done, I’ll live my life always wanting to have it done.” I gasp and clamp my hands to my mouth as I realise what Stuart’s saying.

“Oh my god!” I exclaim. “Are- are you-“

“-Are you…” Charlotte continues. “Are- are you having a penis grafted onto you?”

“The technical term is ‘phalloplasty’,” Stuart says smugly. “And yes, yes I am.” I can’t help but squeak happily and tightly hug my new boyfriend.

“This is co cool,” Keith says. “You’re finally gonna be who you always wanted to be. Both of you.”

“And you’re gonna be who you wanted to be together!” Charlotte beams.

And we are. Five years ago I’d never have dreamed that one day I’d have surgery to turn me into an anatomical female, yet here I sit now, and I can’t imagine my life taking any other direction. Everything about me feels so right, especially the fingers that are linked with those of a man I truly, truly love. He’s gonna need my support over the next 2 years as he embarks on his special journey, just as I needed his support on mine, but anything he needs, I’ll happily provide. I’m so blessed that I have everything I want in my life. I have Stuart. I have my vagina. I have my BFF, my other friends, and a family who loves me.

And yet, as I stare across the table at Keith, and I remember the message I received from Paul I can’t help but wonder about what I might have had instead…

“Godddd…” I moan as I prop myself up on my elbows on a towel on the floor of the converted London taxi. “Why does it have to take this long?”

“It’ll take as long as it takes,” Hannah replies from the driver’s seat of the taxi.

“Not ‘that’,” I say. “I mean my damned dilation…” I stare down at the thick orange tube poking out of my vagina and sigh again.

“Do you want me to get you a pillow, or something?” Hannah asks.

“No, I’ll be fine,” I say, trying to sound at least SLIGHTLY grateful for the company. “I know I shouldn’t complain really, I mean, this is nothing compared to what Mary’s going through…”

After finishing my dilation, Hannah and I head back into the hospital waiting room, where the rest of the Angels- along with Keith and Stuart- are waiting for us. After greeting Stuart with a kiss, I sit down next to him and wearily rest my head on his shoulder.

“Any news?” I ask.

“Not a peep,” Krystie moans. “God… Why don’t they just C-section her and have done with it?”

“You know Mary would never accept the scar,” Charlotte sighs. “And she was dead set on having a natural birth…” As if on cue, the door to the maternity ward opens, and Dan walks out, pushing his still-heavily pregnant wife in a wheelchair.

“False alarm,” Dan says, shaking his head to mass groans.

“Don’t you fucking groan!” Mary snaps, rubbing her vast belly. “I want this thing out of me now!”

“Then induce!” Krystie pleads with her best friend.

“I don’t want to induce,” Mary moans as she’s wheeled back to her car. “Not yet, anyway…”

“Sooner or later, you’re going to have to make a choice,” Dan says tiredly.

“I know, I know,” Mary sighs. “Can- can we just go home, please?” Dan nods and drives the distressed girl back to their posh London flat, leaving the rest of us standing around aimlessly.

“We’d best get home as well,” Charlotte orders. Tiredly, all of us return to our respective rides- Keith drives Charlotte, Hannah and Viks home in the ‘Angelmobile’, whilst Stuart drives myself, Krystie and Nikki (the Angels’ new PA) to our respective homes in his car.

“Can you drop me at my studio please, Stu?” Krystie asks. “Now that I know I’m not going to be on ‘auntie’ duties I might as well set up for a lesson.”

“Can do,” Stuart says.

“I’ll let Sarah know it’s on tonight,” Nikki says, straightening her short pencil skirt and typing out a message on her phone. “Want me to post on the Facebook group?”

“Please,” Krystie replies.

“Ah, what would the girls do without you, Nikki?” Stuart jokes, making the 17 year old girl giggle and making me and Krystie roll our eyes.

“I know how to post a message on Facebook,” Krystie moans.

“Yes, but only on the rare occasion you know where your phone is,” Stuart retorts- and this time, I can’t help but let out a tiny giggle.

“You know, when I cleared out your desk, I actually found two old mobile phones in there?” Nikki says, making the whole car- even Krystie- laugh.

“What happened to them?” Krystie asks. “I trust you’re not stealing company property, Miss Thomas…”

“One of them was smashed to bits,” Nikki explains. “The other one had half a Mars bar melted into the adaptor socket, so I didn’t dare charge either of them up.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Krystie laughs.

“I guess I shouldn’t really complain about being back and forth to the hospital,” I muse as we drive along. “I mean, you were the same when I was in hospital in April, after all.”

“And I expect the same when I’m in hospital next October!” Stuart laughs.

“And me when… Well, whenever, I guess…” Nikki laughs, before her voice trails off sadly.

“Oh Nikki,” I begin. “Have you still not got a date?”

“No,” the young woman sighs. “I was aiming for after my first year of uni, but now that I’m not going to uni…”

“You’re not having second thoughts, are you?” I ask the girl I’m increasingly viewing as a protégé.

“No, definitely not,” Nikki confirms. “It’s just… A LOT of hassle.”

“Believe me,” I say with a smile on my face. “It’s well worth the hassle in the end.” Stuart smiles and squeezes my hand as we head home.

“Mum, dad, we’re home,” I call as I lead my boyfriend through my front door.

“Any news?” Dad asks, before seeing my companion. “Oh, hello Stuart!”

“Hi Mark,” Stuart replies, enthusiastically shaking my dad’s hand before sitting down next to me on the sofa.

“No ‘hi’ for your own daughter…” I joke, making dad roll his eyes.

“Hi Jamie,” dad mock-sighs with a smirk on his face. “And for the second time: any news?”

“No, another false alarm,” I sigh.

“God above,” dad exclaims. “How overdue is that baby now?”

“Five days,” Stuart answers. “And to answer your next question, no, she’s not inducing or having a C-section.”

“Don’t see why she’s being so stubborn,” dad moans. “Did you know Jamie was born by a Caesarean?”

“I think you may have told me before,” Stuart says, giving me a quick hug.

“Yeah, let’s just share all my personal details,” I joke as the two most important men in my life laugh at my expense.

“What have you two kids got planned for tonight?” Dad asks.

“Trying out a new Peruvian restaurant that’s opened in Westminster,” Stuart says.

“Ah,” dad says. “You and the rest of the Angels, or is this a hot date?”

“Hot date,” I say, feeling slightly embarrassed by the candid way my father is discussing my love life.

“I leave the door unlocked,” dad laughs.

“Speaking of, I’ve got to get home,” Stuart sighs, checking his watch. “Got some work to catch up on. See you tonight, babe.” Stuart gives me a lingering kiss as he stands up, waving at me all the way out the front door.

“I really, really like him,” dad says, relaxing back into his chair with a smile.

“I- I actually love him,” I confess.

“GOOD,” dad says. “I’ve said all along that you don’t need a man to be happy, but ever since you started seeing Stuart you’ve been a whole new woman.”

“I started seeing him a couple of weeks after my surgery,” I giggle. “Technically, I WAS a whole new woman!”

“Oh, you know what I mean,” dad says. “And who knows? In a couple of years I may get to walk you down the aisle…”

“Bit early to be thinking about that!” I say dismissively.

“Your grandmother got married when she was 22,” dad says, still chuckling happily. “So did two of your great-aunts…”

“Well, yeah your daughter WON’T,” I say firmly.

“I’ll settle for when you’re 23,” dad laughs, making me roll my eyes as I turn my attention to my phone.

After a light snack- I don’t want to ruin my appetite for dinner, after all- I change into my outfit for the night. It being a boiling hot July day, I’d only worn a loose sundress over a comfortable bra and panty set, but for my date, I want to wear something special. I exchange my comfortable panties for a mesh thong- the mesh breathes enough to be comfortable around my still-healing, still slightly swollen area, and is see-through enough to show off said ‘area’! I decide against a bra, instead picking out a dark red halter neck dress with built-in ‘support’. The dress is clingy enough to show off my curves- and my cleavage- and short enough to give my tanned legs the same exposure, especially when paired with the strappy 4” heeled sandals I’m planning to wear! I repaint my toenails and fingernails a dark red colour to match the dress, and apply a thick layer of make-up, including two different shades of red lipstick. After spraying on a cloud of perfume, I tie the sandals to my feet (giggle at how similar it is to tying on a pair of pointe shoes), tie my hair into a playful updo, grab my handbag and head downstairs to where my sexy boyfriend is waiting for me.

“Hey, beautiful,” Stuart says, greeting me with a soft kiss. Stuart, for his part, is wearing a pair of plain black trousers, smart black shoes and a light-blue short sleeved shirt with a decorative pattern stitched into it. It probably took him five minutes to get ready, as opposed to the 30 minutes plus I took, but it hasn’t stopped him from looking seriously hot.

“Hey, sexy,” I reply, slipping my hand into the back pocket of his trousers as he leads us to our taxi.

Just over an hour later, after finishing our delicious meal, Stuart and I take a gentle stroll, hand-in-hand, along the brightly-lit streets of the sprawling city.

“You know,” I muse, “I’ve lived in London my whole life, sometimes I forget just what a beautiful city it is.”

“I know, I’m the same,” Stuart says. “Well, ‘whole life’ apart from 3 years of uni, anyway.”

“Ah yes, how could I forget?” I say with a grin. “Sexy AND talented. When are you going to write me a song?”

“I think James Blunt beat me to it,” Stuart laughs. “You’re beautiful…” I can’t help but giggle contentedly as Stuart serenades me.

“It’s getting late,” I whisper after Stuart finishes his song. “We should get home…” Stuart sees the devilish grin in my eyes and immediately susses out why I’m so eager to get home.

“Taxi!” Stuart yells, returning my excited smile.

We arrive home less than half an hour later and all but leap into each other’s mouths the second we reach my bedroom door. It doesn't take long for me to strip Stuart down to his boxer shorts, and he quickly unties my halter neck, freeing my breasts for him to play with, paying special attention to my stiffening nipples. I'm soon freed from the dress- and my thong- and I leap into Stuart's arms, allowing him to carry me the short distance to my bed. I gently lower his shorts, freeing his swollen clitoris, and I give it a quick kiss, allowing its short, but not insignificant length to slip between my lips. Immediately, Stuart is moaning in ecstasy, and it doesn't take him long to pulse in orgasm from the 'blowjob'. As he recovers, I lay on my back on the bed, my legs as wide as my recovering crotch will allow.

"Three months," I say with a devilish grin. Still panting heavily, Stuart returns to my breasts, gently teasing my nipples, before running a finger down my body to my own, brand-new clitoris. I feel a wave of electricity flow over me as his finger gently strokes it, eliciting the feelings I've waited so long to feel. As Stuart gently slips a finger into my vagina, I can feel the climax building inside me when all of a sudden, it's as if the orgasm 'bursts' and I pant heavily- but not as heavily as I've done in the past when men have made love to me.

"Was that good for you?" Stuart asks.

"I think so," I reply, bringing a confused look to Stuart's face.

"You THINK so?" He asks, sounding particularly put out by my response.

"Give me a break," I reply, hopping off my bed to get my dilating kit. "I've never had a vaginal orgasm before!"

"But you have had orgasms," Stuart replies. "And if you only THINK so..."

"Oh relax," I say, lubricating the dilator and inserting it into my vagina. "We've got time to work it out! Besides, I kinda like the thought of you 'exploring' my body..."

"Where no man has gone before," Stuart chuckles, laying down beside my naked body. "Well, no flesh and blood man, anyway..."

"Oh, stop being so jealous of a dilator!" I laugh. Stuart also laughs, but it's clear that even after three months, he's still uncomfortable when I dilate in front of him.

After I remove the dilator and climb in bed, snuggling up to my sexy boyfriend despite the warmth, I can’t help but muse on how perfect my life has been since my surgery in April. The recovery proceeded perfectly, without complications- I’ve followed my (ever decreasing) routine of vaginal care to the letter, and aside from the slowly fading pink scars, you truly wouldn’t be able to tell that I hadn’t been born female. Even my gynaecologist has remarked on how quick my recovery is- though given how expensive my SRS surgeon was, I’d be a bit put out if my recovery wasn’t this quick!

As quick as my recovery has been, though, I’m still not back to absolute 100%. I haven’t returned to my regular Monday ballet lessons yet (though I will be this Monday coming) and have been taking remedial lessons alongside Krystie’s adult intermediate class to get some flexibility back in me. Joshua keeping me busy with light work also means I don’t have the opportunity to rest and catch my breath- immediately after my surgery, I worried that I was going to get cabin fever from being cooped up in my bedroom for so long, now I’d give anything for a lazy day like that.

Most of the reason for my increased demand is the debut of the first season proper of our TV show. We’re still receiving high viewing figures and rave reviews- well, for a reality show, anyway- and all six of us have seen our public profiles go through the roof. We don’t seem to be able to go two days without one of us being interviewed on TV or featured in a magazine- and it’s my turn tomorrow to keep that ‘run’ alive! The one sad thing is that between Mary’s pregnancy and my surgery, there hasn’t really been any opportunity for the six of us to appear all together- though the other four are more than picking up the slack, especially Viks, who finished university last month with a 2:1 and seems to be fully embracing the celebrity lifestyle! Our show has been renewed for a second season, though, so we’re all but guaranteed to do big group events like we did for our big ‘premiere’ in December last year.

…Though Joshua seems determined to expand his ‘brand- and, in fairness, it is HIS brand. As hard as we’ve worked behind the scenes to promote the show, Joshua’s worked as hard as all six of us combined, even making rare TV appearances himself (something that would have been unthinkable for him a mere 12 months ago). For the second season, Joshua’s quite open about lining up his niece Adeola and Stuart’s sister Rebecca as additional Angels, or forming a separate ‘group’ centred around them. As they’re both highly talented singers, I wouldn’t be surprised if Joshua holds auditions and promotes them as part of the next great girl band. If we get a third season of the Angels, Joshua’s even thought about including Nikki and her girlfriend as part of the group, especially given that Nikki’s already an unofficial ‘seventh Angel’ already. Hell, next season Joshua’s even giving airtime to the boys- Stuart, Keith, Dan, Jonathan, Paul (Kennedy) and Riley have been hanging out together a lot, even despite Paul’s recent break-up with Krystie, and many media outlets have already started referring to them as the ‘boy Angels’. Joshua signing them all to exclusive ‘zero-hour’ contracts certainly helps that point of view. It shouldn’t surprise you either to learn that Stuart and I were photographed by reporters when we arrived at the restaurant for our date.

Our private parties, however, continue to be as fun as ever. As both Mary and I were ‘side-lined’ for Dan’s, Riley's & Charlotte’s birthdays in May, we skipped our usual costume parties (much to Becca's disappointment, as she was looking to 'treating' her boyfriend), but they’ll be back in force for Krystie’s 22nd at the end of the month- in the shape of ridiculous sci-fi inspired costumes. When I first saw what Charlotte had in mind I honestly thought she was joking, and Mary nearly left the Angels then and there- the costumes are skin-tight red PVC leotards with a very skimpy thong back. Complementing the leotards are thigh-high platform boots and long gauntlets in matching red PVC, and black plastic ‘armour’ (which also naturally doubled as a corset) to cover the leotards (whilst not covering our buttock or our cleavage, of course). Winged ‘helmets’, sci-fi inspired gizmos on our wrists and, of course, huge toy laser rifles complete the utterly ridiculous look, which is a far cry from the exquisite Nutcracker-inspired tutus we wore last year! A part of me actually hopes that Mary will manage to hold off giving birth long enough that we’ll be spared the ‘experience’ of wearing the damned things…

…Though they’d undoubtedly get us in every tabloid newspaper the following day, as would the comparatively normal sci-fi ‘armour’ the boys will be wearing, and looking incredibly sexy doing so. As much as I’m seen as an inspiration to transgendered girls around the country (Angels is extremely popular with the LGBT demographic), Stuart’s increasingly being seen as an inspiration to boys on the ‘opposite’ journey. The fact that he is about as blokish as it gets- in public, anyway- only makes him more popular. He and the boys actually fulfilled a lifelong ambition when they had a beer with the Top Gear presenters after one of their live shoes in May, and Stuart in particular is constantly on at Joshua to get me on Top Gear as the start in the reasonably priced car!

But, as famous as he may get, as much as the public may embrace him as their ‘favourite transman’, he’ll ALWAYS be, first and foremost, my favourite transman, just as I always intend to be his favourite girl- trans or otherwise! And yet, as I cuddle up next to him in bed, I can’t help but shake the thoughts of what might have been.

I LOVE Stuart. I have no qualms about telling him this, to his face, on a daily basis. No man has ever made me smile as wide, laugh as hard or feel as blissfully content as he does. I could quite happily spend every remaining second of my life in his company, and yet… There’s something lacking, as our sex session proved. To all intents and purposes, I AM making love to another girl… and it’s just not as satisfying as having sex with a man… Like I did when I went out with Paul.

The more I look back on it, the more I realise that I did love Paul. No man has ever made me orgasm as much, and in as many different ways as he did. His tastes for kink perfectly matched my own, and he knew every square millimetre of my body in intimate detail, knowing where to touch me and how to touch me in order to leave me in ecstasy for ages on end… And that was BEFORE I had a vagina. Now that I’m fully anatomically female, I can only imagine how he’d be able to make me feel.

…But, as much as I love Stuart, and as much as my body craves Paul, neither of them will ever match up to the one I let get away- Keith. He is the true best of both worlds- as sensitive as Stuart, but as passionate as Paul, and as attractive physically as both men put together. He is the first man I ever loved and will always remain that way. All those who come since- including Paul, including Stuart- will find themselves measured against his standard, and will likely find themselves lacking. And yet, I know deep down that I can never have that which I desire the most, because as happy as I’d be in a relationship with Keith, what I stand to lose is much, much greater.

Ultimately, I know I SHOULD be happy with Stuart. He ‘gets’ me like no one- not even Charlotte- ever has. In bed… He certainly gets 10 out of 10 for effort. And it’s not like I ‘settled’ for him, either, especially given how long I’d pursued him before we became a couple. Since his ‘get well soon’ in April, Paul’s sent me more messages enquiring about how I am- messages I haven’t replied to, in fact I’ve gone as far as to tell Nikki to block any incoming messages or calls from him. He’s clearly interested in getting back together, but he had his chance and he blew it. As for Keith… he’s still clearly not as happy with Charlotte as he was before her infidelity, even twelve months after her convincing him to take her back- which is also twelve months after he and I nearly made love. I can’t but feel that if I wanted Keith, I could have him any time- but the cost would be too high.

I wake up at 8am on Wednesday morning with my head resting on Stuart’s pale chest and his strong arm wrapped around my naked body. After waking him from his slumber with a series of gentle kisses, we eat a quick breakfast before showering together and getting ready for the day ahead. Stuarts dresses in a plain t-shirt and long shorts whilst I dilate- also taking the opportunity to check my phone for any missed messages from ‘Team Mary’- and, inevitably, there are no updates. With ten minutes to kill until my dilating session finishes, I type out a message to the Angels (and Nikki).

‘Hey girls,’ I type. ‘MTV UK today… Anyone else up for it?’ Following Hannah ‘gate-crashing’ my interview in February, it’s become an Angel tradition that when one of us is going for an interview, we check to see if any of the others are free and want to tag along as well (I’ve got myself additional TV time this way on more than one occasion).

‘Me!’ Nikki replies, eliciting mass ‘lol’s from the girls.

‘Heh, one day, I promise!’ I reply with a smiley face.

‘Viks hasn’t got anything booked in today iirc,’ Nikki types.

‘Yeah,’ Viks types. ‘I’d love to, but my family are kinda holding me hostage today…’ Viks types a frowning smiley- which I immediately reciprocate.

‘Han and Charlie are at a shoot,’ Nikki continues. ‘Krystie’s obviously teaching and Mary’s obviously, well, you know. Looks like it’s just you today, Jamie!’

‘Lol,’ I reply. ‘Stu’s working all day too… I don’t wanna be alone!’

‘Aww, poor you,’ Mary types with a sticking-out tongue smiley. ‘Still, could be worse, you could be the size of an office block, waiting to push a bowling ball out of your vagina…’

‘Aww,’ I type with a smiley face. ‘Think of all the baby cuddles you’ll be getting over the next few years!’

‘Stop it, you’re making me broody!’ Charlotte types.

‘It’s making ME broody and I’m nine months pregnant!’ Mary types, eliciting another mass ‘lol’.

‘Got to go now,’ I type with a warm smile. ‘My public awaits!’

‘You knock ‘em dead girl!’ Krystie types.

After I finish my dilation, I pick out my outfit for the day. I’m appearing on MTV, so I want to be ‘hip’ whilst at the same time ‘fashionable’, so after pulling on a comfortable cotton bra & thong set and applying a thick layer of make-up I pull on an ‘Angels’ branded tank top and a short, straight leather skirt. I tie my hair up into a tight ponytail and put in a pair of my dangliest earrings, before tying a pair of strappy heeled sandals to my feet.

“Look out London,” Stuart says as I spray on some sweet-smelling perfume. “Here comes the world’s sexiest girl!” I giggle as my boyfriend gently kisses my bare neck and shoulders. “I’ll see you later, at Charlotte’s, okay?”

“Yep,” I say happily, grabbing my handbag and following Stuart down to our respective cars. “See you later, sexy!” I bid Stuart farewell with a long, lingering kiss before getting in my brand-new red Alfa Romeo and driving to the posh TV studio.

My TV appearance today mainly involves talking about the series, promoting our merchandise (like the tank top I’m wearing), with a few minutes devoted to personal stuff, like Krystie’s upcoming party and Mary’s baby. As always, the interview was a total success, and after posing for selfies with the cast and crew, I hop back in my car and check my messages. The show wasn’t live, so I don’t have the usual voicemail from my mum, but I do have missed calls from both Nikki and, to my surprise, Joshua. Frowning in confusion, I flick the ‘redial’ button on the first call.

“Hi Jamie,” Nikki says quietly. “Sorry, I can’t talk long, I’m with Charlotte and Hannah at the shoot and I’m kinda getting frowned at already…”

“Don’t worry about it,” I say with a smile. “What did you want me for?”

“I got a text from Joshua,” Nikki explains. “He asked me to ask you to call him, didn’t say why.”

“I’ve got a missed call from him too,” I muse. “Wonder what’s so important he got you to call me too?”

“I tried calling him, but he didn’t say,” Nikki explains. “He never struck me as the ‘enigmatic’ type…”

“Oh, he can be, if he needs to be,” I say. “I’ll let you get back to your frowns. See you later, Nikki.” Immediately after ending the call, I hit the speed-dial number for my agent.

“Jamie!” Joshua booms down the phone to me. “Get to the office now! We need to talk.”

“Oh, um, okay,” I say, taken aback as always by Joshua’s bombast. “I’m not really dressed for a meeting…”

“Whatever you’re wearing, it’s fine!” Joshua says. “This won’t take five seconds anyway.”

“…And we can’t discuss it over the phone?” I ask.

“I’d prefer not to,” Joshua says in a voice that’s considerably quieter than his usual speaking voice. Realising that what Joshua needs to discuss is serious, I head straight for the vast office complex, where I’m greeted at reception with awed coos from the other people waiting in reception- even though some of them are also models signed to Joshua!

“Hi Jamie,” Millie- the receptionist- says as I approach her. “Joshua’s in his office, just go up any time.”

“Thanks,” I reply, coolly striding up the modern staircase to Joshua’s vast office.

“Jamie!” Joshua booms as I walk through the door. “Please take a seat.” Still confused by Joshua’s call, I elegantly lower myself into one of his posh leather chairs, automatically crossing my right leg over my left and marvelling at how natural that action has become since my surgery.

“What’s up?” I ask the rich African man.

“I’ve received a job application from a photographer,” Joshua explains. “Someone who wants to come and work in my studio.”

“You must get a hundred portfolios a day,” I say. “What’s so special about this one?” With a neutral expression on his face, Joshua slides the portfolio across the desk to me. I don’t even have to open it to see why Joshua called me in- the name on the front of the folder reads ‘Paul Gould’.

“Ugh,” I spit. “He isn’t even a fashion photographer! Why’s he applied for a job with you?”

“You know I’ve been rapidly expanding my business,” Joshua explains. “You and the rest of the Angels have made me very rich, and this has meant I can look at other kinds of projects, like the artistic kind of work Paul Gould does. Jamie… His work is good. REALLY good. For the way he treated you, the way he split up with you…”

“You want to hire him,” I whisper. “If he was crap you could just get rid of him without even having to let me know he applied.”

“Who says blondes are dumb?” Joshua says with a sympathetic smile. “If you say no, then I’ll send him away. Like you said, I get a hundred portfolios a day, I’ll no doubt find another one as good as him. But there aren’t any in my current pile.”

“Do what you feel best,” I say, handing the folder back to Joshua. “Just as long as I don’t have to have any contact with him.”

“There are photographs of you in this folder,” Joshua says in an almost disturbingly quiet voice. “He clearly wants to talk to you, to apologise, maybe.”

“He’s had well over a year,” I spit. “And I’ve moved on, I’m with Stuart now.”

“I do intend to hire him,” Joshua says. “He won’t photograph you, or any of the Angels, but you know that he’ll keep trying to contact you.”

“…And it’d be awkward getting a restraining order against a colleague,” I sigh.

“Exactly,” Joshua says.

“Okay,” I say resignedly. “I’ll message him, tell him I want to see him. But I’ll be going with Stuart, and I’ll make it very clear it’s only because you asked!”

“Thank you for this,” Joshua says warmly. “When I interview him I’ll make it clear that you’re strictly off-limits!”

“Hehe, thanks,” I say as I leave the office, regretting that I hadn’t been entirely truthful with Joshua. I of course know the old phrase ‘hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’, and I am very much the woman scorned. As far as the world is concerned, if I ever see Paul again I’ll perform on him a surgery very similar to the one I had in April, only with my bare hands. Truthfully, though… I want to hear him out. I NEED to hear him out. Another phrase I’m familiar with is ‘time heals all wounds’, and the wound Paul left me with has had well over a year to heal.

I actually feel nervous as I type out a message to Paul on my phone, asking to meet up tomorrow for coffee. When I don’t get an immediate response, I breathe a sigh of relief and head straight to Charlotte’s house, where I head up to my room and change into a light blue halter neck bikini and my designer sunglasses. I’ve healed enough that I can enjoy the cool water of Charlotte’s pool, and following today’s news, I have every intention of doing so! After tying my ponytail into a tight plait, I grab a pair of flip-flops, tie a swishy sarong around my waist and head downstairs to where Keith is already stretched out on a sun lounger.

“Hi Jamie!” Keith says.

“Hi,” I say with a smile, dropping my sarong & my flip-flops and allowing the sun to warm every exposed square inch of my body. “Oh, stop being so squeamish…” I chastise Keith, but when I turn around, the normally shy boy isn’t averting his gaze, but is instead staring intently at my backside.

“Don’t let Charlotte know you’re so interested in my arse!” I giggle, taking off my sunglasses and jumping in the pool.

“Oh, I can look, as long as I don’t touch,” Keith giggles, rolling over in the sun lounger to stare at me swimming. “Are you sure you should be swimming so soon after your operation?”

“It’s been three months!” I laugh. “And if I can do what I did in bed last night with Stuart…”

“Okay,” Keith said, rolling back over. “Speaking of, when’s he getting here?”

“I texted him earlier,” I say. “He’ll be here in a bit. And you’re NOT going inside to play Call of Duty, I have girlfriend privileges I Intend to exercise!”

“As if we’d do that,” Keith chuckles. Sure enough, within ten minutes my boyfriend arrives and quickly strips down to his swimming shorts before jumping into the pool, splashing my already-glistening body. I swim over to Stuart and give him a long kiss, giggling as he dunks us both underwater, our lips still locked together.

“Brings a new meaning to the phrase ‘came up for breath’,” Stuart says, making me laugh even harder.

“I missed you today,” I sigh. “REALLY missed you…”

“You know I always miss you when I’m at work,” Stuart replies, giving me another soft kiss. “Is- is everything alright?” I sigh as I’m suddenly reminded that my boyfriend is as perceptive as he is sexy.

“It can wait,” I giggle, splashing Stuart full in the face with a handful of water.

We stay in the pool for the next half hour before our ‘party’ is joined by Charlotte and Hannah, both of whom have changed into skimpy one-piece swimsuits.

“Hey,” I say, climbing out of the pool and drying myself off. “Good shoot today?”

“We were wearing football kits, there’s not much to day about that really,” Charlotte sighs, slowing lowering herself into her pool.

“Ooh, which team?” Keith asks.

“Really, Keith?” Stuart joke. “Not paying attention to your girlfriend’s work?”

“She said ‘a shoot for a sports company’,” Keith laughs. “Never said anything about it being football!”

“It was Arsenal,” Hannah giggles, joining Charlotte in the pool.

“Oh, well never mind then,” Keith chuckles.

“I need to get the smell of chlorine out of my hair,” I laugh. “Gonna hit the shower for a bit.”

“Me too,” Stuart says a little TOO hastily. “Um, for the, um, chlorine I mean, um-“

“Oh, just go!” Hannah orders, making everyone- myself and Stuart included- giggle as we skip up to my en-suite hand-in-hand. It doesn’t take long for us to free each other of our swimwear and, with our lips locked in a passionate clinch, jump under the hot, running water of my shower. Once we're both sufficiently 'steamy', I sink to my knees and press my lips into Stuart's crotch. I'm actually surprised when I find his clitoris there instead of a penis- every time I've been on my knees in this shower before, I've had Paul Gould's penis in my mouth, and the thought of him brought back an old 'instinct' I haven't had in over a year. Keeping my lips on Stuart's clitoris, I lock my eyes with his and suck its entire length between my lips, smiling as Stuart yells with ecstasy. I make a point of swallowing- even though, obviously, I don't have any ejaculate in my mouth- and give Stuart a long, deep kiss as we wash the smell of the pool- and the smell of sex- off of our bodies.

“Okay,” Stuart gasps as he puts his shorts back on. “That was officially the best shower I’ve ever had!”

“Glad you approve,” I giggle, pulling on a tiny pale pink bikini. “Stu… We need to talk.”

“Oh what?” Stuart asks exasperatedly. “I’m getting the ‘we need to talk’ immediately after sex?”

“I’m not breaking up with you!” I giggle. “And what we need to talk about… Well, it really wouldn’t have gone down well BEFORE sex.”

“What is it?” Stuart asks. I take a deep breath and sit down on the edge of my bed, gesturing for Stuart to join me, before I begin.

“This is such a bad idea…” I moan. “Joshua… Joshua’s given a job to Paul Gould.”

“What, that skinny bastard you used to go out with?” Stuart asks.

“Yeah,” I nod. “You know how he’s been messaging me since I had my operation, right? Well, um…”

“You want closure,” Stuart says, gently squeezing my manicured hand.

“Exactly,” I say. “And I want you to come.”

“Good,” Stuart chuckles. “That saves me the awkwardness of trying to invite myself along…” I giggle as Stuart gives me a quick cuddle before we head back downstairs, spending the rest of the day in the warm July sun.

Stuart and I head to bed just after 10pm, leaving the still-thriving party (Jonathan, Viks & Krystie all arrived just after 5pm) in favour of an early night. As I strip naked for bed, I check my phone, only to discover a message from Paul in amongst the notifications that I’d planned on ignoring.

‘Hey Jamie,’ Paul’s message reads with a smiley. ‘Long time no talk. Would love to meet up. 11am tomorrow at that coffee shop on the corner near my flat good for you?’

‘Yep,’ I reply, before switching my phone to silent for the night and tossing it in my laundry basket, where the noise from the vibrations should hopefully be muffled.

“Was that Paul?” Stuart asks cautiously, removing all his clothes and climbing under the bed sheets.

“’Was’ being the word,” I giggle, cuddling my naked body up against my boyfriend’s. Even though we’re both naked and the atmosphere in the room is hot, we don’t indulge in any sexual activities, choosing instead to cuddle each other to sleep.

It’s Stuart’s phone that’s wakes us on the mild Thursday morning at 9am- my own phone still being buried under a pile of clothes. After showering, I apply a moderate layer of make-up and pull on a light, stretchy white bodysuit with short sleeves, followed by an ankle-length blue sundress and cork wedges with a 2” heel. Even though I’m dressed as casually as possible- not even tying my hair up- Stuart still gives me a cuddle as I try to grab my sunglasses and my handbag!

Once we’re both ready- both mentally and physically- we head down to Stuart’s car.

“Do you know what you’re going to say to him?” Stuart asks me.

“I’m just going to listen to begin with,” I reply. “I’ll hear him out, then tell him to [f**k] off out of my life.” Stuart nods, but remains silent as we approach our destination. As we enter the coffee shop Paul waves, having immediately spotted me. Instinctively, I grab Stuart’s hand, intertwining our fingers as we walk toward his table.

“I got us drinks,” Paul says cautiously. “Double mocha, your favourite, right?”

“This is Stuart Milton, my boyfriend,” I say, taking a seat opposite my ex.

“Hi,” Stuart says quietly, shaking Paul’s hand.

“Oh yes,” Paul says. “The ‘anti-Jamie’.” I can’t help but wince as I feel Stuart seethe next to me.

“Actually,” Stuart says, snaking an arm around my waist, “I’m very PRO-Jamie.” I giggle a little as Stuart gently tickles my ribs- I’m EXTREMELY ticklish- and effortlessly deflects Paul’s insult.

“Okay,” Paul says, clearly uncomfortable with Stuart’s presence. “What I wanted to say, Jamie… Was that I’m sorry.” I pause, expecting more from the uncomfortable young man.

“…That’s all you have to say after a year?” I ask.

“I know it sounds lame,” Paul confesses. “But I really have no excuse. I was selfish, I was stupid, I let the best thing I ever had in my life slip through my fingers.”

“You didn’t let her ‘slip through your fingers’,” Stuart sneers. “You discarded her.”

“Thanks,” I say sarcastically, feeling a little put out that my own boyfriend would compare me- however unwittingly- to a piece of garbage.

“I just want to know if there’s a chance that we could be friends,” Paul says. “Especially now that I’m working for Joshua…”

“Exactly why did you apply for a job with him, anyway?” I ask. “You were doing alright beforehand, it’s a completely different style of photography from what you’re used to-“

“You applied to be closer to Jamie, didn’t you?” Stuart asks, interrupting me and irritating me for the second time in under a minute.

“I’d be lying if I said that WASN’T part of the reason,” Paul says, making Stuart shift uncomfortably in his chair.

“You’re not afraid it’ll make you seem like ‘less of a man’ to your friends?” I ask, smirking as Paul squirms under the question.

“Well, um, now that you have a vagina…” Paul begins.

“A vagina you’re never going to as much as see,” I say smugly.

“And a vagina that’s never going to have a penis anywhere near it,” Paul spits at Stuart, who is barely containing his anger.

“If I wasn’t blissfully happy with Stuart, I wouldn’t be with him,” I say, gripping Stuart’s hand and calming him down.

“If you insist,” Paul says. “I’ll be honest, when I asked to meet you… There was a part of me that did hope there was another chance for us.”

“Not. Going. To. Happen,” I say firmly, finishing my coffee. “I can work with you professionally, but that’s it.”

“Fine,” Paul says as the three of us get up and prepare to leave. “I guess I’ll have to settle for being the only guy with whom you had unprotected sex.” I feel Stuart seethe beside me as Paul mentions our most intimate moments.

“I mean,” Paul laughs. “With your current boyfriend it’s not like there’s anything that needs protecting, am I right?” The next few seconds pass in a blur as Stuart whirls round to face Paul and I hear the unmistakable sound of flesh meeting flesh HARD. Before I have the chance to register what’s happened, Paul has slumped to the floor in agony, clutching his left eye, and Stuart is stood over him, looking almost like he’s in a trance.

“STU!” I yell angrily. “What the hell did you do!?”

“Umm…” Stuart says, leaning heavily on the counter.

“Get out!” I say angrily, crouching beside the stricken young man. Silently, almost in a state of shock, Stuart leaves, getting in his car and driving away.

“Are you okay?” I ask Paul, who still hasn’t got back to his feet. “Can I get a glass of water, or some ice, or something?” I yell to the shocked baristas.

“Ugh,” Paul says, “so you prefer violent hooligans now?”

“He’s not like that,” I say defensively. “Not really… Not normally…”

“Tell that to my eye,” Paul says, taking his hand away and revealing the bruised, swollen flesh around it. “How does he hit that hard? His hands aren’t any bigger than yours…”

“He’s had eight years of flooding his veins with testosterone,” I explain. “And what you said really, really sucked.”

“Oh come on,” Paul says, grabbing a cold can of Coke and holding it to his eye.

“No, I won’t ‘come on’,” I say. “You know I’ve not exactly had it easy, I’ve had my fair share of transphobia directed at me. Well, you WOULD know it anyway, if you didn’t ditch me like a bad smell immediately after I publicly came out.”

“Yeah,” Paul sighs.

“Frankly, if it wasn’t for the oestrogen correcting my brain, I’D probably have punched you,” I giggle, making Paul smile wearily. “It was a mistake bringing him along…”

“We’ve both made mistakes,” Paul concedes. “Asking to see you again… Well, that WASN’T one of them, despite this!” Paul points at his darkening eye, making us both laugh. “And we did have good times, didn’t we?”

“We had some great times,” I say. “But they’re in the past, and that’s where they should stay.” I gulp before asking my next question. “Did- did you start seeing anyone after we split up?”

“I went on dates,” Paul confesses. “Saw a couple of girls for a few weeks, nothing serious. You’re still the longest relationship I’ve ever had.”

“Same here,” I sigh.

“How long have you been seeing Ronda Rousey there?” Paul asks.

“HIS name is Stuart,” I reply defensively. “And to answer your question, three months, since just after my surgery, though I’ve known him well over a year. We met at Dr. Phillips’s office.”

“Didn’t realise she ran a transsexual dating agency as well,” Paul jokes, finally getting back to his feet and walking outside with my support.

“No, nothing like that,” I giggle. “We were both there for appointments, we got chatting, became friends… We dated briefly but both agreed it wouldn’t go anywhere. He also dated Krystie for a bit.”

“What changed your mind that made you date him again?” Paul asks.

“Because he’s one of the best friends I’ve ever had,” I sigh. “He’s a great listener, he’s sweet, sensitive…”

“…He has a mean right hook,” Paul laughs.

“He’s everything I could want in a man,” I say dreamily.

“’Everything’?” Paul asks.

“Nobody’s perfect,” I say with a smile. “God knows you proved that. And it’s not like I was ‘everything’ you looked for in a woman…”

“Yeah, but you are now,” Paul says, taking hold of my hand.

“And Stuart will be ‘everything’ soon,” I reply, pulling my hand free of Paul’s grip.

“You really, truly are happy with him, aren’t you?” Paul asks.

“I am,” I confess.

“Okay,” Paul concedes with a sigh. “Just… We could’ve been perfect.”

“Life’s too short to waste on ‘could’ve’s,” I giggle, before giving Paul a quick kiss on the cheek. “See you at work?”

“Yep,” Paul says, smiling his most beautiful smile at me before driving away.

I get a taxi back home- to my parents’ house- where I collapse on the sofa, sighing frustratedly. I was meant to see Paul, say my piece and then he’d piss off… Instead I’ve just been reminded of why I liked him so much in the first place.

“Hi Jamie!” Mum calls from the kitchen. “You’re home early, is Stuart with you?”

“No,” I moan.

“Oh no,” mum says. “Have you broken up?”

“No,” I reply, catching myself before adding ‘not yet’ to the end of my sentence.

“Good,” mum says. “Last thing you need right now is a broken heart.”

“I saw Paul earlier,” I confess. “Paul Gould, my ex-boyfriend.”

“Oh,” mum says stoically. “What did he want?”

“It’s more what I wanted than what he wanted…” I say. “He’s been bugging me since my operation, sending me the occasional message, and now he’s got a job with Joshua, so I thought I’d go along, clear the air and finally move on.”

“And what happened?” Mum asks, sitting down next to me.

“Paul wound Stuart up, Stuart decked him,” I say, making mum giggle slightly.

“What?” I ask.

“’Guys fighting over you’…” Mum teases.

“It’s not funny, AND it’s not flattering,” I retort. “Glad I got out of the whole stupid gender.”

“Are you mad at Stuart?” Mum asks.

“Yes,” I sigh. “No. A little. Maybe. I don’t know! What he did was moronic, but at the same time… I can’t really blame him for what he did.”

“Have you spoken to Stuart yet?” Mum asks.

“Not yet,” I reply. “Had enough of MEN for today.”

“What do you want to do, right now?” Mum asks, giggling at my outburst.

“I… I just want to have a girls night,” I sigh. “But I can’t even have one of those, we might get called away at any second for Mary…” Mum then leans into me and gives me a long, motherly hug- which is probably the thing I need most right now.

“Life’s not easy,” mum sighs. “Even when you’re rich and famous like you! Get in touch with the girls, see if any of them are free, we’ll have a girls night here. And if Mary goes into labour, I’ll drive you all to the hospital in that pink cab of yours.”

“Thanks,” I say with a grin.

“Now go on!” Mum teases. “It’s about the only time I’ll ever tell you to fiddle with your phone, make the most of it!” I giggle as I compose a message to the Angels inviting them all round for a night in, much like we had before Charlotte’s reconciliation with the group. I take a slight liberty in that I also invite Adeola and Becca- despite me being angry at her brother- and also Nikki & her girlfriend, despite them being under eighteen, as I figure the more girls I’m around, the more likely I am to calm down about my boy problems.

Sure enough, that evening, I’m sat in my living room laughing and giggling with six other girls. Charlotte had plans with Keith and Viks had already agreed to spend the time with her family- and Mary is obviously unable to come- but Krystie, Hannah, Adeola, Becca, Nikki and Sarah are all present, drinking wine (or fruit juice in the case of the seventeen year olds) and deconstructing the male gender one macho idiot at a time.

“…And that,” I say, addressing Becca, “is why your brother is a total jerk.”

“No argument here!” The 19 year old girl giggles. “Him, Kennedy and Riley are probably at home playing videogames. And that’s why YOUR brother is a total jerk!” Becca jokes at Krystie, who doubles over in a fit of giggles.

“I’m so glad my boyfriend turned out to really be a girl all along,” Sarah says, giving Nikki a tight cuddle.

“You’re so glad your GIRLFRIEND turned out to really be a girl all along,” Nikki giggles.

“You are, of course, going to forgive Stuart, right?” Hannah says in my direction, making me sigh and giggle at the same time.

“Of course, yes,” I say. “He may be an idiot at times but no one makes me smile like he does.”

“I don’t need to hear any more!” Becca says urgently, making the whole room giggle.

“Okay,” Krystie says. “No more talk of BOYS!”

“I can drink to that!” I say, eliciting another mass giggle.

“So,” Hannah says. “Where’s everyone off on holiday this year? Somewhere hot and sunny, I take it?”

“Of course,” Becca says with a grin. “Okay, it’s with my parents, but it’s still a week in Tenerife!”

“I’m off to LA with my mum at the end of the month,” Sarah says.

“Yeah, I remembering her saying,” I say. “I still can’t believe your mum is my counsellor, I mean, how much of a coincidence?”

“I still can’t believe your mum finally gave consent for me to come with you on holiday and I go and get a job that means I can’t go!” Nikki jokes, earning another hug from Sarah.

“Speaking of your job, Nikki?” Hannah asks, making the teenaged T-girl roll her eyes and check her phone.

“Still nothing,” Nikki replies. “This baby might get born at some point before Christmas…”

“Well if she was born at Christmas, her mum’s certainly got the right name for it!” Adeola jokes, eliciting a mass giggle.

“Yeah, except our Mary is most definitely NOT a virgin!” Krystie laughs.

“Well yes, but is anyone else in this room?” Hannah asks, eliciting a lot of guilty looks followed by a lot of loud giggles.

“Let she who is without sin…” Sarah jokes.

“There’s one thing I’ve ALWAYS wanted to know,” Hannah asks, her inebriation beginning to show. “What’s better: sex as a boy or sex as a girl?"

“Why are you looking at me?” I ask, feeling plenty tipsy myself.

“Well, um, you know…” Hannah stutters awkwardly.

“What makes you think I ever had sex as a boy?” I ask, eliciting shocked gasps from those present.

“And I’m technically a minor so I refuse to answer!” Nikki laughs.

“The SECOND you turn eighteen I’m asking again!” Hannah says, almost shaking from giggling too much. “Now sex WITH a boy vs sex WITH a girl, THAT I know how to answer!”

“Oh my god,” Krystie says excitedly, “I didn’t know you swung both ways too!”

“I have in the past,” Hannah says, calming herself a little. “I figured out what I preferred a long time ago!”

“You’re only 21, it couldn’t have been that long ago!” Adeola retorts.

“And I thought we meant to be NOT talking about boys?” I remind everyone.

“’Not boys’ it is!” Krystie says with a laugh. “So, Hannah, what was SHE like?”

“Hot,” Hannah replies, downing her drink. “Sexy, but still cuddly… The fact that we both did gymnastics at school CERTAINLY helped…”

“Mmm,” Krystie moans. “I’m not sure Nikki & Sarah should be listening to this!”

“Give that we’re the only actual lesbians in the room, I think we need to hear more!” Nikki laughs.

The conversation eventually moved on from Hannah’s tales of debauchery to gossip about work, holidays, fashion, Becca & Adeola’s fledgling music career, all topics under the sun that have nothing to do with anything male! As promised, mum drive the four teenagers home just after 10pm in the ‘Angelmobile’ (which Hannah arrived in), leaving me alone in my living room with the two statuesque blonde girls.

“Now that the ‘kids’ are gone,” Krystie says, “You are going to forgive Stu, right?”

“Okay,” I sigh. “I’ll text him now. But I’m sleeping alone tonight!”

“Aww,” Hannah coos, giving me a tight cuddle. “I was looking forward to a sleepover…”

“How much have you had to drink?” I ask, making both Hannah and Krystie giggle uncontrollably.

“You know, Han,” Krystie giggles, “we’ve both snogged AND shared a bed with Jamie, yet here she is, obsessed with a BOY…”

“Are you suggesting we should, you know, make her jealous?” Hannah asks, releasing her grip on me and sliding next to Krystie.

“Now how, pray tell, should we do that?” The very drunk Krystie asks, making Hannah giggle loudly and pace a long, sloppy kiss on her lips.

“Oh stop that,” I joke as I fire off a text to Stuart, asking if he’s okay and to meet up the following morning.

“We are SO having a sleepover,” Hannah giggles, grabbing Krystie’s hand and heading upstairs.

“Not in my bed you aren’t!” I laugh.

“Just try and stop us!” Krystie giggles as they head up to my bedroom and slam the door. Almost immediately, I start to hear the sound of bedsprings bouncing up and down, accompanied by uncontrollable giggling.

“If you break it, you bought it,” I shout upstairs, making the two excitable girls laugh even louder. Before I can stop them, an alert on my phone draws my attention to a new text message from my boyfriend.

‘Hi Jamie,’ the message reads. ‘Feeling really embarrassed about today, don’t know what came over me but hearing that smug prick laugh at me… I lost control, and I am deeply sorry. I’m busy all morning with work but can meet up for lunch. Love you xxx.’ I smile at Stuart’s contrition and return to the sensitive boy I know and love, and compose a reply.

‘Love you too xxxx,’ I reply. ‘See you for lunch! Xxxx’ Before I head upstairs to try to prevent Hannah & Krystie from destroying my bed, I twirl my phone in my hands, eventually deciding to compose a text message to my ex-boyfriend.

‘Hey Paul,’ I type. ‘Really, really sorry about what happened today... Are you okay?’ I put my phone away and prepare to head upstairs when I get an immediately reply to my text.

‘Felt better,’ Paul replies. ‘Still bruised & a little swollen. Surprised you texted me tbh.’

‘Feeling a little guilty,’ I reply. ‘Anyway I can make it up to you? Without any other physical contact, I mean.’

‘Lol,’ Paul almost immediately texts back. ‘YOU have nothing to feel guilty about, your arsehole boyfriend, on the other hand…’ I roll my eyes and quickly compose another text message.

‘Do you want to get a coffee tomorrow morning?’ I text. ‘It’ll be just me this time, I promise!’

‘Sure,’ Paul texts. ‘Probably best if we don’t go to the same coffee shop as today, but there’s a Costa just down the road from there.’

‘I know the place,’ I reply. ‘See you tomorrow!’ I put my phone back in my bag and head upstairs to my bedroom, where the two girls’ giggles have quickly become shrieking laughter. As I enter the room, I’m immediately bombarded with every pillow from my bed, which I eagerly throw back at the two drunk girls! Our ‘pillow fight’ doesn’t last long, however, before the three of us collapse, exhausted, onto my bed, quickly falling asleep in the summer warmth.

“Oww,” Hannah moans the following morning as she wakes up, her face in the direct glare of the sun.

“Your fault!” I giggle, shoving the tall girl off of my bed onto the floor, wincing slightly at the dull ‘thud’ with which she hits the deck.

“Oh god,” Krystie moans as she wakes up. “Why did you let us drink so much last night?”

“Seriously?” I ask. “You’re blaming me?”

“I know, I know,” Krystie moans. “Have you got any aspirin? I’ve got to be at work in an hour and a half…”

“There’s some in the bathroom,” I say. “Can you take Hannah with you? Kinda skipped something last night that I shouldn’t have…” I wave my thick orange tube in the air, making Krystie giggle despite her hangover as she picks Hannah up off the floor and leaves me to dilate in peace.

After finishing dilating- and the rest of my morning routine- I apply a moderate layer of make-up and dress in a clean white bra & thong set, before pulling on a light grey tank top and a ruffled black miniskirt, finishing my look by tying my hair into a tight ponytail and slipping my feet into a pair of flip-flops.

“That’s much better,” Hannah says upon seeing my look for the day. “Free those awesome legs!”

“Thanks,” I say as the three of us hop in the Angelmobile. “Can you drop me at the Costa near the cinema?”

“Sure,” Hannah- our driver- replies.

“Just remember,” Krystie giggles. “In the make-up sex, HE has to do all the hard work!” I giggle back- the girls clearly think I’m meeting up with Stuart, and there’s no reason for them to believe otherwise.

I enter the quiet coffee shop and immediately locate Paul at one of the tables in the back. Even despite his dark sunglasses, I can still tell that he has a whopper of a black eye.

“Hey,” I say quietly, sitting down and taking a sip of the double mocha Paul’s ordered. “Thanks for meeting with me.”

“It’s fine,” Paul replies. “I know why you’re here… And don’t worry, I’m not going to press charges, even though I could, and probably should.”

“Thanks,” I whisper. “My dad of course thinks that Stuart’s a hero…”

“Heh,” Paul chuckles. “He really never did like me, did he?”

“The fact that you constantly called him ‘Mr Burke’ didn’t help you much,” I reply. “Really wish I hadn’t changed my surname when I started transitioning, guess it’s a bit late to change it back now…”

“Don’t want to damage ‘Jamie-Lee: the brand’?” Paul asks, making me giggle and nod. “Understandable. You know I’ve been keeping up with you, right? Watching all your TV appearances, reading your magazine columns…” I giggle at Paul’s unashamed ‘fanboying’.

“You do know those magazines are mainly intended for women and teenage girls, right?” I ask.

“You do know they’re also published online, right?” Paul asks with a cute smile. “And I haven’t been nicked by operation Yewtree yet, so I assume I’m okay to keep reading them.”

“I really do appreciate it,” I say. “I’ll admit… I have googled your name a few times, looking for any projects you might have been involved with.”

“Thanks,” Paul says with genuine gratitude. “I am really proud of some of the recent stuff I’ve done, kinda why I shot off a portfolio to Joshua, heh. And yes, I know you’re wondering, but any ‘special’ projects you and I did in private? All gone. Completely deleted.”

“Even the one with the ballet boots?” I ask with a devilish grin.

“ESPECIALLY that one,” Paul laughs. “I knew if I watched that one again I’d probably never be able to delete it so it went first, heh.”

“Thanks,” I say with a genuine smile, before checking the time on my phone. “I’ve got to get going… Promised Stu I’d meet up with him for lunch.”

“Ah, the ‘grovelling meal’,” Paul giggles. “I should be familiar with those…”

“You take care, okay?” I say softly at the handsome young man.

“Will do,” Paul replies. “See you round, Jamie-Lee.” I leave the coffee shop with a smile on my face- I’ve loathed Paul for so long that I’d forgotten just how much he truly did make me smile at times. I hail a taxi to my next destination- my lunch date with Stuart, and check my messages on my phone. The first message, however, is deeply unwelcome- a link to a news article from Charlotte. When I open up the page, I sigh in frustration, knowing that my lunch date just got a LOT more awkward.

‘Fallen Angel: meeting between Jamie-Lee Burke and her ex-boyfriend leaves the latter with a black eye.’ I groan loudly as I read the article, which details how Stuart and I entered the coffee shop, only for Stuart to leave on his own and me to leave with Paul a few minutes later. Naturally, there’s a photo of the peck on the cheek I gave him.

“Fuuuuuuuuck,” I moan, closing the browser on my phone and dialling Joshua’s number.

“Jamie,” Joshua says stoically, as opposed to his usual booming greeting.

“You read the article, then?” I ask.

“When I told you to meet with Paul Gould, that was not what I had in mind!” Joshua exclaims. “Please tell me it wasn’t you who punched him…”

“No, it was Stuart,” I sigh. “I’m on my way to see Stu now, god knows how he’ll react…”

“You just be careful,” Joshua advises. “I’ve got a lot of damage limitation to do now… Mary has of course chosen Stuart as godfather for her baby, the papers will have a field day with THAT…”

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” I say.

“Don’t you worry!” Joshua says, his usual joviality returning to his voice. “I’ll smooth it all over, you won’t need to put out an apology. Just go and have lunch with your boyfriend!”

“Thanks,” I say with a smile. I arrive at the small restaurant to meet Stuart a mere ten minutes later, and I can immediately tell from his facial expression that he’s seen the same article I have.

“Hey,” I say cautiously, sitting down opposite my unhappy boyfriend.

“Hi,” Stuart says. “So, I’m going to get thrown under the bus then…” Whilst I obviously sympathise with Stuart, I can’t help but feel put out by his self-pity.

“You broke it, you bought it,” I half-joke, shooting Stuart a sympathetic smile.

“Yes, I know,” Stuart sighs. “I just- I just saw red, you know? I’m really, really sorry that you got dragged into this.”

“Heh,” I chuckle, my mood improving thanks to Stuart’s grovelling. “If anything I dragged YOU into it!”

“Whatever,” Stuart says dismissively. “I’m still the arsehole in this story… At least we won’t have to deal with Paul again, heh. Just hope he won’t press charges…”

“Oh, don’t worry, he won’t,” I say, hoping to cheer up the miserable young man.

“…How do you know?” Stuart asks suspiciously.

“Shit,” I whisper under my breath.

“Did you- did you see him again?” Stuart asks, barely controlling his anger.

“I don’t really see what business it is of yours whether or not I did,” I say defensively. “It’s not like I stop you from seeing any of your exes.”

“This is different,” Stuart insists.

“Oh, how exactly?” I ask angrily.

“Well, um,” Stuart stutters. “You’re in the news! You kissed him, for crying out loud!”

“Just a peck on the cheek!” I half-shout, inadvertently drawing the attention of the restaurant. “I was being polite!”

“You were flirting!” Stuart retorts.

“I was not flirting!” I hiss. “I- Let’s not do this in here, please?” Even though we haven’t even eaten yet, Stuart nods, leading me outside to his car. After I sit down in his passenger seat, I continue my retort, only a lot louder than before.

“I was not flirting!” I shout. “I hadn’t seen the guy in over a year, we used to be intimate, I gave him a peck on the cheek! That’s all!”

“Well, I suppose it’s better than where you used to kiss him,” Stuart retorts, earning himself a VERY filthy glare.

“Oh, you complete arsehole!” I yell. “You know I’ve had sexual partners before, what, am I supposed to claw Krystie’s eyes out next time you hug her?”

“It’s different for guys,” Stuart argues.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” I shout. “You of all people shouldn’t be such a fucking misogynist!”

“I- I know,” Stuart sighs, realising he’s crossed a line. “I’m sorry, but-“

“No buts,” I growl. “And not sorry enough!” I open my mouth to argue further, but am interrupted by my phone ringing.

“Nikki, hi,” I say into my phone, trying not to sound too angry at the young woman. “Save me please from this horrific quote-unquote lunch.”

“Action stations!” Nikki says breathlessly, as though she’d been running.

“Action stations?” I ask. “What do you mean by ac-“ My eyes go wide and I exchange a concerned glance with Stuart.

“Oh, shit!” I breathe into the phone. “Um, uh, which hospital is she in? Is there anything I can do?”

“Same hospital she was in on Tuesday,” Nikki says amidst a lot of background noise. “May’s parents are flying in from Belfast today- can you pick them up from Gatwick?”

“Can we get to Gatwick to pick up Mary’s parents?” I ask Stuart, who nods and starts his car.

“We’ll be there in 45 minutes,” Stuart shouts into the phone.

“That’s good,” Nikki says. “I’ll let them know you’ll pick them up. You’ll need a lot of boot space. Got to go- see you at the hospital.”

“Oh shit,” I mouth as Nikki hangs up.

“Calm down!” Stuart laughs. “It’s not like you’re the one having the baby!”

“I know, I know, it’s just- this is real!” I breathe excitedly.

“It was ‘real’ the last two times as well,” Stuart laughs.

“Oh shut up,” I retort as we head toward the airport as fast the city’s speed limits allow.

“Hi,” the middle-aged Irish man says as he dumps his bags- including a HUGE pink teddy bear- in Stuart’s boot. “It’s Jamie and Stuart, right?”

“Yes, hi Mr Logan,” I say politely.

“For god’s sake, call me Pete!” The old man insists with a smile. “Hope I’m not too late…”

“I’m getting updates from Krystie every few minutes,” I say as I compose a text message letting her know that Mary’s parents have arrived. “No progress yet but her waters HAVE broken.”

“Then take me to my granddaughter!” Pete insists.

“And, um, your regular daughter, right?” Stuart asks with a chuckle.

“Just go, go!” Pete insists, laughing excitedly with his wife. We arrive at the hospital just over an hour later, Krystie greeting the four of us with big hugs.

“She’s in the labour ward,” Krystie explains breathlessly. “Dan’s with her, but I’ve not heard anything for a while.”

“God, can you imagine if it goes so slow she’s born tomorrow?” Mrs Logan asks. “Daughter of a Northern Irish Catholic born on The Twelfth?”

“I’m sure she’ll be out soon,” Stuart says, escorting the expectant grandparents to their seats before slumping down in a chair next to me.

“I’ll still mad at you,” I say stoically.

“…But there are more important things right now?” Stuart asks, making me nod and us both giggle.

“…And I’m sorry for being an insensitive, macho, masculine, sexy, hunky idiot,” Stuart grovels, making me giggle even harder.

“Right on all counts,” I sigh, resting my head on the hunky idiot’s shoulder. “And you don’t need to worry, I’m not going to see Paul again, well, not outside of work anyway.”

“The soo-“ Stuart starts, before wisely shutting his mouth. “Never mind.”

“No, go on,” I say softly. “You thought better of it, I won’t get mad, I promise.”

“I was going to say ‘the sooner Joshua forms that girl band so I can work for him the better’,” Stuart says. “But that does kinda make me sound like a jealous idiot.”

“Nah,” I giggle. “It’d be great working with you. That way I’d always have someone to bring me coffee whenever I’m at the office!” Stuart playfully rolls his eyes, before giving me a long kiss on the forehead. “Speaking of fetching things for me…”

“You want me to get your dilating kit, right?” Stuart asks.

“Hunky AND perceptive,” I giggle, giving Stuart a playful squeeze on the buttock as he leaves- a gesture that I know he is VERY appreciative of! With my boyfriend running his errand, I get out of my chair and stroll over to Krystie, who’s staring intently at the hospital’s vending machine.

“I’ve got change if you’re hungry,” I say, buying myself a Topic bar.

“No,” Krystie sighs. “Just- you know, ‘mentally preparing myself for godmotherhood’, heh.”

“I know the feeling,” I laugh. “I’ve already bought so many presents for her, not just for the Christening either…”

“That girl is going to be more spoiled than Prince George, hehe!” Krystie giggles.

“God, can you imagine if she marries Prince George?” I say.

“Give the girl a chance, she hasn’t even been born yet!” Krystie laughs. “Though you’re right, it would be cool…”

“Speaking of relationships…” I begin.

“Let’s not…” Krystie replies.

“Seriously, what happened between you and Paul?” I ask.

“Eh,” Krystie shrugs. “Turns out we were just incompatible.”

“I am going to HAVE to find you a man you ARE compatible with!” I joke.

“Aww,” Krystie giggles. “So in addition to Kristina-Leigh’s regular godmother, you’re going to be my fairy godmother?”

“It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it!” I giggle.

Hours pass as we await any news from Mary & Dan. Stuart returns, and watches over me as I (once again) dilate on the floor of the Angelmobile. Afternoon turns into evening- Nikki more than earning her keep by ferrying cooked meals to us from the hospital canteen- and all of us grow increasingly tired and worried about our friend. A camera crew even shows up on Joshua’s orders, waiting for the opportunity to catch the world’s first glimpse of mother and child.

“It’s 10:30pm,” Stuart sighs. “She’s been in there HOURS.”

“It’ll take as long as it takes,” I moan, once again resting my head on Stuart’s shoulder.

“Have you ever thought about having kids?” My boyfriend suddenly asks.

“Umm, you of all people should know that isn’t going to happen for me,” I reply, giggling as Stuart rolls his eyes.

“You know what I mean,” Stuart says. “Adopting, fostering, something like that.”

“Perhaps,” I sigh. “You’re taking this relationship a little quick, aren’t you?”

“Well you’re not mad at me about Paul anymore, so…” Stuart teases, making me giggle a little.

“Oh, I’m still mad,” I say with a smile. “I’m just too tired to be REALLY mad. Some of the things you said REALLY sucked.”

“I know,” Stuart sighs. “If I have to grovel for months, I will. I really, really do love you, you know.”

“I love you too,” I say happily. “…Idiot.” Stuart and I both giggle as the night draws on.

I must have nodded off in the hospital chair as I suddenly become aware of Stuart eagerly shaking my shoulder.

“Jamie!” Stuart whispers excitedly. “Jamie! Wake up!”

“Unhh…” I moan. “Wh-what time is it?”

“Just gone 4am,” Stuart says. “Look!” I open my bleary eyes to see Dan stood at the end of the corridor, wearing medical scrubs and the widest grin possible plastered on his face.

“Ladies, gentlemen,” Dan says breathlessly to the enthralled crowd. “It is my honour, and my infinite pleasure to announce the birth of Kristina-Leigh Angela Carter at 3:31 this morning, weighing 7lb, 10oz.” A massive cheer erupts from the mouths of everyone in the waiting room- myself included.

“Can we see her?” Charlotte asks excitedly.

“Mother and daughter are sleeping,” Dan says. “Believe me when I say they both need some rest! Go home, we’ll still be here tomorrow morning.” After everyone in the waiting room- including the camera crew- congratulates Dan personally (the men with handshakes, the women with hugs), the crowd (minus Dan and the four new grandparents) head out into the cool morning air.

“Almost can’t believe it,” I sigh as I slump into the passenger seat of Stuart’s car, whilst Krystie and Paul Kennedy let themselves into the back seat.

“I know,” Paul sighs. “Everyone got their presents ready?”

“Of course,” Krystie says smugly. “Stu, can you drop me at home? I came to the hospital in a hurry, all my stuff for the baby’s still there…”

“Yeah, same here please,” Paul asks.

“Sure thing,” Stuart says, trying not to yawn as we drive along the deserted early morning streets of London. By the time we arrive back at my place, the Sun is already starting to rise, neatly contrasting our exhausted bodies, which collapse in bed almost immediately as we enter my bedroom.

We both wake up just after 9:30am, and with it being a Saturday, neither of my parents have been up for long by the time we tiredly slog down the stairs, still wearing the clothes we’d worn the night before.

“So?” Mum asks. “Any news?” I can’t help but smile an exhausted smile at mum’s enthusiasm.

“Seven pounds, ten ounces, I think they said,” I say, making both my parents laugh and clap their hands with delight.

“Brilliant!” Dad says. “Then why, pray tell, are her godparents not there fussing over her?”

“We only got in at 5am!” Stuart whinges. “Mary was in labour forever, Dan sent us all home. Poor guy looked exhausted himself…”

“Well now that they’ve had a chance to rest,” mum orders, “get yourselves cleaned up and get back down there! You’ve got a goddaughter to fuss over!”

Okay, okay,” I sigh. “But just so you’re aware, ‘god-grandparents’ isn’t a real thing…”

“We can wait for real grandchildren,” dad laughs as Stuart and I finish our breakfast and trudge upstairs, taking turns to shower (whilst Stuart’s in the shower, I also take the opportunity to dilate) before changing into fresh clothes- Stuart keeps a clean pair of jeans and a few t-shirts at my house for just this occasion, whilst I pull on a cute knee-length patterned summer dress over a light blue tank leotard. After Stuart’s dressed, I find myself smiling happily at Stuart as he gathers together our gifts for the new family. Unable to stop myself from giggling, I skip over to the young man and give him a light kiss on the lips.

“Umm, thanks, but what was that for?” Stuart asks, confused by my suddenly happy mood.

“For being the best godfather ever,” I reply.

“I’ve not even met my new goddaughter yet!” Stuart laughs. “But, if you insist…” Stuart then surprises me by placing a long, soft kiss on my freshly-made up lips, which soon curve upwards into a huge smile.

“Let me guess- that’s for being the best godmother in the world?” I ask.

“You said it!” Stuart laughs as we head down to his car and back to the hospital, where the newest member of the ‘Angel family’ awaits us.

When we arrive at the hospital, our arms full of presents, Dan escorts Stuart and I- along with Krystie and Paul- directly into the bright, clean hospital room, where Mary is sat upright in bed, cradling in her arms the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life.

“Oh, Mary!” Krystie squeaks, immediately bursting into tears at the sight of the infant girl. Visibly too tired to even speak, Mary simply giggles as Krystie and I sit down next to her and her daughter.

“She’s beautiful,” I blub between my own floods of tears.

“She is,” Mary whispers in a hoarse voice. I look back at the boys, and am almost shocked when I see Stuart wipe away a solitary tear of his own.

“Come on, BOYS!” Krystie admonishes the two men, who come and sit down in the spare seats next to us.

“Kristina-Leigh, these two people are men,” Krystie says in a soft, child-friendly voice. “As you grow up you’ll discover that with the possible exception of your daddy, they’re all completely useless, but can be fun to be around anyway.”

“Once you’re eighteen!” Mary whispers to her newborn, giving her a soft kiss on the forehead. “I would offer to let you hold her, but… god, this sounds so lame… I really don’t want to put her down!”

“I’ve barely had a chance to hold her yet!” Dan jokes, sitting on the bed next to his wife.

“Have you had a photo taken yet?” Paul asks, getting out his camera.

“Not yet,” Mary says. “The exclusive’s all yours!” Paul laughs happily as he takes a photograph of the 3 Carters.

“Now one with all the godparents!” Mary says happily, before shouting outside her room. “Dad, can you take a photo?”

“Of course!” Mr Logan says, hurrying into the room to take the photograph of all seven of us. “Right. Grandparents next!”

“Took the words out of my mouth,” Dan chuckles as we godparents (minus Paul, the cameraman) are ushered out of the cramped room to make way for Mary’s and Dan’s parents. Once the photos are complete, we’re ushered back in to find Dan holding his daughter and Mary laid back in her bed.

“When will you be back on your feet?” Krystie asks.

“Gonna be a couple of weeks,” Mary sighs. “Doctors say I can go home on Monday morning, can’t wait to show Kristina-Leigh her new nursery!”

“That I spent the last 6 weeks building!” Dan interjects.

“Well I was hardly gonna build it, was I?” Mary asks with a laugh, taking her daughter back from her husband. “God, I’ve gotta start shifting all this baby weight now… Not to mention breastfeeding…”

“Whoa,” Paul says, averting his eyes.

“Wuss!” Krystie laughs, giving her ex-boyfriend a playful elbow in the ribs.

“Anything you need, anything at all, call on us day or night,” I offer, my fellow godparents immediately concurring.

“She’s so lucky to have the best honorary aunts and uncles in the world,” Dan says, smiling at the tiny girl.

“AND the best parents in the world!” Krystie says, shifting up next to Mary, who immediately rolls her eyes upon sensing what her best friend REALLY wants.

“Oh, go on then,” Mary giggles, handing Kristina-Leigh to Krystie. “Just make sure you support her head! And don’t hold her too tight!”

“I’ve got two little brothers!” Krystie laughs. “Not to mention loads of cousins… None of them were as beautiful as this little girl!” After giggling in the infant girl’s face, Krystie then hands her to me.

“I’ve got no younger siblings or cousins,” I explain as I nervously cradle Kristina-Leigh in my arms. “So feel free to boss me around!”

“You’re doing fine,” Mary says with a warm smile as I gently kiss the tiny baby’s forehead.

“God, you are just the sweetest thing, aren’t you?” I ask the gently squirming infant. “You’ve got such a wonderful life ahead of you, with wonderful parents and honorary aunts and uncles who’ll do ANYTHING for you…”

“And godmothers and godfathers,” Stuart says, gently taking Kristina-Leigh from my arms and cradling her with relaxed ease. After Paul has a turn holding Kristina-Leigh, the infant girl is handed back to her waiting mother.

“You know,” Mary muses, “when I first got pregnant, I thought that’d be it, my life ruined, my career in tatters… But looking at her now, I’d happily give it all up for her.”

“Lucky for you, you don’t have to,” I say, making Mary laugh quietly. “Speaking of career… There’s kinda been a camera crew out there for the past 24 hours…”

“Joshua?” Mary sighs.

“Yep,” I reply, nodding along with the rest of the room.

“Send them in then,” Mary laughs.

“You can tell she’s gonna be a superstar,” Krystie laughs as we clear out of the room. “First TV appearance and she’s not even a day old!”

With the camera crew and Kristina-Leigh’s grandparents occupying the hospital room, Stuart and I decide to head home, still feeling tired after the long night and short rest. After dilating again, I pull my thin leotard back on and climb under my lightweight bed sheets, falling asleep almost as my head hits the pillow. I wake up a few hours later to find Stuart’s arms wrapped around my tiny waist, his fingers groggily playing with the stretchy material covering my body.

“Hey,” I say, giving the slumbering young man a gentle kiss. “Wake up…”

“I’m awake,” Stuart complains, returning my kiss. “What time is it?”

“Just after 4pm,” I reply, unwrapping myself from Stuart’s embrace and pulling my dress and shoes back on. “We should probably get back to the hospital.”

“Oh come on,” Stuart laughs. “We’ve got 18 years to fuss over Kristina-Leigh…”

“Yeah,” I laugh. “ONLY 18 years. So the sooner we get started, the better!”

“God, I feel so grown-up,” Stuart chuckles. “Thought it was bad enough when Emma and Lee got engaged last month, now we’ve got babies popping out all over the place…”

“One baby hardly constitutes ‘all over the place’,” I giggle.

“Yeah, but you know she won’t be the last,” Stuart says as we head off in his car. “Only question is: which Angel will be next to be a mother?” I can’t help but muse over Stuart’s words as we head into the busy city: he is of course correct, our ‘gang of girls’ has become a ‘gang of women’ almost overnight. Nothing will ever be the same any more, and yet, as I think back to the angelic face of the baby I held in my arms, I can’t help but feel that things have changed for the better.

When we return to the hospital, we’re unsurprised to find paparazzi camped outside, whom we smile and wave for as we head into the reception.

“Would it not have been polite to tell them that Mary won’t be discharged until Monday?” Stuart asks.

“They’re fine,” I giggle as we greet the assembled masses- Charlotte, Hannah, Krystie and Nikki are all present, as are Keith and Nikki’s girlfriend.

“Seen her yet?” I ask my BFF, who squeaks excitedly in response.

“She is just the most beautiful thing EVER!” Charlotte enthuses. “Kinda wish I had one of my own…”

“Nah, you don’t,” Keith says, giving his girlfriend a gentle kiss. “Not yet anyway.”

“Ah shit,” Stuart whispers, gripping my hand tighter. “What’s HE doing here?”

“Who?” I ask, looking around and groaning as my eyes meet the black eye of Paul Gould. Almost immediately, Paul walks over to our little group.

“Hi Jamie,” Paul says, looking warily down at Stuart. “Hi Keith, Charlotte, long time no see!”

“Paul,” Keith says stoically, shaking Paul’s hand.

“Just thought I’d come to give the baby this,” Paul says, pulling a small pink teddy bear out of the carrier bag he was carrying. “How’s Mary doing?”

“The woman you exchanged maybe 20 words with in the 16 months we were going out?” I ask smugly. “She’s fine.”

“Doesn’t mean we’re not friends,” Paul shrugs.

“Yeah, it kinda does,” Keith says.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, then,” Paul corrects himself. “And besides, I still keep in touch with Dan.”

“Um, he didn’t invite you to his wedding, did he?” Stuart asks, provoking an angry glare from Paul.

“Just-“ Charlotte says, silencing everyone. “Just go and give your gift, say hi to Dan and Mary, then it’d be best if you left.”

“Supposing I want to stick around a while longer?” Paul asks.

“I STRONGLY recommend you don’t,” Keith says threateningly. Keeping his eyes locked on Stuart- despite Keith being the one who issued the threat- Paul walks off in the direction of Mary’s room. Almost immediately, I can feel Stuart’s hand begin to tremble in mine.

“Ah crap,” Stuart sighs, taking a deep breath and sitting down in one of the hospital chairs.

“Don’t see why you’re so tense mate,” Keith says, sitting down next to Stuart. “You’re the one who gave him that beauty!”

“Yeah, not my finest hour that,” Stuart mumbles.

“You think I DIDN’T want to pummel him at least once?” Keith laughs. “I had 16 months of the twat!”

“Oh, you got on at times,” I laugh, Charlotte backing me up with a nod.

“Okay, he wasn’t all bad,” Keith sighs.

“I’m better though, right?” Stuart asks me with an expectant pout.

“Yes,” I mock-sigh, giggling as I give Stuart a big hug. “MUCH better!”

After spending the evening with the new family, Stuart and I head to a nearby restaurant for some dinner. With me in my casual dress and Stuart in his jeans, we’re not exactly dressed for a date, but after the confrontations of the last few days, a date is precisely what we both need right about now.

“I’ve got to admit,” Stuart says as he holds out my chair for me, “this has probably been the most hectic few days of my life!”

“Tell me about it,” I giggle. “I mean, I’ve had a few mad weeks in the past, but this is up there with the maddest of them.”

“I’m just glad,” Stuart says, gently squeezing my hand, “that I’m sharing the madness with you.”

“To the madness!” I say, raising my empty wine glass in a toast.

“To the madness!” Stuart laughs, clinking his empty wine glass against mine, much to the bemusement of the other diners.

An hour later, with our bellies full of food and our mouths full of laughter- despite me only having one glass of wine and Stuart not drinking ANY alcohol- we head home, where I dilate one final time before climbing under my bed sheets, cuddling up against my sexy boyfriend.

“Mmm,” Stuart sighs contentedly. “I hope- I hope you’re not expecting sex tonight, I’m utterly knackered…”

“Same here,” I sigh. “Get some sleep, gorgeous!” Stuart giggles and gives me a long, soft kiss before turning out the light. Needless to say, both of us are asleep within seconds.

I wake up the following morning to discover Stuart already up and dressed, much to my disappointment.

“Morning babe,” Stuart says, leaning in and giving me another long kiss. “I told you I’m out with the family all day, right?”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “Remind me again why I, as your girlfriend, was not invited?”

“Because my dad’s got a very old-fashioned view of ‘family’,” Stuart replies. “Lee’s not even going and he and Emma are getting married in a few months, Riley’s not going either, then again dad’s never been the biggest fan of him!”

“God help Kristina-Leigh’s first boyfriend,” I chuckle.

“Or girlfriend,” Stuart says with a knowing smile. “Keep an open mind, MISS Burke…”

“Of course, MISTER Milton…” I chuckle as Stuart gives me a goodbye kiss. “See you tomorrow at ballet.”

After Stuart leaves, I dilate and shower, before dressing in a comfortable cotton bra and panty set, followed by a long pink t-shirt dress and a pair of high wedges. I actually find I miss wearing higher heels when I’m with Stuart- he’s only 2 inches taller than me, so if I wear heels or wedges higher than 4” I tend to overshadow him! Before I leave the house, I check my iPad for any new notifications, and roll my eyes when I see a new message on it from Paul Gould.

‘hey,’ the message reads. ‘Sorry I was an arse at the hospital, I was genuinely there to see Dan & Mary, didn’t even know if you’d be there.’

‘S’OK,’ I type in response. ‘Probably best if we co-ordinate so you don’t run into Stuart again!’

‘Yeah,’ Paul replies before I have a chance to close down the messaging app. ‘God knows I’m getting the piss taken out of me for being beaten up by a man who used to be a woman…’

‘More piss than for going out with a woman who used to be a man?’ I type. I actually pause before sending the message- Paul’s endured a lot of shit this weekend, after all- but what I typed is far from unfair. I hit send, and await his inevitable response.

‘I clearly need better friends,’ comes Paul’s response, making me giggle. ‘You heading to the hospital today?’

‘Yeah, just on my way there now, actually,’ I type. ‘Stuart’s not coming as he’s out with his family all day.’

‘His parents don’t consider you family?’ Paul replies. ‘God knows my parents loved you… well, more than your parents loved me, at any rate…’

‘Lol,’ I reply. ‘g2g now, but talk soon, okay?’

‘Sure,’ Paul replies before I click off my iPad and head out to my car, smiling happily as I drive to the hospital.

As I arrive at the hospital, the sight of a very expensive silver Mercedes-Benz in the car park puts a devilish idea in my head, and when I see the owner of the posh car in the hospital reception, I can’t help but put my idea into action.

“Joshua Benedict!” I boom in my best impersonation of the man himself, making both he and his wife turn around with wide grins on their faces.

“Jamie-Lee Burke!” Joshua yells back between giggles. “Here to see the little bundle of joy?”

“Of course!” I reply. “And she really is… I can’t believe how beautiful she is! I thought all newborns were supposed to look like Winston Churchill!”

“As if the baby of an Angel would be anything other than heavenly!” Joshua chuckles, before sighing. “I know I shouldn’t be so selfish but I kinda wished Mary would’ve waited a few years before having children.”

“For the show?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Joshua replies. “I marketed it as six young girls enjoying life, when the reality is that you’re six young women, all grown up. I love all six of you like you were my own daughters, but… I kinda wish I had some younger models to market as, say, a new Angel group. Models who were around 18 or 19, who aren’t growing up so fast!”

“Understandable,” I say. “Can’t be sexy models if we’re rushing home to change nappies every few hours. Though your wish for a teen model will come true, if you wait about 17 or 18 years!” Joshua bursts out laughing at my quip.

“I doubt Dan would let me promote Kristina-Leigh,” Joshua replies. “It’s even less likely that Judith will allow me to still be working in 18 years’ time!”

“18 MONTHS is pushing it,” Joshua’s middle-aged wife confirms.

“Oh, now,” Joshua says with his trademark grin. “Are the millions I’ve made over the last few years not enough?”

“YES,” Judith says firmly. “Hence why you need to start thinking about your retirement!”

“I’m fifty-three, I’m hardly geriatric!” Joshua complains. I giggle as Joshua and Judith have possibly the most playful argument of all time- she’s clearly as besotted with him as he is with her. I genuinely, genuinely hope that in thirty years’ time, I have a relationship as happy and loving as theirs- and I also wish I was 100% certain who I want that relationship with.

After spending over an hour fussing over my goddaughter and her mother (whose strength has returned REALLY quickly), I exit the hospital and almost literally run into Nikki and Sarah heading into it.

“Hey girls,” I say happily. “Here to see Mary?”

“Of course!” Nikki says with a smile. “Would you believe Sarah’s never actually met her?”

“Her bark is worse than her bite,” I say to Nikki’s girlfriend, who giggles in response.

“It’s so cool that Nikki gest to hang around with such awesome people,” Sarah gushes.

“AND gets paid for it,” I say, making the teenaged T-girl roll her eyes.

“It’s Sunday! It’s my day off!” Nikki complains. “I won’t be putting this on my timesheet, honest!”

“I believe you,” I say, giggling with the two teenagers. “Go and get your baby cuddles!” Nikki and Sarah both giggle harder, waving goodbye to me as they head into the vast building. In a way, I can’t help but envy them. It may sound egotistical, but Sarah’s right when she says how lucky Nikki is that she gets to hang out with the Angels (though in fairness, she does work REALLY hard). When I was 17 I was living in poverty with no job, no friends and no idea what to do with my life. Nikki and Sarah clearly have everything all sorted out, AND are young enough to enjoy all their life to come.

I spend the rest of the day at home, updating my blog and YouTube channel, responding to messages and writing my magazine columns- all things I’ve barely had a chance to do the past few days! I eventually climb into bed at 10pm after a final dilating session, checking my phone once I’m under the covers to discover messages from both Paul AND Stuart.

‘Hey, hope you had fun with Kristina-Leigh today,’ Paul’s message reads.

‘Hey, missing you loads, hope you gave my love to our goddaughter!’ Stuart’s message reads. Smiling happily, I send off quick replies to both messages before getting my head down on my pillow and drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

My alarm wakes me the following morning at 7:30am, and after dilating, showering and applying a moderate layer of make-up, I giggle excitedly as I pull a pair of soft pink tights over my legs, following up with a tight black tank leotard, a loose summer dress and my canvas ballet slippers before grabbing my dance bag and heading down to my car. Three months from my operation doesn’t just mean I can have sex, it also means I can finally rejoin my friends for our regular Monday ballet lessons, and not a moment too soon! My mobility isn’t back to what it was before my operation, but I’m at about 98%, and that’s more than enough to dance a few steps, even en pointe.

When I pull up outside the dance studio, I’m unsurprised to find Hannah’s car parked outside, with the tall girl and her dark-haired BFF waiting for me inside in their skimpy dance gear.

“Heyyy,” I say, greeting Viks with a hug. “I’ve hardly seen you the last few days!”

“Sorry,” Viks grimaces. “Ever since I graduated my family have been holding me hostage, panicking that I’m gonna move out at a moment’s notice!”

“You’re 21, if you want to move out, that’s your decision and their problem if they’re not okay with it!” Hannah jokes.

“You’ve known my dad for ten years!” Viks retorts. “You know that’s easier said than done!”

“And they’ve still got your little brothers living at home,” Hannah says.

“Yeah, but I’m still the only girl,” Viks sighs. “If it was up to dad I’d be wrapped in cotton wool for the rest of my life…”

“If it makes you feel any better,” I say, “you’re not the only Angel who still lives with her parents, and that’s not gonna change for a long while!”

“Aww,” Charlotte pouts, having silently made her way into the reception area. Sensing that I’ve made a faux pas, I give my BFF a long, tight hug.

“Guess I’m not sleeping at my parents’ tonight,” I laugh, making Charlotte hug me again. Our ‘gang’ is soon joined by Nikki and Sarah- both wearing street clothes as neither girl can dance en pointe yet, so they’ll be watching the ‘lesson’- and Becca and Adeola in their dancewear, escorted by my boyfriend.

“Hey sexy,” I whisper, giving Stuart a long kiss. “Missed you yesterday. ESPECIALLY last night!” Stuart giggles, though from the way he’s fidgeting, I can tell he’s uncomfortable.

"I talked to Joshua yesterday," I continue. "The whole 'punchgate' thing's pretty much blown over already. Babies make the world better!"

"Good," Stuart replies with an awkward smile. "And yes, yes they do!"

“Are you okay?” I ask as Stuart’s shoulders continue to fidget.

“I’m fine, honestly,” my boyfriend replies, giving me another soft kiss. “I’ll tell you when we get home. Well… More ‘show’ you then ‘tell’ you.”

“Ooh, ‘show and tell’,” I joke. “Sexy!”

“You’ll see,” Stuart says, taking a seat next to Sarah and Nikki whilst Krystie ties my bun and gets the ‘lesson’ started. After 40 minutes, I- along with the other five ‘students’- exchange my soft ballet slippers for my pointe shoes, and as soon as I start running through the pointe exercises it’s like I’d never taken a break from dancing. At the end of the lesson, I even dance a brief 2-minute routine en pointe, much to the delight of the assembled crowd!

Once the lesson ends, I pull my dress back on over my leotard and put my beloved pointe shoes back in their bag, slipping on a pair of black ballet flats instead. We’re just about to leave the studio when we’re treated to the most pleasant surprise imaginable.

“Yoo-hoo!” A familiar Northern Irish voice calls from reception. “Anyone home?” Giggling happily, Krystie opens the studio door, allowing Mary (who’s still somewhat unsteady on her feet), Dan and Kristina-Leigh- asleep in her father’s arms- into the cavernous room. After everyone gives Mary a hug, they- myself included- immediately head over to the sleeping baby, making as big a fuss as possible out of the tiny girl.

“She’s so beautiful!” Becca coos, almost bouncing up and down with happiness.

“Thank god she gets her looks from her mother,” Dan jokes, handing Kristina-Leigh to Mary.

“Nah,” Mary says. “She’s got all her dad’s best features!”

“Take a good look at this room, Kristina-Leigh,” Krystie jokes. “This is where you’re going to be spending a lot of your life becoming the most beautiful ballerina of all time, just like your mum!”

“God, I can’t wait to get back to dancing,” Mary sighs.

“I can’t wait to get this precious little one in my toddler class,” Krystie jokes. “Especially on mother and daughter day!” Mary laughs, inadvertently waking her daughter, who makes a babyish grunt that melts the hearts of everyone present- even the boys.

“Think she’s hungry,” Mary says. “We’d better get her home- haven’t even been there yet, we came straight from the hospital!”

“You go,” Krystie says with a laugh. “We’ll be pestering you with babysitting offers night and day, right girls?”

“Right!” Everyone says excitedly, following the new family out onto the street and into their cars. I give Stuart a long kiss as I slide into the passenger seat of his car- much to the disgust of Becca and Adeola on the back seat!

“Get a room!” Stuart’s little sister laughs.

“You really want that mental image?” I retort.

“Ugh, no thanks,” Becca spits.

“Now you know how I feel every time I see you and Riley,” Stuart retorts.

“Yeah, well that’s teenage love,” Becca says. “You’re, like, grown-up love.”

“I’m 22 and your brother’s 24,” I say. “We’re hardly geriatric!”

“It’s still old from where I’m sitting!” Becca giggles. And, much as I hate to admit it, she does have a point, a point that’s been repeatedly made over the course of the past week. Even though I still live with my parents, even though I’m still wearing a ballet uniform, even though when I get home I’ll probably play on my Xbox, I AM older and mature… And lucky in that I enjoy all the responsibilities- like that of godmother- that are coming my way.

…And I’m especially lucky that I have someone to share these responsibilities with, as Stuart reminds me when we arrive at Charlotte’s house by grabbing my hand and leading me upstairs to my bedroom.

“Okay,” I say, “what’s this big ‘thing’ you need to show me?” Stuart smiles an embarrassed smile as he strips off his jeans and his t-shirts to reveal opaque black tights, a sleeveless white leotard… and a MASSIVE bulge in his crotch.

“Oh my god!” I giggle as Stuart assumes a masculine ballet pose. I quickly strip out of my dress and tie my pointe shoes to my feet, performing a few steps of my own, much to Stuart’s delight.

“Here I was thinking you’d never wear women’s clothing again,” I giggle, rising en pointe and wrapping my arms around Stuart’s neck.

“That’s why this is all male ballet clothing,” Stuart explains. “Men’s tights and a man’s leotard, contradiction in terms that that is.”

“You know, leotards were originally men’s clothing, they were named after that French guy?” I say, feeling smug about my superior knowledge.

“Yeah, but not the one you’re wearing!” Stuart laughs. “You know I actually used to do ballet? I quit when I was 10, for obvious reasons.”

“I would say ‘I bet you looked cute in your uniform’,” I giggle, “but I know that wouldn’t go down well, and you couldn’t possibly have looked as cute as you look now!” I give Stuart a long kiss on his lips. “Did your ballet-teaching ex-girlfriend know this about you?”

“It… kinda… never came up,” Stuart laughs, returning my kiss.

“Speaking of coming up,” I ask, playfully grabbing Stuart’s bulge, “what, pray tell, is this?”

“Men’s socks,” Stuart says, laughing as he grabs my hips and lifts me above his head. I laugh hard as he spins me around, before lowering me onto his body, which I eagerly wrap my slender legs around. I kiss Stuart long, and deep, and it’s not long before our leotards and our tights are on a pile on the floor and we’re underneath my bed sheets, tightly locked in a passionate embrace.

Yeah, I may be a grown-up, but like the old saying goes: You’re only as old- or as young- as you feel.

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

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

“Hip hip!” Stuart yells.

“Hooray!” The crowd enthusiastically responds.

“Everybody, please,” I say, cringing with embarrassment.

“Hip hip!” Stuart yells again.

“Hooray!” The crowd shouts, even louder than before.

“Hip hip!” Stuart yells.

“HOORAY!” The five girls stood behind me- all dressed in identical tutus that are just slightly less fancy than my own- scream in my ear, making me nearly freak out with excitement!

“Aww, you guys!” I squeak. “AND girls!”

“I can’t believe my little girl’s really twenty-three years old,” Dad says, his voice gushing with pride. “I love you, Jamie, and I am so very, very proud of you.”

“I love you too, dad,” I say, wiping a tear away from my eye. “I love you all!” The Angels take this as a sign to rush in and smother me in a tight group hug- fortunately we’re wearing romantic tutus rather than stiff net ones, so there’s no risk of crushing our beautiful costumes! Naturally, mum insists on having a photo taken of me, her and dad, which Nikki is more than happy to take for us. Photos of all the Angels are taken, and Nikki's camera is in danger of running out of memory when Dan approaches the group with his daughter in his arms.

“Ahh,” Mary sighs, cuddling the little girl- who for the occasion is wearing a tiny tutu of her own over her romper!

“Like mother, like daughter,” Krystie coos over the infant. “She is going to be SO talented when she’s older, aren’t you, Kayleigh?”

“Her name is Kristina-Leigh!” Mary laughs.

“Exactly,” Krystie says smugly. “Thus K-Leigh for short.

"Fine, but is she calls herself Kayleigh, I'm suing!" Mary giggles. "And yes, yes she is going to be so talented, aren't you, gorgeous?" Mary sighs happily as she gives her daughter a quick kiss on her forehead. "Especially given that she is technically already a model!"

“She looks SO cute in her little tutu!” Hannah squeaks excitedly.

“God, you know there’s gonna be a screaming fit when I try to take it off of her!” Mary says, causing a mass giggling fit as the infant becomes the centre of attention- not that I mind, of course, given that she is my goddaughter! "In addition to 'model', you can add 'drama queen' to the list of things she'll be when she gets older..."

“Hey,” Krystie laughs. “I should get a picture of the two of you with you en pointe!”

“Is that really a good idea?” Mary asks. “Balancing en pointe whilst holding a baby?”

“You’ve been dancing en pointe for half your life,” Krystie sighs. “And Dan can stand by to support you in case you wobble, right Dan?”

“Um, apparently, yes,” Dan laughs at his sudden volunteering. After the photo is taken, I quietly sneak away from the cooing masses, heading toward where my sexy boyfriend is sat with his two sisters.

“You were so cool!” Rebecca squeaks, giving me a hug before Stuart has a chance.

“You were,” Emma giggles. “God I wish I’d tried harder at ballet, I could never dance as well as that!”

“Thanks,” I say with a wide smile on my immaculately made-up face. “But you really need to give all the credit to that talented lady of there!” I point back at Ellen, who’s sat in the audience, beaming with pride at how the Angels perfectly performed her elaborate choreography.

“I’ll be sure to thank her for making the most beautiful girl in the world even MORE beautiful,” Stuart says, giving me a long, tender kiss. “I wish we could just spend the rest of the night together…”

“Get a room,” Emma & Rebecca say simultaneously, giggling at the coincidence.

“I’m trying!” Stuart complains, making me giggle too.

“I won’t stay out late, I promise,” I say, giving Stuart another tender kiss.

“Yeah, yeah,” Stuart laughs tiredly. “I love you, Jamie.” I sigh happily and wrap my arms around Stuart’s waist, not even bothering to acknowledge the hundreds of photos that are being taken of us.

“I love you too,” I say.

“Hey!” Charlotte calls over at our small group. “Save some Jamie for the rest of us!” Stuart laughs as he gives me another kiss, before letting me skip back to the other Angels.

Just over an hour later, after the crowd- minus the Angels- have vacated Krystie’s dance studio, the six of us gather in a small corner of the vast hall to change from our ostentatious tutus and pointe shoes into our outfits for the night.

“First girls’ night out as a 23 year old!” Mary teases as we apply our typically excessive clubbing make-up in the studio’s huge mirror.

“What about you?” I tease back. “First girls’ night out as a yummy mummy!”

“Yeah, sorry about Kristina-Leigh today,” Mary says quietly.

“What have you got to be sorry about?” I laugh. “I LOVE Kristina-Leigh. Now come on, do my ring finger!” Mary giggles happily as she applies a coat of emerald green nail polish to the nails on my ring fingers in what has quickly become an Angel tradition. The six of us will each pick a colour and paint the nails of one of the other’s fingers (well, pair of fingers) so that we all have the colours of the others with us at all times. In addition to the sparkly green polish on my ring fingers, I have jet black polish on my pinkies from Viks, pale lilac polish on my middle fingers from Hannah, neon pink on my index fingers from Krystie and glittery scarlet polish on my thumbnails from my BFF! My colour is the same sapphire blue I wore on my nails to the Angels premiere at the end of last year- and whilst blue may be seen (incorrectly, I should add) as a masculine colour, this particular shade is utterly GORGEOUS and is my absolute favourite nail polish. Of course, when the makers of the nail polish found this out, I ended up with several years’ worth of it!

After fixing my make-up, I strip out of my tutu and pull on a very scanty lace bra and G-string set. In the five months since my operation, my scars have faded to the point where they’re almost- but not quite- invisible. Everything ‘down there’ feels and looks like it’s meant to be there, and it’s like I’ve had a vagina my whole life. I head over to Krystie- still clad in just my underwear- who unties my bun and curls my naturally-straight hair with her hot curling iron, before helping me apply a liberal layer of fake tan (whilst standing on a large towel, of course, to preserve Krystie’s floor). I then pull on my dress, a teeny tiny black dress that shows off a LOT of cleavage and a LOT of leg. I start to head to the exit, signifying my readiness to leave, when the other girls suddenly rush around me, forcing a sparkly silver tiara on my head and a shiny pink sash that reads ‘Birthday Girl’ on my body. Knowing better than to argue, I simply giggle and give my best friends a hug each. It’s not long before all six of us are made0up, fake tanned and dressed ready for a night to remember.

“Are we ready, girls?” Charlotte asks.

“Let’s do this,” Hannah yells excitedly.

“Goooo…” We all say, placing our hands on top of each other’s. “…Angels!” Once we’re out in the reception area of the studio, we pull our skyscraper heels onto our feet- mine are a particularly excessive pair of 6” platform stilettos- and head into the waiting Angelmobile.

“Where to, girls?” Joshua asks from the driver’s seat.

“Let’s let the birthday girl decide!” Krystie yells.

“This is OUR city now!” I say confidently. “The first club you see- THAT’s going to be ours!” The other Angels all cheer as Joshua drives us into the busy Friday night. Sure enough, we arrive at a bustling club mere minutes later, where we’re ushered past the waiting queue into the VIP area- and, of course, treated to a bottle of champagne on the house.

“To Jamie-Lee Burke!” Charlotte toasts once we’re all sat with full glasses of the sparkling expensive drink.

“Jamie!” The other Angels yell excitedly, clinking their glasses together.

“This is so cool!” I squeak. “This is the best birthday EVER!”

“You’re the best friend ever!” Charlotte yells, giving me a long, tight hug.

“I love you all so much,” I sigh. “This is the first time we’ve been all out together in ages!”

“Yeah, sorry, sorry,” Mary says, making the entire table roar with disagreement.

“Don’t you dare be sorry!” Krystie snorts. “Kayleigh is the most beautiful thing ever! Kinda wish I had one…”

“Me too,” Viks sighs dreamily.

“I’ll remember you said that when I have to wake up at 4:30am to feed her!” Mary jokes. “Which means, of course, that this will be my first AND last glass…”

“Got to keep the contents of your tits nice and pure, eh?” Krystie jokes.

“Mark my words, you’ll be knee-deep in nappies and puke before you know it,” Mary says in an almost threatening voice.

“Chance’d be a fine thing,” Krystie sighs. “Need to find myself a nice man first…”

“There are no NICE men!” Hannah yells.

“Except Stuart!” I retort.

“And Dan, househusband of the year 2014!” Mary yells.

“And Jonathan!” Viks shouts. There’s a brief pause as the table, as one, turns to stare at Charlotte.

“Oh, um, and Keith!” Charlotte shouts. “Sorry, was miles away, I’m going to be away all weekend doing some filming… Kinda means I’m gonna have to duck out early tonight, sorry!”

“Don’t worry, you won’t be any earlier than me,” Mary laughs. “I’ll be lucky if I make it to eleven…”

“…And if I stay out any later than that I get roasted when I return home,” Viks sighs. “I was lucky I was able to get away tonight…”

“For the love of GOD, move out!” Hannah yells frustratedly. “You can more than afford it! In fact- and correct me if I’m wrong- don’t you make more money from your Angels contract than both of your parents put together?”

“Not quite,” Viks replies. “But not far off!”

“They’ve got two other kids to boss around when you’re gone,” I say. “Time to spread your wings!”

“Says the 23 year old woman who also still lives with her parents!” Viks retorts.

“Yeah, well I have another home to move into any time I want,” I say, giving my BFF a playful cuddle.

“’Anytime she wants’,” Charlotte says jokingly.

“Anyway,” I say commandingly, “did I not hear Miss Fullerton and Miss Dexter complaining about not being able to find any nice men, when there’s a whole club full of nice- well, POTENTIALLY nice- men just a few feet away?” Hannah and Krystie both giggle excitedly as they head onto the dancefloor, closely followed by the rest of us. Even though we’d spent most of the afternoon practising for our routine and our feet are aching from hours in pointe shoes- not to mention our current footwear- we all dance like our lives depend on it, and by the time Mary, Charlotte and Viks depart just after 11pm, I am utterly exhausted, not just from the clubbing, but from the whole day. Sensing my tiredness, Hannah and Krystie summon Joshua and the Angelmobile back to the club, and after being bundled into the back of it, I’m driven home, where I sigh at the sight of my vast pile of gifts that still clutter my sofa.

However, it’s not a present that I want to ‘unwrap’ right now, but rather a very sexy young man who came downstairs to greet me, whom I greet in return with a long, deep kiss…

I wake up the following morning just after 8am, my body still wrapped around Stuart’s and my skin still tingling from the orgasms he ‘gifted’ me last night.

“Hey,” I whisper, softly kissing the slumbering man on the lips.

“Mmm,” Stuart moans dreamily, making me giggle. “Morning, beautiful. Can we just skip the rest of today?”

“I wish,” I sigh. “Wedding’s only 3 weeks away, you know we’re not going to get any more free time soon, not with mad week on the horizon…” Stuart laughs and gives me another soft kiss.

“Why do half of the Angels have their birthdays within 3 weeks of each other?” Stuart asks self-pityingly.

“Blame Hannah, she’s the youngest out of me, her and Mary!” I giggle.

“AND it’s your six month, um, ‘anniversary’ too,” Stuart says.

“It is indeed!” I say happily, reaching into my dresser drawer and pulling out a thick orange tube. “Speaking of which...”

“Yes, yes,” Stuart mock-sighs, getting out of bed and pulling on a clean pair of boxer shorts. “Can’t wait until I can be the one taking Orange’s place…”

“I can’t wait either,” I say with a smile as my boyfriend leaves me to dilate in peace.

After dilating, showering, pulling on a clean bra and thong and applying my make-up, I dress for the day in shiny black tights and a clingy, long-sleeved patterned playsuit, finishing with my designer sunglasses and a cute pair of flats- a perfect casual yet chic look for shopping for dresses to wear to a wedding. The wedding isn’t my own, obviously- nor is it one of the Angels’, but rather Stuart’s older sister Emma. Even though we’re prospective future sisters-in-law (and she came to my birthday yesterday), we’re not actually that close, so I’ve found myself on the ‘invited guests’ list rather than the bridesmaid list (though Becca is of course maid of honour). However, this still means I need to find a beautiful dress to wear to the ceremony and the reception!

…And it means that Stuart, the ever-stereotypical BOY, is going to spend the day complaining about being bored when he should really be gushing over how beautiful I look in the numerous designer frocks I’ll be trying on throughout the day.

“Ready!” I say, prompting Stuart to smile and give me a long, soft kiss.

“Why don’t you just wear that to the wedding?” Stuart asks, prompting me to give him a soft, playful punch in the ribs. “Hey, it was just a suggestion. You’ve also got at least seven new dresses in that massive pile of gifts downstairs.”

“None of them are right for the occasion,” I say as I wave goodbye to my parents and head into Stuart’s car.

“I’ve seen them,” Stuart says. “Whilst it’s something I’ve tried NOT to be an expert at, there are at least two dresses similar to ones I’VE worn to a wedding before.”

“Exactly,” I say. “You’d have been what, 13 or 14 at the time? I need something more appropriate to my age.”

“…But you’ll still wear those dresses anyway?” Stuart asks. “And the vast quantities of skirts, tops and all-in-ones in that pile?”

“Eh, maybe,” I shrug, making Stuart laugh tiredly.

“Oh, the life of a model’s boyfriend…” Stuart muses as we drive into the centre of London.

Needless to say, we spend all of the morning and most of the afternoon trying on dresses. Well, I try on dresses anyway- Stuart mostly sits around fiddling with his smartphone. I try on at least 25 frocks in 6 different shops, but none satisfy my needs.

“Need I remind you,” Stuart says, holding my hand as we walk around the posh boutique, “you’re the one who said ‘we’re not going to get any more free time soon’? You’re going to have to pick SOMETHING today…”

“Yes, yes, I know,” I sigh.

“Why don’t you see if Nikki’s girlfriend can make you a dress?” Stuart asks. “You’re always going on about how good her designs are…”

“She doesn’t really do commissions,” I sigh. “Besides, the situation there’s kinda complicated right now. Let’s have a look over here, some of these dresses look ‘October wedding’y…” As I turned the corner, however, I encountered a sight I was not expecting to see in a million years.

“P-Paul?” I blurt. Almost in slow motion, Paul Gould turns to face me, a surprised smile on his face.

“Jamie?” Paul asks. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s a fashion boutique,” I giggle. “Use your imagination! More relevantly, what are YOU doing here?”

“Who are you talking to?” Stuart asks. It should go without saying this his eyes go as wide as dinner plates when he sees who I’m talking to.

“YOU?” Stuart asks angrily. “What are YOU doing here? Did you plan this?”

“Stop being so paranoid!” I snap at my boyfriend. “Though that’s two people now who’ve asked you what you’re doing here…”

“Same thing he is,” Paul says smugly, smiling smugly as a tall- VERY tall- woman skips over to him wearing a knee-length red dress similar to one I’d tried on earlier. Even discounting her height- noticeably taller than the 6’ 1” Paul in heels- there’s something a little ‘off’ about the girl, and it doesn’t take long to deduce from her body’s and her face’s bone structure that she, like me, was not born female.

“Hey babe,” the tall girl says in a convincing feminine voice. “Saw this one and it’s soooo pretty! What do you think?”

“Gorgeous, babe,” Paul says, giving the tall girl a quick kiss. “Simone, I’d like you to meet a couple of friends of mine, this is-“

“Oh my god!” Simone squeaks upon seeing my face. “Are- are you Jamie-Lee Burke?” When I nod, the tall girl bounces up and down excitedly, before offering me a limp, feminine handshake.

“Oh my god!” Simone repeats. “I am such a HUGE fan of yours, you and the Angels! I couldn’t believe it when Paulie said he used to go out with you! Can I get a selfie with you?”

“Um, sure!” I say, taken aback by Simone’s excessive enthusiasm. After taking the selfie, I ‘present’ my still-unhappy boyfriend.

“This is Stuart, my boyfriend,” I say, causing Simone’s enthusiasm to instantly drain from her face.

“Oh,” Simone says, clearly uncomfortable- possibly even hostile- about Stuart’s presence. “Anyway, happy birthday for yesterday! I hope the other girls spoiled you rotten?”

“Of course,” I say smugly. “AND I’ve got a phone full of pictures that have Instagram written all over them!” Simone squeaks excitedly, bouncing up and down again.

“Girls, eh?” Paul says, earning a snort of laughter from Stuart. “Though, I guess you’d know better than anyone else…”

“Oooookay,” I say, placing a calming hand on Stuart’s chest and backing him away from Paul. “I’ve made up my mind- I want the blue dress with the light patterns.”

“Right,” Stuart says, still glaring at Paul.

“Nice meeting you, Simone!” I say to the tall girl, who is still herself glaring at my boyfriend.

“You too, Jamie!” Simone says sweetly as she and Paul walk off.

“That can’t be a coincidence, surely?” Stuart asks as I retrieve my chosen dress and head to the checkout.

“Oh, stop being paranoid,” I chastise.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Stuart sighs. “It’s just- that guy is a real button pusher, you know?” Stuart remains tense even as we leave the store, especially as we catch a glimpse of Paul and Simone walking down the street away from us.

“For what it’s worth,” I sigh as I collapse down in the passenger seat of Stuart’s car, “I didn’t check in anywhere on Facebook, I didn’t post what I was doing on twitter, there’s no way Paul could’ve known where we were.”

“Random coincidence that out of ten million people in this city, we run into that particular one?” Stuart asks.

“STOP. BEING. PARANOID.” I hiss, before grimacing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to spit, but- it- he’s just kinda a button pusher for me too, heh.”

“I think I know who I’d prefer to have pushing my body parts,” Stuart says, making me giggle happily.

“Tell you what,” I say, “I’ll call the girls and tell them to have girls’ night someplace else, without me. Let’s just have a night together, you and me.”

“I’d like that,” Stuart says softly. “…But I know how much you love Saturday nights in with the girls. Like Charlotte said yesterday, I’ve got to save some Jamie for the rest of them!”

“I’m your girlfriend,” I whine. “You can have me all to yourself if you want…”

“Oh, I intend to,” Stuart says with a twinkle in his beautiful eyes. “But… Your girls need you, Captain Burke!”

“Yes, sir!” I mock-salute, making us both giggle happily as Stuart drives me back home. Once we arrive home, even though it’s the middle of the afternoon AND my parents are both downstairs, I can’t help but launch myself at my sexy boyfriend the second I’ve hung my new dress up in my closet, pulling his clothes off and throwing him on the bed, where he quickly frees me from my playsuit and tights and stimulates me to orgasm after orgasm…

I reluctantly bid farewell to Stuart a couple of hours later, calling him back for kiss after kiss before he finally departs. As much as he may frustrate me at times… I do truly love him in a way I’ve never loved anyone before- certainly not Paul, and maybe not even Keith.

“I know that look,” mum teases as I collapse down on the sofa in my playsuit & tights. “That’s the look that says ‘I’d give anything just to have another minute with that boy’.”

“Ugh,” I sigh. “Am I THAT transparent?”

“You are when you’re in love!” Mum says. “When you’re with Stuart you just have this air of happiness about you.”

“I do really, really love him,” I say. “But- and I know this sounds silly- he can be a real pain in the arse at times.”

“He’s a MAN, darling,” mum says. “That’s not surprising!”

“Yes, yes, I know,” I say. “I just thought- because of how he was born-“

“That’s a bit like expecting you to understand what it’s like for a man,” mum says.

“But I DO,” I sigh. “I mean, I can understand why he feels the way he does at times, I just don’t understand why he has to be such an idiot about it.”

“That’s because you’re a WOMAN,” mum giggles.

“Yeah,” I giggle, smiling happily. My smile only widens a short while later when Mary arrives for girls’ night, pushing a stroller containing her beautiful daughter, who looks simply adorable in her soft pink onesie.

“Hey,” I say, giving Mary a hug and the giggling Kristina-Leigh a soft kiss on her forehead. “SO glad Dan let you bring this little one around for her first official girls’ night!”

“It was a pretty hard sell,” Mary sighs. “He didn’t need much persuasion to babysit last night, god, I think he’s bonding with her even more than I am!”

“Good,” I say. “Every girl should have an awesome dad in her life- not to mention, of course, the most awesomest mum ever!”

“I was amazed she recognised me when I got home last night,” Mary giggles as she takes the precious infant from her stroller and cradles her in her arms. “All the make-up and fake tan I had on…”

“Make-up and fake tan that she herself will be obsessed with in eighteen years’ time…” I giggle.

“DON’T,” Mary warns. “Just don’t. If Dan had his way he’d wrap Kristina-Leigh up in cotton wool for the rest of her life, and I’ve half a mind to let him!”

“You’re so lucky,” I sigh. “You’ve got a great husband, you’ve got this little thing…”

“I am,” Mary says with a content smile. “AND the best friends in the world!”

“Of course!” I giggle. Before too long, Krystie & Hannah have joined the ‘party’, closely followed by Becca, Adeola, Nikki and Sarah- all of whom immediately go gooey upon the sight of Kristina-Leigh.

“At least there’s a reason OTHER than me for there being no alcohol tonight,” Nikki sighs as she cradles the infant in her slender arms. “Suppose I’m going to have to get used to this, heh.”

“When’s your mum due again?” Hannah asks.

“Second week in January,” Nikki replies. “And yes, she’ll be a girl. Wouldn’t it be just awesome if she and Kristina-Leigh became friends?”

“I can guarantee that’ll happen,” Mary giggles. “If she’s anything like her sister, I’ll make sure she’s Kristina-Leigh’s BEST friend!”

“Speaking of ‘best friends’,” Krystie says to Hannah, “where’s Miss Brooks tonight? Hot date with a tall, dark, not-very-stranger?”

“Hot date with her little brothers,” Hannah sighs. “She’s been called in for babysitting duties again.”

“Oh what?” I ask. “Isn’t one of her brothers fifteen? God knows I was left alone in the house when I was that old…”

“Yeah, but you don’t have any brothers or sisters,” Hannah continues. “…And knowing Viks’s parents, I’d say it’s more likely that THEY’RE babysitting HER.”

“Why are they so protective?” Becca sighs. “I thought my dad was overprotective, but he lets me come out at night, AND I’m the youngest of three, not the oldest, AND I’m younger than Viks!”

“He’s always been weird about her,” Hannah sighs. “Probably why she never had any confidence growing up, he’d always panic that she’d run off with some loser and end up as a streetwalker addicted to heroin or something…”

“Kristina-Leigh, cover your ears,” I giggle.

“Same goes for you two!” Krystie laughs at Nikki and Sarah, who simply stick their tongues out in response.

“So yeah, he’d always try to shield her,” Hannah continues. “He didn’t let her wear any make-up- ANY make-up- until she was eighteen, whenever we went out to a club he’d insist that she’d get back early…”

“Sounds like he needs a serious attitude adjustment,” I muse.

“He DOES,” Hannah says, before a sly grin creeps across her face. “Fancy giving one to him?”

“What did you have in mind?” I enquire.

“You could always make him a portfolio of all the lingerie shoots Viks has done,” Nikki says, prompting a mass giggle.

“She said ‘attitude adjustment’, not ‘heart attack’,” Hannah giggles. “Though that’s not that bad an idea!”

The girls only stick around for a few hours as opposed to the usual late-night sessions our girls nights end up becoming. Mary departs first to put Kristina-Leigh to bed, followed by Krystie then the teenagers, leaving me alone with Hannah, who playfully snuggles up next to me on the sofa.

“So, are we ‘rescuing’ Viks tomorrow, then?” Hannah asks.

“If what you say is true, someone has to!” I giggle. “Though in a way I’m kinda jealous. I mean, when I was sixteen, my parents…”

“Aww,” Hannah says, giving me a quick cuddle. “But they love you NOW, and that’s all that matters!”

“You’re right,” I say. “Want to sleep over tonight?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Hannah laughs. “Unlike some, I don’t have a warm, sexy MAN waiting in bed for me…”

“Yeah, sorry, but my bed is a penis-free zone tonight!” I reply smugly.

“’Flesh and blood’ penis, I take it?” Hannah says, making me roll my eyes as I remember the thick orange tube waiting for me upstairs.

“Thanks for reminding me,” I sigh. “Can you give me a sec?”

“Sure,” Hannah says, releasing her cuddle as I head upstairs and start dilating. With fifteen minutes to kill (I obviously can’t move with the dilator inserted), I grab my iPad and open up Facebook, quickly browsing to Paul Gould’s profile.

‘Hey,’ I type. ‘Was that ACTUALLY a coincidence, us running into each other today?’

‘Swear to god,’ Paul replies. ‘Simone’s got a big uni ball coming up, she wanted a new dress… There are only a limited amount of posh dress shops in London, I know how much you love shopping, Simone’s the same way, it was bound to happen sooner or later.’

‘Lol,’ I reply. ‘So, um, Simone…’

‘Yes?’ Paul replies, leading to a brief pause in the conversation.

‘Are you deliberately enjoying making me squirm or shall I just come out and ask it?’ I type.

‘Ask what?’ Paul replies with a smiley face.

‘Oh for fuck's sake,’ I type. ‘You know what I’m going to ask.’

‘No, I don’t,’ Paul types with a winking smiley.

‘Has her name always been ‘Simone’?’ I type, hoping that I’ve been delicate enough to avoid crossing a line.

‘Well played,’ Paul replies. ‘And no, it hasn’t, and to answer your suspicions, yes, she is. She’s 20, been transitioning on hormones for the last six months.’

‘So she’s pre-op?’ I ask. ‘And she doesn’t mind going out without someone who cowers at the sight of a penis?’

‘Hilarious!’ Paul replies. “And yes, she’s pre-op, and yes, we have a sex life, and no, I’m not going into any further details as I’m a gentleman.’

‘That’s certainly a matter of opinion,’ I type whilst giggling happily. ‘Surprised you’re not embarrassed by what your friends will think about you being involved with a T-girl…’

‘Ugh, I deserved that,’ Paul replies.

‘Yes, yes you did,’ I type.

‘And you DIDN’T deserve it,’ Paul types, bring a tear to my eye. ‘Much like I didn’t deserve my black eye… Though Simone very nearly gave Stuart one on my behalf today!’

‘Lol,’ I type. ‘Got to go now, missing girls night!’

‘Heh, enjoy!’ Paul types. ‘Ttyl, Jamie.’ I put my iPad away and remove (and clean) my dilator before heading back downstairs, diving onto my sofa and attack-cuddling Hannah the exact same way she’d earlier ‘hugged’ me. It’s not long before we’re both in bed, getting an early night ahead of our ‘mission’ tomorrow.

The following morning, Hannah and I both wake early and take turns in the shower (I also take the opportunity to dilate whilst Hannah showers) before fixing our make-up and getting dressed. I opt for a clingy blue-grey long sleeved bodysuit, nude tights and a wavy knee-length skirt, whilst Hannah borrows one of my maxi dresses (that comes to just above her ankles when she wears it, of course). As we plan on recruiting the extra-tall Jonathan for our ‘mission’, we of course both pull on high heeled shoes. This confuses dad greatly when we say goodbye to him and he sees Hannah standing a full 2 inches taller than him!

“I am SO buying that bodysuit when I get home,” Hannah giggles, stroking my sleeve as we hop in my car. “It’d go great with hot pants.”

“I actually got it from a shoot a couple of months ago,” I say. “Ever since my SRS I’ve been getting endless amounts of underwear and dancewear shoots, it’s like everybody’s suddenly obsessed with my crotch…”

“Can you blame them?” Hannah giggles. “I’m sure it’s a very, very beautiful crotch…”

“Yes I CAN blame them,” I retort. “I’d like to think that I was more than just a vagina…”

“Well, you’ve met my ex-boyfriend,” Hannah sighs. “Got bad news for you: there are a LOT of men in the world who think that way.”

“Fortunately, I’M not going out with one of them,” I say with a smug smile. “And nor is Viks!” As if on cue, we pull up outside Jonathan’s house, where the tall dark-skinned man is already sat and waiting in his car (my car’s only got 2 seats so obviously we won’t all fit in it).

“Morning, girls!” Jonathan says as we pile onto his back seat. “I understand you’re planning on kidnapping my girlfriend, is that right?”

“More like ‘un-kidnapping’, um, ‘emancipating’ her,” I say. “Are her parents really as much of a nightmare as Han makes out?”

“Well they don’t like me, that’s for damn sure,” Jonathan sighs. “Dunno if it’s ‘cos I is black’, heh.”

“They’ve never been THAT BNP,” Hannah says. “I mean, they’re not MY biggest fans, I’m sure they thought I was ‘leading Viks astray’ when we were at school, then I got her signed to your uncle…”

“I’m sure if we go round there and just invite her on a day out, they can’t refuse, right?” I say. “I mean, her boyfriend and her best friend making a united front?”

“It might not help that we’ve been talking about moving in together,” Jonathan says quietly.

“Oh my god, that’s so cool!” Hannah squeaks.

“Yeah, well Viks’s parents aren’t gonna see it that way,” Jonathan sighs. “Their little girl shacking up with someone she’s known for less than a year…”

“Best then that we DON’T mention that when we pick her up,” I giggle as we drive into the outskirts of London.

When we arrive at Viks’s house, the three of us adopt an ‘excited’ exterior. The ploy is that we’re having a day out shopping, which we will actually briefly do, but our main concern is simply getting Viks out of her house. However, our carefully-laid plan hits a snag immediately after ringing her doorbell.

“Oh, hello girls, Jonathan,” Viks’s mother says upon seeing us on her doorstep. “I’m sorry, but we’re all heading out in a bit to see Vicky’s grandmother so she won’t be able to hang out with you today.”

“Oh, okay,” Hannah says, her plan in tatters.

“Can I come along?” Jonathan asks. “I don’t think I’ve ever met Viks’s grandmother.”

“I’m sorry Jonathan, but this is family only,” Mrs Brooks says politely.

“Can I at least say hi to Viks before she goes?” Jonathan asks, clearly desperate to see his girlfriend.

“She’s in the shower right now,” Mrs Brooks says, “but I’ll tell her you dropped by.” Defeated, the three of us slink off back to Jonathan’s car and drive away, confused by Mrs Brooks’s unusually hostile attitude.

“I didn’t hear any showers running,” Hannah mumbles.

“Do you suppose they actually will tell Viks I was there?” Jonathan asks.

“Eh, it’ll be hard for them to keep it from her,” Hannah says, hastily composing a text message. “Especially as I just texted her saying that we’re sorry we missed her and we hope she has fun at her grandma’s!”

“Ooh, you sneaky little minx,” I giggle. “Still, Viks or no Viks, still fancy that shopping trip?”

“Call Stuart Milton,” Jonathan says into his car phone. “There’s no way I’m being dragged around London on a shopping trip without some MALE company!”

“BOY!” Hannah and I laughingly yell.

After picking up Stuart, we start to head to the nearest posh boutique when I’m interrupted by the new text message alert on my phone.

‘Hey Jay!’ Reads the message from my BFF. ‘Got everything done quickly so coming back from Birmingham early. See you at mine this afternoon?’

‘On a shopping adventure with Hannah atm,’ I type. ‘What time you getting back?’

‘I’m on the train right now, be about half an hour,’ Charlotte replies near-immediately. ‘Don’t buy anything without me!!!’

‘As if we would,’ I type with a smiley.

“Jon, can we swing by Euston in a bit?” I ask.

“Ooh, is this Miss Hutchinson we’re picking up?” Hannah asks.

“Yep,” I reply happily. “So girls are going to outnumber boys today- exactly as it should be!”

A short while later, we pull up outside the vast railway station, and Hannah and I scooch over on the back seat to allow Charlotte to sit down. Immediately, however, I can tell that something’s up with her.

“You okay?” I ask the exhausted-looking girl.

“Just a long day’s filming, that’s all,” Charlotte sighs, her demeanour a far cry from her usual self (and how she seemed by text message). “I’m DEFINITELY up for some shopping, though!”

“Have the girls told you yet WHY they’re going shopping?” Stuart asks.

“Um, no?” Charlotte asks with a mixture of concern and confusion.

“Well, today, there actually is a reason other than retail therapy, which makes a nice change,” Stuart giggles, earning himself a playful whack from yours truly.

“They’re trying to kidnap my girlfriend,” Jonathan explains. “None of us have seen her in days- well, not since Jamie’s party, anyway- and it’s like her family’s holding her hostage.”

“Hostage?” Charlotte asks. “Seriously?”

“Well… Maybe a slight exaggeration,” Hannah concedes.

“You’re closer to her than anyone bar Jon or Han,” I say to my BFF. “Haven’t you noticed that she’s not been around as much as she used to be?”

“I guess a little,” Charlotte sighs. “You know I’ve been away a lot myself lately.”

“Yeah, when is Joshua going to get me one of these hosting gigs?” Hannah laughs.

“Oh come on,” I laugh. “Aren’t you making a boatload of money as it is?”

“Let’s put it this way,” Hannah giggles. “My credit card won’t know what’s hit it today!”

The five of us eventually return to Charlotte’s vast house just after 5pm, having spent most of the day (and a lot of money!) in several expensive clothing stores. Stuart, of course, complained that I’d bought myself two new dresses when we’d spent most of yesterday looking for just one, though he of course didn’t know- and didn’t care- that the dresses I bought today were completely inappropriate for October weddings. After Hannah, Charlotte and I ‘model’ our new clothes for Jonathan, Stuart and Keith, we all decide to get an early night- we have our usual ballet mornings on Monday, and Hannah, Charlotte and myself plan on being up early to ensure that Viks will be there too.

As I snuggle my naked body up against Stuart’s, I can’t shake the ‘plight’ of my dark-haired friend from my mind.

“I’m really worried about Viks,” I sigh. “She didn’t even reply to Hannah’s text…”

“She IS an adult, you know,” Stuart says, giving me a tender cuddle. “If she wants to go out and do her own things, surely her parents can’t permanently stop her?”

“Yeah, well Becca’s an adult too,” I say, sticking my tongue out at my boyfriend. “Hasn’t stopped you trying to wrap her in cotton wool.”

“If you try to ‘emancipate’ her, we’re breaking up,” Stuart jokes, sticking his tongue out at me. “Though I guess you’re right, both about her AND about Viks.”

“I just need to, you know, show that Viks’s life isn’t a danger to her,” I say. “Or whatever they’re worried about. I want us to be a sixsome again.”

“Eightsome,” Stuart says. “My sister and her best friend, remember?”

“Tensome, then, if we include Nikki and Sarah,” I giggle. “The point is… Without ALL of us, it just feels like there’s something missing.”

“Get some sleep,” Stuart whispers, giving me a soft kiss. I sigh happily and do as I’m told, falling asleep within seconds as Stuart holds me closer and closer to his body…

I wake up the following morning just after 7:30am, still tired despite my early night, and after showering and dilating, I pull on my regulation pink tights, followed by a tight black spaghetti-strapped leotard, a loose purple dress and a cute pair of black flats. After grabbing my dance bag, I knock on Charlotte’s door.

“Just a sec,” Keith yells from the other side of the door. “Charlie’s still in the bathroom.”

“Okay,” I yell back, to be greeted by the very groggy-looking face of my BFF mere seconds later.

“Ugh,” Charlotte moans. “Early mornings after travelling are KILLER. Come on, let’s get Hannah and let’s do this.” After waking the tall girl- who was sprawled out on the sofa- the three of us head back to Viks’s house in the Angelmobile (after a quick pit stop at Hannah’s house to allow her to change into her dance gear). As yesterday, we knock on Viks’s front door, and as yesterday, it’s Viks’s mum who answers.

“Oh, hello girls,” Mrs Brooks explains. “I’m sorry, but Vicky’s feeling under the weather and can’t come to ballet this morning.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Hannah says with fake innocence. “We’ve got plenty of time before the lesson, can we pop up and see her?”

“That’s not a good idea,” Mrs Brooks says.

“Is that Vicky’s friends?” A loud, male voice- undoubtedly Viks’s father- shouts from inside the house.

“Hi Mr Brooks,” Hannah shouts. “It’s Hannah, I’m here with Jamie and Charlotte, can we come in and see Viks, please?” the three of us all flinch slightly as the tall man comes to the door with a very stern expression on his face.

“Vicky’s very busy looking at university prospectuses,” Mr Brooks says with what almost sounds like anger in his voice.

“I thought she was unwell?” I ask innocently, earning the wrath of both of Viks’s parents.

“And I thought she wasn’t going to do any post-grad study,” Hannah interjects.

“Victoria,” Mr Brooks explains, “is worth more, MUCH more than just being a pretty face to put make-up on. She went to university for a career, and she’ll be doing post-grad study as she CARES about what she does with her life.”

“Everybody on this doorstep has made a very large amount of money from being, as you put it, ‘just a pretty face to put make-up on’,” Charlotte interjects, some anger in her own voice. “It’s not like we’re asking Viks to abandon her studies for the potential of a career- this is a career she already has. It sounds to me like you’re asking her to give up a successful career for the potential of something else.”

“Prancing around in tutus in front of a camera isn’t a ‘career’,” Mr Brooks argues.

“Tell that to my bank balance,” Hannah says, getting her phone out of her dance bag. “Better yet, tell it to Viks’s. Correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t she earn more money than you?”

“It. Can’t. Last,” Mr Brooks argues. “And now she’s filling her brothers’ heads with nonsense about ‘being a superstar’ as well. I can’t let my sons throw their lives away on a whim like Victoria has.”

“Surely it’s Viks’s decision what she wants to do with her life?” I say, momentarily silencing the middle-aged man.

“Hey Viks!” Hannah suddenly says into her phone. “We’re here to pick you up for ballet, where are you?” Mere seconds later, our dark-haired friend appears on the stairs behind her father dressed in her black leotard and pink tights, obviously ready for a dance lesson.

“Victoria, go back upstairs,” Mr Brooks orders in a stern, albeit not harsh tone.

“No,” Viks defiantly says. “It’s Monday morning, I have my dance class on Monday morning, and I intend to go to it.”

“I told you, go back upstairs,” Mr Brooks says in a considerably angrier voice. “You’re meant to be looking at universities!”

“And I will,” Viks says. “AFTER ballet.”

“Whilst you’re living under my roof, you’ll do as I say,” Mr Brooks says, earning a withering glare from his daughter.

“Do you REALLY want to play that card?” Viks sneers. Sensing that he’s been defeated, Mr Brooks steps aside and allows Viks to join us in the pink cab.

“Are you okay?” Hannah asks her BFF as I drive us to the studio.

“Yes,” Viks sighs. “No. God…” On cue, Charlotte and Hannah give Viks a long group hug as Viks lets out her worries.

“Dad’s been such a pain in the arse lately,” Viks explains. “He NEVER approved of me signing for Joshua, even though he came to the premiere in December he’s not watched a single episode of our show since. Even thinks I’m somehow ‘corrupting’ Andy and Phil.”

“Yeah, he said,” I interject.

“Isn’t one of your brother’s an aspiring actor?” Charlotte asks.

“Phil?” Viks asks. “Yeah. You know how much he loves you guys.”

“I remember when he was five years old,” Hannah laughs. “He’s dress up in one of your dresses and do a song and dance routine and your dad would go BALLISTIC!” Viks giggles at the memory- and I can tell it’s the first time she’s truly laughed in a while. “He’s actually in a play this evening, just a local thing done through his drama club at school. Dad thinks he’s at a football game, heh.”

“We should go!” Hannah says.

“Definitely!” I yell in agreement.

“Nah, it’d embarrass him too much,” Viks says, before I see a sly grin creep over her face in the rear-view mirror. “I’ll call up the theatre. We’re TOTALLY going!”

“Will ‘daddy’ approve, though?” Hannah asks.

“Ugh,” Viks spits. “That’s the question…”

“You’re a grown woman,” Charlotte says. “You can’t let him dictate to you anymore.”

“I know, I know,” Viks sighs. “It’s just- I love my father, if I fell out with him or stopped talking to him I’d be DEVASTATED…” In the rear-view mirror, I can see Charlotte give Viks an extra-tight hug- and immediately I’m reminded that out of all of us, Charlotte has no living parents, and before he died, her own relationship with her father was effectively destroyed.

“You have to do what YOU feel is right,” I say. “And your father needs to accept that his little girl is now an adult who can make her own choices.”

“Have you TRIED talking to him?” Viks sighs.

“For what felt like an hour before you came downstairs!” Hannah giggles.

After an hour and a half of dancing, the four of us- myself, Charlotte, Hannah and Viks- return to the Brooks’ home, where Viks’s father is waiting with a VERY angry look on his face.

“It’s a good job Andrew and Philip had already left for school so they didn’t have to see you disobey me like that,” the middle-aged man growls at his daughter as we let ourselves into his home. “You and I need to have a long talk. IN PRIVATE.”

“No,” Viks says nervously, gripping Hannah’s hand for support. “Anything you have to say to me you can say in front of my friends.”

“Your ‘friends’ are the whole reason we need to talk,” Mr Brooks grumbles. “I’ve put up with this ‘Angels’ nonsense long enough. When you signed for that damned agency you assured me it’d be a part-time, short-term thing, that it’d just be to make some extra pocket money and that it wouldn’t interfere with your studies.”

“And it didn’t,” Viks retorts. “I graduated, didn’t I? Now I’ve got my degree, I need a career. And- oh wait, I HAVE a career!”

“Prancing around in clothes is not a proper career!” Mr Brooks sneers, earning foul stares from all four models on his sofa.

“It may not be long-term,” Viks argues, “but for now it’s making me more money than I ever would from one of your ‘proper careers’!”

“…And when it all comes crashing down?” Viks’s dad asks with a snide grin.

“I’ll still have my degree,” Viks replies with an equally snide voice. “I’ll have numerous contacts in loads of different industries. I’ll have my friends. I’ll have Jon. I’LL BE FINE.”

“That so-called boyfriend of yours is just part of the problem,” Mr Brooks growls.

“I LOVE him,” Viks insists. “You wouldn’t be so upset if he was white!”

“I AM NOT A RAC-“ Mr Brooks snaps, before taking a deep breath. “I am not a racist. Him having dark skin has nothing to do with him not being good enough for you!”

“So what is it, then?” Viks asks. “He comes from a rich family, he has a well-paid job- one of those ‘proper careers’ you love so much- he’s mature, responsible, independent… All those things you seem determined to prevent me from being!”

“I have no problem with you being independent,” Mr Brooks sighs. “I have no problem with you making your own decisions, provided they’re the right decisions!”

“So it’s not enough that I do as I’m told,” Viks says coldly. “I have to THINK the way I’m told to think too?”

“In the long run… I only want what’s best for you,” Mr Brooks says in a much smaller voice than the one with which he started the conversation. “This-“ he continues, gesturing to myself, Charlotte and Hannah- “isn’t that.”

“It’s still my decision to make,” Viks says. “As is the decision of where I live.”

“Please, please don’t…” Mr Brooks whispers.

“You knew this would happen someday,” Viks says, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “Jon and I will be moving in together in the coming few weeks.”

“Are you getting married?” Viks’s dad asks his daughter, who simply shakes her head in response.

“Not yet,” Viks whispers. “You can’t stop me from moving out.”

“You’ve changed over the last year,” Mr Brooks sighs. “And not for the better. You used to be such a polite, loving girl. Now you’re headstrong, stubborn and arrogant.”

“You’re wrong,” I interject, earning myself a stern stare from the older man. “Viks has changed, but it IS for the better. When I first met her she was timid and quiet, and she had such low self-esteem it actually hurt, and now I understand why. Your daughter is a beautiful, intelligent, successful and independent young woman. Maybe you should be encouraging THOSE characteristics instead of insisting that she blindly obeys you every second of every day.” I shiver a little as I finish my ‘speech’ and Mr Brooks fixes me with what can only be described as a death glare. Fortunately, the feeling of Viks’s trembling hand in mine calms me down before the inevitable retort.

“Are you a parent?” Mr Brooks asks, and I’m forced to shake my head. “Are any of you? I didn’t think so. You don’t know what it’s like watching your own flesh and blood fly head first into disaster.”

“Moving in with someone she loves and continuing an already successful career is hardly a ‘disaster’!” Hannah snaps.

“And a year from now?” Mr Brooks argues. “When her beloved Jon’s dumped her and her career’s in ruins, what will she have?”

“ONE!” Charlotte snaps angrily. “Jon is NOT going to dump her. He loves her just as much as she loves him. And two- her career is going from strength to strength. No, you can’t predict what will happen 12 months from now, except to say this- if the worst- or anything bad, or even slightly negative- happens, Viks will always have US.”

“You’re not going to win this one, dad,” Viks says in the same timid voice she introduced herself to me with all those months ago.

“Fine,” Mr Brooks sighs. “Go and make your mistakes. It’s your life you’re throwing away, after all. Just don’t expect sympathy when you fall down hard. And do NOT take your brothers down with you!” The four of us stand up to leave, but before we get to the door, Charlotte stops, whirling round on her heel to give Mr Brooks a piece of her mind.

“I may not be a parent yet,” Charlotte says, “but I do know ONE thing about being a parent- and that’s that you must love your children unconditionally. ALL of your children, ALL of the time.”

“And what if you can’t find a way to love one child without harming another?” Mr Brooks asks.

“That’s your problem,” Charlotte says coldly. “NOT Viks’s.” Silently, we leave the house and pile back into the Angelmobile, where Viks almost immediately breaks down in floods of tears. Charlotte, Hannah and I immediately wrap the distraught girl in a tight group hug, allowing her to cry herself out on our shoulders.

“Ice cream and onesies?” Charlotte says once Viks’s tears have stopped, making the dark-haired girl giggle and nod.

“I- I um, don’t have any other clothes…” Viks complains in a very small voice.

“We’ll swing by Jon’s,” Hannah says, climbing into the driver’s seat and driving us away. “You don’t need much more than a leotard underneath a onesie anyway!” Much to the entire car’s relief, Viks giggles again as we head back into central London.

After allowing Viks to change, the four of us return to Charlotte’s house, where, after changing from our ballet togs into our onesies (and I take the opportunity to dilate), we’re soon joined by Nikki and Sarah- both wearing tiger onesies- and Mary in her pink onesie, who’s brought her daughter with her in an identical outfit. Needless to say, the hearts of everyone in the house melt when they see Kristina-Leigh in her pink romper with a tiny pink tutu wrapped around her waist.

“See, Kayleigh?” Hannah teases, earning a swift shout of ‘Kristina-Leigh’ from Mary. “We’re grown-ups and we’re all wearing rompers too!”

“Baaaahhhh,” Kristina-Leigh babbles in response, making everyone’s hearts melt even further. Even though the onesie party is for Viks’s benefit, Kristina-Leigh quickly becomes the centre of attention as she’s passed around the assembled women, especially as she starts playing with Nikki’s plaited hair!

“My dad’s been such an- well- a nasty man lately,” Viks says.

“She won’t be able to understand English for several months,” Mary giggles at Viks’s self-censorship. “But thanks anyway.”

“I always knew he was a bit intense with his parenting, but he really seems to have, you know, gone off the deep end,” Hannah muses.

“It’s got infinitely worse since I graduated,” Viks sighs. “It was his idea that I went to uni, to get a degree, to get a career, but actually achieving that seems to have turned him into Dadzilla. Mum’s no better, she just does whatever dad tells her…”

“In a way I’m kinda envious,” I confess. “Heh, you all know about my history with my dad..."

“And MY dad certainly had an interesting way of showing his protectiveness,” Charlotte interjects.

“Everyone’s dad is different, heh,” Viks laughs.

“The point is,” I continue, “I reconciled with my dad, and now our relationship’s closer than ever. Though I did kinda have to have major surgery to my genitals in order to achieve that relationship!”

“Yeah, well no one’s coming anywhere near MY genitals,” Viks quips, making the whole room laugh (and making Mary place her hands over her daughter’s ears!). “Father-daughter is a better relationship than father-son?”

“Like you said, everyone’s dad is different,” I say. “For Stu, he’s become a lot closer to his dad as a boy than when he was a girl. Kinda helps that he only has sisters, I guess.”

“Me being the only girl certainly DOESN’T help,” Viks moans, before staring happily at the sleeping Kristina-Leigh. “Maybe I should get myself one of those, see if he’s a better grandfather than a father, heh.”

“Sure, you’re 21,” Mary moans as she cuddles her daughter. “You’re too young to be thinking about kids. God, I’M too young to be thinking about kids and I’ve already got one!”

“Fair enough, MUM,” Viks teases, making the Irish woman poke her tongue out at her. “Jon does have that spare room, though…”

“Aww,” Hannah complains. “Then where will I sleep when I stay over?”

The entire room stayed in a onesie- and ice cream-fuelled state of happiness for the next few hours, before dispersing to their own respective homes. Dan arrives to collect his wife and daughter (and Krystie, who’d briefly dropped in after work), Jonathan drove Hannah and Viks home (the latter to his own flat), Sarah drove herself and Nikki home whilst I headed back with Stuart to his home (after changing into a cute skirt & top first, of course), leaving Charlotte & Keith alone in her vast home.

“Poor Viks,” Stuart says as we climb into his plush king-sized bed. “I’d like to think that if I ever became a dad, I’d actually respect my children’s choices.”

“Like your dad did for your ‘choice’?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Stuart says. “Well, kind-of. Admittedly it did take a few weeks for it to sink in with him. Maybe I should get him to have a chat with Viks’s dad.”

“I’ve also volunteered my dad for ‘the chat’ too,” I say. “Though in fairness, his discovery of my ‘choice’ came after 2 years of radio silence, 9 months of hormones and breast implants, heh.”

“Heh,” Stuart says, playfully running a hand over my body. “Speaking of breast implants…” I giggle as Stuart slowly eases his hands up my torso, before a new message notification on his phone interrupts us.

“Ignore it,” I insist, grabbing Stuart’s hand and forcing it to continue its upward climb.

“It might be important,” Stuart sighs, wriggling free of my grip and checking his phone. “Oh shit,” my boyfriend whispers with obvious shock.

“What? What is it?” I ask.

“See for yourself,” Stuart says, his face white as a sheet. My jaw drops and my complexion drains as I read the headline on Stuart’s phone.

‘CHARLOTTE THE HARLOT: Supermodel Hutchinson steps out on her long-term boyfriend for the second time in as many years.’ Underneath the headline is a photograph taken in Birmingham of Charlotte deeply kissing someone who is most definitely NOT Keith.

“Oh fuck,” I whisper. “Does- does Keith know about this?”

“Who d’you think texted me?” Stuart asks. “I- I need to ring him…”

“I should call Charlotte,” I say, grabbing my own phone. “Poor girl must be going ballistic…”

“Well- she shouldn’t have fucking well slept with that footballer then, should she?” Stuart spits.

“Oh- ugh!” I spit. “You don’t know that they did anything more than kiss!”

“Because Charlotte doesn’t have form, right?” Stuart asks, putting away his phone. “Keith’s line’s engaged, I’ll sent him a text. Typically I can’t get the day off work tomorrow…”

“Okay, first,” I say angrily. “Don’t just judge the girl like she’s some cheap whore. She’s your friend! Second, you don’t know the circumstances!”

“Jamie,” Stuart says. “I’m not blaming you for sticking up with your friend, but if it was Keith who cheated on Charlotte, you’d be first in line to tear his dick off!”

“There’s no answer from Charlotte,” I say, before shaking my head. “Let’s- let’s just get some sleep, I’m at work tomorrow too…”

“Okay,” Stuart says, giving me a hesitant kiss as we snuggle up together in bed. However, I can tell from his tossing and turning throughout the night- not to mention my own- that neither of us sleep much.

Immediately as I wake up, I grab my phone and dial Charlotte’s number again, only to get no answer. Thinking quickly, I dial Joshua, who answers after two rings.

“Jamie!” Joshua booms- though whilst he’s outwardly happy to talk to me, he’s clearly unhappy about something- and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what.

“You saw?” I ask quietly.

“I have, yes,” Joshua says sombrely. “Have you spoken to Charlotte?”

“Not yet,” I say. “She’s not answering her phone. Can- can you go round to see her, please? I’m really worried…”

“Already on my way there!” Joshua replies. “Hate to be the boss from hell, but you’ve got work today!”

“I know, I know, I’m a professional,” I sigh as I slide out of bed and grab my dilating kit. ”Tell Charlotte that I’m thinking about her, and I’ll be there when I can.”

“Of course!” Joshua booms as I hang up the call and start my first dilation session of the day.

“Mmph,” Stuart moans, slowly waking up. “Who was that? Was it Keith?”

“Joshua,” I explain, rolling my eyes as Stuart winces at the sight of the dilator inserted in my vagina. “Asked him to drop in on Charlotte to see how she is.”

“Damn, that reminds me, I’d better call Keith,” Stuart says, grabbing his phone. “And don’t begrudge me calling him, I remind you that HE’S the victim here…”

“Umm, I’ve been friends with Keith longer than you have?” I say with a condescending tone.

“Funny, I don’t recall you trying to call him last night,” Stuart snipes.

“Oh- ugh!” I spit. “You complete arsehole! If I wasn’t, you know, I’d- ugh!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Stuart sighs. “But you know how devastated Keith was the last time Charlotte did ‘her thing’. I’m really, really worried about him. Damn, no answer. He’s probably asleep. I hope he’s asleep, anyway…”

“You’re going to have to apologise a LOT harder than that,” I growl. “Get in the shower now, before I strangle you with it!”

“Yes ma’am,” Stuart says, knowing that he’s lost the argument. After Stuart’s done in the shower, I take his place, before dressing for the day. I’m doing a dancewear shoot with Krystie, so I pull on a fresh pair of pink tights, followed by a plain black leotard (that I’ll be changing throughout the day anyway) and a short purple dress with long lacy sleeves. I head down the stairs with Stuart in silence, but once we’re sat in his car, I lean over and give him a quick kiss.

“That’s for being such a good friend to Keith,” I say quietly. “Even if the way you express it to your girlfriend needs work!”

“It needs rebuilding from scratch,” Stuart laughs as we drive off. When I arrive at the studio for the shoot, Krystie and (unsurprisingly) Nikki are already present, both with sombre looks on their faces.

“Hey,” I say quietly, greeting both girls with quick hugs. “I take it you heard?”

“Yeah,” Nikki sighs, gesturing to her legs, encased in white tights. “Thought I’d dress for the occasion- I'm even wearing a leotard underneath. Seems kinda inappropriate now.”

“In your defence, you only found out when I told you this morning,” Krystie says to the upset teenager. “I don’t think ANY of us saw that coming, especially not after last year…”

“Your dressing room’s all ready,” Nikki says, ushering myself and Krystie toward the aforementioned room. For the next two hours, we try to put our friends’ woes out of our minds as we model endless quantities of leotards, tutus, pointe shoes and various other costumes. Once all the photography is completed- and I and Nikki have untied the tight buns Krystie tied (even though Nikki wasn’t doing any dancing or modelling herself)- I immediately switch my mobile phone back on and dial Charlotte’s number- and yet again, there’s no answer. Thinking quickly, I dial Viks’s number, and to my intense relief, the call is answered before the second ring.

“Jamie, hi,” Viks says. “I take it you’ve heard?”

“We’re all worried sick,” I explain. “Have you spoken to Charlotte?”

“Han and I are here now,” Viks explains. “Charlotte’s holed herself up in her room, she’s not talking to anyone.”

“I’m on my way,” I say, heading outside with Krystie & Nikki and getting in Krystie’s car.

“To Charlotte’s?” Krystie asks.

“No,” I say confidently. “To Keith’s.”

“Are- are you sure that’s a good idea?” Nikki asks.

“He needs a friend right now,” I say confidently. “And he and Charlotte need to speak to each other.”

“Whoa,” Krystie says. “NOT a good idea. The thing they need right now is SPACE. Space from each other, and THEN they can talk to each other once they’ve both had a chance to cool down a little.” I let out a long sigh- in my eagerness to try to restore the status quo, I’d got WAY ahead of myself.

“Fine,” I sigh. “But I’m going to call Stu and get him to drop in on Keith, see if he can’t persuade him to come round later.”

“Fine,” Krystie says. “But ONLY if he agrees.” I nod my agreement as I compose a hasty text message to my boyfriend. Before too long, we arrive at Charlotte’s house, where we’re greeted in the driveway by two blonde women- I instantly recognise one as Hannah, but it takes me a while to realise that the other blonde bombshell is in fact Viks.

“Hey, blondie!” I say to Viks, who simply giggles nervously.

“I figured that since I was quote-unquote ‘divorcing’ my family, I’d also divorce their hair colour,” Viks laughs, before leading myself, Krystie and Nikki into Charlotte’s vast house.

“It suits you,” I say, before my mood turns sombre. “Has- has she said anything?”

“Nothing,” Viks whispers. Cautiously, I approach Charlotte’s bedroom door before gently knocking on it.

“Charlotte?” I say softly. “Charlie, it’s Jamie. Can I come in?” When there’s no response, I lean in closer to the door and raise my voice. “Charlie, we’re all really worried about you, please can I come in?” When I’m met with yet more silence, I slowly open the door into Charlotte’s room, fearing the worst- and my fears are almost realised when I see a series of knotted blankets hanging out of her window.

“Shit,” I say. “She’s gone…”

“Where?” Viks asks with near-panic in her voice. “Where would she go?”

“Last time she split from Keith, she stayed with you,” Hannah muses. “Maybe she’s gone there?”

“She’d have called me first,” I say, before a brainwave hits me. “I know where she is… This is something I should probably do by myself.”

Less than half an hour later- after having exchanged my ballet gear for a slightly more appropriate black dress and black tights- I find myself at the entrance of a small, secluded graveyard. It doesn’t take long for me to find the distraught young woman stood over a plain marble tombstone. On the tombstone is a simple inscription:

Here lies Janice Andrea Easton
14/09/1961-28/08/2005
Beloved mother

“Charlie,” I say softly. Immediately, my BFF lowers her head, before launching herself at me, crying her eyes out into my shoulder.

“Mum,” Charlotte whispers to the grave in a quivering voice. “You remember Jamie, right?”

“It’s nice to see you again, Ms Heaton,” I say respectfully, before turning to my BFF. “You changed the surname, then?”

“I’d change MINE if ‘Charlotte Hutchinson’ wasn’t already a brand,” Charlotte sighs. “Want nothing to do with my dad ever again.”

“That’s why he’s not also here?” I ask, to which Charlotte nods. “Charlotte… You can’t hide here forever.”

“Believe me,” Charlotte whispers, “I’ve been tempted to do just that.” Now crying myself, I embrace Charlotte in a long, tight hug, letting her cry until she has no more tears left.

“Don’t ever feel like that, don’t you dare,” I whisper. “If you ever, even for a second, you call me and it doesn’t matter where I am or what I’m doing, I’ll drop it all.”

“Thank you,” Charlotte blubs as I lead her back to my car. The drive back to Charlotte’s house is conducted in total silence, but when we arrive, all the girls (including Mary, who has arrived with Kristina-Leigh) give Charlotte long, loving hugs, before retreating inside to Charlotte’s living room. An awkward silence fills the room before Krystie speaks up.

“I’ll be the one to ask it,” the tall girl says. “Why? And before you say anything, don’t deny that we’re ALL thinking it.” Every stern glare that was directed at Krystie after her question immediately gets redirected to the floor- she is, of course, right.

“Because I thought I could get away with it,” Charlotte sobs. “He was something new, something exciting… I’ve really screwed up, haven’t I?”

“No, not at all,” Mary whispers.

“Yes,” Krystie says bluntly- though she gives Charlotte a big hug when the distraught girl bursts into tears again. Before too long, we’re joined in Charlotte’s living room by Sarah, Becca and Adeola, and all of us (including Kristina-Leigh) are in our onesies, desperately trying to no avail to put a smile back on Charlotte’s face. Only little Kristina-Leigh is able to get any positive reaction out of Charlotte- when she’s able to persuade Mary to let her hold the infant.

Mary, Krystie and Charlotte are in the middle of another cuddling session with the tiny girl when my phone rings- and the caller ID shows that the person calling is my boyfriend.

“Stu, hi,” I say softly.

“Hi Jamie,” Stuart says with a tired voice. “I’ve got Keith with me… We’re on our way to Charlotte’s.” My nerves flutter as I quickly head into the kitchen. “He’s willing to talk to Charlotte, but… He does want it to be just him and her. Keith doesn’t want to have to go up against an army of girls.”

“Okay, first, they wouldn’t be against him,” I sigh. “Second, it’s hardly an ‘army’, third…” I take a deep breath before mentally putting myself in Keith’s position- if I was confronting an ex-lover I certainly wouldn’t want him to be backed up by half a dozen (or more) of his friends.

“Third…” I say quietly. “…It’s not THAT unreasonable a request. But I’m not letting Charlotte be alone, I’ll be backing her up.”

“Entirely fair,” Stuart concedes. “As long as I’m allowed to back Keith up.” I grimace- going up ‘against’ my boyfriend isn’t something I ever really wanted to do, but under the circumstances, I really don’t have any choice.

“Agreed,” I reply, before heading back to the living room and grabbing Charlotte.

“What is it?” Charlotte asks as she follows me into the kitchen.

“Keith’s on his way,” I whisper, making Charlotte cry. “Stu’s bringing him.”

“Oh my god,” Charlotte blubs. “What- what am I going to say to him?”

“The truth,” I say bluntly. “That’s all you really can say. Keith doesn’t want the girls to be present when you talk to him, he just wants it to be you and him- well, you, me, him and Stu.”

“Okay,” Charlotte says, composing herself. “We-we’ll go to my room.” After explaining the situation to Krystie, who promises to distract the room so that they don’t notice mine & Charlotte’s absence, I take Charlotte up to her room, where she changes from her bright red onesie into a tight top, a flared black miniskirt and black tights- and, of course, killer heels. I change into a similar outfit, though I obviously opt for smaller heels than Charlotte, as Stuart’s also on his way, and we both repair and enhance our make-up. Ten minutes later, we hear the front door unlock, and Charlotte immediately breaks down in a fit of panicked tears.

“Oh my god oh my god,” Charlotte wails.

“Take a deep breath,” I say, gently holding Charlotte’s head. “This is a man who’s loved you for as long as he can remember. Remind him why.” Charlotte nods and calms herself down, though I will admit that as the door handle turns and Keith and Stuart enter the bedroom, even I feel anxious. Keith looks terrible- his hair is unwashed and barely looks like it’s been combed, and he has a generous amount of stubble on his usually clean-shaven face.

“Keith, I-“ Charlotte begins, before being interrupted by the tall man.

“We’re over,” Keith says bluntly. “I told you last year, if you ever did this again-“

“Please, let me explain!” Charlotte wails.

“What is there to explain?” Keith asks. “You’ve crushed me, Charlotte. I can NEVER trust you again. I… I can never love you again.” Tears stream down Charlotte’s face as she pleads with her now ex-boyfriend.

“Please,” Charlotte blubs. “Please!”

“No,” Keith whispers, clearly close to tears himself.

“I’m pregnant!” Charlotte shouts, dropping the jaws of everyone in the room- myself included.

“…I don’t believe you,” Keith says coldly. “Come on Stuart, let’s go.” Almost in an instant, the bedroom door slams, leaving me alone with the distraught girl.

“Charlotte…” I whisper as I lead her to the edge of her bed. “Are- are you REALLY pregnant?”

“I missed my last period,” Charlotte blubs.

“Have you done a test?” I ask, making Charlotte shake her head.

“I don’t have one,” Charlotte sighs. Suddenly, I remember the pregnancy test I bought last December, during the confusion before it transpired that Mary was pregnant. I still have it in my bathroom drawer…

“Come with me,” I say quietly, stealthily leading Charlotte from her bedroom to mine. After a short amount of rummaging, I find the pregnancy test and hand it to Charlotte.

“I bought this last December,” I explain. “When we were trying to figure out who it was who was pregnant. I was going to make you take it, but then Keith said you’d already taken one, so…” Shaking nervously, Charlotte takes the test from my hand and vanishes into my en-suite. A few minutes later, Charlotte leaves the small room, her face white as a sheet.

“Positive,” Charlotte whispers. “I AM pregnant.” Immediately, I rush forward and embrace my BFF in the longest, tenderest hug I can manage. We remain in my bedroom for another twenty minutes, not talking, just holding each other, before my new text message alert breaks the silence.

“It’s from Krys,” I sigh, reading the message. “Think they’ve noticed we’re not there… Do you want to put the onesies back on?”

“No,” Charlotte whispers. “Can’t hide from my problems any more.” I hold Charlotte’s hand, leading her back down to the living room and supporting her as she makes her announcement to the onesie-clad room.

“Keith and I are finished permanently,” Charlotte says stoically, her voice hoarse from crying. Almost instantly, Charlotte is surrounded by a group hug, everyone in the room desperate to show their love and support for the distraught girl.

“That’s not all,” Charlotte whispers. “I- I’m pregnant.” I feel myself starring to tear up as the room gasps and offers yet more hugs and support for Charlotte.

“Yes, the baby’s Keith’s, I’m sure of it,” Charlotte says. “And yes, I intend to keep it. Little Kristina-Leigh needs a playmate, after all!”

“Or a boyfriend!” Hannah jokes, making the whole room laugh- including Charlotte, much to my relief.

“No, she’s GOT to be a girl,” Charlotte laughs. “Arm your girl rays, girls!” I smile widely as Charlotte sits down on her sofa, her smile finally returned as she sees that whilst she may not have Keith- whether temporarily or permanently- she’ll always have the support of her friends. THAT is a mistake she’ll never repeat.

The onesie party disperses a short while afterward, once everyone’s satisfied that Charlotte is happy- or as happy as possible given the circumstances. Krystie stays behind to ‘accompany’ Charlotte to bed, feeling bad about the way she’d earlier spoken to Charlotte- though Charlotte herself was very quick to forgive the tall girl.

As I climb into bed, I compose a quick text message to Stuart, letting him know about Charlotte’s positive pregnancy test in the hope that the news will filter back to Keith. As much as I’m missing Stuart, as much as I wish he was in bed with me right now… I’d much prefer it if Charlotte was happy.

I wake up on Wednesday morning just after 8am, and even though I have the entire day free, I eschew a lie-in in favour of an early start, showering, dilating, applying a moderate layer of make-up and dressing in a short, long-sleeved dark blue dress, shiny black tights and high-heeled ankle booties. I AM planning on meeting with Stuart today so my extra height may make him feel uncomfortable, but they’re my feet, and I’ll wear on them whatever I want. After brushing my hair and touching up my scarlet lipstick, I head downstairs, where Charlotte and Krystie are already awake and eating breakfast.

“Hey,” I say, sitting down next to the two dressing gown-clad girls.

“Hey,” Krystie says. “Hate to have to tell you this, but Charlotte’s much cuddlier in bed than you are!” I let out a quick giggle at Krystie’s joke, and much to my relief, so does Charlotte.

“It’s this one,” Charlotte says, patting her tummy. “God, I’ve got so much to do… Got to arrange scans, got to buy baby clothes, got to turn a room into a nursery…”

“She’s more than welcome to have my room,” I immediate offer.

“Hell no!” Charlotte says. YOU’RE having your room! If I’m going to have to bring up this child by myself… I want my BFF with me.”

“You… You’re definitely keeping the baby, then?” Krystie asks softly. Charlotte simply nods, blinking tears from her eyes.

“Mary’s right in that she says none of us are ready,” Charlotte says. “But I look at how much joy Kristina-Leigh has brought her… Her and Dan…”

“I’ve already told Stu about the pregnancy test,” I say cautiously. “It’ll get back to Keith soon enough.” Charlotte simply nods her head, clearly upset by any mention of the man she still adores.

“He’ll be there for the kid,” Krystie says. “I’ll make sure he is, because if he doesn’t do his part as dad, there’ll be nine angry young women lining up to tear his balls off!”

“Thank you, thank you BOTH,” Charlotte says, gripping our hands. “Guess I’ve got to choose godparents too…”

“Don’t feel obliged to choose me,” Krystie says quietly. “Mary should be higher in ‘the queue’ than me. Though would I be right in guessing that Miss Burke is top of that list?”

“You would indeed,” Charlotte giggles, making me gasp and give the girl a tight hug. “It’s only right that little Jamie has big Jamie as her godmother!” I gasp again and give Charlotte an even tighter hug.

“Oh my god, it’s such an honour!” I squeak. “But- but what if, you know, the baby’s a boy?”

“THAT’s a bridge I can cross when I get to it,” Charlotte says, her mood suddenly lowering. “Jamie… Are you seeing Stuart today?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan,” I say. “I’ll make sure Keith gets the balls-tearing message!” Charlotte giggles before smiling happily at me.

“Just let him know that no matter what he thinks about me,” Charlotte says quietly, “I want him to be involved in his daughter’s life.”

“I’m sure he won’t need threats for that,” I say with a warm smile.

Less than two hours later, I smile happily again as my boyfriend pulls up outside Charlotte’s house in his car. I slide into the passenger seat and give him a long, slow kiss.

“I’m sorry about the last couple of days,” Stuart says with a heavy sigh. “Normally I’d be proud of being a stereotypical boy, ‘bros before’- um, you know, and all that. But… There’s no need for us, you and me, to fall out, just because Keith and Charlotte have.”

“Thanks,” I say with a warm smile. “And I don’t blame you for sticking up for Keith, I don’t… The poor guy must be destroyed.”

“He is,” Stuart says quietly. “And now he’s got the added hassle of becoming a dad…”

“Be fair, it’s probably going to be more hassle for Charlotte,” I say.

“Oh, undoubtedly,” Stuart says. “It’s just- it’s not like they were trying to get pregnant, though it's something I wouldn't put past her..."

"And precisely what is THAT supposed to mean?" I ask angrily. "Are you actually suggesting that Charlotte somehow made herself pregnant to what, 'trap' Keith?"

"Anything's possible," Stuart muses, and I feel my blood boil.

"You are just a total. Fucking. Arsehole!" I spit. "The girl's just found out she's going to become a single parent, and all you can do is point a fucking finger at her?"

"No, I didn't mean it like that," Stuart says, but I'm not done.

"You know, it IS possible to support both Keith AND Charlotte at the same time?" I seethe. "I'm pretty sure Keith wouldn't mind you being there occasionally for the mother of his child?"

"Wow, okay," Stuart says, clearly taken aback by my anger. "Heh, I remember getting those feelings, didn't realise you could get them on HRT. Didn't realise you'd WANT them on HRT."

"What are-" I say, practically choking with anger. "You- did you- I- you- ARGH! Stop the car!"

"I'm sorry?" Stuart asks.

"STOP THIS FUCKING CAR!" I scream. "I don't even want to fucking look at you right now!" Clearly shocked by my outburst, Stuart pulls up at the side of the road, and I immediately grab my bag and storm out of the car, slamming the door in Stuart's face before he can say another word. I grimace out of sheer pain as Stuart drives away, barely holding back tears at our latest argument. We don't get into very many arguments, but when we do, they are truly spectacular. Obviously, Stuart is usually to blame, but I've caused more than my fair share of outbursts from him as well. I find myself almost wishing I didn't love Stuart so much... Then the arguments wouldn't hurt so much.

Now at a loose end for the rest of the day, I bring up Charlotte's number on my phone, but before I call her, I change my mind, cancelling out of her contact page and opening up Keith's instead. Stuart will also be at a loose end and will inevitably be on his way to see Keith- so I need to say everything I need to say before Stuart gets there to avoid any 'awkwardness'. Much to my surprise, Keith answers his phone after the second ring.

"Jamie, hi," Keith says in a much more upbeat voice than I was expecting.

"Hey Keith," I say softly. "I just wanted to check on how you were doing..."

"Bloody awful, thanks for asking," Keith sighs. "Stu told me that you and Charlie had done a pregnancy test... I really need to hear it from you."

"It WAS positive," I say. "I saw it with my own eyes. You ARE going to be a father."

"Assuming the kid's even mine," Keith moans. I open my mouth to give Keith a piece of my mind just as I had with Stuart, but Keith's accusation is far from unfair.

"Charlotte's done some googling," I explain. "She reckons she conceived in the first week of August, neither of you were away that week. The child IS yours."

"You'll forgive me if I ask for a DNA test after it's born," Keith moans. "Jamie, I- I'm not getting back together with Charlotte. I can't put myself through that, not a third time."

"She WON'T cheat on you a third time," I plead. "Not with a kid on the way."

"Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me," Keith says. "Fool me three times, just shoot me in the head and get it over with. No, I'm sorry, but no, if the kid's mine obviously I'll offer it all the support in the world, but Charlotte's made her bed, and by god has she ever laid in it. I- Sorry, I'm getting another call on my landline..." Keith puts his phone down for about thirty seconds, before returning.

"Sorry, that was Stu," Keith explains, making me roll my eyes over how predictable my boyfriend really is.

"Is he on his way round to you?" I ask.

"He WAS," Keith says. "I got rid of him. Jamie- can, can we talk face-to-face? You know, in private?"

"Your place or mine?" I ask with a chuckle.

"Well I'm already AT my place..." Keith says.

"I'll be there in a bit," I say, before hailing a taxi and heading off to the upset young man's house. When I arrive, I'm immediately ushered up to Keith's bedroom, where I suddenly start to feel anxious- the last time I entered this room, I nearly ended up having sex with Keith...

"Hey," Keith sighs upon seeing me, and I have to stifle a gasp upon seeing him. Gone is the dishevelled young man who confronted Charlotte last night, and in his place is the clean-shaven, handsome young man I've come to know intimately over the last three and a half years. He's even wearing his best aftershave, the same brand that ties my heart in a knot every time I smell it...

"Hi," I say, dropping my handbag and sitting down next to Keith on his bed. "Just so you know, I would be here with Stu, but he and I kinda had a falling out."

"Hopefully over something less catastrophic than me and Charlie?" Keith chuckles.

"It was ABOUT you and Charlotte," I sigh. "God, sometimes that BOY frustrates me so much, I mean, yes, I understand why he's making a deliberate attempt to be as macho, as stereotypically male as possible, but- gah!" Keith lets out a small, cute giggle at my rant.

"Sometimes he does try a little TOO hard," Keith laughs. "You, on the other hand... You don't have to try, not even slightly."

"Major surgery kinda helps there," I giggle.

"Even before," Keith says. "You know, when it came out that you were- well, you know- I was in utter shock. Not shock that you were- well, you know- but shock because I genuinely couldn't believe that it was physically possible. I know I shouldn't- well, shouldn't HAVE, anyway- but I've ALWAYS been attracted to you, and not just because of how similar you look to Charlie."

"Yes, you've said before 'you went out with the wrong girl'," I laugh. "Dunno how you'd have explained me being 'well you know' to your parents or to the wider world, though."

"My parents ADORE you," Keith says, sliding his hand closer to mine. "Much more than they ever did Charlotte. They don't care that you're 'well you know' OR that you wouldn't be able to give them grandchildren- they've always got my little brother for that. If we'd been going out I certainly wouldn't have 'done a Paul' on you." I giggle a little at Keith’s denigration of my ex-boyfriend, before pulling out my phone.

"You know he's going out with another transgendered girl, right?" I say, browsing to Simone's Facebook page. "This is her." Keith looks at the young woman and nods stoically.

"Cute enough," Keith says. "Bit of a pity for her that she's, well, you know, 'obviously well you know'."

"Yeah," I sigh, putting my phone away. "But she's no less a girl than me. Or Charlotte, Krystie, Mary, Hannah..."

"Oh, absolutely," Keith says with a cute smile. "I'd still take you over her, though." Keith slowly slides his hand on top of mine, and I feel my heart start to race as he leans in toward me and his scent fills my nostrils.

"Keith, I-" I whisper, before Keith leans in and gently kisses me on the lips, a long, tender kiss that relaxes nearly every muscle in my body. After our lips part, Keith looks at me with wide eyes, seemingly in shock at his own actions.

"Jamie," Keith whispers. "I- I-" Rational thought abandons me as I stare at the beautiful young man, and I launch myself at him, kissing him deeply, forcing my tongue down his throat as his tongue explores every nook and cranny of my mouth. Raw, animalistic lust takes over as I yank his t-shirt over his head and throw it to the floor, closely followed by his jeans, my dress and my tights.

With us both clad in our underwear, still entwined in each other's bodies, I reach into my handbag, into my dilating kit for the personal lubricant I use, whilst Keith reaches into his bedside table and produces a condom. I waste no time in reaching into his boxer shorts, where, much to my delight, he is already erect and throbbing. I gently massage his squirming penis as his expert hands unclip my bra, sending it tumbling to the floor. Keith's expert digits massage my almost painfully-erect nipples, his mouth breaking away from mine to pepper them with gentle kisses, whilst his hand reaches underneath the delicate lace of my thong, his middle finger almost immediately finding my small clitoris. I gasp in shock as Keith stimulates the organ.

"Do you want me to stop?" Keith pants breathlessly.

"No," I say firmly. "More!" Keith holds his finger up to my mouth and I give it a long suck, coating it with my saliva, whilst Keith pulls off my thong and throws it into the growing pile of clothes on his floor. Keith's moistened finger than finds its way back to my groin, caressing my clitoris and moistening the inside of my vagina. Sensing that we're both 'ready', I pull Keith's shorts off and roll the latex sheath over his penis as Keith coats the inside of my vagina with a generous portion of lubricant, before we both collapse back on his bed, our hearts beating fast and hard.

Mere seconds later, his latex-covered penis finds its way inside my vagina, and I yell in sheer ecstasy as Keith's organ pushes me to the most explosive orgasm I have ever had in my entire life. Keith himself orgasms mere seconds after I do, pulsing inside me but thrusting gently enough so as not to hurt my no-longer-virgin area. Once we're both 'spent', Keith rolls off the top of me and lays on his back, taking several deep breaths. It's only once I've taken deep breaths of my own and cleared my head, though, that the gravity of what I've done hits me fully.

"Oh god," I gasp, feeling like I've been punched in the stomach.

"You were meant to say that DURING the sex," Keith laughs, rolling over and placing his hand on my bare hip.

"No," I say, jumping off the bed.

"Did- didn't you enjoy that?" Keith asks.

"I did, that's the problem," I sob. "I- I'm just as bad as Charlotte..." Keith looks at me with shock as I pull my bra, thong and tights back on.

"Is- is this about Stuart?" Keith asks, almost as if he's also starting to realise what he's done.

"You've just had sex with your best friend's girlfriend," I spit. "I hope you're happy."

"Jamie- I- I'm sorry-" Keith babbles.

"I'M not the one you should apologise to," I say, shivering with shame as I finish pulling on my dress and my booties.

"Jamie," the still-naked man says, placing his hands on my shoulders. "If you'd told me to stop, I would have. You can't argue that we BOTH wanted this."

"We BOTH made a mistake," I whisper, shaking under Keith's touch. "We BOTH gave into lust, and it must never happen again. Please- please tell me you won't tell Stuart about this..."

"Of course, I promise," Keith says with clear disappointment in his voice.

"And I promise I won't tell Charlotte," I whisper, my mind racing as I can't decide whether to stay and talk about what happened, run out of the building screaming or take Keith into myself once again.

"Who cares about her?" Keith says, tightening his grip on my shoulders before I shake myself free from him.

"I care about her," I say. "If- if she found out about this..."

"It'd serve her right," Keith says, earning a truly evil stare from me.

"I am NOT your 'revenge fuck'," I growl.

"I never said you were," Keith says calmly. "Jamie, if- if it weren't for Stuart, I'd have asked you out the second I found out about Charlotte..."

"I'm not your damned rebound either," I spit, grabbing my handbag and opening Keith's bedroom door.

"I DO love you," Keith says quietly. As ashamed as I feel right now, I still love him... I've always loved him... And if it weren't for Stuart, I'd jump straight into his bed again, right here, right now... But I love Stuart as well, on a much deeper emotional level than I've EVER loved Keith...

"Goodbye, Keith," I whisper, shutting the door behind me. I jump in the first free taxi I find, heading immediately back to Charlotte's house. En route, I check my phone to find a text message waiting that brings tears to my eyes.

'Hey,' the message from Stuart says. 'Sorry I was such a twat, such a misogynist, I have a mouth that's just completely disconnected from my brain and shovels for hands to dig myself deeper with everything I say. I'm on my way to Charlotte's now, I may or may not be wearing a leotard this time. I love you loads, Jamie.' I sniffle and sob as I compose my reply.

'Love you too xxxx,' I reply. 'Sorry I went off the deep end. Will see you there. Love you forever xxxx.' I sniffle again, and the only thing I can smell is Keith's damned aftershave. My body, my hair, my clothes smell like they're saturated in it, and it's all I can do to not have a panic attack as the taxi pulls up outside Charlotte's. Fortunately, Stuart's car is nowhere to be found, so I enter the house and make a bee-line for my bedroom.

"Hey Jay-" Charlotte says.

"Just need to hit the shower," I explain as I run up the stairs, nearly tripping in my high-heeled footwear. "Um, I'll be down in a bit."

"Oh, okay..." Charlotte says, confused by my admittedly strange behaviour. Once in my room, I strip out of my clothes, hurling them into my laundry basket and burying them under my other dirty clothing, hoping that my own perfumed scent will mask Keith's, before I give myself a vaginal douche, checking to ensure there's no damage to my still-new genitals (I've heard horror stories of post-op women having sex before the recommend six months post-op mark- which I am, just- and suffering bleeding and tearing). Once I'm satisfied I'm 'fine' down there, I jump under the shower, letting gallon after gallon of hot water cascade over my body, but no matter what I do, it just doesn't seem enough to get Keith's scent out of my pores. As my tears mix with the water of the shower, I scream in frustration. How could I have been so stupid as to give in to Keith's advances? Why did I 'advance' back at him? I truly AM as bad as Charlotte...

After standing under the shower long enough to start to wrinkle my fingers, I turn off the water and dry myself, blow-drying my hair and wincing as even the hot air of the hairdryer smells like Keith's scent. Dressing in fresh underwear (including patterned black tights) and a cute long-sleeved playsuit, I douse myself in perfume, coating myself in the scent, but no matter how much I spray on, I can still detect Keith's aftershave underneath it. My eyes are almost stinging from the perfume when Charlotte calls me downstairs. I take a deep, nervous breath and skip down the stairs in my stocking feet.

"At last," Charlotte sighs, before wincing at my scent. "Whoa, enough perfume? Where are you going with Stu tonight, a sewage plant?"

"Hysterical," I say, heading into the living room.

"What is that scent, anyway?" Charlotte asks, making me freeze in terror. Has she smelt the aftershave...?

"Um, it's Lacoste," I say. "We did a TV ad for them last month, remember?"

"D'oh, of course," Charlotte chuckles. "Can't stand that brand myself, that's probably why I didn't recognise it."

"Heh," I chuckle as I crash on the sofa with Charlotte. We spend the rest of the afternoon browsing the internet for baby gear, before being interrupted by a familiar knock on the front door.

"Hope you brought a gas mask, Stu!" Charlotte laughs as I open the door, staring sadly into the gorgeous face of my boyfriend.

"Hey," I say quietly.

"Hey," Stuart mock-chokes, earning himself a quick whack from me, before I wrap my arms around his neck and give him a long, loving kiss.

"Normally I'd be making a sarcastic comment about wrapping your arms around me helping," Stuart says happily. "But after this morning... I really do appreciate the hug." I giggle and hold Stuart tighter as he wraps a strong arm around my waist, guiding me back to the living room where Charlotte is waiting.

"Ah, there they are," Charlotte says to her abdomen. "Kristina-Leigh's godparents, and yours too!" Both Stuart and I look at each other, our jaws agape.

"You- you're picking me as godfather?" Stuart asks.

"Of course!" Charlotte laughs, giving the young man a quick hug. "You're the perfect godfather for little Kristina-Leigh, you'll be perfect for little Jamie too!"

"Gender-neutral name, like it," Stuart says, earning yet another whack from me!

"Engage brain before mouth!" I say, making Stuart giggle with embarrassment.

"I've also chosen Joshua and Ellen," Charlotte explains, crashing back down on her sofa. "I spoke to Joshua on the phone earlier, he's understandably concerned but excited at the same time. I reckon he's already planning 'Angels: The Next Generation', heh.

"Won't he be, like, seventy by the time your child's eighteen?" Stuart asks.

"I think so," Charlotte says. "Reminds me: I need to give Ellen a call. I'll also have to break it to her that thanks to Krystie, she WON'T be the one teaching ballet to the kid..." As Charlotte leaves the room to make her phone call, Stuart gently leans into me, giving me a soft, loving cuddle.

"I was totally, completely, one hundred per cent wrong," Stuart says. "Charlotte was NOT deliberately trying to get herself pregnant, and she will make a WONDERFUL mother."

"Apology accepted," I say, snuggling into Stuart's embrace. "Now let's drop this, okay? We should be spending our time loving, not fighting and apologising." I catch myself before saying 'I believe I'm owed make-up sex'- right now, sex is the absolute LAST thing on my mind, but Stuart WILL be confused if I don't demand it...

"Did you say you may or may not be wearing a leotard?" I giggle at the sexy young man. "Because you're not fidgeting as much as the last time we had make-up sex..."

"Yeah..." Stuart says. "I opted for 'may not be wearing a leotard' in the end, to be honest the whole situation's got me knackered, especially with mad week just around the corner, feel like I need to save my imagination, heh."

"I know the feeling," I sigh. "To be honest... I'm just not in the mood for sex, I'd much rather just cuddle here on the sofa for the rest of the day."

"Then that's what we'll do," Stuart says, gently kissing the top of my head. "I really, really, truly, honestly, one hundred per cent do love you, Jamie."

"I love you too," I say happily, desperately trying to suppress my guilt. "Truly, honestly, one hundred BILLION per cent."

"One hundred TRILLION per cent from me, then," Stuart says, making me giggle happily.

We spend the rest of the night helping Charlotte with her baby planning, with Stuart even moving some gym equipment out of Charlotte's gym room and into her dance studio, which is barely used any more since we started dancing at Krystie's class. Eventually, Stuart and I collapse in bed just after 10pm, cuddling each other to sleep as I press myself as tight into his body as possible, hoping that his smell will 'rub off' on me and mask Keith's aftershave- which I can STILL smell all these hours later...

I wake up the following morning to an unusual sensation, which I quickly identify as someone long and hard poking me in the face, first in the cheek, then just under the eye, in the nose... I wake up and flinch at the sight of my long, thick orange dilator being pointed at me like a phallic dagger.

"Sorry, couldn't resist," Stuart giggles, handing me the tube and the rest of my dilating kit.

"Hysterical," I say, before letting out a genuine giggle. "As long as you don't plan on waking me like that every morning after your SRS!"

"Nah, just 4 or 5 times a week," Stuart laughs. "I've, um, I've spoken to Keith." My heart skips a beat as Stuart tells me the news I desperately DIDN'T want to hear.

"Wh- what did he tell you?" I ask anxiously.

"Um, he 'told me' that he wants to come over to talk to Charlotte," Stuart says, clearly confused by the wording of my question. "He 'told me' that he spent yesterday alone having a long think about the situation, and wants to talk it over with her."

"He- he was alone yesterday?" I ask, feigning ignorance.

"Yeah," Stu says. "After we had our little tiff I called him seeing if he wanted to do anything, but I got a politely worded 'piss off' instead. Think he'll be a bit more receptive to human company today, though."

"Good," I say, whipping back the covers and starting my first dilation of the day. "This is usually the point where you avert your eyes, remember?"

"Nah, I've decided that I'm going to be a new man," Stuart chuckles, staring intently at the sight of the dilator being 'swallowed' by my vagina. "Also, there is a kind of sexiness about it, you penetrating yourself..."

"Oh, this is SO getting thrown at you when I'm done," I laugh. "Get in the shower first, I'll call Charlotte to let her know." Stuart giggles as he disappears into my en-suite, leaving me to call my BFF and tell her to get ready- but also not to get her hopes up. After yesterday's 'encounter' with Keith I decide to dress more conservatively when meeting him, opting for opaque black tights, a long-sleeved dark blue bodysuit and a knee-length grey pencil skirt, as well as flats, minimal make-up and perfume. I link my fingers with Stuart as we step downstairs to where Charlotte is waiting. Obviously, she's dressed a lot LESS conservatively than me in translucent black tights, a short black dress that shows off a lot of cleavage and skyscraper heels that put her head high above both mine AND Stuart's.

"Oh god," Charlotte whimpers as a knock comes at the front door.

"Remember!" I say, grabbing my BFF's head supportively. "He loved you for eight years. EIGHT YEARS. That doesn't vanish overnight. Don't expect to get him back, but don't expect to lose him completely either." Charlotte nods as Stuart answers the door, revealing the man with whom I was intimate yesterday. I shiver a little- from nerves- as Keith strides up to Charlotte with a truly cold look on his face.

"Charlotte," Keith says stoically. "I'm not here to get back together with you."

"I- I understand," Charlotte stammers. "I'm so, so, sorry for-"

"I'm not interested," Keith interrupts. "I will support your child."

"OUR child," Charlotte whispers.

"You'll forgive me for asking for a DNA test after the child is born," Keith says, before his face softens. "How- how big is it?"

"Less than an inch across," Charlotte says with a sad smile. "Nothing you could feel yet."

"Can- can I- can I anyway?" Keith asks, prompting Stuart to break his grip on my hand and approach his friend.

"Mate," Stuart says softly.

"I'm okay," Keith says, approaching Charlotte and placing a hand on her flat belly. "It's- it's amazing to think..."

"Tell me about it," Charlotte giggles, placing her hand over Keith's. "Just over 7 months from now..."

"So just a little while after Kate Middleton?" Keith asks, making Charlotte laugh and nod.

"Keith..." Charlotte whispers. "I- I love you. I want us, all three of us, to be a family." Much to mine and Charlotte's dismay, Keith simply shakes his head.

"I'll be a dad," Keith says, his voice filled with emotion. "But- but I can't be with you, Charlotte. I'm sorry, I- I just can't. Come on Stu, let's go." Stuart looks over at me, almost as if asking permission to go with his friend. Still feeling guilty for yesterday, and as a result wanting to get rid of Keith- and his aftershave- as soon as possible, I nod, sending the two men away as I comfort Charlotte, taking her back to the living room where we crash together on the sofa.

"Goddd..." Charlotte says, wiping away a few tears. "It's finally starting to sink in now. Jamie- I'm sorry, I'm sorry this is causing strain between you and Stuart... The last thing I want to do is take you two down with my car crash of a relationship..." I let out a small shudder- if Charlotte knew about me and Keith, she wouldn't be nearly as apologetic...

"We'll be fine," I say. "He's getting better at grovelling, heh."

"Hehe," Charlotte giggles. "You know... Please keep this to yourself?"

"Of course," I say. "What is it?"

"I, um, I sabotaged Keith's condoms," Charlotte confesses in a very small voice. "I thought- I just thought that if we were a family, like Mary has..." I cuddle Charlotte as she bursts into a flood of tears.

"It's okay," I say, allowing the girl to cry her eyes out as I feel even guiltier that Stuart WAS right about the thing I chewed him out for yesterday.

"We'll get the girls round," I say confidently. "I'll call Mary, she can bring round Kristina-Leigh and you can have a good long chat, mommy to mommy. Hell, I'll even call MY mum, see if she can come round. I promise you Charlotte, you will NOT be alone, not during the pregnancy, not after your child is born, not ever."

"Thank you so much," Charlotte blubs, giving me a long, tight hug.

I make the necessary phone calls and within minutes the house is filled with women pledging their support for Charlotte. Mary arrives first with Kristina-Leigh, followed by Viks, freshly moved in with her boyfriend, then Hannah, my mum, even Ellen drops in for a while.

After a day filled with talk of babies, Stuart returns just after the women (minus myself and Charlotte, of course) leave. We quickly find ourselves in bed, where I once again cuddle my naked form against his, even though neither of us have sex on the mind.

"I'm sorry I went after Keith," Stuart says. "I just thought-"

"He needed a friend," I whisper. "I understand. He needs you, just like Charlotte needs me." I pause briefly- if I told Stuart that he was right about Charlotte sabotaging Keith's contraceptives, he wouldn't rub it in my face, I know he wouldn't, but I just can't bring myself to admit that I'm wrong.

"Let's just promise that we'll always be honest with each other, okay?" Stuart says, making me nearly throw up in bed.

"Okay," I say, cuddling myself closer to Stuart. Every day I love Stuart a little more, and if I lost him... I'd be just as devastated as Charlotte is right now. But I still- and always will- love Keith. He can give me what Stuart can't, and obviously I can't have both, as much as I might want both.

As I fall asleep in Stuart's arms, my mind is a mess. If Stuart had a penis, the decision would be so much easier... And lovers or not, I'd like to think that he'd always be one of my best friends... But I've been friends with Keith a lot longer... But if I got with him, I wouldn't be just hurting Stuart, but Charlotte as well... I may even end up as stepmother to her child... As much as that might clash with being godmother...

Why can't my life just be simple?

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

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

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

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

“May have done an endorsement for a new nail salon last week,” I laugh. “You like?”

“I NEED,” Mary says, examining my nails more closely.

“I DEMAND!” Viks giggles, taking my hand away from Mary. “This is exactly the colour I’ve been looking for for AGES…”

“Seriously, Viks,” Hannah teases, “you have, like, a hundred bottles of black nail polish!”

“None in THAT black I don’t!” Viks laughs. “Unless, of course, one of you maybe bought me some for tomorrow…?” The six of us all descend into fits of giggles as Viks looks expectantly at us.

“No spoilers!” Charlotte teases. “And honestly, if you guys want to go and dance, don’t mind me!”

“Nah, I’m much happier up here with my BFF!” I teases, giving the young woman- and her small bump- a quick cuddle. “And you need to show off that ‘maternity LBD’!”

“I need to rest my damned feet!” Charlotte giggles. “Honestly, go!” After exchanging a quick glance with each other, Krystie and Mary stand up, give Charlotte a quick hug and head down to the dancefloor together. Mere seconds later, Hannah and Viks follow suit, leaving me along in the VIP area with my BFF.

“Seriously, you can go too,” Charlotte says.

“Nah, I’m not leaving you alone,” I giggle, giving Charlotte another cuddle. “Besides, dancing’s no fun when you’ve got no one to dance with…”

“Oh god, Jamie…” Charlotte sighs. “I’m sure you and Stu will work things through. That IS what you want, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess…” I sigh. In truth, I’d give anything to be able to kiss and cuddle the gorgeous young man… But that’s not going to happen any time soon. Ever since my ‘mistake’ with Keith, my mind’s been a mess. I’m not great at keeping secrets, and when I accidentally yelled Keith’s name during sex with Stuart… Let’s just say the shit hit the fan like a ten ton truck. Stuart and I are on an official ‘break’, and whilst both of us say it’s temporary, I know Stuart isn’t going to take me back until he trusts me again, and that could take a very long time.

Meanwhile, Keith and I have been in regular contact, and it’s been made clear to me that he’d be more than happy to start a relationship with me- something I now need to keep secret from my BFF. Even though she accepts 100% responsibility for her relationship with Keith ending, if I were to get with Keith, it’d be like rubbing salt into an open wound, something I simply can’t do to my BFF, especially in her current condition, and especially since I've moved back in with her full-time to help her with the baby.

Charlotte doesn’t even know Keith and I had sex, which is nothing short of a minor miracle. And yet… As much as I wish I could pick up from where I left off with Stuart, my heart races whenever I think about Keith. He was the first man I ever had any form of sexual contact with, he was the first man I ever had ‘regular’ intercourse with, and he’ll always remain the first man I ever fell in love with. That’s a feeling that simply doesn’t go away, no matter my feelings for anyone else.

Both Keith and Stuart will be at Viks’s party tomorrow, just to add to the awkwardness. I’ve even bought both men Christmas presents- albeit ‘appropriate’ presents, non-intimate ones for a girl to get a non-romantic male friend, but I find myself wishing that I could buy so much more… I just don’t know who I want to buy it FOR.

Between Charlotte’s pregnancy, Mary’s baby at home and the need to get up early tomorrow to prepare for the party, we don’t stay at the club for long. After the Angelmobile (which the six of us clubbed together to buy from Keith) drops myself and Charlotte home, we prepare to enter our house when we’re interrupted by a pleading voice from behind.

“Girls!” The familiar voice of Hannah yells. “Please please please can we have a sleepover?” Charlotte and I simply look at each other and giggle- we both know how pointless it is to try to dissuade the tall girl.

“Come on,” Charlotte says, earning a cheer and a hug from Hannah. “Though this time, we’re NOT dressing up in leotards and doing the ‘Single Ladies’ dance!”

“Aww,” I giggle, “that sounds fun!”

“It’s too cold to sleep on your sofa,” Hannah complains. “Can I sleep in your spare room?”

“We don’t have a spare room,” Charlotte says. “It’s already been converted into a nursery, and the other two rooms are full of gym equipment and our computers.”

“Can I sleep in Jamie’s spare room, then?” Hannah asks.

“I don’t HAVE a spare room,” I giggle, knowing immediately despite my tipsy state where Hannah’s argument is going.

“Your spare bed then,” Hannah pleads.

“I don’t have a spare bed,” I sigh, before pre-emptively giggling at Hannah’s final argument.

“Well then,” Hannah says overdramatically, “I guess I’m going to have to sleep in YOUR bed then!” I shriek and laugh as Hannah wraps her arms around me from behind and gives me a long, tight hug, before rhythmically dancing both our bodies together.

“I’m a single lady…” Hannah sings, before shrieks of laughter from both myself and Charlotte silence her. Within twenty minutes, both Hannah and I have climbed underneath my warm sheets and are snuggled together against the cold December night.

“Don’t you, um, have to do your dildo thing?” Hannah asks.

“Nah, only need to do that once a day now I’m past six months,” I say. “Dilated before I went out.”

“Good,” Hannah laughs. “This bed tonight is ‘vaginas only’!” I grimace slightly as I’m reminded that for the past seven months, the boy I’ve been sharing my bed with ALSO possesses a vagina…

“Oh god, I’m sorry Jamie,” Hannah cringes, obviously realising the same thing. “I- I just forget sometimes…”

“Don’t worry about it,” I say, playfully snuggling with the tall girl. “You know, I actually have a hard time remembering what it was like to have a penis?”

“Seriously?” Hannah asks. “Even though it was, like, 22 years of your life?”

“22 years of my PAST,” I laugh. “It’s my present and my future I’m more interested in!”

“Hehe!” Hannah giggles, playfully snuggling with me. “And does that future include a MAN?”

“You can talk!” I tease. “How long have you been single now, ten months?”

“Almost two years, if you count dating that waste of space Martin as being single,” Hannah sighs. “I figure the longer I remain single, the more convinced my fans become that they have a shot with me, the more money I end up making! And if I need to snuggle, well, that’s what friends are for, right?”

“Right!” I say. “Though men’s bodies are also nice to snuggle up next to…”

“Well, I’m happy with your most definitely NOT a man’s body for now!” Hannah giggles. “Get some sleep, MISS Burke, we’ve got a long day tomorrow!”

“Anything you say, MISS Dexter!” I tease, turning off the light and quickly falling asleep.

After waking up the following morning, I shower, dilate (I only have to dilate once a day but I’ve been told additional dilations would be beneficial) and dress in a warm black bodysuit, black tights and a tight grey miniskirt before gently shaking Hannah awake.

“Hey,” I whisper to the slumbering girl, who stirs and moans as she opens her eyes.

“Mmph,” Hannah mumbles. “Why did you let me drink so much last night…?”

“Seriously?” I ask.

“Alright, I know, I know,” Hannah. “Couldn’t you have at least TRIED to stop me?”

“Again, seriously?” I giggle, making Hannah laugh as she heads into the shower.

“Point taken!” The tall girl yells from under the roaring water.

“Have you got your costume here?” I ask, examining my own scarlet outfit for the night.

“Yep,” Hannah says excitedly. “Can’t wait to show it off!”

“I can’t believe Viks, of all people, asked for this theme,” I muse. “Has this always been her favourite film?”

“Yep,” Hannah laughs. “Admittedly it was me who introduced her to the film when we were both fifteen…”

“That must have gone down well with Viks’s dad!” I quip, making Hannah laugh even louder. As I gently stroke the red satin of the costume, a wicked smile creeps across my face- Stuart and Keith are DEFINITELY going to be ‘interested’ by the sight of me in this outfit…

“Are Viks’s parents coming?” I ask.

“I’m not sure,” Hannah says softly, exiting my shower and making a beeline for my hairdryer. “I mean, they were asked… For obvious reasons, Viks’s brothers weren’t invited, I dunno if Viks has said that they’ll be having a family meal next week or not. They never used to, given that it’s so close to Christmas…”

“It’d be a shame,” I muse. “I know better than anyone what it’s like to be estranged from your parents…”

“Aww,” Hannah says, giving me a quick hug despite the fact she isn’t fully dry. “But you had the best sisters in the world, and so does Viks!”

“Yeah!” I cheer happily. Less than ten hours later, I find myself stood- along with all the other Angels, minus Charlotte- in front of a captivated audience wearing a red satin overbust corset, a flimsy satin thong and black stockings, along with lacy gloves, a frivolously tiny top hat perched on top of my head and thick stage make-up.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Charlotte- wearing a slinky gold gown that’s clearly been inspired by turn of the (20th) century fashion- announces to the thronging crowd. “It is the year 1900, the streets outside are cold, but it’s always warm in here! Welcome: to the Moulin Rouge!” On cue, all five of us- with Viks at the front, of course- begin gyrating seductively as the opening strains of ‘Lady Marmalade’ fill the vast room. Our dance is only two minutes long, but by the end of it, everyone in the room is in an absolute frenzy of excitement, much to our combined delight! After we take our bows, Jonathan steps onto the stage to give Viks- the birthday girl and his girlfriend- a long, happy kiss.

“You were PERFECT,” Jonathan says, lovingly holding Viks’s hands. “Even if you are keeping the blonde hair!” Viks giggles as Jonathan raises their hands to chest level, holding them close to his heart.

“But blonde hair or not,” Jonathan continues, “You are truly the most beautiful, wonderful woman in the entire world. No, more than that: you are truly the most beautiful, wonderful PERSON in the world. Ever since you came into my life last year, I’ve been the happiest man alive, and I don’t want this happiness to ever end.” The entire room gasps as Jonathan slowly sinks to one knee. “Victoria Emily Brooks, will you please marry me?”

“Oh my god!” Viks squeaks hysterically as Jonathan produces a ring box containing a sparkling diamond ring. “Oh my god, Jon! Yes! Yes I will!” The entire room erupts in thunderous applause and cheering as Jonathan carefully slips the ring onto Viks’s slim, perfectly manicured finger.

“Oh my god, Viks!” Hannah squeaks, giving a massive hug to her BFF and her new fiancé. “This is so A-MAZ-ING!”

“Glad you approve,” Viks giggles, still nearly freaking out from the excitement. “Miss Maid of Honour!” Hannah squeaks incoherently and huge Viks tightly at the news, whilst the rest of us Angels look on with huge grins on our faces. Just over five minutes later, after the room has slightly calmed down, we six Angels find ourselves on the sofas at the side of Charlotte’s vast ball room, desperately trying to deflect away all the attention Viks (and her ring!) is getting so that we can talk in private.

“Oh my god oh my god,” Viks breathes, fanning herself with her hands. “I- I can’t believe this!”

“This is so cool!” Charlotte squeaks, giving the curvy girl a tight hug. “You’re gonna get a bridal shower, a hen night…”

“And unlike me, you won’t be heavily pregnant when you do so!” Mary jokes, comparing her own engagement ring with Viks’s. “Oh god, um, Charlotte, I’m sorry, I-“

“Oh, don’t worry,” Charlotte laughs, patting her belly. “Unless you’re planning on a lightning fast engagement!”

“And unless you’re pregnant yourself!” Krystie teases.

“Nooo,” Viks says, shaking her head. “No, no, no.”

“Not yet, anyway!” Hannah giggles, giving Viks a friendly hug. “Little Kristina-Leigh and little Keith Junior need a third playmate, after all!”

“Oh?” I giggle. “I thought those two were already married off to each other…”

“Oh, trust me, they are,” Charlotte says, making both herself and Mary giggle uncontrollably. “Nikki’s sister can be maid of honour, know anyone else who’s pregnant with a potential best man?” I wince slightly as Charlotte asks me this question.

“Stuart’s sister’s expecting a child- his older sister,” I say quietly, grimacing as I create an awkward pause.

“I could always poke a hole in Mikey’s condoms,” Krystie jokes, making the group laugh again- with the obvious exception of Charlotte, who forces a smile on her face.

“No, enough pregnancy!” Charlotte jokes. “I don’t want the next party I throw to be knee-deep in nappies!”

“God, you’ll be lucky if you’re only knee-deep!” Mary teases. Sensing that the conversation is going to descend into an evening of baby talk, I make my excuses and sashay across to the bar. On the way, I can’t help but look back at the new happy couple, particularly the birthday girl- when I first met Viks, I’d never have imagined that she’d ever have agreed to dance on stage wearing ANY form of costume, let alone a bright red corset and a skimpy thong, and yet there she was, not just keeping up with but leading classically-trained dancers like myself and Krystie and having an absolute blast doing so. Then again, four years ago, I’d never imagined myself ever even WEARING a corset or a thong, let alone dancing on stage AND enjoying it! And a few short months from now, Viks will be a bride- which is more than can be said for me.

I’m hardly alone in being the ‘single Angel’ as I established last night, and I shouldn’t be envious of Viks, who deserves all the happiness in the world- especially since her falling out with her parents- but as I look at her and Jon, I can’t help but feel a pain in my heart. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t imagine my own proposal more than once, and ever since I got together with Stuart, I honestly thought we’d be the next couple to get engaged- but obviously that’s not going to happen now. However, when I imagine my proposal, it’s not always Stuart down on one knee- sometimes it’s Keith…

After I return from the bar, my drink in hand, I find that the ‘Angels’ group have dispersed- Charlotte and Mary into a corner to talk about babies, Viks and Hannah talking about weddings, with Krystie nowhere in sight- though I quickly find the tall girl arguing with Stuart in a quiet corner of the room. As I approach, my ex-boyfriend takes his cue to leave before we can exchange a word.

“What were you arguing about now?” I sigh as I sit down next to Krystie.

“Ugh,” Krystie spits. “He STILL won’t tell me why you two split up.”

“Umm, no offence, but did it ever occur to you that it might be private?” I ask.

“Yes…” Krystie says. “But even though WE’RE not going out any more, we’re still friends- at least, we’re supposed to be…”

“I cheated on him,” I say quietly, making Krystie gasp.

“You- nooo…” Krystie says, staring at me with disbelief. “You- you’re kidding, surely?”

“I wish I was,” I sigh. “It was a moment of weakness, just pure impulse…”

“Was it with anyone I know?” Krystie asks, making me seize with anxiety.

“Umm, I don’t think so,” I say. “It was just a guy I met and REALLY liked, one thing led to another…”

“Wow, and here I was thinking looking alike was the only thing you had in common with Charlotte,” Krystie says, earning a stern gaze from me. “I’m sorry, but- ugh, guess I have to apologise to Stuart now…”

“Just- just don’t give him a hard time, okay?” I ask, making Krystie nod and give me a quick, sad hug. “I should go talk to him…” Cautiously, I stand up and search for the attractive transman, who’s sat by himself on one of the couches at the side of the room.

“Hey,” I say softly, sitting down next to Stuart and fidgeting at the feel of the cold leather on my bare buttocks.

“Hi Jamie,” Stuart says coldly.

“I’ve set Krystie straight,” I whisper. “She shouldn’t have a go at you again.”

“You didn’t need to do that,” Stuart says. “I don’t mind being ‘the arsehole’, god knows I’ve got experience in that role…”

“You’re NOT an arsehole,” I laugh. “You just… I can’t really criticise, can I?” Stuart sadly shakes his head, before standing up.

“I need another drink,” Stuart mutters as he walks away, leaving me by myself. I barely have the chance to catch my thoughts when another pair of male buttocks fill the seat next to me- this time, the very cute buttocks of Keith Hartley.

“Hi Jamie,” Keith says with a warm smile on his face.

“Hi Keith,” I say, a smile involuntarily creeping onto my lips. “Enjoying the party?”

“Yeah,” Keith laughs. “Thought it’d be weird, this is my first time back here since- well, since… Jon asked me to come along to ‘back him up’ when he proposed. You’re looking at the official best man!”

“Jon chose well,” I say with a smile. “He didn’t want his uncle to be best man?”

“Nah, Joshua’s got the privilege of paying for the wedding,” Keith quips, making me giggle flirtatiously. “Jamie… I saw you talking with Stuart… Are you-“

“We’re still on a break,” I sigh. “It’s like he can’t even stand to be around me any more…”

“HIS loss,” Keith says, gently stroking my bare arm. I look up and briefly lock eyes with Charlotte, who is staring directly at me with a look of confusion on her face.

“NOT your gain,” I say, removing Keith’s hand. “I’m NOT doing that to Charlotte. And before you argue, DON’T tell me that she deserves it.”

“You can’t argue that we wouldn’t be great together,” Keith says quietly. “And I’ll keep on asking until you say yes, or until you find someone who makes you as truly happy as I know I would.”

“It’s too soon,” I say. “For both of us. All FOUR of us.”

“Does that imply,” Keith asks, “that there will come a time in the future where enough time has passed for it NOT to be too soon?” I open my mouth to reply, but my only options are either lying to Keith or agreeing with him- and neither option is one I want to take.

“I need a drink,” I say, leaving Keith alone on his sofa. I park myself on one of the bar stools and immediately smile as a tall glass is placed in front of me, but when I look up into the face of the bartender, the surprise causes my mind to snap.

“What the fuck!?!?” I yell, startling the nearby drinkers.

“Hello to you too Jamie,” the bartender says, standing up straight to reveal the tall, skinny body of Paul Gould.

“What the fuck are YOU doing here?” I hiss.

“Um, tending bar?” Paul says with a tone that implies I asked the stupidest question of all time. “You look like you need a drink, fancy a glass of absence?”

“You have real absinthe here?” I ask, holding out my glass for Paul to fill.

“No, not ‘absinthe’, ‘absence’,” Paul chuckles. “It’s just vodka and lime juice.” I take a sip of the drink and my eyes go wide as the strong alcoholic fumes penetrate my sinuses.

“I’d take it easy on it if I were you,” Paul chuckles.

“I intend to,” I laugh as I take another sip of the lethal-smelling spirit.

“You know…” Paul says, “it was about this time that we got together, three years ago, wasn’t it?”

“How’s your CURRENT girlfriend?” I ask bluntly. “Simone, wasn’t it?”

“…Is now my EX-girlfriend,” Paul sighs. “Turns out- and you’ll love this- turns out she was too ‘extreme’ for me, you know, in bed. And out of bed, on the kitchen table, suspended from the ceiling…”

“Seriously?” I laugh. “The guy who used to squeeze me into too small latex catsuits for his own sexual pleasure has finally met his match?”

“I actually still have one of those catsuits,” Paul giggles. “Obviously I don’t have any of the video footage any more…”

“Good!” I giggle, making Paul also laugh. “Sorry about you and Simone…”

“If it’s not meant to be, it’s not meant to be,” Paul laughs. “I mean, I believe you yourself briefly went out with the guy who just got engaged, right?”

“It was barely two weeks,” I say, before giggling. “You know, I just realised, even though it’s Viks’s birthday, all the man I’VE ever had sex with are right here in this room…”

“And yet you’re currently single,” Paul sighs.

“How did you know about me and Stuart?” I ask.

“Same way I got invited to this party,” Paul chuckles, pointing at the dark-skinned man sat with his new fiancée. “Since I started working for Joshua I’ve been working with Jon a lot, we’ve become friends, he asked me to come to this party. Obviously I don’t hang out with the rest of the gang that much, I’d prefer to steer clear of Stuart as I like my eyes to both be the same colour, heh.”

“Hehe,” I giggle as I continue drinking the powerful drink. “Best not let him see us talking then!”

“Bit late for that, I think,” Paul laughs, pointing out the transman sat on one of the room’s sofas next to Hannah, laughing, talking… And doing a lot of what looks like flirting.

“I’ll be honest, I did actually make a pass at Hannah a while ago,” Paul says softly. “Me and the rest of the UK, heh! So good luck to him, I say.”

“Yeah,” I say, my stomach knotting from a combination of the alcohol and seeing my ex-lover getting intimate with one of my best friends. “Good luck to him…” I quickly finish my drink and, despite the queasy feeling in my stomach, shove my glass back in Paul’s face. “Another.”

“Umm, okay, but pace yourself with this one,” Paul says, pouring another ‘absence’ into the glass that I drink almost immediately.

“Another,” I say, though the feeling in my stomach tells me immediately that it would be a VERY bad idea.

“Umm… No,” Paul says cautiously. “That’s a REALLY bad idea…”

“Barpend-tarbend-tend a bar- Drink!” I yell, slamming down my glass.

“Okay, Father Jack,” Paul says, pouring another drink into the glass, which I immediately knock back and immediately regret.

“Jamie?” Paul asks as I start to slump forward, only to be stopped by my corset. “Jamie? You’ve kinda gone the same colour as your drink…” My breathing becomes shallow and I start to sweat profusely, and immediately as I start to keel over, Paul is at my side, catching me before I slump to the floor.

“Jamie, I got you,” Paul says, holding me upright and guiding me out of the packed room and up to my bedroom, where I rush into my en-suite and barely make it to the toilet before I vomit up not only the drinks, but virtually everything I’ve eaten all weekend.

“Just let it out,” Paul says softly, gently stroking my hair as I repeatedly throw up, before bursting into tears, both from the humiliation caused by the vomiting and the thought of Stuart with Hannah.

“Like I said, let it out,” Paul says, giving me a very welcome cuddle. “Get your corset off and get into bed, I’ll tell Charlotte you’re unwell.”

“No,” I say, grabbing the back pocket of Paul’s trousers as he walks away. “St- stay with me…”

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea?” Paul asks. “You’re very, very drunk…” I interrupt Paul with a long, deep kiss that, despite initial resistance, he greedily reciprocates. The look on his face when I break away from the kiss tells me that it's something he's wanted for a very, very long time.

"I'm sorry I taste like vomit," I giggle, making Paul also laugh and give me another slow, deep kiss. Within seconds, we've left my en-suite and are back in my bedroom, Paul's hands expertly loosening the laces of my corset, which I gratefully free myself from, breathing a sigh of relief as I push Paul back onto the bed, straddling him as I did three years ago.

"Oh baby," Paul gasps as I move his hands onto my breasts, which he sensually massages, before slowly stripping me from my stocking, gloves and thong as I remove his costume piece by piece. Before too long, we're both naked and kissing deeply. I slowly massage Paul's throbbing penis to its full length and slide a condom over the end of it, before squirting a dollop of lubricant onto my first two fingers, slowly sliding them in and out of my vagina.

A blissful moment passes as I finish lubricating myself, before Paul thrusts his latex-sheathed penis past my quivering labia, filling me entirely within the first few thrusts and forcing lightning bolts of ecstasy through my clitoris and into my whole body. It doesn't take long for us to both reach powerful, shuddering orgasms, with me yelling and screaming with extreme pleasure whilst Paul breathes heavily onto my shoulder as he withdraws his spent, pulsing organ from my body.

As I lay in bed next to the man who was my boyfriend for longer than anyone else, all the feelings I ever had for the man come flooding back. I may never be able to forgive him for the way he ended our relationship, but all throughout the sixteen months beforehand, my feelings for him were genuine, as were his for me.

“Wow,” Paul pants. “That- you- wow!” I giggle as I unsteadily get back to my feet and scoop my corset off the floor, before another wave of drunken nausea washes over me.

“Still feeling icky?” Paul asks.

“Yeah,” I sigh, collapsing back down on my bed. “Could- could you apologise to Charlotte for me, please?”

“Sure thing,” Paul says with the same goofy smile that greeted me every morning for sixteen months. “I’ll talk to you soon, right Jamie?”

“This- this isn’t us getting back together,” I say quietly, making Paul pause.

“I never said it was,” Paul retorts. “But I hope we can at least be friends- with OR without benefits- who can get together once in a while and chat without fists flying at faces?”

“I’d like that,” I say with a smile as Paul turns out the light and leaves me to fall asleep in my bed.

Unsurprisingly, I wake up with a banging headache when my alarm goes off at 7:30am, but a couple of aspirin quickly deal with the pain, and after showering and dilating, I tie my long blonde hair into a tight ponytail and roll a pair of soft pink tights up my legs, followed by stretching my trusty black tank leotard up my body. After pulling on a comfortable grey sweater dress and a pair of cute flats, I grab my dance bag and head down to reception, where Charlotte and her own pink legs are ready and waiting for me.

“Seriously?” I tease as we head out to my car. “Flats instead of heels?”

“Ugh,” Charlotte moans. “It’ll be a miracle if I can even get my pointes ON, let alone get up onto pointe today. Gonna try anyway, though. Can’t believe this is my last lesson until after this one is out…” Charlotte sighs sadly as she strokes her rounded belly.

“If it makes you feel any better, you outlasted Mary by at least a month,” I say, making Charlotte giggle.

“I’ll remind her of that today!” Charlotte chuckles. “Also… I couldn’t help but notice you relighting a fire last night with Mister Gould…”

“Oh god, don’t remind me…” I sigh, prompting a confused look from Charlotte. “…It wasn’t a planned move, I was drunk, I was needy…”

“Don’t tell me he took advantage of you?” Charlotte asks with genuine concern in her voice.

“No, nothing like that,” I say, making Charlotte sigh with relief.

“I figured there had to be an element of ‘revenge’ to it, what with Stuart and Hannah…” Charlotte says, making my eyes go wide with surprise.

“What about them?” I whisper.

“They- they left the party together,” Charlotte says, clearly surprised by my not knowing. “I’m sorry, Jamie, I’m so sorry, I thought you knew, I-“

“No, you don’t need to apologise,” I say, my heart sinking at the revelation. “Stuart and I aren’t together any more, he made THAT very clear. I hope he and Hannah will be very happy.”

“Jamie… Do you mean that?” Charlotte asks softly.

“I don’t know,” I blub. Less than two minutes later, we arrive at the dance studio, and I have a quick cry into Charlotte’s shoulder before drying my eyes, fixing my make-up and heading into the building to find Hannah and Viks already waiting. Viks is understandably still excited about her engagement, but Hannah is looking VERY awkward, especially when she looks toward me…

“Hannah,” I whisper to the tall girl. “Can- can we talk in private?” The normally bubbly girl nods hastily as we head into Krystie’s small office to talk. Once the door is shut, Hannah immediately starts pleading.

“I’m so, so sorry!” Hannah blubs, giving me an awkward hug. “I don’t know what came over me, I mean, yeah, I know you’re not together any more, but you were, and for a really long time, and if I-“

“I forgive you,” I say, returning Hannah’s hug. “Because there’s nothing to forgive.”

“No, Jamie, don’t-“ Hannah begins, but I silence her by shaking my head.

“You’re an adult, Stuart’s an adult…” I sigh. “Besides, I’m hardly in a position to criticise…”

“I, um, did notice you slip away early last night…” Hannah teases. “Kinda figured I was being used as a ‘revenge fuck’, heh.”

“No, you’re not- ugh,” I moan, making the tall girl giggle. “Why does SEX have to ruin absolutely everything?”

“It’s not ruining US!” Hannah laughs. “Angels forever, no matter what any stupid BOY says or does!” I giggle again and tighten my hug on the girl.

“Angels forever!” I laugh, looking up to see Charlotte smiling warmly at the two of us. After stripping off my dress, I follow Hannah, Viks and Charlotte into the dance studio, where Krystie and Mary (who is accompanied by Dan and Kristina-Leigh) are waiting for us. We’re soon joined by Becca and Adeola, and Nikki and Sarah (who have recently ‘earned’ their pointe shoes), along with their college friends Katie, Lauren and Dannii. I giggle as we all take our places at the barre (after Krystie has tied not just my bun, but Nikki's too)- what was originally a fun activity Charlotte and I could do in private has somehow ballooned into a fully-fledged dance troupe of no fewer than thirteen girls. A couple of years ago, this would’ve disappointed me no end- but now, I consider myself privileged to have so many friends who I genuinely love- even the three new girls, who I’ve only known for a few weeks.

“Girls,” Krystie announces, beginning the lesson, “one of us is going to be off her game today. One of us is going to be unbalanced whilst she’s dancing, because of the massive weight of the new diamond engagement ring on her finger!” The whole class whoops and cheers for Viks, who- blushing with embarrassment- shows off the ring to everyone who hasn’t had a chance to see it yet.

“As such,” Krystie continues, “I FINALLY get a chance to force one of you to wear this!” Krystie- aided by Mary- drags a clothes rack into the studio containing what is technically a tutu, but looks much more like a wedding dress, complete with a transparent lace veil.

“And where the hell was that when I was getting married?” Mary asks, making her BFF giggle.

“Do you know how long this thing took to make?” Krystie laughs. “Get your vows renewed and I’ll let you wear it!”

“In London this time!” Dan quips, making the assembled throng of women laugh.

“Now come on, future Mrs Benedict!” Krystie laughs. Giggling happily, Viks exchanges her leotard and soft ballet slippers for the tutu and her pointe shoes, giddily dancing around the room whilst Krystie plays ‘Here Comes the Bride’ on her laptop. After Viks has had her fun, we begin the lesson. After warming up, Krystie, Charlotte and I give extra help with pointe work to Lauren, Sarah and Nikki respectively to help get them up to speed (or back up to speed in Lauren’s case) before Krystie calls the lesson to an end- though she does insist on making Charlotte dance one final routine for her final lesson, something my BFF’s ankles immediately regret!

“God,” Charlotte complains as she exchanges her pointe shoes for her comfortable flats and pulls her dress back on, “I never thought I’d NOT miss ballet!”

“Still though,” Sarah giggles, “you were absolutely GORGEOUS out there. The yummiest mummy of all time!”

“I’ll not take that personally!” Mary giggles, giving the eighteen year old girl a playful shove as we all change back into our street clothes. Once we’re all changed, I prepare to head to Hannah’s car with Nikki and Hannah herself in tow (we have work this afternoon) when I bump into an unexpected- and unwelcome- face.

“Hi Jamie,” Stuart says nervously as he enters the dance studio. “I’m, um, I’m here to pick up Becca and Adeola…”

“Hi Stuart,” I say, my heart wrenching at the sight of the man whom I loved harder than I’ve ever loved anyone- but who may now desire someone else. “I, um, I’ve got to go…” I blink tears out of my eyes as I collapse into the passenger seat of Hannah’s car and watch all the happy couples spilling out of the dance studio: Mary, Dan & Kristina-Leigh, the perfect, beautiful family, Krystie and her new boyfriend Mikey, Becca and Adeola with their boyfriends, even Nikki and Sarah exchange a long, loving kiss before the former climbs into the back seat of Hannah’s car.

“Hey,” Nikki says with a warm smile as she fastens her seatbelt. “Hope you don’t mind me keeping my pink legs whilst ‘on the job’, I didn’t think I would, but I really, really love ballet now that I can join in these Monday lessons…”

“It’s fine,” Hannah says. “I’m keeping my dance tights on, after all!” Nikki giggles, whilst Hannah turns to me with a serious expression on her face. “Jamie… Stuart and I-“

“I don’t need to know,” I say bluntly.

“We’re NOT becoming an item,” Hannah says forcefully. “I can’t do that to you, not so soon. I WON’T do that to you.”

“Stuart’s an awesome boyfriend,” I whisper. “And you’ve been single for a long time… You two would be great together.”

“NOT as great as you two,” Hannah says. “Now, can we please change the subject? We’re about to spend the next few hours wearing about a hundred different types of professionally applied make-up and I for one want to make Miss Thomas back there green with envy!”

“Trust me, I already am!” Nikki jokes, making all three of us giggle happily. Once we arrive at the studio, everything is set up and waiting for us (thanks to Nikki’s expert calling ahead) and the shoot goes perfectly, meaning we’re able to finish early and ‘treat’ Nikki to a full make-over using some of the free cosmetics Hannah and I got from the company- an ‘early Christmas present’ Nikki eagerly accepts!

After the ‘make-over’, whilst Hannah brings her car around, Nikki and I make use of the studio’s toilets, where I find myself confiding in the perceptive seventeen year old girl.

“So…” Nikki asks as she admires her make-over in the mirror, “what’s up with you, Han and Stu?”

“Long story,” I sigh, desperately hoping that Nikki will change the subject.

“I know you and Stu have been having your problems…” Nikki says, bringing tears to my eyes.

“Drop it, okay?” I snap, immediately cringing as Nikki steps back, a look of near-fear on her face. “Oh, Nikki, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap, I- it’s been a REALLY bad month so far…”

“It’s okay,” Nikki says in a very small, timid voice. “I shouldn’t have asked…”

“No, it’s not okay,” I say. “You’re my friend, much more than you are a colleague, I shouldn’t snap at friends like that. Me and Stu… We broke up because I cheated on him. Obviously, you can NOT tell this to anyone else.”

“I won’t, I promise,” Nikki says, clearly shocked by my confession.

“So, me and Stuart are ‘on a break’,” I continue. “Last night, he and Hannah… Whilst I and my ex-boyfriend Paul…”

“Is- is he the one…” Nikki asks VERY cautiously.

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “It… It was- it-“ I take a deep breath before continuing. “It was Keith.” Nikki gasps at the revelation, clasping both hands over her mouth.

“Was- was that before-“ Nikki stutters.

“After him and Charlotte split up,” I say, tears starting to form in my eyes. “And no, Charlotte doesn’t know, now I’ve lost Stu, I can’t be with Keith, I- I don’t know what I want!” Nikki gives me an awkward but very welcome hug as I blub, ruining my carefully-applied make-up.

“I wish I could have what you have with Sarah,” I sob. “Umm, with someone else, obviously!” Nikki giggles as I dry my eyes and inspect the ‘damage’ in the toilet mirror.

“Here, let’s get you cleaned up,” Nikki says, reaching into my canvas bag of cosmetics for wet wipes, mascara and eyeliner. “And as for me and Sarah… Let’s just say we WISH we were perfect!”

“Oh?” I ask, before shaking my head. “No, I shouldn’t pry…”

“I may…” Nikki grimaces. “May have kissed another girl in the past, whilst I was with Sarah.”

“Huh, turns out no one IS perfect after all,” I giggle.

“Apart from Sarah herself, of course!” Nikki laughs as she fixes my eyeliner. “Point is, she forgave me, and if Stuart truly, truly loves you, he’ll forgive you too.”

“It’s… Not that easy once body parts OTHER than mouths get involved,” I sigh. “Or with boys, either: Stuart’s now technically the first guy to have slept with three of the Angels, that’ll make him ‘a legend’, whereas if I slept with three guys in the space of a year, I’d get called a slut…”

“’Technically’ a guy?” Nikki asks with a pout.

“Sorry,” I grimace. “He is a guy, full stop, end of. You know, it’s really easy to forget that you’re pre-op…”

“I’ll take that as the compliment it was obviously meant to have been,” Nikki grins, before letting me see my ‘repaired’ face in the mirror. “Do I know my way around a make-up bag or what?”

“Like I said,” I giggle, “not only easy to forget that you’re pre-op, but easy to forget that you were EVER a boy!” Nikki and I both giggle happy, girlish giggles as we head out of the studio and into Hannah’s waiting car, where I give the tall, blonde girl a quick hug.

“Umm, thanks,” Hannah laughs, returning my hug. “Dunno what this is for, but thanks anyway!”

“For being such a great friend,” I say. “A great GIRL friend!”

“Girls rule!” Nikki cheers from the back seat of the car.

I arrive home a short while later and, after kicking off my flats, crash on the sofa opposite Charlotte, who is lazily fiddling with her iPad.

“Got everything ready for tomorrow’s party?” I ask.

“Hardly a ‘party’,” Charlotte chuckles. “Just a bunch of friends getting together, exchanging presents…”

“Thirteen girls and, by my reckoning, eight boyfriends AND an infant?” I chuckle. “Twenty-two people, sounds like a party to me.”

“Twenty-FIVE,” Charlotte says smugly. “Keith, Stuart and Paul Kennedy will be coming as well.”

“I trust he’ll be the only Paul who comes along?” I ask cautiously.

“Jon hasn’t said anything specifically,” Charlotte says. “Jamie… We need to talk.” My heart races as Charlotte stares at me with a stern look on her face.

“Wh- what about?” I ask.

“I know you had sex with Keith,” Charlotte says, nearly making me throw up with stress.

“I’m sorry!” I gasp, rushing over to Charlotte, grabbing her hand and getting down on my light pink knees. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I-“

“I forgive you,” Charlotte says with a sad smile. “I know it was after Keith and I broke up, it’s not like you ‘stole him away from me’, the damage had already been done.”

“You- you forgive me?” I whisper hoarsely.

“Well,” Charlotte says, “you forgave Hannah, right? And you and Stuart weren’t even broken up, you’re ‘on a break’.”

“Well, um, that’s different-“ I stammer.

“Not really,” Charlotte chuckles.

“How- how did you find out?” I ask, before interrupting Charlotte before she has a chance to answer. “I’m sorry I kept it from you, I thought that if you found out you’d be-“

“The only thing you should apologise for is asking me a question and not letting me answer it!” Charlotte giggles, making me blush embarrassedly. “Keith told me yesterday, at the party. He also told me that this is why you and Stuart split up… Jamie, is this right?” With tears forming in my eyes, I bite my lip and nod.

“Oh, Jamie…” Charlotte says, giving me a long hug. “Take it from someone who knows, that’s a mistake you can NOT afford to make again.”

“I don’t intend to,” I whisper.

“Do you still love Stuart?” Charlotte asks.

“Yes,” I reply, before shivering. “…And I also love Keith.” Charlotte pauses as I make this confession, before hugging me tighter.

“You know you can’t have both,” Charlotte sighs. “If you try… You’ll end up with neither.”

“I don’t want Keith,” I say, “not if it’ll hurt you, I love you much more than I love either-“

“I’d rather Keith go out with you than some random girl I don’t know!” Charlotte giggles, making me gasp with surprise. “I mean, he’s going to move on, obviously, I’ve accepted that… My baby’s eventually going to have a stepmother, and I’d much rather that be someone I already know and love.”

“YOU are going to raise that child,” I say. “Not me, not anyone else, not even Keith. YOU.”

“And if the worst should happen?” Charlotte asks sombrely. “Keith will HAVE to raise him then.”

“Or little Keith junior’s stepfather?” I tease.

“Oh please,” Charlotte sighs. “As if any guy would ever trust me again…”

“Tell them about this conversation,” I giggle. “THEN they’d trust you again.” Charlotte chuckles and gives me another hug that lasts so long I eventually give up on trying to let go and instead snuggle up next to Charlotte on the sofa.

“Eventually,” Charlotte says quietly, “you WILL have to choose. Keith, or Stuart, or maybe even Paul Gould, after what happened last night.”

“Or ‘none of the above’,” I say coldly.

“Don’t throw away love,” Charlotte advises. “Don’t take ‘the easy way out’. You and Paul were so great together. You and Stuart were PERFECT together. You and Keith… Could be amazing. You single…”

“I don’t NEED a man,” I argue.

“’A’ man, no,” Charlotte says. “But one of the three men I mentioned? I’d have to disagree with you there…” I sigh as I settle into Charlotte’s cuddle- she is, of course, 100% right.

As I settle down for bed and dilate one last time, I muse on Charlotte’s words. I have a hard choice ahead of me, a choice that WILL change my entire life. For as long as I’ve known Keith, I loved him. He’s kind, funny, and EXTREMELY sexy… but he’s always been out of reach. At least, until now. Even after they split up, I never in a million years thought that Charlotte would give me her ‘approval’ to start seeing Keith, but now that he’s a ‘valid option’, it just makes my choice even harder…

I’m woken up just after 8am on Tuesday morning by a text message from my mother complaining that she hasn’t seen me in days- and she is, of course, right. After replying with a promise that I’ll drop round at some point today, I swing my tired legs out of bed and jump under the shower, also taking the opportunity to eliminate any and all body hair that’s accumulated over the last two weeks. After dilating, fixing my hair and putting on my make-up, I pull on a comfortable black short-sleeved bodysuit and thick black tights, followed by a knitted knee-length dress that’s a dark purple colour and is very slender, but stretches just enough to allow me to walk normally. A wide black belt and grey knee-high boots with a chunky 3” heel complete my look.

“Morning, sexy!” Charlotte laughs as I take a seat at the kitchen table, one leg crossed over the other. “You got a corset on under that?”

“Nope,” I say smugly. “Just this belt, that’s all.”

“Ugh,” Charlotte spits. “Can’t wait to get my waist back under control…”

“Oh come on, what could be sexier than a pregnant supermodel?” I tease, earning a quick hug from my BFF. “Morning sickness any better?”

“It’s almost completely gone,” Charlotte laughs. “Can’t believe Mary went through her whole nine months without throwing up even once…”

“And looking at her now,” I giggle, “apart from slightly widened hips you’d never be able to tell that she’d ever even HAD a kid…”

“Makes you sick, and NOT in the normal way pregnancy does!” Charlotte giggles happily. “What’ve you got planned today?”

“Gonna head round my parents’,” I say softly.

“We’re going there tomorrow anyway!” Charlotte argues. “AND I need your help getting ready for the party…”

“Oh?” I ask with a smug smile. “Here I was thinking that it WASN’T a party…”

“Oh shut up,” Charlotte laughs. “Dan and Kennedy are coming round in a bit anyway to help out so I guess I don’t NEED your help… But be back by lunch, okay?”

“Okay, ma’am!” I giggle, making Charlotte give me a playful shove. After breakfast, I drive out to my parents’ home, where as always, I’m greeted with warm, loving smiles.

“Jamie!” Mum says, giving me a long, motherly hug as I enter the home. “How’s life in celebrity land?”

“Same as always,” I laugh, gratefully returning the hug. “Is dad not here?”

“He couldn’t get the day off of work,” mum sighs. “It was either today OR tomorrow, not both. I LOVE your dress… Where did you get it?”

“This?” I say, stretching the fabric covering my arms. “It was an independent boutique in Westminster, I’ll give you the address later. If I’d known I could’ve bought you one for Christmas!”

“I doubt I’d look as good in it as you do!” Mum laughs. “Jamie… What’s wrong?”

“Um, what do you mean?” I ask, confused by my mum’s sudden concern.

“I know my daughter well enough to know when something’s the matter,” Mum says softly. “Is it boy troubles, are you missing Stuart?”

“A little,” I sigh heavily.

“I always thought you were too good for that boy,” mum says.

“You think I’m too good for Prince Harry,” I giggle. “And you know how much dad loved Stuart, always saw him as the ‘son he never had’…”

“Well it doesn’t matter whether or not your dad loves him,” mum says. “It’s whether or not YOU love him that matters. Even if you’d ended up with Paul, he’d have had to have accepted it. You know how bad your father still feels about the way he reacted when he met Jamie-Lee for the first time…”

“God, I can’t believe that was three years ago,” I sigh. “So was Paul, actually… Mum, I, um, I may have, um, I- Me and Paul, we-“

“Are you getting back together with him?” Mum asks with clear concern on her face.

“I don’t think so,” I reply. “But we… We were ‘intimate’ recently.” A tear starts to form in the corner of my eye, prompting mum to give me yet another tight hug.

“I don’t know what I want,” I moan. “I want Paul, but I can’t forget the way he just threw me away last year, I want Stuart, but I don’t know whether or not he wants me, I want Keith-“

“Keith!?” Mum asks with surprise. “Charlotte’s ex-boyfriend?”

“Yeah…” I grimace, suddenly remembering that I never actually told my parents WHY Stuart and I split up. “He- he’s kinda the reason Stuart and I broke up, I- I may have, um, made a mistake, and Keith may have been involved…”

“Oh, Jamie,” mum says, giving me another hug. “Nobody’s perfect. Obviously, as your mother, I have a duty to tell you not to sleep around, but- and you do need to think about this- do you love Keith?"

“I think I do, yes,” I sigh. “But I also love Stuart, and I don’t know who I’d rather be with…”

“I don’t envy you,” mum sighs. “I’m lucky in that your dad’s the only man I ever truly loved. But you need to sort this out soon, it’s not fair on Keith or Stuart, but most importantly, it’s not fair on YOU. You’ve got yourself worked up into such a state and I can’t bear to see you like this…”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“No, don’t you be sorry!” Mum laughs. “You’ve got to live your life the way YOU want to. But most importantly, you’ve got to make sure that you’re happy.” I spend the rest of the morning on the sofa with mum, talking about my life, my loves and my impending decision. Remembering Charlotte’s ‘order’ from earlier, I start to head home, but I also remember mum’s advice- that it isn’t fair on the boys to ‘keep them hanging’. I decide to make a slight detour to my route, and within minutes I find myself knocking on Keith’s door.

“Oh, hi Jamie,” Keith’s younger brother says as he answers the door. “Here to see Keith? He’s upstairs in his room…” Smiling politely at the teenager, I slowly climb the stairs in my boots and gently knock on Keith’s door.

“Hey,” I say softly, slowly opening the door.

“Oh, hi Jamie!” Keith says, pausing his videogame. “What are you doing here?”

“I just…” I begin, desperately wracking my brain for an excuse and coming up short. “I just wanted to say hi, before Christmas…"

“We’ll see each other tonight at the present exchange,” Keith laughs, making room on his bed for me to sit next to him. “Charlotte told you that I told her, didn’t she?”

“Yeah,” I say cautiously.

“I made it clear to her that we were already broken up at the time,” Keith says. “And that you weren’t to blame-“

“We’re okay,” I say with a smile. “She actually didn’t mind! Said that if you were going to go off with anyone, she’d rather it was me than some stranger…”

“Heh,” Keith giggles. “She really has matured these last few years, ever since you started living with us. Her, sorry, ever since you started living with her.”

“What was she like when she was eighteen?” I ask.

“Well she was still living with her dad at that time,” Keith explains. “Of course, she is- well, was I guess- an only child so she got spoiled rotten, that did kinda make her a bit ‘entitled’! Just hope she raises my son to be a bit more altruistic…”

“She will,” I say with a warm smile. “You know she’ll be an AMAZING mother.”

“You’d be a better mother,” Keith says, slowly sliding one hand on top of mine, causing my heart rate to skyrocket. Before, Keith was forbidden fruit, a pleasure I had to deny myself… Now, that’s no longer the case. If I want him, I can have him without any consequence to my relationship with Charlotte… And I do want him…

“Kinda need, you know, a uterus for that,” I giggle. “And a few other parts…”

“You’ve got all the parts that matter,” Keith says with a warm smile, before grimacing as he realises his accidental innuendo. “Um, by which I don’t just mean your vagina, um, I mean in here.” Keith points at his chest.

“Thanks,” I say with a smile. “Though I’m not going to be thinking about kids, not for a long time!”

“I wasn’t either, but here I am, expectant father at the age of 23,” Keith sighs.

“…24 by the time the kid is born,” I remind the handsome man.

“Yeah, like that makes a difference,” Keith snorts. “I’m still a kid myself…”

“You’ll be a great dad,” I say, gently gripping Keith’s hand. “Hell, you’re already fussing over the kid, making sure he’s not spoilt, and he won’t be born for another four months!” Keith giggles, before turning his hand over and linking his fingers with mine and staring deep into my soul. I lean forward and kiss Keith, a long, lazy kiss that last for an eternity as I gently suckle his tongue and savour every drop of his taste as it enters my mouth. I sigh as Keith kisses the side of my neck, and I find myself pressing my hand into Keith's already-pulsing crotch, moaning happily as I feel it twitch underneath my fingers. I gently unzip his fly, ready to 'get to work', but the image of my best friend, pregnant with this man's baby, imprints itself on my brain and will not move, no matter what I do.

"No," I say, pushing myself away from Keith's embrace.

“Jamie…” Keith sighs. “You- you’re right, this is wrong…”

“Because of Charlotte?” I ask, rearranging my dress.

“Because of STUART,” Keith says. “I love you, Jamie… But so does he. I mean, yes, he told me that he’d be okay with us being together if it was what we really wanted… But I know how much it’d hurt him.”

“And I know how much it’d hurt Charlotte, despite what SHE says,” I moan. “And I love YOU, Keith, it’s just…”

“You don’t know if you love me more than Stuart,” Keith says with a heartbreakingly sad voice. “It’s okay, I get it, I do… I don’t mind waiting for you to make up your mind, just- remember that he IS the one who dumped you…”

“He didn’t ‘dump’ me,” I say, irritated by Keith’s attempts to manipulate me. “And remember precisely WHY we’re on a break…”

“That’s… not unfair,” Keith sighs, slumping back on his bed. “I’ll see you tonight at the present exchange, Jamie.”

“See you tonight, Keith,” I say quietly, leaving the house. After I get in my car and fasten my seatbelt, I lean forward onto my steering wheel and scream in frustration. I’d come to Keith’s house fully expecting to leave as his girlfriend, but it’s only confused my mind even more. For almost four years, Keith’s been all that I truly desired, and now that I’ve been told I can have him… I find myself wanting something else more. I reach into my phone to compose an email to Dr Phillips, but when I remember that she won’t be back at work until after the new year, another frustrated scream leaves my mouth.

With the afternoon drawing late, I head back to Charlotte’s house, where as promised, some of the boys are already present to help set up for the party- but fortunately, none of my ex-boyfriends are present. Within a couple of hours, Charlotte’s ‘ballroom’ has been kitted out with tables and chairs, each of which bears a fancy nameplate so everyone knows where to put the presents they’ll be bringing round. I can’t help but giggle as I pass a table containing three nameplates- a small area reserved for ‘Daniel Carter’, a slightly larger one set out for ‘Mary Carter’ and an absolutely HUGE area reserved for ‘Kristina-Leigh Carter’- an area that’s already filled with loads of brightly-wrapped gifts!

“Never mind Charlotte spoiling her son…” I giggle as I fiddle with the presents on the 5 month old’s pile before adding my own gifts to the pile.

The guests slowly arrive over the course of the evening, dropping off their presents and taking advantage of the hot food Charlotte’s had prepared. Much to my relief, Keith doesn’t stick around, instead choosing to drop off his gifts and leave as soon as possible (not even bothering to pick up his own presents). A quick glance at the gift he left on my pile causes my heart to sink- the long, slender shape of the box means it can only be jewellery. Much to my surprise, Paul Gould drops round a short while later to drop off presents, but he too leaves quickly, only stopping to say ‘hi’ to myself and Charlotte. His gift to me looks more like a CD than jewellery, much to my relief.

Stuart is one of the last to arrive, shortly after 6pm, with Becca and Riley in tow. The teenagers quickly set about dishing out their presents and mingling with the crowd whilst I take the opportunity to talk the man who is still my favourite transman.

“Hey,” I whisper. “Sorry about yesterday…”

“Honestly, you don’t have to be sorry,” Stuart whispers, gently stroking my arm. “I’M the one who should be sorry… I really don’t know what I was thinking on Sunday…”

“You were thinking ‘Hannah is extremely sexy’, maybe?” I giggle. “Perhaps ‘I can be the first man to have sex with three of the Angels and become a legend’?”

“Some ‘legend’,” Stuart snorts.

“Well, it’s not like you technically need a penis in order to be able to think with it,” I joke, making Stuart giggle happily.

“I’m taking that as a compliment,” Stuart chuckles, bringing a wide grin to my face. “But seriously… I feel like a complete arsehole. All Sunday night did was prove to me one thing: that I still love you, Jamie. I CAN forgive you. I HAVE forgiven you. And if you say it’ll never happen again… I believe you.”

“Stu…” I whisper, tears forming in my eyes. “I… I slept with Paul Gould.” Instantly, Stuart’s face falls

“When?” He asks, his voice hoarse.

“The same night you slept with Hannah,” I reply, making Stuart sigh with relief.

“That’s absolutely fair,” Stuart whispers. “Though Paul? Of all people, Paul [f**king] Gould!?” I giggle at Stuart’s mock-indignation as a smile creeps across his face and he starts giggling too.

“If you need time, that’s okay,” Stuart says. “And if you decide you’d rather be with Keith, that’s also okay. Hell, even if you want to be with Paul, that’s okay. Less okay, but still okay, heh. I’ll ALWAYS love you, Jamie… But first and foremost, you have to do what makes YOU happy. And if that’s not me… Then I’ll move on.”

“I DO love you, Stuart,” I say quietly. “But…”

“I get it,” Stuart says sadly. “’But’ you love Keith more.”

“No, that’s not it, I-“ I stammer. “I- I don’t know what I want.” I sniff, holding back tears, and acting solely on instinct, Stuart leans forward, giving me a gentle, loving hug, the same hug he gave me many times even before we lovers.

“Just as long as we’re always friends, okay?” Stuart asks, making me smile and nod- though it’s clear from the look in his eyes that he expects this to be the last time he ever holds me in his arms.

Stuart doesn’t stick around long after dropping off his presents, and the rest of the guests all leave by 9:30, leaving myself and Charlotte alone with our mountains of presents.

“God, did you see how many presents Kristina-Leigh got?” Charlotte giggles. “No wonder Dan recently bought that people carrier… Reckon Keith junior will get as spoiled next Christmas?”

“I guarantee it,” I chuckle. “Though you may have to speak with Keith before turning him into Brooklyn Beckham!”

“Heh, he should be so lucky,” Charlotte yawns.

“Get to sleep!” I admonish the pregnant woman. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, you need some sleep!”

“I’m clearing away a few plates!” Charlotte complains. “I’m hardly running a marathon!”

“Still though,” I sigh, “leave it until tomorrow morning, you’re the one who’s always complaining that you’re waddling around on ankles the size of beach balls!”

“I’m not ‘waddling’,” Charlotte sighs. “Models don’t ‘waddle’. Though… You are right. Night, Jamie.”

“Night, Charlotte,” I say. “Night, Keith junior!” Charlotte giggles as she leaves me alone in the vast room with the washing-up. Even though it wasn’t a ‘party’, twenty-five people do create a lot of mess, so it’s gone 10:30pm before I finally collapse into bed, but my head is barely down for five minutes before my phone beeps to alert me to a new text message- and much to my dismay, it’s from Paul Gould.

‘Hey Jamie,’ Paul writes. ‘Sorry we didn’t speak more at the party today, felt kinda awkward after Sunday, lol. Hope you enjoy my present- reckon it’s something you’ll particularly enjoy.’

‘Lol, I’m sure I will,’ I reply. ‘Getting an early night now, talk soon.’ Sighing, I switch my phone to silent and toss it into my laundry. Whilst I should feel flattered to have three very attractive men chasing after me, instead I feel… Stressed, and it’s this stress that sees me not getting to sleep until well after 1am, tossing and turning in bed as I compare and re-compare all three men in my head.

“Happy Christmas Eve!” Charlotte yells, startling me awake from a dreamless sleep.

“Nngh,” I complain. “What time is it…?”

“Just after 9am,” Charlotte says, whipping back my covers to reveal my cold, nightie-clad body. “Come on! Your parents are expecting us just after 10!”

“Yes, yes,” I moan. “Just give me a chance to dilate and get ready, please?” Charlotte giggles as I produce my dilator and lower my panties.

“I’ll leave you and ‘Mr Orange’ in peace,” Charlotte giggles as she all but skips out of the room. Ever since she split from Keith, Charlotte’s grown increasingly fond of my parents, treating them almost as if they were her own surrogate parents, and much to my surprise, they’ve grown fond of her in return- maybe it’s because they see her child as the grandchild they’ll never have, but whenever we see them (and we always see them together nowadays), the hugs that Charlotte gets are just as big as mine.

After dilating, I shower, fix my make-up, my jewellery and my nails (that got trashed doing the washing up yesterday) before dressing in a plain bra and thong set, thick black tights, a comfortable knee-length skirt and a tight black sweater. Once I’m ready, I grab my handbag and head downstairs to find Charlotte already sat in the passenger seat of my car, listening to the radio and fiddling with her phone.

“At last!” Charlotte playfully admonishes me. “You know, if you’d left the washing up for this morning, you wouldn’t have had to repair your nails so much?”

“You know, if you’d get a bigger dishwasher, I wouldn’t have NEEDED to do it last night?” I retort with a smirk.

“Okay, well if I get a dishwasher as one of my presents tomorrow, you’re getting unfriended!” Charlotte laughs as we drive off to my parents’ home. As expected, when my aging parents open their front door, both myself and Charlotte are greeted with big, loving hugs.

“Come on in out of the cold!” Mum urges us.

“How’ve you been, girls?” Dad asks as we sit down, warming ourselves in front of the fire.

“Tired,” Charlotte laughs. “Think this little one’s going to be a break dancer when he’s older!”

“Heh,” dad chuckles. “Have you got a buggy yet?”

“I’ve got two!” Charlotte giggles. “And I saw a few big boxes on my present pile last night so I wouldn’t be surprised if I end up with more by the end of the week!”

“I’m glad we didn’t get you one now!” Dad chuckles as mum hands us much-needed cups of tea. “Jamie, you been at work this week?”

“Hmm?” I grunt, having briefly zoned out. “Oh, um, yeah, I did a make-up shoot on Monday, that should be out in a couple of months.”

“I’ll make room in the scrapbook,” dad laughs, before his facial expression becomes a lot more sombre. “Jamie… your mother told me about the #boy trouble’ you’ve been having lately.”

“I really, really don’t want to talk about it,” I moan.

“It’ll help you if you do,” mum says softly.

“And you know we won’t judge,” Charlotte says, giving me a quick hug. “Though I did see you cuddling Mister Milton last night…”

“That was just a friendly hug,” I sigh. “God, this’d be a lot easier if you’d just forbid me from having any contact with Keith!”

“No, I could never do that,” Charlotte says. “I mean yes, I’d much prefer to have him all to myself, but if I can’t have him… I want him to be happy regardless.”

“Stuart said the same thing about me last night,” I moan.

“That sounds like you’re being pointed toward a decision,” dad- who has ALWAYS been fond of Keith- points out.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “But I want it to be MY decision, I don’t want to be steered toward something only to end up regretting it months down the line.”

“In the end, you can only follow your heart,” mum says.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “But what do you do when you don’t know where your heart is pointing?” Charlotte hugs me tighter as I sigh. “Sorry, everyone, I don’t want to bring down the mood, not at Christmas…”

“Don’t be silly,” dad says. “You’re our daughter, that means that whatever you need, we give it to you, doesn’t matter if it’s Christmas or not!” I let out a sad giggle as dad goes on to talk about his work and drops hints about what Charlotte and I can expect in our stockings tomorrow. Charlotte and I stay at my parents’ house until early evening when, with night drawing in, we head back to our big home, our bellies full and our minds excited about tomorrow- but I’m still uneasy.

“Are you any closer to your decision?” Charlotte asks softly as I kick off my heels and crash heavily onto the sofa.

“No,” I moan. “If anything it’s harder than ever… I mean, I’m even thinking about PAUL…”

“I would say ‘no way’, but I am the one who set you two up,” Charlotte giggles. “I was going to save this until tomorrow, because, you know, it Christmas, but I figured I should give it to you now…” Much to my surprise, Charlotte pulls out a brightly-wrapped package and hands it to me. “Go on, open it!” I smile a weary smile as I tear off the wrapping paper, only to gasp in shock when I see what’s inside.

“It’s beautiful,” I say, holding up the silver necklace. “How much did this cost?”

“That’s not important,” Charlotte says smugly. “Do you like the jewel?” I stare at the small blue crystal and smile happily.

“It’s beautiful,” I repeat. “Thank you so much!”

“It’s your parents,” Charlotte says, her smug grin growing wider as my face frowns in confusion.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“The jewel,” Charlotte explains, taking off her bracelet- the same bracelet I’d given her last Christmas. “Last year, you gave me my best friends, this year, I’m giving you your family.”

“Oh my god,” I say, happy tears forming in my eyes. “Thank you so much! My present seems kinda crap by comparison…”

“Merry Christmas, Jamie,” Charlotte says, giving me a tight hug. “Though I’ll be the judge of whether or not your present is crap. Now, please, if you don’t mind!” I giggle happy as Charlotte ‘orders’ me around- though I don’t move a muscle until Charlotte fastens the necklace around my neck. Still giggling excitedly, I hand Charlotte her present, smiling as Charlotte coos at the shiny red and gold wrapping paper- which she immediately rips off!

“Jamie,” Charlotte gasps. “I- I-“

“Merry Christmas, Charlotte,” I whisper as Charlotte turns the gift over, tears forming in her eyes.

“Is it- is it Keith?” Charlotte whispers, cradling the tiny sculpture.

“Of course it is!” I say happily. “It’s from your 4 month scan. I had it sent off to a company that specialises in 3D printing, they turned it into a model. I guess it’s only fitting, you gave me my parents, I give you your son.” Charlotte gently puts the tiny model down and gives me a long, tight hug.

"You're so amazing!" Charlotte wails. "You're the best friend ever!"

"Whoa," I say, returning my BFF's hug. "Getting a bit hormonal here Charlotte!"

"Sorry, sorry," Charlotte says, giggling. "But honestly, how many mothers get to hold their son in their arms four months before he's born?" Charlotte gently cradles the tiny sculpture in her hand, inspecting every last tiny detail. "Here I was thinking you couldn't possibly top last year's gift... I chose the right godmother!" I giggle happily as Charlotte gently caresses the tiny model, treating it as though it were more precious than gold.

"Keith Junior chose the right mother," I whisper, earning another hug from Charlotte.

We spend the rest of the night in the living room, supposedly watching TV but in reality, we're much more interested in the highly intimate gifts we've given each other. As I head to bed, I check my phone (which had been on silent all afternoon) for text messages, only to sigh when I found several unread messages from Keith, Stuart and Paul, each one wishing me a Merry Christmas, hoping that I'll enjoy their present, that I'm the girl they love the most...

After changing into my nightie, I decide not to bother replying to any of the messages, instead throwing my phone into its semi-permanent home in my laundry basket. Despite what Charlotte said, I could quite easily live without any of the three men clearly vying for my attention. I lived for years before them, I can live for years after them...

I'm woken up just after 7am on Christmas morning, as always, by Charlotte excitedly bouncing up and down on my bed (despite her bump). After a quick breakfast, we dive into our present piles. We've both received the usual stuff, clothes, cosmetics, vouchers, DVDs, underwear, stuff for my car- but we both agree that none of the presents are as good as the ones we gave each other. I only have three presents left to open when I hesitate.

"What's up, Jay?" Charlotte asks, seeing me dithering over the three small packages. "Who are they from?"

"Keith, Paul and Stuart," I sigh. "I'm actually dreading opening them."

"You can't put it off forever..." Charlotte advises.

"Can it at least wait until after church?" I ask, making Charlotte giggle.

"You know I haven't gone there in months," Charlotte says with a sad smile. "Never thought you'd be the one trying to persuade ME that we need to go to church..." I let out a sad laugh, before laying all three presents out in front of me.

"What- what order should I open them in?" I ask, groaning in frustration.

"Alphabetical," Charlotte says firmly. "Keith, then Paul, then Stuart."

"Alphabetical by SURNAME," I say. "So Paul Gould, then Keith Hartley, then Stuart Milton."

"Alphabetical by surname it is," Charlotte says, handing me Paul's present. After ripping off the wrapping paper, I find the expected CD inside, only to discover that it's not a CD at all, but a rewritable DVD. After booting up my laptop, I slide the disc into it and sigh happily when I see its contents.

On the disc is every photoshoot Paul ever did that involved me- but that DIDN'T involve sex or any kinky stuff. All the science-fiction and fantasy inspired shoots are there, as are some holiday photos and videos we took. Every good memory I had of my sixteen month relationship with Paul is on one disc for me to treasure forever.

"That's so thoughtful," Charlotte whispers as I slide the disc out of my laptop and carefully put it back in its case. Charlotte then hands me Keith's gift, which I open, to find a stunning gold watch.

"Oh my god," I whisper as I gently finger the delicate jewellery. "It's beautiful..."

"Keith's father once got me a watch like that for my birthday," Charlotte says sadly. "Of course, his parents are far richer than me..." Ignoring Charlotte, I slide the watch on my wrist and gently fasten the clasp. It fits like a glove, of course- and compliments my manicured hand perfectly. Shaking my head frustratedly, I remove the watch and carefully place it on the coffee table next to Paul's DVD, before opening Stuart's present. Inside, I find a silver chain with a plain, square pendant hanging from it.

"It's a bit impersonal, especially for him," Charlotte comments, before I suss out that the pendant is in fact a memory stick, which I plug into my laptop. Like Paul's gift, Stuart's memory stick contains gigabyte after gigabyte of photos and videos of the two of us together, but there's one additional video file that looks unfamiliar. After clicking to open it, I gasp when I see Stuart sat in his bedroom, holding his guitar and looking straight into the camera.

"I wrote this song for you in October," Stuart says with a sad smile. "I'd wanted to sing it to you in person on Christmas Day but- well- never mind. Jamie, if you're watching this, and I really, really hope you are... Merry Christmas, and I love you." Tears start to form in my eyes as Stuart tunes his guitar.

"I was originally going to sing this to the tune of 'Kayleigh' by Marillion," Stuart explains, "but this is supposed to be a genuine gift, not one of those feeble prank ones." I giggle as Stuart plays the opening bars of his song.

'When I met you... I didn't know what to think,

When I left you... My heart began to sink,

When I hold you... I thank god that you're mine, and

When I kiss you... My heart begins to shine...

You're my hopes,

You're my dreams,

I look at you and everything in life is fine,

You're my love,

You're my soul,

I look at you and my heart begins to shine.

When I hurt you... I also die inside,

When I upset you... I want to go and hide,

When you smile... Everything feels fine, and

When I kiss you... My heart begins to shine...

You're my hopes,

You're my dreams,

I look at you and everything in life is fine,

You're my love,

You're my soul,

I look at you and my heart begins to shine...

You're my everything,

You're my all,

I look at you and everything in life is fine,

You're my love,

You're my soul,

I look at you and my heart begins to shine.'

I shut down the media player app on my laptop, and immediately I burst into floods of tears. Stuart's song was so beautiful... But then again, so was Keith's watch... and so are Paul's memories...

"There there," Charlotte whispers, giving me a loving hug. "Come on, come on, let it out..."

"Why did they all have to be so perfect?" I whimper as I sob into Charlotte's shoulder.

"Because you deserve nothing less," Charlotte says with a warm, friendly smile. "Now come on, your parents will be here in half an hour, you need to get dressed, you need to get your make-up on... So do I, heh!"

"Right," I say, nodding and drying my eyes. I head upstairs to shower and dilate, but all throughout, I can't get Stuart's song, Keith's watch or Paul's videos out of my head. I dress in a sexy (but still comfortable) new bra and thong set and apply some of my new make-up that I received from Adeola and Becca, followed by black tights and a sleek, short red dress with tight long sleeves that was my gift from Sarah and Lauren. After pulling on the new black 5" heeled stilettos Mary gave me today, followed by two new perfumes from Krystie and Hannah that complement each other beautifully (much like the women who game them to me), a thin silver bracelet from Viks and new gold earrings from Nikki, I fasten Charlotte's beautiful necklace around my neck and head downstairs, where Charlotte is already hard at work cooking dinner.

"WOW!" Charlotte says upon seeing me coolly stride into the kitchen. "Someone as drop-dead gorgeous as you is far too good for Keith, Paul and Stuart COMBINED!" I giggle as I pull on an apron and help Charlotte chop vegetables. Less than an hour later, my parents arrive with big hugs for both of us and arms filled with yet more presents that Charlotte and I eagerly open whilst mum (temporarily) takes over in the kitchen. Not a word is said of my 'dilemma' whilst we eat our Christmas dinner and settle down for an evening of Christmas TV.

"I had a message from Viks whilst we were eating," Charlotte says with a happy smile. "She and Jon are at her parents' house, apparently her dad's giddy with excitement at getting the chance to walk her down the aisle!" I giggle at Charlotte's obvious glee and Viks's 'happy ending', quickly composing a congratulatory text message before turning my attention back to the television. Within minutes, however, my mother drags me straight back to reality when she notices the gifts I'd carelessly left on the coffee table.

"Ooh, that's a lovely watch," mum says. "Which one of you girls got this?"

"Me," I sigh with a sad face.

"Why the sad face?" Dad jokes. "If I got a watch like that I'd be over the moon. Well, obviously not that exact style, but-"

"...It was from Keith," I say, silencing my father and wincing as a sad expression creeps over Charlotte's face- even though they've been broken up for months, I can tell that Charlotte still isn't over Keith, nor is she likely to be any time soon...

"Oh," mum says. "Are- are you going out with-"

"No," I sigh, tears forming in my eyes. "I still haven't decided... Paul and Stuart also got me amazing presents, really intimate, personal ones... What the hell do I do?"

"You do whatever you want," dad says, giving me a quick hug, continuing speaking before I have a chance to retort. "And before you say 'I don't know what I want', trust your old man when he says: you will. At some point, sometime soon, you will know. Until then, worrying about it won't help you."

"I know," I sigh, returning dad's hug. "This has been one hell of a 'Christmas Special' even by my standards, heh..." Charlotte and my parents both laugh as we turn our attention back to TV, and the Strictly Come Dancing Christmas special.

"They've got former winners and finalists back this year," mum says. "Charlotte, did they ask you to take part?"

"Wouldn't have been able to even if I wanted," Charlotte giggles, patting her widening belly. "They only record them a few weeks in advance..."

"And they've got Bruce Forsyth back too to host," mum continues. "Was he really as nice as he comes across on screen?"

"He's lovely!" Charlotte gushes, clearly revelling in the chance to talk about her celebrity career as mum and dad hang on her every word. I focus on Charlotte's tales too- it's a welcome distraction from my own worries.

My parents leave just after 10pm, despite mine & Charlotte's repeated attempts to persuade them to stay overnight. As they're getting their coats on, mum calls me to one side to dispense probably the most important piece of advice she's ever given me- or possible, the most important piece of advice any mother has ever given her daughter.

"Jamie," mum sighs. "I know this is an important decision but you can't let it take over your life the way it has been doing. All three boys are nice- in their own way- but you're still only 23, you've got your whole life ahead of you..."

"You weren't much older than me when you married dad," I sigh. "You were born in 1962, married in 1988..."

"Because I knew your dad was the right man for me," mum says. "Want to know how I knew?"

"More than anything," I moan.

"I asked myself one question," mum says. "Who do I want to be the LAST man I ever kiss? The answer, for me, was easy- it was your dad."

"Are you saying that I should ask myself the same question?" I ask.

"It worked for me," mum says, giving me a quick hug. "And you never know, like mother, like daughter... Enjoy the rest of your Christmas, Jamie. If you don't come to a decision, that's fine. Any time you want to call for a natter or just a moan, you let me know. And make sure that best friend of yours knows the offer applies to her too!"

"I will," I say, bidding farewell to both my parents with long, loving hugs. After helping Charlotte with the washing up- and trashing my nails AGAIN- I head to bed, where I muse on mum's question. All three boys have their good points, and their bad points, but who would I want to lay with when I'm older, when I'm old... Who do I want to be the last man I ever kiss?

Paul is AMAZING in bed, he's highly creative both sexually and non-sexually in a relationship, he's witty, I've known him 'intimately' longer than either of the other two, he was the man to whom I lost my virginity... And yet the way he treated me... Even if he has changed, that bad taste in the mouth will NEVER leave, especially if I get back together with him...

Stuart is one of the best friends I've ever had, and when we were dating, we shared as many laughs as we did orgasms. We understand each other like no one else can, and I'll ALWAYS love him as a friend... but if I get together with him, there'll always be that lingering doubt at the back of his mind about me, triggering his natural paranoia, and that'll affect me... I argued with Stuart over the course of our seven month relationship MUCH more than I did with Paul over the course of sixteen months...

And then there's Keith, the first man I ever loved. He'll always be the first man I ever loved, the man to whom I lost my 'vaginal virginity'- a love powerful enough it temporarily overrode my love for Stuart, but at the same time, if I got together with Keith, it'd hurt so many people- Stuart, Charlotte... Charlotte's unborn son... And his gift, whilst beautiful, just hammers home the fact that I'm not nearly as intimately acquainted with Keith as I am with the other boys...

I lay awake until well after 1 o'clock wracking my brain, trying to find an answer to my mum's question. It's only as I start to fall asleep and begin to dream that I have a revelation.

In my dream, I'm in an unfamiliar bed, and yet I know, in the way you only know in a dream, that it's MY bed, it's MY home, and the man laying next to me is the one, single man I truly love with my whole heart, the man who 'possesses my soul'.

"I love you," the man whispers to me.

"I love you too," I whisper back, kissing the man, and knowing deep down that kiss would be my last...

I wake up with a start and check the time on my phone- 1:46 AM. I make a mental note of the time. Forty-six minutes past one on the morning of the 26th of December 2014. The exact time I knew, once and for all, precisely who I wanted to be the last man I will ever kiss.

I barely sleep for the rest of the night, and I'm that excited by my decision that I get up the following morning before 8am, showering, dilating and applying my make-up as fast as I can so that I can get out to see the man who I now know I want to be with. I dress very simply- just a grey sweater dress, black tights and knee-high boots- but I wear my new necklace, ensuring the jewel containing my parents' DNA takes pride of place. I put the three presents I received from the boys in a bag- it seems only fair to return the two presents to the boys I won't be seeing- and head out to my car, barely taking the time to say goodbye to Charlotte along the way.

My heart pounds as I pull up outside the house of the parents of the man I'm desperate to see, and as I ring the doorbell, I have to wring my hands to stop myself from shaking, wincing slightly that in my rush to leave the house, I didn't even take the time to repair my nail polish. I gasp as the door opens to reveal the face I saw in my dreams.

"Jamie?" The young man asks with confusion. "What are you doing here this early?"

"I'm here," I tell the expectant young man, "because I love you..."

TO BE CONTINUED

“Jamie?” The young man asks with confusion as he answers his front door. “What are you doing here this early?”

“I’m here,” I tell the expectant young man, “Because I love you… Stuart.” Stuart closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“You love me… But?” Stuart asks, making me smile and roll my eyes at the handsome transman’s paranoia.

“No buts,” I say. “Plenty of ANDs, though. I love you AND I want to be with you. I love you AND I’m IN love with you. I love you… AND I love you more than anyone else.”

“’Anyone’ else?” Stuart asks, making me giggle and roll my eyes again.

“EVERYONE else,” I say, leaning in and kissing Stuart- the last man I’ll ever kiss. My whole body feels as though it’s about to melt as Stuart places his hands on my slim waist, gently pulling me closer into him.

“I love you too, Jamie,” Stuart whispers, clearly fighting back tears.

“Can- can you trust me again?” I ask. “I promise, I’ll never even LOOK at Keith, or any other man, I-“

“Yes, I can trust you,” Stuart laughs. “I’m sorry I’m so paranoid all the time. I LOVE you. If you say you love me more than everyone else… I believe you.”

“I still don’t like being interrupted,” I say, making Stuart giggle with embarrassment.

“Sorry, sorry,” Stuart laughs.

“I was going to say, before I was so rudely interrupted,” I continue, “I want you to be the LAST man I ever kiss, or make love with.”

“Jamie...” Stuart asks. “Are you proposing? Because we’re kinda only just getting back on our feet…”

“Nothing like that,” I say. “Not YET, anyway!” Stuart laughs and gives me a big hug.

“It’s kinda cold,” Stuart laughs. “Come on in…” I smile a wide, contented grin as I follow Stuart into his house and up to his bedroom, where we sit together on his bed, intimately cuddling each other.

“Your nail polish is kinda chipped,” Stuart jokes, making me laugh as I inspect the ‘damage’. “Nine years ago I’d have offered to help you repair them…”

“Nine years ago I wouldn’t have been here,” I sigh. “Nine years ago I was a fourteen year old boy who’d have run a mile if you put nail polish anywhere near him.”

“Denial,” Stuart sighs. “Yeah, I remember that stage…” I take a deep breath, remembering that Stuart doesn’t know the ‘real’ circumstances that started my change- nor will he ever do so.

“Besides,” I giggle, “I’m glad you don’t have any nail polish to hand. I only like REAL men!” Stuart laughs happily as he gives me another long, happy kiss.

“What’s in the bag?” Stuart asks, spotting my carrier bag. I blush slightly as I open it, showing him the watch, necklace and DVD.

“Ah, yes,” Stuart says. “Let me guess- the other gifts were from Keith?”

“The watch was from Keith, the DVD was from Paul,” I explain. “And no, the DVD isn’t a ‘sex tape’.”

“I never said it was,” Stuart says with mock-innocence as he scoops ‘his’ necklace out of the bag and gently fastens it around my neck. “Did you like the song?”

“I LOVED the song,” I say, playing with the memory stick pendant. “Kinda wish you could play it for me in person…” Stuart smiles, quickly hopping off his bed and picking up his guitar. Within seconds, he’s tuned up and has launched into a quiet, intimate rendition of his song, reducing me to near-tears by the end of it.

“Right now,” Stuart says, giving me a soft hug, “my heart is shining brighter than a billion suns.”

“I love you so much,” I whisper.

“I love you forever,” Stuart whispers, giving me a long, lingering kiss that seems to last forever, and yet I don’t want to ever end.

We spend the next couple of hours in Stuart’s bedroom, kissing, laughing, talking and singing (Stuart even tries to give me a basic guitar lesson). We’d have stayed there all day, but we’re interrupted just before lunchtime by a knock on Stuart’s bedroom door.

“Stu?” Becca’s familiar voice calls. “Stu, remember we’re going out for lunch today, dad’s going to throw a fit if you’re not ready…” Becca opens the door, only for her eyes to go wide as she sees me sat next to her brother on his bed.

“Jamie!?” Becca asks confusedly. “Um, what are you doing here?”

“What,” Stuart laughs, “I’m not allowed to have my girlfriend in my bedroom anymore?” Becca’s eyes go wide as she realises precisely what Stuart said.

“Your gir- Jamie?” Becca stammers.

“Hi Becca!” I say to the grinning teenager, before standing up and giving the girl a long hug.

“Thank GOD!” Becca laughs, returning my hug. “Though you still need to get ready for lunch. You too, ‘sis’!” I giggle as Becca teases me- I know how close she is to Stuart, so her approval of our relationship restarting means a lot.

“Umm, do you have any nail polish?” I ask, showing the giggling girl my ugly nails. Becca simply giggles harder and nods, grabbing my hand and dragging me back to her room, where her own boyfriend is laid back on her bed.

“Riley, out,” she orders the nineteen year old boy, who meekly complies. “Sorry about the mess…”

“No, I like it,” I say, looking around. “Your room’s cool!” I’m not just being nice to Becca- I do like her room, even if there are a LOT of photographs of herself on the wall.

“Aww, thanks!” Becca giggles, reaching into her dresser and sorting through dozens of bottles of nail polish. “High praise coming from an Angel!”

“Oh please, YOU’RE an Angel in all but name anyway,” I say as I sit down opposite Becca, holding out my fingers and letting her get to work.

“Hehe,” Becca giggles. “Well, maybe when I get this damned band together that Joshua’s been promising me and Addie for months… Kinda galling that Nikki and Sarah got their ‘Angel group’ before I did, heh.”

“They’re not really an ‘Angel Group’,” I say, “not yet anyway, and besides, you’ve been signed to Joshua much longer than they have!”

“Yeah, I guess,” Becca giggles. “Jamie… Why did you pick Stuart? I mean, I know, he’s my brother, I should root for him, and I could do WITHOUT hearing the more ‘gory details’ of your love life-“

“No one understands me like him,” I say with a happy, contented voice. “And no one understands him like me…”

“Now hang on, I HAVE known him for twenty years…” Becca mock-complains, making us both giggle.

“You know what I mean,” I chuckle as Becca begins drying my fingernails. “What we share… It’s intimate- I’m not going to use the word ‘unique’ but it’s special, something I can’t find anywhere else. And despite his constant claims that he IS a macho idiot… He’s so sensitive. He’s not like any other man I know- he’s so much BETTER.”

“If you say so,” Becca says. “To me, he’ll always be a big idiot, albeit a big idiot with a big heart.”

“And I for one wouldn’t have him any other way,” I giggle, examining my perfectly-repaired nails.

“He was really broken up when he found out about you and Keith,” Becca says coldly, trying (but failing) not to sound too accusatory. “I’d never seen him so devastated, even when you DON’T include the bust lip Keith gave him.”

“I’ll never hurt him again, I promise,” I say as we head back to Stuart’s bedroom, where the sexy man has changed into a smart shirt and tie. I greet my boyfriend with a long kiss and link fingers with him as we walk downstairs, but Becca’s words linger in the back of my mind- I DID hurt Stuart, and that’s something I can’t undo… Nor are the feelings I still have for the man I cheated on Stuart with. As much as I wish I didn’t, I do still love Keith… I just now know for certain that I love Stuart most of all.

I try to put all thoughts of Keith out of mind as I approach Stuart’s parents, who are clearly surprised to see me walking hand-in-hand with their son.

“Mum, dad, I believe you know Jamie, my girlfriend?” Stuart says smugly, making me blush with embarrassment.

“If you’re sure,” Stuart’s dad says to his son whilst giving me a cautious handshake. “Guess I’ll have to call the restaurant and ask to change our reservation to a table for eight…”

“Oh, please don’t go to any bother on my behalf,” I say, feeling slightly embarrassed (not to mention overly casually dressed) by the attention I’m drawing from the rest of the room.

“Nonsense,” Mr Milton says. “You’re my son’s girlfriend, that means you’re coming with us to lunch!”

“It’s kinda-of a Milton family tradition, every Boxing Day we always go to the same restaurant for lunch,” Stuart explains.

“And as you may have gathered from the last time you went out with Stuart,” Emma- Stuart’s older sister- says smugly, “this family is nothing if not fond of tradition!”

“Except we’ll have to replace our ‘traditional’ bottle of wine for something non-alcoholic this year!” Stuart’s mother teases Emma, patting her belly.

“Oh- come on,” Emma pleads, “one glass of wine isn’t going to kill the baby…”

“You are not doing a single thing that might risk my first grandchild!” Mrs Milton says firmly in a voice that not only makes Emma wince, but makes Stuart grip my hand harder too.

“Here I was thinking your dad was the stern one,” I whisper to Stuart, making the sexy transman laugh before a glare from his mother shuts him up. I breathe a small sigh of relief at no longer being the centre of attention- the last thing I need over lunch is accusatory stares being fired at me from all corners.

After Mrs Milton teases Emma some more, we head out to the driveway, where Stuart, Becca, Riley and I get in Stuart’s car.

“Seriously, DO get a room,” Becca laughs as Stuart gives me a quick kiss before we depart. “It really is so cool that you two are back together. First Viks reconciles with her parents, now you two are back together, all we need now is Charlotte and Keith getting back together and we’ll have had the most perfect, magical Christmas!” I bristle slightly at the mention of my BFF and the man who I very nearly chose ahead of Becca’s brother.

“I think they’re going to need a bit more time,” I say sadly.

“How did you find out about Viks, anyway?” Stuart asks.

“Addie told me on Facebook last night,” Becca says. “Jon and Viks went to Joshua’s for Christmas morning, then he drove them to her parents in the evening and insisted on sorting everything out… You know how he is, always insisting on fixing things for his ‘extended family’, even on Christmas night!”

“Yeah,” I laugh.

“I’ll remind you that you said that next time you complain about not having a girl band yet,” Stuart jokes, making Becca groan with frustration as the rest of the car laughs.

Much to my relief, the lunch goes smoothly. I’m well-acquainted enough with the Milton family that I can avoid all the traditional ‘new girlfriend’ questions. I’m not even that underdressed in my sweater dress and boots, despite the rest of the family wearing smart clothing- it turns out the restaurant isn’t THAT highbrow, it’s just that Stuart’s family all like dressing smartly for dinner. After an afternoon of hearty food, talking and laughter (I even manage to make Stuart’s dad chuckle at one point), Stuart drives us home, stopping off first at Riley’s house to drop him off along with Becca. As we prepare to pull away, however, we spot a familiar tall figure stepping out of Riley’s house- that of his older sister Krystie, hand-in-hand with her new boyfriend Mikey.

“Hi you two!” Stuart says happily, drawing the couple’s attention.

“Oh, hi Stu!” Krystie says, before her eyes widen as she sees me sat in Stuart’s passenger seat. “…Jamie? What are YOU doing in Stuart’s car? Unless…” I giggle happily as I pull Stuart back into his car and give him a long, deep kiss.

“Oh, yay!” Krystie cheers. “This is so cool, you two are so perfect together!

“We are,” Stuart says, making me giggle happily. “You two off out on a date, what with no girls' night tonight?”

“If by ‘date’ you mean ‘pizza, Netflix and sex’, then yes,” Mikey says, making his girlfriend give him a playful whack in the arm.

“…So obviously we’re not going to offer a double date,” Krystie laughs. “Though we are going to HAVE to in the future!”

“Too right!” I say excitedly.

“How many people have you told?” Krystie asks.

“…Actually, you’re the first person to find out who isn’t a member of the Milton family,” I say embarrassedly. “Haven’t even told my parents yet. Or Charlotte…”

“Well get on it!” Krystie urges. “Besides, we need to get going. Our ‘pizza’s getting cold.”

“So’s our Netflix,” Mikey quips, making everyone laugh.

“And the ‘other thing’?” I ask.

“I’ll leave that to your imagination,” Krystie giggles as Stuart and I drive off into the cold December night.

We arrive home at Charlotte’s house shortly afterwards, where I make a big show of opening the front door. Thankfully, Charlotte’s ‘condition’ means she’s not as nimble on her feet as she used to be, meaning I’m able to hide Stuart in the cloakroom before she strides out of the living room, her arms crossed and a frown on her face.

“And where the HELL have you been all day?” Charlotte asks, tapping her stockinged foot on the marble-like floor of the entrance hall.

“Oh, just out with my BOYFRIEND all day,” I say smugly, wincing a little as Charlotte’s face falls- for all she knows, it might have been Keith I was hanging out with…

“…That’s your cue, idiot…” I sigh, smiling as Charlotte’s face turns into an expression of pure joy as she sees Stuart step out of the cloakroom.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Charlotte cheers, giving my boyfriend a quick hug. “I knew it! I knew you two were meant to be together! You’re so perfect and awesome!”

“Thanks,” Stuart says, awkwardly returning Charlotte’s hug. “Jamie’s pretty perfect and awesome too…” I give Stuart a soft, playful punch before wrapping my arms around his firm, sexy torso. “By which I of course mean she’s pretty, she’s perfect and she’s most definitely awesome!”

“Better,” I giggle. “You awesome, perfect, macho, sexy studmuffin!” Stuart giggles as Charlotte continues excitedly bouncing up and down.

“This is so cool,” Charlotte gushes. “Have you told the other boys yet?”

“’Other boys’?” Stuart asks, clearly trying to restrain his paranoia. “Paul and Keith, right?”

“The ‘runners-up’, yes,” I say. “And no I haven’t, not yet… I wanted to get ’reacquainted’ with you first.” Stuart smiles a sad-looking smile and gives me a soft kiss on my forehead.

“Thank you,” Stuart says.

“For what?” I ask.

“For picking me,” Stuart says. “I- I know it must have been a hard choice…”

“I made the RIGHT choice,” I say. “That’s all that matters.”

After a quick late dinner, Stuart and I head straight to my room, where we waste no time in freeing each other of our clothes. The second our bodies are both naked, we collapse onto my bed, locked in a passionate embrace. Stu's fingers soon find their way to my erect nipples, teasing them with their warmth, before heading down to my crotch and gently stroking my clitoris, just enough to send sharp bolts of ecstasy through my body. As the orgasm builds inside me, I take hold of Stuart's clitoris between two fingers and gently 'twiddle' it, smirking as I feel his entire body shiver and squirm. Mere seconds later, we simultaneously orgasm, Stuart panting heavily in my ear as I unashamedly yell his name- and only his name- at the top of my voice.

“Oh god,” Stuart pants heavily as he rolls off of me. “I love you so much…”

“I love you too,” I whisper, snuggling close to Stuart’s flat, masculine chest and idly playing with the wispy hair covering it. My mind, however, is still on the two boys I rejected, and how they’ll take the fact that they’ll need to move on…

I wake up the following morning still clung to Stuart’s warm, firm body, and I smile as I listen to his gentle, rhythmic snoring.

“Stop snoring!” I whisper into his ear, gently rousing him from his slumber.

“I don’t snore,” Stuart mumbles as he slowly opens his eyes. “Mmm… It wasn’t a dream, then?”

“Nope,” I say with a wide grin on my face. “Me and you, this is reality now.”

“Good,” Stuart says, giving me a long, slow kiss. “What do you want to do today?”

“Ugh,” I sigh. “What I WANT to do and what I NEED to do are very different things…” Stuart sighs as he immediately figures out what I’m referring to.

“You need to see Paul and Keith,” Stuart says, and I sadly nod in response. “It’s okay, I honestly do get it…”

“Keith bought me a really expensive watch for Christmas,” I explain. “I’d just feel wrong keeping it…”

“I know, I saw,” Stuart says nervously. “…And Paul?”

“He got me memories,” I say, chuckling slightly. “Kinda like your memory stick, only without an amazing song. AND the memories weren’t nearly as good as yours!”

“I get giving the watch back,” Stuart says. “Seems a bit harsh to throw Paul’s memories back at him.”

“Says the man who gave Paul a black eyes!” I joke, making Stuart chuckle embarrassedly. “Besides… I should tell him to his face that he isn’t ‘the one’. You know, kinda symbolically…”

“I get it, I get it,” Stuart says quietly, giving me a soft kiss on my temple. “I might get that as a tattoo, ‘I Am The One’, heh. You know Krystie and Mikey are already talking about getting matching tattoos even though they’ve only been dating a couple of months?”

“Well you’re not putting that tattoo gun anywhere near MY body!” I giggle as I wriggle free of Stuart’s grip, only to giggle and shriek as he grabs me again. When he starts waggling his fingers in front of my face, however, I begin to panic.

“No,” I say firmly. “No, no tickling, no, no…”

“Oh relax,” Stuart laughs. “As if I would… Last time I even TRIED you nearly gave ME a black eye!” I giggle and breathe a sigh of relief as I lay on my back on my side of the bed.

“Ah yes, I know what’s coming now,” Stuart says with a smile, reaching into my drawer and handing me my thick orange dilator and my lubricant gel. “Would I get in a lot of trouble if I held this in front of my crotch?”

“YES,” I say, before descending into a fit of giggles as Stuart watches me dilate. “Are- are you still booked in for October?”

“Booked in, also on the cancellations list so I might even get in earlier,” Stuart says with a smile. “This time eighteen months from now… We’ll both be post-op, we’ll both still be in our mid-twenties, got our whole lives ahead of us…”

“Are YOU proposing now?” I tease.

“Would you say yes if I was?” Stuart says, before grimacing at his question. “Umm, never mind, technically this IS a new relationship, a bit early to be thinking about things like that!”

“I just want to enjoy being boyfriend and girlfriend,” I say as I relax with the dilator inside me.

“I can handle enjoying being the rich, sexy and famous Jamie-Lee Burke’s boyfriend,” Stuart laughs, giving me a kiss before hopping off the bed and jumping in the shower. Once I’ve finished dilating, I strip naked and head into the bathroom, intercepting Stuart as he leaves the cubicle and pushing him back under the hot, running water. Smiling wickedly, I sink to my knees and suckle Stuart's clitoris between my lips, feeling him shiver and thrust his small length into my mouth as I increase my 'suction'. After Stuart orgasms, much to my surprise, HE then sinks to his knees and sticks out his tongue, lapping at my labia and quickly finding my clitoris, which he stimulates to my second orgasm in under twelve hours.

As we dry ourselves off, however, Stuart looks unhappy, despite the orgasm we just shared.

“What’s up?” I ask, wrapping my arms around Stuart’s naked torso and kissing the back of his neck.

“Oh it- it’s stupid…” Stuart sighs.

“No, tell me, please,” I say. “Whatever it is, I won’t get mad.”

“It’s just-“ Stuart says hesitantly. “Ugh, it’s two things. The first is- when I am post-op- you know I won’t be, um, ‘functional’, right? You’ll have no way of telling when I’m ‘done’…”

“Yes, I’ve read all about it,” I say warmly. “I’ve also read about the ‘aids’ we can use and how they really aren’t that much more intrusive than a normal contraceptive…”

“And- oh god, this is silly…” Stuart moans.

“TELL ME,” I chuckle.

“Sex in the shower…” Stuart says VERY cautiously. “…You told me that used to be a ‘you and Paul’ thing.” I sigh sadly and cuddle Stuart tighter as he attempts to pull his shorts and his trousers on over his hairy legs.

“Well there’s nothing stopping it from being OUR thing,” I giggle. “And you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it…”

“I know, I know, it’s my brain that needs adjusting,” Stuart sighs. “And yes, I DID enjoy it. A LOT.” I giggle happily as I let the sexy man button up his shirt whilst I apply a light layer of make-up and dress in a comfortable bra and thong set, a pair of opaque black tights, a loose knee-length skirt and a tight grey jumper. I grab my hairbrush and start to brush out my long hair when I grin as Stuart takes his turn to embrace me from behind.

“Mmm,” Stuart happily moans in my ear, making me smile uncontrollably. “Do you HAVE to go out today?”

“Got to get it over with at some point,” I sigh. “Obviously I’m not going to ask you to come along if you don’t want to.”

“I kinda do but I kinda don’t,” Stuart sighs. “Yes, I want to spend time with you- especially as you’ve got your girls night tonight- but… I kinda want to tell Keith myself, you know? And me and Paul being in the same room…”

“Yeah, not a good idea,” I giggle, grabbing my handbag and slipping my feet into a pair of flats. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“I’ll be here,” Stuart says, giving me a long, slow kiss. “Though obviously NOT during tonight’s oestrogen festival!”

“Girl rays…” I tease, grabbing a handful of Stuart’s left buttock as we leave the house, kissing one more time before we get into our separate cars. I stare down at my handbag, which contains Keith’s watch and Paul’s DVD- neither boy will take the rejection well, but I DO need to reject them, if only so I’m not ‘keeping them hanging’ any more. Keith’s house is closest to Charlotte’s, so I start with him, though as I ring his doorbell, my whole body is shaking with nerves.

“Oh, hi Jamie,” Keith’s dad says as he opens the front door. “Keith’s upstairs in his room, I’ll call him down.”

“No, it’s okay,” I say. “I’ll go up to him.” The older man nods and lets me cautiously climb the stairs. I gently knock on Keith’s bedroom door and let myself in.

“Hi Jamie!” Keith says, delight and surprise etched on his face. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to thank you for my present,” I say, wincing as Keith’s smile grows wider. “…And to say that I can’t keep it. I’m sorry, Keith- I- I’ve got back together with Stuart.” As Keith’s face falls, my heart wrenches as my feelings for the tall man threaten to take control of my body.

“Jamie,” Keith whispers, placing his hands on my slender shoulders.

“No,” I say quietly, but firmly, as I push Keith’s hands away from me.

“I love you, Jamie,” Keith says. “You can’t tell me that you’d be happier with Stuart?”

“Believe me, I’ve thought about it long and hard,” I say.

“’Long and hard’ is precisely what Stuart ISN’T,” Keith argues, making me frown. “He can’t give you what I can…”

“Some things are more important than sex,” I say. “What’s in his heart is more important than what’s in his pants. Stuart and I… we’re soul mates. I’m sorry, Keith.”

“Do you really, truly believe that?” Keith asks me, and for a brief second, I pause. When Keith and I had sex… It was a feeling completely unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. But I HAVE experienced it since- with Paul- and whilst it was no less enjoyable with him, all it proved was that there was a very definite difference between ‘having sex’ and ‘making love’, and if I had to choose between sex and Stuart… It’s no choice at all.

“Yes, I really, truly believe it,” I say confidently. Much to my relief, Keith simply smiles a sad smile and nods his head.

“Then I hope you two will be very happy together,” Keith says stoically.

“You WILL find someone, Keith,” I say softly as I leave the clearly upset man alone with his thoughts. “You take care, okay?”

“You too, Jamie,” Keith says. “And if Stu ever does ANYTHING to hurt you…”

“I’ll send him round for a fat lip,” I giggle. “Goodbye, Keith.”

“Goodbye, Jamie,” Keith says as I shut his bedroom door and take a deep breath to clear my thoughts. Ever since I first met Keith, all those years ago, even before I’d ‘officially become Jamie-Lee’ I’d loved him in a way I’d never loved anyone before. Being with him had been my dream, my fantasy, and yet… When it became reality for those brief minutes, all I felt was empty. Whether it’s because I knew that all Keith saw when he fucked me was Charlotte, or because even back then, I knew I loved Stuart more, I can’t say. All I know is that the old saying is true: be careful what you wish for- you may get it.

I take a deep breath as I get back in my car and drive the short distance to Paul’s house- though as it’s a Saturday and the first day of the sales, it still takes long enough that I have plenty of time to compose my thoughts before I knock on his front door.

“Jamie!” Paul says with a wide grin as he opens the door to his flat. “I’d kinda hoped you’d drop round, please come in!”

“I’d better not,” I say quietly. “I just- I just came to say…” I roll my eyes as my carefully-prepared speech abandons me and I find myself tongue-tied.

“It’s okay,” Paul says. “Did you like my DVD?”

“I did,” I say, holding out the disc. “But I can’t accept it.” Paul’s smile falls as he takes the disc.

“Did you get together with Keith, then?” Paul sighs as he puts his disc in his pocket.

“No,” I say stoically. “I got back together with Stuart.”

“Stuart!?” Paul laughs. “What, after sleeping with me, you suddenly decided that you were a lesbian?”

“No, I’m straight,” I angrily spit. “I LOVE Stuart. I want to be with HIM.”

“He’s not a REAL man,” Paul snorts, making me bite my lip through sheer anger.

“Are you also saying that I’m not a REAL woman?” I growl.

“Well, no, you have a vagina,” Paul says. “The point is: so does quote-unquote he.”

“I didn’t have a vagina for the sixteen months that we were dating,” I say. “Does that make you suddenly gay?”

“Well, um, no,” Paul says, visibly backpedalling. “But you had breasts, you were taking hormones…”

“Stuart’s taking hormones,” I say angrily. “He DOESN’T have breasts, or any internal lady parts.”

“He’s small,” Paul argues feebly.

“He still smacked you down, didn’t he?” I chuckle. “Seems to me that he’s much more of a ‘real man’ than you’ll ever be. Enjoy the rest of your life, Paul.” Without saying another word, I spin on my heel and walk away from the frustrated young man who, for a very brief time, I DID love, but who successfully disproved the old saying that ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’.

As I drive home to Charlotte’s, I feel refreshed, renewed like for the first time in a very long while, my mind is clear and the road ahead of me is straight and free of any uncertainties. As I step through the front door, the familiar, wonderful sound of baby laughter tells me immediately that my goddaughter is present along with one or both of her parents.

“Hi Mary, Hi Dan!” I happily greet the husband and wife, before kneeling down in front of the giggling infant on Mary’s knee. “Hey, cutie!” I can’t help but let out a goofy giggle as Kristina-Leigh laughs louder at me.

“God, our entire house is filled with baby toys now!” Mary laughs as I sit down next to Charlotte. “Still, six months from now the same can be said of this place!”

“Twelve years from now, your entire house is going to be filled with cosmetics and posters of boys!” I tease, making Dan groan and shake his head.

“No it isn’t,” the proud father chuckles. “This little one’s staying little forever.”

“You wish,” I laugh. “Have you heard anything from Jon and Viks?”

“Think they’re still at her parents,” Mary says.

“I’m going out with Jon and the guys tonight,” Dan says. “Kind of a preliminary stag night, so I reckon you’ll see Viks. Speaking of ‘the guys’…” I smile and roll my eyes as Dan looks in my direction. “I had an interesting Facebook message from Keith a little while back, telling me that you, Miss Burke, have a new boyfriend- or should I say an ‘old’ boyfriend?”

“Oh my god, Jamie!” Mary squeaks. “Are- are you and Stuart back together?”

“I am…” I tease. “…Going to kill Keith for blabbing, though in fairness, I guess I DIDN’T ask him to keep it to himself…” Mary cheers happily, handing Kristina-Leigh to Dan before giving me a huge hug.

“This is so cool!” Mary enthuses. “You two are SO great together!”

“Everyone keeps saying that!” I laugh, returning Mary’s hug.

“Well it’s true!” Charlotte giggles.

“Who else have you told?” Mary asks.

“Just the people in this room,” I say. “Stuart’s family knows, Krystie and Mikey found out last night…”

“Oh, that girl is in SO much trouble for not telling me!” Mary laughs, sitting back down and taking her daughter back from her husband- who is clearly reluctant to give her up. “As are you!” Dan simply laughs and rolls his eyes as his wife chastises him.

“I’ll make it public after I tell my parents tomorrow, I promise!” I giggle.

“You’d better,” Mary says, making the whole room- even Dan and Kristina-Leigh- giggle.

Within an hour, Dan has departed for his boys’ night, leaving his daughter alone with myself, Mary and Charlotte- though we’re not alone for long, as Krystie arrives less than forty-five minutes later and immediately starts fussing over her goddaughter (after accepting her ‘telling off’ from Mary), followed by Hannah, Adeola, Becca, Nikki, Sarah and finally Viks, who receives hugs from every other girl (including Kristina-Leigh) and demands to see her engagement ring- demand that Viks is all too happy to acquiesce to!

“I still can’t believe it,” Hannah sighs as she leans against her BFF. “Little VIks, engaged to be married to the man of her dreams…”

“YOU can’t believe it?” Viks giggles. “I expected you to have been married at LEAST three times before I even got engaged once!” The whole room laughs as Hannah gives Viks a playful whack with a cushion, before giggling and cuddling her again.

“And talking of relationship upgrades…” Becca teases, looking in my direction. “Might I have a new sister-in-law in a few years’ time? And No, I don’t mean either of Riley’s sisters, cool as they are!” Krystie acknowledges Becca’s compliment, before looking expectantly in my direction.

“Yes, Miss Burke, do tell…” Krystie giggles. I sigh happily and a wide grin creeps onto my face, much to the delight of the assembled women.

“Yes, Stuart and I are back together,” I say, prompting cheers and hugs from everyone present. “Gonna be a while before I get one of those, though!” I point at Viks’s beautiful engagement ring, making the curvy bride-to-be blush with embarrassment.

“Growing up,” Nikki muses, “you must have thought at times that there was no chance you’d EVER get one of them… God knows I had those thoughts…”

“Yeah,” I sigh happily as my protégé receives a tender cuddle from her girlfriend. In truth, even before I became Jamie-Lee, I’d never had ANY thoughts of ever getting married, let alone as a bride. Even when I was with Paul, marriage never crossed my mind once- and yet with Stuart, it’s different. Whether it’s because one of my best friends is married and another one newly engaged, I can’t say for sure, but if Stuart WERE to propose to me tomorrow… I wouldn’t immediately say no.

“Before you get married though,” Becca giggles, “first you’ve got to have an engagement party, right?”

“RIGHT, Miss Milton,” Hannah says. “And as maid of honour, I declare EVERY girls’ night from now until the wedding to be Viks’s engagement party!” All of us- including Kristina-Leigh- laugh happily as Viks (and her ring) is showered with yet more attention.

“God, this is too much,” Viks squeaks.

“It’s not every day you get engaged,” I laugh.

“…And I believe someone has prepared something special for the occasion, isn’t that right, Miss Phillips?” Becca asks Sarah, who giggles and pulls a beautiful long purple dress out of her tote bag, a dress that Viks coos over as she holds against her curvaceous body.

“This… isn’t the only one Becca commissioned,” Sarah says with mild embarrassment, producing two more dresses, one a strapless chiffon gown in bright red and the other a slinky black dress with a very high slit down one side.

“Have you been doing work on the side or something?” Adeola teases her BFF, who simply giggles embarrassedly.

“What can I say? My daddy loves me,” Becca says as she holds the red dress up against her body.

“I’ll make sure your brother knows you said that,” I mock-threaten, making Becca blush even harder.

“Ahh, I want to try these on now…” Becca moans.

“Everybody in the room does!” Charlotte laughs. “Tell you what: we’ll let you off being a daddy’s girl if you let us all take a turn trying on those dresses, deal?”

“Deal!” Becca giggles, taking the black dress into the kitchen to change into, whilst Viks does the same with her purple dress. We spend the rest of the evening taking turns trying on the dresses (and trying to persuade Sarah to make some for the rest of us!) and gossiping about our relationships, before girls’ night ends with everyone going back to their respective homes. Unusually, Nikki & Sarah are the last to leave, just after 10pm.

“Ah, the cutest couple of them all,” Charlotte giggles as the two teenagers get into Sarah’s car. “Hope all the talk of engagement rings didn’t put any pressure on you, how long have you been going out now, 3 years?”

“Just a bit over 3 years, yeah,” Nikki says, looking longingly into her girlfriend’s eyes.

“I’ve never been to a wedding which had two brides before,” Charlotte coos. “No nasty, stinky BOY bits messing up the beauty of the whole thing!”

“I would take that personally,” Nikki giggles, “but I’m counting on my ‘boy parts’ being long gone by the time I get married!”

“Girl love forever!” Sarah giggles, holding her hand up to Nikki’s in an unusual and obviously personal way. I can’t help but smile happily as I wave goodbye to my protégé and her girlfriend. Even though they’re the youngest of all of us, their relationship is the oldest (with the exception of Mary & Dan’s), and the love between them is clearly absolute- a love I envy, and I doubt I’m the only one.

As I climb into bed, I send my boyfriend a text message filled with hearts and kisses, before a wicked smile creeps over my face and I climb out of bed, stripping completely naked (despite the cold) and standing in front of my full-length mirror. I take a photo of the reflection of my slim, nude form and attach it to the text message, laughing evilly as I send it. I laugh even harder when I receive a reply less than ten minutes later containing a photo of Stuart, who is himself completely naked save for a sock covering his genitals.

‘Not at the boys’ night?’ I text him with a smiley face.

‘Left early,’ the near-immediate response reads. ‘Kinda awkward with both me and Keith there. See you tomorrow. Love you xxx’

‘Love you too xxx’ I reply, before leaving my phone on my nightstand and quickly falling asleep.

My alarm wakes me on Sunday morning at 7:30am, and whilst I should be tired and grumpy for waking up that early at the weekend, I feel re-energised, almost exhilarated as I shower and dilate. Even though I’m only going to my parents’ house today, I still apply a full face of make-up, before dressing in a comfortable thong bodysuit, sheer black tights and a knee-length, long sleeved stripy dress. After breakfast- and numerous teasing comments from Charlotte about my overly-fancy look- I feel my heart beat faster as the doorbell rings. After slipping my feet into a pair of ankle booties with a 3” heel, I answer the door and immediately launch myself mouth first at my boyfriend, kissing him deeply and nearly melting into his mouth as he wraps his arms around my slender body.

“You two have fun at your parents’,” Charlotte says happily as she watches us leave.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own here?” I ask.

“I’ll be fine,” Charlotte says with a knowing smile. “Besides, I won’t be ‘alone’, will I?” Charlotte rubs her growing belly, making Stuart and I both giggle as we head out to his car.

“I missed you yesterday,” I say, giving my boyfriend another kiss as I get into the passenger seat of his car.

“We saw each other less than 24 hours ago,” Stuart laughs. “But you’re right, that IS more than 10 minutes apart… I really missed you yesterday.” I sigh and smile contentedly as we drive off into the cold Sunday morning. When we arrive at my parents’ house, I instruct Stuart to hide outside the living room door as I let myself in.

“Mum! Dad! It’s me,” I say as I’m greeted with big hugs from both parents. “I hope you don’t mind, but I invited my boyfriend along today as well…” Mum and dad both gasp with surprise as I make my announcement in the most blasé way possible, before HUGE grins creep across their face as Stuart makes his presence known and is greeted with a big hug of his own from mum and a hearty handshake from dad.

“It’s nice to meet you again, Mr and Mrs Travis!” Stuart says happily as we’re both guided to the sofa and parked next to each other, hand-in-hand.

“How many times do I have to tell you,” dad laughs. “’Mark and Susan’, not ‘Mr and Mrs Travis’!”

“I’ve only been dating your daughter for a couple of days!” Stuart laughs, wrapping an arm around my waist.

“Not as far as we’re concerned!” Mum laughs. “Your dad and I were really hoping you two would get back together, you have this ‘glow’ of happiness about you when you’re with each other. BOTH of you do.”

“I honestly haven’t been this happy in a very long time,” Stuart says. “Kinda feel bad that I didn’t get either of you anything for Christmas now…”

“There’ll be another one in 362 days’ time,” dad jokes. “Assuming you’re still going out by then…”

“Don’t jinx it!” I chastise, cuddling myself closer to Stuart, who tightens his grip on my waist.

“In 362 YEARS I still intend to be going out with Jamie,” Stuart says, making dad laugh heartily. Stuart and I spend the entire day at my parents’ house, only leaving after a large Sunday dinner despite mum and dad insisting that we stay the night- which amuses Stuart no end. After bidding farewell with big hugs- including a semi-awkward ‘man hug’ between Stuart and my dad- we head home to Charlotte’s house with full bellies and warm, contented hearts- and updated Facebook relationship statuses, which gain several hundred likes within an hour!

“Charlie? We’re home,” I call as I open the front door of Charlotte’s mansion, but my ‘BFF senses’ immediately kick into overdrive when I hear the sound of crying coming from the living room. “Charlotte? Are you okay?” Despite the heels on my booties, I run into the living room, where I find Charlotte curled up on her sofa, silently weeping.

“Charlotte,” I whisper, giving the distraught girl a long, loving hug. Without even having to be told, Stuart immediately goes into the kitchen and returns seconds later with three spoons and a big tub of ice cream that the three of us immediately tuck into.

“What happened?” I ask, allowing Charlotte the time to compose herself before answering.

“I- I went to see Keith,” Charlotte blubs. “I- I thought- I don’t know why-“

“Take your time,” I whisper, gently squeezing Charlotte’s hand.

“I thought,” Charlotte sighs, “that as you two had got back together, maybe, me and Keith…”

“What did he say?” I ask.

“He called me a slut,” Charlotte sobs. “And told me to get out of his house. Called me stupid for ever thinking that we could get back together…” I look back at Stuart, expecting him to interject an inappropriate comment about Charlotte being foolish- which, in fairness, she was- but much to my surprise, he remains quiet.

“I mean, I don’t know WHY,” Charlotte continues. “I don’t know why I thought he’d just take me back like nothing happened, but Stuart took you back…”

“Keith’s an arsehole,” Stuart says, making my brow furl with confusion.

“Umm, isn’t he your best friend?” I ask.

“No, YOU’RE my best friend,” Stuart says with a warm smile. “You always have been… Yes, Keith was my best male friend, but you wouldn’t know that the way he was staring at me last night… And NO man should speak to the mother of his child the way he did to you.”

“I picked the right godfather,” Charlotte says happily, getting off the sofa and giving my boyfriend a quick hug.

“I picked the right boyfriend!” I giggle, joining in the hug that Stuart is CLEARLY enjoying.

“Glad I’ve got such a great godfather for him, god knows he's never going to have a stepfather…” Charlotte moans.

“You. Will. Find. Someone,” I insist, but Charlotte simply snorts.

“Who’s going to want a 23 year old single mother?” My BFF moans.

“Who’s also a millionaire supermodel with her own TV show?” Stuart quips. “Most of the UK, I’d imagine.”

“I’m not a millionaire,” Charlotte says in a very small voice that makes me gasp with shock.

“But- but your dad’s wealth…” I whisper.

“Almost all gone,” Charlotte sobs. “The- the parties, the clothes, the jewellery… I’ve barely got 15 grand left…”

“Oh my god,” I whisper, cuddling Charlotte close to myself.

“I don’t even know how I’m going to afford to pay for nappies,” Charlotte blubs.

“WE’LL pay for them,” Stuart offers without any hesitation.

“Right,” I say firmly. “And you know ALL the other Angels will happily chip in to help.”

“I’m still going to have to sell this house,” Charlotte sighs. “Insurance is due in a few months, I can’t even cover that…”

“Well I CAN,” I say. “This is YOUR home, it always has been, and it always will be.”

“No- no, it’s too much!” Charlotte wails. “I can’t ask you to do that…”

“My dad’s been helping me with my investments,” I explain. “That initial quarter of a million you gave me has grown a LOT, even in the current economy!”

“Quarter of a million?” Stuart asks with confusion. Inwardly, I cringe- so much for keeping Stuart in the dark about how Charlotte and I first met…

“We’ll talk later,” I say. “Charlie… You’re not alone. You’ll NEVER be alone. I promise you that.”

“Thank you,” Charlotte whispers. For the rest of the evening, Stuart and I reassure Charlotte that no matter her financial worries, we’ll always be able to help her out. Confessing her financial troubles actually seems to have a positive effect on Charlotte, like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders, and there’s a smile on her face that I haven’t seen since she separated from Keith.

As I strip naked and climb into bed with Stuart, however, I can tell that he's still uneasy, and it's not hard to guess what he's uneasy about.

"What's the significance of £250 000?" Stuart asks as we snuggle next to each other.

"Ugh," I sigh. "You- you know Charlotte's backstory, right? About her dad?"

"Him being a murderer? Yes," Stuart says.

"He was also EXTREMELY controlling when it came to Charlotte," I explain. "She knew where she could find the evidence for her mum's murder- the doctors who sold her dad the drugs he used- but she couldn't get away from him long enough to acquire it. And, because we look so much alike-"

"You know, I've NEVER seen that," Stuart jokes.

"-Because we look so much alike," I continue, "I agreed to 'step in' for her for 5 days whilst she went up to the North-East to so what she needed to do."

"Hang on," Stuart laughs. "And you got away with this?"

"Oh, the miracle of make-up," I giggle. "I think they talked about it on QI once, if you can match something closely enough, the human brain can kinda 'fill in the blanks'."

"And the quarter of a million?" Stuart asks.

"My 'reward' for a job well done," I say.

"Seems a bit steep for a week's work," Stuart says. "AND it's a bit funny that someone with male genetics could look so much like 'the supermodel'... Hang on, were you transitioning at the time?"

"...No," I say in a small voice, not wanting to lie to my boyfriend.

"So, what," Stuart asks, "you lived life as a girl full-time for one week and decided you liked it so much you'd stay this way?"

"In fairness, my life as a boy REALLY sucked," I explain. "My best day as James doesn't compare to my worst day as Jamie-Lee. The important thing is that I AM Jamie-Lee... And I'm in a position to help the woman who gave me a better life than I could ever have imagined."

"WE'RE in a position to do that," Stuart says, cuddling me and giving me a kiss. "If what you say is true... I guess I owe Charlotte a lot too!" I giggle as I relax into Stuart's cuddle, smiling happily as we both quickly fall asleep.

We wake up the following morning just after 8:30, grateful for the lie-in after the hectic pace of the last few days. Despite it being Monday, there's no ballet today (Krystie always closes the studio between Christmas and the New Year) so Stuart and I take our time getting up, showering (separately) and, in my case, dilating.

Despite ballet being cancelled, the 'extended Angels family' is still having a get-together today, albeit at a coffee shop instead of a dance studio, and there will be a small camera crew present to gather footage for series 2 of 'The Angels', so I make sure my make-up and nails are perfect before dressing in a sexy lace bra and thong set, a lightly-laced waist cincher, sheer black stockings, a tight red sweater and a tight black miniskirt. 4" heeled stilettos complete my look, much to Stuart's dismay as he exits the shower to discover that I've suddenly become 2 inches taller than him. After he dresses in a smart shirt and trousers (and his poshest-looking walking boots), we head downstairs to find Charlotte already awake, lazily playing with a cold cup of coffee.

"Are you allowed to drink coffee whilst you're pregnant?" Stuart asks as I give my BFF a quick hug.

"I'm allowed one cup a day," Charlotte says. "Not that I've drank much of it, then again, I can't even afford to throw away a cup of coffee any more..."

"Charlie," I say softly. "Groceries from now on are coming out of MY pocket. All of them." To prove my point, I take Charlotte's cold, gross cup and pour it all away, quickly brewing the girl a hot replacement.

"Make sure you talk to Joshua today," Stuart advises Charlotte, who nods. "If anyone can give you help or advice with money, it's him. And you know he'll happily bankroll ALL Angel parties from now on, what with the free publicity it gets you all!"

"Hehe," Charlotte giggles. "God, I really don't want to go in front of the cameras today..."

"We can always call the producers and see if they can rearrange?" I offer.

"No," Charlotte sighs. "Best get it over and done with... Besides, I don't need your sister making any more attempts to replace me in the Angels!" Stuart chuckles at the mention of the increasingly fame-hungry Becca.

"You know, she is still SUPPOSEDLY a student," Stuart laughs. "Don't think she's actually done any studying since the start of filming for your show, though..."

"Speaking of, I'd better get on with mine when I get home," I sigh. "See if I can drag my grade back up to a 2:2..."

"We head to the small, intimate coffee shop not long afterward. Joshua had arranged for the shop to be closed to the public today so that we have it all to ourselves- something the owner was happy to agree to in exchange for free publicity and a LOT of money- but with all six Angels, Becca, Adeola, Nikki's gang and (where appropriate) boyfriends, it's still plenty packed. Notable by his absence, however, is Keith, which is something Charlotte can't help but notice as she sits with Hannah, Stuart and myself.

"You'd have thought he'd have come even if just to hang out with the guys," Charlotte moans as she drinks her decaffeinated drink. "I mean, Paul Kennedy's here and he's not going out with any of the girls..."

"Like he'd have the guts to ask any of us," Hannah giggles. "And besides, you know you're not the only single lady here..."

"Yes, but unlike you, I don't have men literally flinging themselves at me," Charlotte quips, making Hannah giggle happily.

"I think we should make this the official 'single lady' table!" Hannah announces. "No stupid TESTOSTERONE spoiling the air!"

"Fair enough," Stuart says, chuckling as the two of us stand up and Hannah calls Adeola and Dannii to their table.

"Oh great," Charlotte moans as we walk away, "I'm going to be at a table with 3 girls who are all at least 4 inches taller than me..." I chuckle as I walk hand-in-hand with Stuart to a large table around which Krystie, Mikey, Riley and Becca are sat enjoying their drinks.

"Ah, the sort-of newest couple!" Krystie teases as we sit down with our drinks. "I hope you're treated the godmother of my unborn child well, Stu..." My jaw drops as Krystie rubs her flat belly, before bursting out into fits of giggles.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" Krystie laughs, making me roll my eyes. "But seriously, you're what, three days into the new relationship? How are things?"

"Like we've been going out forever," Stuart says, earning quizzical looks from all three women at the table. "But I, um mean that in a good way, of course..."

"Moron," Becca giggles.

"I mean," Stuart says, looking happily into my eyes, "that I can't imagine being with anyone other than Jamie." I giggle and give Stuart a quick kiss, much to the delight of the table- not to mention the assembled TV cameras!

Mindful of my incomplete university assignments, I manage to sneak out early, unseen my cameramen who would undoubtedly have collared myself and Stuart for a few words about our new relationship, something I was NOT in a mood for.

Time passes quickly at home as Stuart helps me with my assignments- so much so that when Charlotte returns, I'm surprised to find that it's almost 3pm.

"You were gone a while," Stuart says to the pregnant woman, who dramatically crashes onto the sofa.

"Did- did you go to see Keith again?" I ask hesitantly.

"No," Charlotte replies. "Learned my lesson there! I actually took your advice, talked to Joshua- about the money, amongst other things."

"...And?" I ask.

"He's set me up with an expert accountant that he's paying for," Charlotte says. "And he's agreed to buy my house. He's going to rent it to me so I- and, of course, my son- can live here as long as I want."

"How much is the rent?" I ask nervously.

"...6 grand a month," Charlotte sighs. "But he'll take care of everything, the maintenance, the council tax, and I can easily afford 6 grand a month... It just won't leave much for anything else, especially after baby stuff..."

"THREE grand a month," I say with a confident smile.

"No, no, I can't ask you to do that," Charlotte says.

"TWO grand a month," Stuart says.

"Um," I say quietly. "Stu, you don't even MAKE two grand a month..."

"Well then I'll contribute what I can," my boyfriend says with a warm smile. "I can't have my godson going hungry now, can I?"

"Thank you, thank you both," Charlotte sniffles, giving us both a huge hug. "But this is my mess, I should get myself out of it..."

"NO," I say firmly. "We're your friends. That means when you're in trouble, we help in any way we can. Right, Stu?"

"Right!" Stuart says.

"I don't deserve friends like you..." Charlotte sobs as I put my university work away and we begin to discuss how we'll save her finances.

As Stuart and I climb into bed at the end of a long day poring over facts and figures- but not the usual kind you'd associate with a fashion model- my boyfriend makes an observation that surprises me.

"Jamie..." Stuart says nervously. "About Charlotte..."

"Yes?" I ask.

"I mean this in the nicest possible way," Stuart continues. "I'm not TRYING to be nasty but- she- she is bipolar, isn't she?" I bristle slightly at the perceived insult to my BFF, but the more I think about it, what with Charlotte's mood swings, her frequently erratic behaviour and her (thankfully very) occasional talk of suicide and self-harm... Stuart may have a point.

"She's never been diagnosed with it," I say stoically. "...Though she's never even seen a counsellor before... I think she figures that if she's never diagnosed, she'll never have it..."

"My parents were the same way with me when I entered puberty," Stuart sighs. "I had my first period at the age of 13, and from then until I started transitioning were the worst three years of my life. Some nights I'd just hole up in my room and scream, hoping that- I dunno, I'd somehow 'transcend' or something... Puberty nearly killed me, and I'm not being metaphorical." I cuddle Stuart close to my body as he confesses his feelings in a very unmasculine way.

"Don't let 'the guys' hear you talking like this!" I joke.

"This is going to sound odd," Stuart says, "but I'm really not that bothered about being 'one of the guys'. I wasn't joking earlier when I said that you were my best friend. I love you in every way imaginable, and if I had to choose between hanging out with 'the guys' or The Angels for the rest of my life... I'd honestly choose The Angels. As the token boy, of course."

"BOY!" I giggle sighing as Stuart wraps a muscular arm around my waist.

"I prefer 'man'," Stuart says. "'Real' men aren't afraid to talk about feelings, emotions, especially not with the woman they love."

"MAN, then," I laugh, sighing happily as Stuart and I once again cuddle each other to sleep.

My alarm clock wakes me the following morning at 7:45am, much to Stuart's dismay. After giving him a kiss and letting him get back to sleep, I dilate, before showering, applying my make-up and dressing for the day in a fresh bra and thong set, black tights, high-heeled knee-high boots and a short, long-sleeved black dress.

"Every square inch of you is perfection," Stuart says, giving me a long hug and an even longer kiss as I grab my handbag and prepare to leave. "Sure you don't want me to drive you? I don't have to be at the theatre until 11..."

"Nah, I'm picking up all of Nikki's gang," I explain. "The Angelmobile's the only car big enough for that..."

"I can always drive that, if you want," Stuart offers.

"And leave me stuck in the back with five 17 year old girls? No thanks!" I giggle, making Stuart laugh and give me another kiss.

"Well then you and I are going on a date tonight," Stuart announces in a grand voice. "I'll pick a restaurant, I'll wear my sexy shirt, you wear- well, anything really, you always look beautiful in anything you wear."

"SO DO YOU," I say, giving Stuart another final kiss as I leave. "I'll see you tonight. It's a date!"

"Damn right it is!" Stuart laughs as I head downstairs to find Charlotte waiting in the entrance hall for me.

"Hi Charlie," I say, greeting my BFF with a hug. "I'm just off out, Nikki and her gang have got a shoot today, Joshua wants them to be chaperoned..."

"Jamie..." Charlotte says, approaching me and giving me a tender hug. "Promise- promise me that you won't leave..."

"Of COURSE I won't," I say, returning Charlotte's hug. "Why on Earth would you ever think that I would?"

"Because you have Stuart now," Charlotte sniffles.

"I do," I say. "And I love him, and he's my best friend... But you're my best friend FOREVER. And you always will be. If I was forced to choose between you and him... I wouldn't choose. Simple as that."

"Thank you," Charlotte sniffs.

"What have you got planned for today, anyway?" I ask my BFF, who smiles and wipes the tears from her eyes.

"Getting set up for tomorrow's NYE party," Charlotte says. "And before you say anything... Joshua's already agreed to foot the bill for it- provided we have a camera crew present, of course!"

"Sounds fair," I giggle, giving my BFF one more hug before getting in the Angelmobile (which was dropped off here yesterday after the 'coffee morning') and driving away.

45 minutes later, I arrive at the pre-booked studio with the five teenagers in tow, feeling every bit like a teacher on a field trip- even though three of the girls are taller than I am! I certainly gain a new appreciation for all the work Nikki does for the Angels as I- for one day only- adopt the 'PA' role and escort the girls to their dressing room, ensuring that all their requirements are met and that the photoshoot runs on schedule. The shoot itself is very basic- just a few group and solo shots in plain outfits (mostly casual skirts and tops) that Joshua can use for publicity purposes- but as none of the girls besides Nikki or Dannii have any professional modelling experience (and Nikki's is severely limited), the shoot takes a LOT longer than expected, to the point where even I'm tired when the photographer announces that the shoot is complete and we can all go home.

"Not bad," Nikki teases as she accompanies me to the coffee machine. "Think you might need a few pointers if you're to make a go of being a PA as a career..."

"Oh hilarious," I say sarcastically before giggling along with my protégé. "Though you don't need ANY pointers, you're all so confident up there. Well... Lauren looked a little nervous at times."

"Yeah, she's not 'really' a model," Nikki muses. "Though that's not to say that she isn't beautiful, it's just next to Dannii..."

"A short, curvy dark-haired girl feeling inferior to her tall, skinny blonde friend?" I muse. "Heard that story before, and I dimly recall it ending with the dark-haired girl getting swept off her feet by the man of her dreams..."

"Hehe," Nikki giggles. "I'll have to tell her you said that... Jamie, can I- can I tell you something?"

"Of course," I say.

"In private, I mean," Nikki says. I quickly nod and follow Nikki into the ladies' toilets, inwardly giggling at the thought of two genetically male people having a very feminine discussion in the little girls' room.

"What's up?" I ask. "Is it about your SRS?"

"No," Nikki sighs. "Still not got a date for that..."

"The more you put it off..." I say, making Nikki close her eyes with frustration.

"I know, I know... It's Sarah... She's got an engagement ring," Nikki explains, making me gasp. "She hasn't proposed- I'm only seventeen, she'd need my parents' permission... Though as they made her godmother to my baby sister, I doubt they'd say 'no'..."

"...And what would you say?" I ask. "If Sarah proposed, that is."

"Yes," Nikki says without hesitation. "I... I love her. It's just- it's just-"

"Seventeen is a bit young to be thinking about marriage?" I tease.

"Except I DO think about it, all the time," Nikki sighs. "I even DREAM about it... Ever since I was fourteen, when Sarah and I started going out, I've had this recurring dream where the two of us are both brides, we're both getting married, living out the rest of our lives together..."

"You're so lucky," I say, earning a quizzical stare from Nikki. "You've known all along who you loved, who you were going to spend the rest of your life with... That's a rare privilege, Nikki."

"I... I kinda need some advice here," Nikki sighs.

"Isn't it obvious what you should do?" I tease. Nikki sadly shakes her head, her long brown hair fluttering in front of her immaculately made-up face.

"Buy HER a ring," I say with a smile. "Trust me when I say it couldn't be more obvious how much Sarah loves you. And Charlotte was right- a wedding with two brides would be the cutest thing ever! Just don't leave it too long before sending me an invite, okay?"

"Okay!" Nikki says with a wide grin on her fuchsia lips. "Thanks as always, Jamie... This has been a real help."

"You know I'll always be here for you if you need me," I say, giving the taller girl a quick hug. "Now you'll have to excuse me, as I have a hot date!"

"Make sure the BOY treats you like the centre of the universe!" Nikki giggles.

"I'm not interested in 'boys' anymore," I giggle. "'Men', on the other hand, 'real' men are DAMNED good!" Nikki and I both exit the toilet in fits of laughter, much to the confusion of Sarah, who greets Nikki with a kiss before we all head out to the Angelmobile. After dropping the five girls back at their homes, I head home and change out of my dress, tights and boots into a pair of black, seamed stockings and a slinky, knee-length dress in deep crimson that exposes a LOT of cleavage. After touching up my make-up and repainting my nails to match my dress, I put on my favourite sapphire earrings, and fasten Stuart's memory stick necklace around my neck, before spritzing myself with my favourite perfume and pulling on a pair of low heels, conscious of the short stature of the man I'll be seeing. After giving my hair a final brush to maximise its volume, I head downstairs to wait for my date- and immediately earn an approving grin from my BFF.

"Sexy sexy lady!" Charlotte giggles. "But those heels- a bit low, maybe?"

"Stuart's only 5' 7"," I explain. "Don't want him to feel short stood next to me."

"Best. Girlfriend. Ever!" Charlotte cheers.

"Will- will you be okay tonight?" I ask, conscious of my earlier chat with Charlotte. "Because if you're feeling lonely, I can always call Stu-"

"Best. BFF. Ever!" Charlotte says, giving me a hug but taking care not to wrinkle my dress. "And don't you DARE call Stu! You go out and you have fun! Besides, Hannah and Addie are coming over for a 'single ladies' night. No TAKEN women allowed!" I giggle as Charlotte 'throws me out'- though as happy as I am that she's back to her usual, bubbly self, I can't help but remember Stuart's 'diagnosis' from the last night.

All negative thoughts leave my mind, however, when Stuart picks me up in his car- and as promised, he is indeed wearing his 'sexy shirt'- a very cute fitted shirt in black cotton with a light grey pattern down one side. I greet my boyfriend with a long, deep kiss, the romantic moment only slightly spoiled by Charlotte's enthusiastic cheering from her front door!

"I missed you," Stuart says as we get in his car. "And before you say 'it's been less than twelve hours', I don't care, you're my girlfriend, I love you, whenever we're apart, I miss you. So there." I laugh heartily, leaning over and giving Stuart a kiss on his stubbly face.

"I missed you too," I sigh happily. "What restaurant have you chosen?"

"New Japanese place that opened near Leicester Square," Stuart says. "NOT sushi, I know you don't like that. You're not allergic to shellfish, are you?"

"Nope," I say. "And I LOVE Japanese food!" Stuart and I both grin widely as we drive into the cold London night, our stomachs growling in anticipation of the oriental treats that await us.

Two hours later, we returned home with our bellies filled with ramen and tuna and our mouths filled with laughter- thanks in no small part to my inept attempts to learn how to use chopsticks after a generous helping of sake! The second we step through my bedroom door, I grab Stuart's sexy shirt and pull the handsome man close to me, kissing him deeply and quivering with excitement as his tongue enters my mouth.

Stuart's sexy shirt very quickly finds its way to the floor, closely followed by our shoes, his trousers and my dress. I sit Stuart down on the edge of my bed and straddle him, kissing him deeply once again and wrapping my stocking-clad legs around his tight, bare torso. Stuart slowly unclips my stockings and slides them down my smooth legs, teasing my soft flesh with his fingertips every inch of the way until my legs are bare, tingling under his touch. He then skilfully unhooks my bra and sends that tumbling to the floor, before gently kissing my nipples, which harden in an instant. As I lower Stuart's boxer shorts, he slowly slides my thong out of my backside, leaving us both totally naked in the cold air of my bedroom. We kiss each other deeply one more time, before collapsing back onto the bed entwined in each other's arms.

Stuart then suddenly spins round on his backside, presenting his crotch to my face. As I feel his tongue start to coat my clitoris with a layer of saliva, I suckle his engorged clitoris, and soon we're orgasming together, thrusting into each other's mouths over and over again until we're both completely spent. Our tired bodies then flop across each other on the bed, panting heavily and coated in a thin sheen of sweat.

"I LOVE you," Stuart says as he gently pulls the covers over the two of us.

"I ADORE you," I reply, cuddling up to Stuart and letting his body heat warm me to sleep.

As I slumber, I find myself walking through an unfamiliar place. It's late twilight and I'm alone, wearing a simple pink dress. Suddenly, I become aware of cheering coming from behind me, and as I turn around, I find myself stood in a registry office, with all the seats filled with my friends. Suddenly, my dress changes into a flowing white bridal gown, and when I turn back around, Stuart is stood in front of me in his groom's tuxedo, smiling at me with a look of pure love in his eyes.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the minister says, causing my heart to beat twice as fast as normal. "You may kiss the bride..."

I slowly blink my eyes back into awakeness, and grab my phone to check the time- 3:20am.

"Dammit, Nikki..." I whisper as I put my phone away and snuggle back into my still-sleeping boyfriend's chest.

When I wake up on the morning of New Year's Eve, I'm still clung to Stuart's torso, and if it wasn't for a knock at my door, I don't think I'd ever have let him go.

"Jamie!" Charlotte shouts from the other side of my bedroom door. "Stuart! It's 9am, what the hell did you two do last night? We've got a party to prepare, chop chop!" I giggle and sigh, before waking Stuart up with a kiss in the centre of his chest.

"I say again:" I say to my half-awake boyfriend. "I ADORE you."

"I'll always love you," Stuart mutters in his half-asleep state as he slowly opens his eyes.

"We'll be there in a bit!" I yell to Charlotte, giggling as Stuart is startled back to full awakeness.

"Um, yeah, just give us a minute Charlie," Stuart says, unwrapping my arms from his body and jumping in the shower whilst I dilate. As I lay naked on my bed, checking the phone with my vagina filled with my thick orange tube, I can't help but muse on last night's dream. I'm definitely going to have to give Nikki a telling off for putting the idea in my head, but as dreams go... It's definitely one I'd be happy to have again.

After switching places with Stuart in the shower, I apply a light layer of make-up and dress in a very plain long-sleeved playsuit and a pair of black tights- though this doesn't stop Stuart from embracing me from behind when I get ready to leave my bedroom!

When I head downstairs, I'm unsurprised to find Charlotte hard at work directing people ahead of tonight's party.

"At LAST!" Charlotte teases, greeting both myself and Stuart with big hugs. "Lots of bottles of wine there, the bar there, you know what to do."

"Yes ma'am," Stuart says resignedly as he starts shifting the heavy bottles two at a time.

"You're looking happier," I say to my BFF, who smiles warmly in response.

"I'm feeling a lot better," Charlotte sighs. "Got a lot of my problems solved since Christmas... Okay, my MAN problems aren't fixed, but that's all that men are- problems!"

"Thanks," Stuart says, returning for two more wine bottles.

"BOY," Charlotte and I simultaneously giggle.

"Sorry, I mean MAN," I shout after Stuart, who nods in appreciation before returning for yet more wine.

"You know, I was really dreading tonight," Charlotte sighs. "I was single, broke and 5 months pregnant and had to suck up- on camera- to a load of celebrities, many of whom I don't even like..."

"And now?" I ask.

"...I'm not broke any more," Charlotte giggles. "But really, I'm fine. I can live without Keith... I think." I give my BFF another hug, which she gratefully reciprocates.

"Group hug," Stuart says, hugging both myself and Charlotte with his wider arms.

"I CAN'T live without you two," Charlotte says. "Fortunately, I know I don't have to."

"Too right," I giggle as I help Stuart put away his wine.

Just over twelve hours later, the party is in full swing. Charlotte- in a tasteful but still stylish maternity dress- is entertaining everyone as only she can, and Stuart and I- having also changed into chic party wear (trousers and another 'sexy shirt' for Stuart, a knee-length designer dress for me)- are mingling with the partygoers, Angels and non-Angels alike. As the clock counts down to the new year, I grab Stuart and stand in full view of a TV camera, and as Big Ben strikes to signal the start of the new year- and confetti and streamers are thrown everywhere- I kiss him long and deep, not letting go until long after the twelfth 'bong'.

"Happy new year," I say with a wide smile.

"Happy new year, beautiful," Stuart says, giving me another kiss. As I look around at all the happy couples celebrating the start of 2015, I can't help but feel sorry for Charlotte, stood on her own at the side of the party- HER party- and in a way, I can't help but feel sorry for Keith and Paul as well. It could have been either of them with their arms wrapped around my waist, but instead, they'll be spending their New Year alone, just as I had last year.

As I look into my boyfriend's eyes, though, I'm more convinced than ever that I made the right choice. A new year is a time for a fresh start, a time to put the mistakes of the past behind us and look toward the opportunities of the future, and that's precisely what I intend to do. And who knows? When the time comes to welcome the start of 2016, it might be me with a ring on my finger, just as Viks does, just as Mary did last year. By the end of the year, I'll be 24 years old, which was the same age my mum was when she got engaged...

Whether or not I get engaged, or whether or not I'm even still with Stuart, I know that 2015 will be mine for the taking. 2014 was a year of upheaval for me- moving back in with Charlotte, getting together with, breaking up from and getting BACK together with Stuart, and the small matter of my SRS- and whilst 2015 will undoubtedly have its challenges, they're ones I'm eager to face head-on, hand-in-hand with the people I love.

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

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

“Anywhere is perfect, as long as you’re there,” I giggle, leaning in to give Stuart a quick kiss. Our meal is long since finished and we’re both eager to get home- but the presence of a camera crew in the restaurant is kind-of putting a dent in our romantic plans, as is made obvious to me when Stuart stares sadly into my eyes with a ‘PLEASE can we go now?’ look on his face. Eventually, the camera crew pack up their equipment, and we waste no time in climbing into the back of the nearest taxi.

“So,” Stuart giggles. “Your place or mine?”

“Yours,” I laugh. “Charlotte’s having a ‘single ladies’ party at her house…”

“Afraid she’ll cramp your style?” Stuart teases.

“Afraid we’ll cramp HERS!” I giggle as Stuart gives his address to the cabbie.

“Never had a romantic evening recorded for millions to watch before,” Stuart laughs as he wraps a strong arm around my slender waist.

“Hardly MILLIONS,” I reply. “Hundreds of thousands at best.”

“Enough to get renewed for a THIRD season, though,” Stuart says, and I nod in reply. Interest in the second season of our reality show is increasing now that filming’s started, and all six of us are very active promoting it on our social media sites, so Stuart’s assumption that we might get over a million viewers isn’t that far-fetched. The vast majority of my time- and Stuart’s time, for that matter- has been taken up with holding auditions for Joshua’s new girl band. Becca and Adeola have finally managed to persuade Joshua that they need a band, so for the whole of last week, the two of us- along with Joshua and (when she’s not busy with her school) Krystie have been sat behind a table pretending to be Simon Cowell as hundreds of girls between the ages of 16 and 24 try to persuade us that they have what it takes to be the next Cheryl Fernandez-Versini. Some of the girls have even been transgendered, which from a personal standpoint, is pretty satisfying- Joshua’s said he wants to hire the three best women for the job regardless of which gender they were born, but I have high hopes that a ‘girl like me’ might end up in the final line-up.

With my professional life getting increasingly hectic- and the final year of my Open University Degree placing additional strain on my free time, to the point that I’ll probably have to delay graduating for a year- it’s a relief that my personal life has finally started to settle down. My relationship with Stuart has picked up from where it left off without even the slightest hitch- my ‘indiscretion’ last year has been all but completely forgiven by Stuart, though his family are still a little wary around me, especially Becca (which makes working life even MORE difficult). Stuart and I spend virtually every night together in bed, and we’ve become more and more adventurous sexually as well- with me now being ten months post-op, I’m more and more comfortable ‘exploring’ the new sensations my new body has to offer. Eight months from now, Stuart himself will be post-op… Though he’ll have to wait a lot longer before he can use his new ‘equipment’.

In contrast to Stuart’s parents, my parents couldn’t be happier that Stuart and I are back together. Whilst I still live with Charlotte full-time, my old room at my parents’ house is still furnished for me (and Stuart) to use whenever I want, and they’ve also said they’ve splashed out on an expensive gift for his 25th birthday next month. They clearly see him as their future son-in-law, even though we’re not even so much as engaged yet.

Stuart and the rest of the boys have grown closer to us girls too on a social level too, with Stuart even taking on party organising duties last week after Nikki (my ‘protégé’) passed her driving test, though his choice of ‘Top Gear’ as a theme was a bit predictable! Whenever we have out, it’s no longer a case of ‘girls in one room, boys in the other’, we now all mix together like one big, happy family (with the exception of girls nights out on Fridays and girls nights in on Saturdays, of course).

…There is, however, one exception to the ‘happy family’, and that’s Keith, and to a lesser extent, Charlotte. Between us, the Angels have taken a pact that Charlotte will NEVER be alone in her big home up to and including after her baby is born. It’s not so much that she’s on suicide watch, but what Stuart said at Christmas about Charlotte possibly being bipolar stuck in my mind, and for her sake- and the sake of her unborn child- myself, Krystie, Mary (when she’s not busy with her own child), Hannah and Viks make sure that no matter what, we’ll always have time for Charlotte if she needs us.

Keith, on the other hand, has all but completely vanished from our lives. Sometimes I catch myself wondering what my life would be like if I had chosen him instead of Stuart- I HAD pined after him for over three years, after all- but every time I ‘fantasise’, all the negative consequences that choice would have brought come to mind- consequences like an inevitable alienation from Charlotte, the disapproval of the rest of the Angels (and possible Nikki and her gang too), and the effect it’d have on Stuart… But the effect on Keith of my decision to be with Stuart has been just as negative. Stuart tells me that he rarely hangs out with the boys any more- he wasn’t at the Top Gear party last week, and has been replaced as Jonathan’s best man after missing several of Jonathan’s wedding planning meetings (though I suspect at these meetings are less about planning a wedding and more about eating junk food and playing videogames). Stuart’s said that he’s worried about Keith... And so am I.

All thoughts of Keith leave my mind, however, when Stuart and I arrive in his bedroom and his suit almost immediately finds its way to his floor, closely followed by my dress, my shoes and my sexy extra-special lingerie. I pant heavily as Stuart gently teases my nipples with his lips, whilst I stroke his swollen clitoris, smiling wickedly as I feel his body start to twitch and pulse. Within seconds, we're on his bed, our mouths locked in a passionate embrace and our hands exploring each other's most sensitive, personal areas. Soon, I break away from the kiss and turn so that Stuart's groin is directly in front of my face. I gently take his clitoris between my lips, and Stuart runs his expert tongue over my most sensitive organ, stimulating it to orgasm and beyond as I feel Stuart thrust uncontrollably, telling me that he has reached his climax as well.

“Thank god they weren’t filming THAT,” Stuart giggles as I snuggle into his warm chest.

“Get some sleep babe,” I order between heavy panting. “Long day tomorrow…”

“Sure thing,” Stuart says, giving me a long kiss before we both quickly fall into a deep sleep.

I awaken still snuggled up against Stuart’s slender, slumbering frame, and I spend at least fifteen minutes listening to him breathe before waking him with a kiss on his lips.

“I could stay awake, just to hear you breathing…” I sing to my boyfriend as he slowly wakes up.

“Good, but I doubt Becca would approve of you being in the band,” Stuart laughs.

“…And I’m happy where I am, on the OTHER side of the desk,” I laugh, patting Stuart firmly on the backside as he gets up and heads into the shower. After I shower, I apply a moderate layer of make-up before pulling on a brand-new bra and thong set (Stuart and I keep some clothes at each other’s houses), a pair of black tights, a tight blue top and an extra-tight knee-length black pencil skirt. After pulling on the same shoes I wore last night (much to Stuart’s annoyance) I walk downstairs, hand-in-hand with my love, to where his family are waiting around their vast breakfast table.

“Morning Stu!” Stuart’s newly-retired dad says to us as we take our seats. “Morning Jamie! Good night out, I take it?”

“It was great,” I reply with a smile. “Are we the only ones up?”

“Lee and Emma stayed the night at their house,” Stuart’s mother explains. “Becca and Riley are still in bed… I hope once you get her that band she wants you’ll also get some hard work out of that girl!” I open my mouth to respond, but am silenced by a disapproving grumble from Stuart’s father.

“Oh come on, dad,” Stuart pleads. “It’s NOT getting in the way of her uni studies- if anything, it’s helping them as she’s studying music- and you know I’ll never let her get exploited the way some stars are.”

“Try and look at it from my perspective,” Mr Milton sighs. “My baby girl is being turned into a pin-up and it’s my son who’s pinning her up there!”

“’Pin-up’ is a bit harsh,” I try to argue, only to get cut off by the elderly gentleman.

“My son AND his girlfriend,” Stuart’s dad sighs, just as Becca descends the staircase hand-in-hand with her boyfriend.

“Speak of the devil and she appears,” Stuart laughs, prompting Becca to stick her tongue out at him as she sits down.

“Only good things, I trust?” Becca laughs as talk quickly descends into a discussion of her upcoming ‘superstardom’, but all throughout the breakfast all I can focus on are the accusing looks I’m STILL occasionally getting from Stuart’s family- even from the girl I’m trying to make into a superstar. It’s a relief when Emma (Stuart’s older sister) and her husband arrive to whisk us all away for lunch, where the atmosphere is at least a little friendlier (thanks mostly to Emma’s pregnancy being the main topic of discussion).

“Do you…” I ask hesitantly as Stuart and I drive home after the meal. “Do you think your family will ever forgive me for, well, you know?”

“I’VE forgiven you, that’s all that matter,” Stuart says. “I LOVE you. What the old farts and the little brat think… Is it important?”

“’Old farts and little brat’ is a bit harsh, don’t you think?” I giggle.

“Meh, it’s true, though,” Stuart sighs. “They’ll come round, I know they will. When they see that I’m NOT letting you go… They’ll have to!” I giggle happily as Stuart drives us to our next ‘rendezvous’ of the day, this time with my own parents.

“Jamie!” Mum beams happily, greeting me and my boyfriend with a big hug each. “Stuart! You’re both looking so well!”

“Hi Jamie!” Dad says, also giving me a big hug. “Hello, son! Come on in, you’ve not got any cameras with you this time, I trust?”

“No, no, just us,” I laugh as I snuggle up next to Stuart on our sofa.

“That’s a very nice pair of shoes,” mum says. “Did you get them from one of your endorsements?”

“Yeah,” I say, showing off the footwear as dad and Stuart playfully roll their eyes at each other. “I can always get you a pair if you’d like…”

“Noo,” mum giggles. “If I tried wearing a pair like that I’d probably break my ankles if not my neck!”

“So, Mark,” Stuart announces loudly. “Had any chance to take those new golf clubs for a spin yet?” My dad laughs as Stuart attempts vainly to add some masculinity to the conversation.

“Not in this weather,” dad chuckles. “Might head up to the course on Wednesday if the weather clears up. Fancy coming with me for a round?”

“Heh, haven’t played golf in ages,” Stuart laughs. “My dad tried to teach me a few years ago but it was just a few months after I started transitioning, my upper body strength sucked…”

“I can teach you,” dad says with a warm smile. “It’s easy enough once you get the hang of it.”

“Okay,” Stuart says with a wide grin of his own. “Wednesday it is!”

“Boys and their toys…” I tease, making Stuart give me a tight, playful cuddle.

“Girls and their shoes!” Stuart retorts as the four of us giggle happily- the relaxed, friendly atmosphere a far cry from the tension of lunch with Stuart’s family. The ‘duelling discussion’ of fashion vs sport continues through the rest of the day, including a large dinner that mum cooks for us. We eventually head home just after 6pm with my skirt feeling extra tight from all the delicious food I’ve eaten all day.

“Going to need to work EXTRA hard at ballet tomorrow,” I laugh as I relaxed my bloated-feeling stomach.

“Oh please,” Stuart laughs. “You’re still as skinny as a rake! Well, skinny but with all the right sexy curves in all the right sexy places!” I giggle as Stuart gently strokes my thigh with his left hand.

“You and dad seem to get on better and better every time you see each other,” I say. “God knows you get on better than I do with your mum…”

“I like Mark, he’s a great guy,” Stuart says. “Can’t believe he reacted the way he did when he, well, ‘met Jamie-Lee’ for the first time.” I sigh as I remember my disastrous coming out three years ago.

“I think he realised that either he needed an attitude adjustment or risk losing his child forever,” I mumble. “Glad he picked the right option… Think he still hasn’t forgiven himself for that first meeting.”

“But have YOU forgiven him?” Stuart asks.

“A thousand times over,” I say happily. “If I ever end up adopting a child, I’d hope to be as good at raising them as my parents.” Stuart smiles and squeezes my hand as we drive into the night.

“Hi honey, we’re home!” I giggle as I open the front door of Charlotte’s vast home.

“And what time do you call this?” My six months pregnant BFF asks, tapping her foot on the floor in mock disapproval, before bursting into a fit of giggles and giving myself and Stuart big hugs each.

“Are Jon and Viks still here?” Stuart asks of Charlotte’s ‘babysitters’ for today.

“Nah, sent them home about an hour ago,” Charlotte says dismissively.

“Umm, okay, you were okay on your own?” I ask, not even bothering to disguise my concern.

“Oh please,” Charlotte giggles. “I’m 23, I’m not an infant! Come on, hope you’re still hungry, Jon made an AMAZING soufflé!”

“This would be a high, then,” Stuart whispers to me as we follow Charlotte into the living room, where Stuart thankfully finishes off Jonathan’s soufflé so I don’t have to torture my stomach any further.

“You two have fun with your parentses?” Charlotte asks.

“Yeah,” Stuart sighs, his stomach clearly feeling the effects of the soufflé. “My folks are still a bit awkward around Jamie, though…” I frown as I see Charlotte’s face start to fall- the reason for Stuart’s family’s unhappiness toward me also affected Charlotte on a very personal level.

“Meh, more Jamie for the rest of us, then!” Charlotte giggles. “I take it clan Travis are more accepting of their prospective son-in-law?”

“Bit early to say ‘son-in-law’,” I laugh nervously. “But yes, yes they are, dad even wants to take Stuart out for a round of golf…”

“Ooh, bonding with the old man…” Charlotte teases. “I remember when I was sixteen, when I first went out with Keith I’d spend SO much time with his mum…” I watch Charlotte carefully as she talks about her teenage years and her early relationship with Keith, just in case her memories cause some sort of ‘trigger’ that sends her emotions on a downward spiral, but much to my relief, the smile remains on her face throughout the evening, even as we eventually head to bed just after 10pm. After I dilate, I smile as Stuart wraps his arms around my naked body and holds me close to him under the sheets, but I can’t help but worry about my BFF, alone in her bed for the umpteenth day in a row…

I wake up on Monday morning still wrapped in Stuart’s arms, and it takes nearly all of my willpower to unwrap myself and head into the shower, before pulling on a brand-new pair of soft pink tights and my trusty black tank leotard. I grin wickedly as I climb back onto my bed and rub my lycra-clad body against Stuart’s arms and his face, giggling as he sleepily moans with delight at the sensation of the soft fabric against his skin.

“Mmm…” Stuart sighs. “MUCH nicer when the tights are on someone else’s body…” I laugh as Stuart grabs my slender thigh and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“Get up babe,” I say, giving Stuart a quick kiss. “You’re driving!” Stuart smiles as he tiredly stretches his body en route to the shower, emerging a few minutes later and pulling on a plain grey shirt and a slouchy pair of jeans.

“Aren’t you a little old for ballet by now?” Stuart asks as we- accompanied by Charlotte- head down to his car. I stare at my BFF as Stuart asks his question, who simply nods approvingly.

“BOY!” We both shout, startling the sexy transman.

“You know I take that as a compliment, GIRLS!” Stuart retorts, making both myself and Charlotte giggle.

“It’s not really about the dancing,” I say. “Though being beautiful, elegant and graceful IS always fun! It’s really more about having something I can do with the girls, ALL the girls. It’s not really any different from your games nights…”

“Yeah, but on our games nights, we don’t wear special costumes or do our hair…” Stuart feebly argues.

“No, you just use £400 plastic boxes that have no other purpose,” Charlotte says. “There’s really no difference between spending £40 on a pair of pointe shoes and spending £40 on a videogame…”

“Yeah, but pointe shoes wear out,” Stuart says.

“As does your interest in the games you play!” I retort, making Stuart sigh.

“I’m not winning this one am I?” Stuart says, and Charlotte and I both grin widely as we shake our heads. “Fine… You’re all gorgeous, elegant, graceful ballerinas and always will be, regardless of age.”

“Better,” Charlotte says. “Can’t wait to get back into my pointes… Hope I haven’t got too rusty whilst I’m growing this little one!”

“You know Krys will give you extra refresher lessons,” I say, giving my BFF a hug as she gets on the back seat of Stuart’s car. “You saw how quickly Mary caught back up after having Kristina-Leigh, right?”

“Yeah, but Mary was always gorgeous and elegant,” Charlotte sighs.

“So were you!” I say. “You must’ve watched the black swan party performance we did a hundred times, you blew everyone away!”

“Hell, you blew ME away and I’m a blockheaded BOY!” Stuart jokes, making Charlotte giggle happily, much to my relief. Charlotte’s smile remains on her face as we arrive at the dance studio to be greeted by all the other ballerinas in our private lesson. After tying mine & Nikki’s buns, Krystie gets the lesson started. After our initial stretches, the twelve of us (including Krystie) pull our pointe shoes on and start practising pas de deux. Much to my surprise, I find myself working with Dannii- Nikki & Sarah’s friend- which is a unique experience as she’s as almost as tall in stocking feet as I am en pointe! After ninety minutes of dancing that leaves my dancewear stained with sweat but my body almost literally glowing with energy.

“Hey Snikki!” I say happily to my protégé and her girlfriend, who cringe at the use of the portmanteau as they remove their pointe shoes. “Got anything planned for the rest of the day?”

“No, only being driven to college by my sexy ballerina girlfriend!” Sarah giggles, wrapping her arms around Nikki as she tries to put her dress back on.

“And after you’ve done the driving?” I ask Nikki, who simply shrugs and giggles.

“Good,” I giggle. “You can drive me and Charlotte home!”

“Oh, what?” Nikki moans. “I’m claiming the petrol expenses, you know…”

“For four miles?” I laugh. “Still cheaper than a cab!”

“Why can’t Stuart drive you home?” Nikki asks.

“He’s off to his studio,” I explain as Charlotte and I jump into Nikki’s car before she can complain further. “Now come on, before Becca and Addie pester me about the auditions!” With a tired giggle, Nikki gets into her car and, after dropping Sarah off at college, drives both myself and Charlotte home.

“Okay,” Nikki says as she switches off her engine. “As you invited yourself into my car, I’m inviting MYSELF in for a coffee!”

“Sounds fair,” Charlotte giggles, getting out of the small car with mine & Nikki’s help. “Come on, you can lift better than that! I know there are precisely ZERO strong men on this driveway, but still…” Nikki and I both giggle- it may have been an unusual compliment that Charlotte paid us, but that’s obviously how it was intended to be taken, and it’s hardly the first time Charlotte’s complimented either myself or Nikki in this manner.

“So what’s up with you and Dannii?” I ask Nikki. “Any particular reason I was stuck with the giggly blonde giant today?”

“Ugh,” Nikki sighs. “Long story…”

Nikki sticks around for the rest of the morning, chatting with myself and Charlotte (and recording a brief video clip for her vlog) before heading to Sarah’s college for lunch, leaving me alone with my BFF for the rest of the day.

“Did Nikki and Dannii’s story remind you of anything?” Charlotte asks sadly as she cooks us a small lunch. “One girl acting selfishly, getting herself ostracised from the rest of the group, needing to earn forgiveness…”

“How could it not?” I sigh, giving my BFF a tight hug. “You might not want to hear this… But it kinda reminds me of Keith as well.” Charlotte pauses briefly as I mention the name of her former lover, before resuming her cooking.

“Difference is that Keith ostracised himself on purpose,” Charlotte says coldly. “He’s welcome back any time he wants, and not just with the boys…”

“Have you spoken to him recently?” I ask, but Charlotte simply shakes her head.

“I send him the occasional email, but he doesn’t respond,” Charlotte sighs. “He hasn’t even re-added me on Facebook…”

“He can’t ignore you forever,” I say. “He’s the father of your child, he has a responsibility.”

“He’s already agreed to pay me maintenance every month,” Charlotte says.

“There’s more to being a parent than just writing a cheque!” I say, my frustration growing at Charlotte’s lackadaisical attitude toward the father of her child. “He hasn’t even set foot in the nursery yet…”

“Ah, lucky that I’ve got you and several handsome strong men, aren’t I?” Charlotte says, perking up. “Speaking of, Krystie & Mikey will be dropping round later tonight.”

“Thanks for the warning,” I giggle. “I’ll get changed out of my ballet gear before she makes me dance the entire Nutcracker, then!” After lunch, I change out of my dance gear into a pair of black tights and a long black skirt with a VERY high slit up one side before heading downstairs to help Charlotte browse the internet for baby gear. Ever since Joshua agreed to buy her house, Charlotte’s financial situation has improved dramatically- she’s no longer a millionaire, but not in danger of going bankrupt, and whilst she can’t afford to throw a costume party at the drop of a hat (I shelled out for Nikki’s party last week) she’s more than able to spend a few quid on baby toys.

“Hey, mother and godmother to be!” Krystie squeaks as she arrives at our house after dinner, greeting both myself and Charlotte with tight hugs.

“Hi Charlotte, Hi Jamie,” Mikey- Krystie’s boyfriend- says. “Found something you lost.” I laugh as Stuart steps out from behind Mikey and greets me with a long kiss.

“Oh stop it!” Krystie chastises, making both myself and Stuart giggle into each other’s mouths. “And why did you change out of your dance gear?”

“A better question would be why HAVEN’T you?” I laugh, pointing at Krystie’s long, baby pink legs.

“Tights and leotards are really comfy!” Krystie giggles. “Besides, gives Mikey more to ‘unwrap’. He’s always, you know, ‘better’ if I make him work for it!” I roll my eyes as Mikey grabs a generous handful of Krystie’s right buttock through her short, loose skirt. Before long, the five of us are crashed out on Charlotte’s sofas, relaxing after a long day.

“No cameras tonight?” Mikey asks, earning a playful whack from his girlfriend.

“I knew you only loved me for my media profile,” Krystie teases, snuggling into Mikey’s chest.

“How long have you two been going out, two months?” Charlotte laughs. “Already living in each other’s pants…” Not to be outdone, I slip a hand into Stuart’s jeans pocket and snuggle into his chest, giggling as Stuart wraps an arm around me.

“Guys, I think Charlotte’s feeling a little left out,” Krystie says- though Charlotte actually looks happier than she normally does when confronted with the blatant displays of affection the four of us are doing. Nevertheless, Mikey and Stuart unwrap themselves from around Krystie and myself and plop down either side of Charlotte, peppering her with hugs and kisses.

“Affection’s good,” Charlotte giggles. “Helping me put together the baby’s wardrobe would be better!” The boys both sigh and laugh as Charlotte leads them upstairs to where her Ikea-bought wardrobe lays in pieces in the work-in-progress nursery. Even though he’s been taking testosterone for almost nine years and has a decent amount of muscles, Stuart still has the bone structure of a woman and is still only 5’ 7”- a full eight inches shorter than Mikey- so it’s Krystie’s boyfriend who does the majority of the heavy lifting whilst Stuart tackles the more fiddly bits. In less than an hour, the wardrobe is assembled, and Charlotte’s already started moving tiny baby clothes into it.

“Why does the kid need such a big wardrobe?” Stuart laughs. “He’s going to be a boy, isn’t he?”

“BOY!” Krystie, Charlotte and I all yell simultaneously at Stuart, who simply smiles smugly in response.

“Yeah, and you don’t outnumber us, isn’t that right, Keith junior?” Stuart says, crouching down beside Charlotte’s swollen belly.

“He’ll be on his mum’s side, like all boys should!” Charlotte scolds, giving Stuart a playful smack on the head and sending him scurrying back to my side.

“We should probably get an early night,” Stuart says, wrapping his arm around my waist again.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “Got meetings with Joshua all morning…”

“Same here,” Krystie sighs. “We’d better get going, babe…”

“Mikey, before you go, can you shift the wardrobe into place, please?” Charlotte asks as Stuart and I head back to my bedroom, and after I dilate, we jump into bed, almost immediately finding ourselves in each other’s arms…

The alarm clock on my phone wakes us up at 7:30am, and after taking turns in the shower (Stuart’s still a bit squeamish about showering together) I dress for the day, pulling on a sexy red bra and thong set and applying a full face of make-up, before brushing my hair out to its maximum volume and staring into my wardrobe for an outfit to wear.

“You look sexy in anything,” Stuart whispers, grabbing my bare buttock and giving me a kiss on my neck.

“It’s SOPHISTICATED I’m looking for today,” I inform my boyfriend, who dresses himself in a very smart suit, complete with a perfectly-knotted necktie. After a few more minutes’ deliberation, I pick out a slinky dress in a light grey. The dress is sleeveless, knee-length and very form-fitting, showing off my feminine curves perfectly. I initially pair the dress with a pair of light black hold-ups, before a wicked smile creeps across my face and I swap the stockings for a pair of light, metallic pink tights.

“So much for ‘sophisticated’,” Stuart teases as I lower the skirt of the dress over my brightly-coloured legs.

“I’ll wear black shoes then,” I say, sticking my tongue out at the sexy man as I attach a pair of 4” stiletto pumps to my feet, fastening the thin ankle straps before touching up my nail polish and lightly spritzing myself with some new perfume.

“SEXY WOMAN,” Stuart says, taking me in his arms and dipping me backwards as he plants a long, deep kiss on my scarlet lips.

“Don’t mess up my lipstick!” I chastise the man as he wraps his arms around my waist, preventing me from reaching my make-up table. After eventually fixing my make-up and grabbing my handbag, Stuart and I head down to his car, encountering Krystie and Mikey arriving in his car.

“LOVE that dress!” Krystie giggles, greeting myself and Stuart with big hugs.

“LOVE your suit!” I gush as Krystie does a twirl in her extra-short pink skirt suit. “Think I’ve got one like that myself, what make is it?”

“Bespoke, naturally,” Krystie boasts. “I’ll give you the tailors address later. More importantly, where DID you get those tights?”

“The internet, naturally,” I giggle.

“GIRLS!” Mikey and Stuart both yell, making Krystie and I double over in fits of giggles.

“GIRLS RULE!” Krystie and I retort as we get in Stuart’s car, Krystie giving her boyfriend a long kiss as we depart. A confused look passes over my face as I stare into the car’s door mirror at the image of Krystie’s boyfriend disappearing into Charlotte’s house.

“What’s Mikey doing?” I ask the tall, pink-clad girl.

“Charlotte asked him if he could help out some more,” Krystie says nonchalantly. “He’s not got anything on until next week, I said he’d be happy to help out.”

“Hmm, okay,” I say, but deep inside I have a VERY strange feeling about the idea of Charlotte alone in her house with another woman’s boyfriend…

“Jamie!” Joshua greets me with a hug as I arrive at his vast office. “Stuart! Krystie! My superstar searching squad! Come on in!” The three of us smile happily as we follow Joshua up to his office, where we spend the next two hours discussing the numerous women who have auditioned, with Krystie offering her expert opinion on their dancing abilities, Stuart on their vocal skills and me on their overall ‘look’. By the end of the meeting, all four of us- even the usually permanently-excited Joshua- are exhausted and in desperate need of some lunch.

“You three go, get your energy back!” Joshua laughs, dismissing myself, Krystie and Stuart. “And give my love to Michael Dawson!”

“I think he’s still recovering from the last time!” Krystie jokes, making Joshua bellow his trademark booming laugh before heading back into his office.

“Where do you want to go for lunch?” Krystie asks.

“Umm, aren’t we going to head home?” I ask, confused as to how Krystie could be so blasé about her boyfriend being alone with another woman- especially a woman with as much ‘form’ as Charlotte.

“There’s a new Turkish place that just opened, it’s about a mile from here,” Krystie says. “REALLY want to check it out.”

“Turkish? Really?” I ask as we get into Stuart’s car.

“It’s one of very few nationalities that don’t VIOLENTLY disagree with me,” Krystie laughs. “Stu, I’ll give you the post code.”

“Umm, okay, I guess,” I say, still unsure how Krystie can trust Charlotte so implicitly. If it were Stuart in Mikey’s position… he may not be Charlotte’s ‘type’ but she has been single for a long time…

After lunch, Stuart drops Krystie at her dance studio before driving the two of us back to Charlotte’s house to find her deep in a gossip session with Mary (and, technically, Kristina-Leigh).

“Hey, super cute god-daughter!” I say to the giggling infant, who laughs happily in my face.

“Hey, super super cute god-daughter!” Stuart says in a soft, almost feminine voice I’ve only heard him use on very rare occasions.

“There you go,” Mary says, handing the happy infant to her godfather, who gently rocks her in his arms. “I would say ‘be careful’ but sure you’ve cuddled her enough to know that already!”

“For someone who insists that he’s a tough, butch guy, Stuart really is very, very good with babies!” Charlotte teases, but my boyfriend simply keeps grinning.

“Maybe it’s just hard-wired, something hormones can’t overwrite,” Stuart laughs, before giving Kristina-Leigh a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Nah, it’s not genetic,” I say, taking the tiny infant from Stuart and gently cuddling her as she giggles contentedly. “You’re just a big softy when it comes to babies, that’s all!”

“You’re going to be a great father one day,” Charlotte says.

“Kind of missing a few ‘important parts’ you need to be a father,” Stuart sighs sadly as I hand Kristina-Leigh back to him. “Has Mikey gone?”

“Yeah, he just stuck around to shift a few things around,” Charlotte says, setting off yet more alarm bells in my head. “Is he getting on well with the other boys?”

“Yep,” Stuart says happily. “Not as well as he’s getting on with Krys, obviously!”

“And how’s this band of yours coming along?” Mary asks, taking Kristina-Leigh back from my arms.

“It’s getting there,” Stuart says. “It’s been in the works for ages now, no sense in rushing it…” I can’t help but smile as the gossip session shifts into full gear, with Stuart looking at home chatting with us as any of us girls- though as the discussion is mostly about work- HIS work- that is to be expected. Mary and Kristina-Leigh leave after a while, leaving the three of us alone on our sofas. Stuart and I eventually opt for an early night, but as I head to bed, I can’t help but overhear Charlotte talking on the phone to Krystie- and asking to speak to Mikey as well…

My alarm wakes me as always at 7:30am, but as I have the entire day free, I switch the alarm off and try to get back to sleep, only to be thwarted when Stuart unwraps his arms from my waist and pads to the shower.

“Where you going this early?” I moan.

“Golf with your dad,” Stuart laughs. “Forgotten already?”

“Ugh,” I sigh. “Have fun, babe.” As Stuart cleanses his body under the hot water, I roll over and quickly fall back asleep, only to be woken mere minutes later by Stuart giving be a goodbye kiss on the lips.

“Got anything exciting planned for today?” Stuart asks. “Well, as exciting as it gets without me around, anyway…”

“Funny man,” I laugh. “Nah, probably just catching up on my blog, my columns…”

“Cheeky,” Stuart says, earning himself a firm pat on the backside as he leaves. I get up myself about half an hour later after failing to get back to sleep, and after dilating and showering, I apply a light layer of make-up and pull on a comfortable long-sleeved navy blue bodysuit, nude tights and a cream longer than knee length pencil skirt. With my hair tied back into a tight ponytail and 4” stiletto heels on my feet, the look is sexier than it needs to be for a day in front of my laptop, but they’re my clothes, and I’m entitled to wear what I want, when I want.

“Morning, sexy!” Charlotte teases as I sit down at the breakfast table. “Just got my one and only coffee of the day brewing, fancy a cup?”

“Please,” I say, before taking a deep breath. “Charlotte… Yesterday, Mikey…”

“Yes?” Charlotte asks.

“What- what did he do?” I ask, barely disguising my concern.

“He put together a mobile for Keith junior,” Charlotte replies in a nonplussed voice. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh- nothing,” I say. “It’s just- he seems to be spending a lot of time here for someone not technically involved in the kid’s life, that’s all…”

“Well his two godfathers are both extremely busy most of the time,” Charlotte sighs. “Neither are really good at physical stuff, one due to age, one due to- well, you should know better than anyone.” I nod at Charlotte’s delicate phrasing of Stuart’s ‘condition’. “And god knows Keith junior’s ACTUAL father is nowhere to be seen…” I sigh- Charlotte is, of course, correct.

“And it’s not like Mikey minds,” Charlotte says. “Though he did cut his finger pretty badly putting together that mobile…”

“Isn’t he a session guitarist?” I ask. “Doesn’t he, you know, need his fingers in one piece to do that?”

“Yeah, though he said it’ll be healed before his next gig,” Charlotte says.

“Yeah, but still…” I argue. “It shouldn’t be on him to do all the work…”

“Jamie…” Charlotte says. “What- what are you planning? I know that look…”

An hour later, I find myself stood outside the same door I stood in front of on Boxing Day, when I made the decision that would change my life. The only difference is that today, it’s not MY life I’m hoping to change…

“Jamie?” Keith’s mother asks. “Keith’s not here, he’s at university…” His studies would explain SOME of his unavailability to look after the mother of his child, but it doesn’t explain why he’s been absent for a whole two months.

“That’s okay,” I say. “I can catch him by telephone.”

“That’s not a good idea,” Keith’s mother says. “I can let him know you stopped by, get him to call you when he’s ready. Is it about Charlotte?”

“It’s about his son,” I say in a tone that’s more aggressive than I was aiming for. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just- Ugh, I’m hardly in a position to criticise…”

“He isn’t being enough of a dad,” Mrs Hartley says in a sad voice.

“I didn’t want to be the one who said it,” I whisper.

“You have to understand,” Keith’s mother says, “Keith was DEVASTATED when Charlotte cheated on him, and ever since you- at Christmas- he really hasn’t been the same since.”

“Oh, I understand,” I say. “But it’s not about him, or me, or even Charlotte… It’s about his kid. Surely you’re looking forward to being grandparents, you and your husband?”

“More than anything,” Mrs Hartley says. “But first and foremost, we’re still parents… We have to look out for Keith first, above everything else.”

“Even above his own child?” I ask, but Mrs Hartley simply shakes her head in response.

“I’ll let him know you called,” Keith’s mother says, though I can tell from the tone of her voice that she really means ‘get lost’. I simply nod and get back in my car, ready to head home having accomplished nothing from my trip. As I pull into Charlotte’s driveway, I’m surprised by the presence of a dark blue Transit Van in front of the house, until I remember exactly who the car belongs to.

“Mikey?” I whisper to myself. “Oh god, Charlotte, what have you done…” After switching off my engine I hurry into the house, my heart sinking and my head racing when I hear loud banging noises coming from the top of the stairs. I take off my heels and run up the stairs in my stocking feet, quickly locating the source of the banging- the new nursery. Fearing the worst, I open the door… And discover Mikey assembling a chest of drawers, with Charlotte watching intently- and both are fully clothed.

“Hey Jay!” Charlotte giggles.

“Hey,” I say, slightly stunned by the sight- and my fears being completely groundless.

“Hi Jamie,” Mikey says.

“Hi,” I say. “Are you okay doing that with your finger?”

“He’s a damn sight better than you with your nails!” Charlotte giggles.

“Honestly, it’s fine,” Mikey says. “Actually I kinda enjoy it, always loved DIY, putting stuff together… Even built my own guitar once.”

“Stuart’s not exactly the handiest guy in the world,” I laugh as Mikey continues his work. “Think stringing a guitar is about his limit.”

“Oh, but he more than makes up for it in other ways,” Charlotte giggles. “Though I do wish I was able to name THREE godfathers for Keith junior…” Mikey laughs embarrassedly as he continues about his handiwork, eventually finishing half an hour later and receiving a well-earned round of applause from both myself and Charlotte.

“Marvellous!” Charlotte says, inspecting the new piece of furniture. “Come on downstairs, let me make you some coffee.”

“I’ve really got to get going in a bit,” Mikey says. “Got to pick Krystie up…”

“To bring her back here, I hope?” Charlotte asks.

“Of course,” Mikey laughs. “Best coffee bar in London!” Charlotte grins happily as Mikey heads off in his van.

“You thought I was having it off with him, didn’t you?” Charlotte asks, not even turning her head to look at me.

“Wha- how could you-“ I splutter, before sighing heavily. “Yes…”

“I doubt you were the only one,” Charlotte giggles. “Doubt Mikey would go for a 5’ 5” whale, though…”

“’Pregnancy’ doesn’t equal ‘whale’!” I argue, giving Charlotte a quick hug. “Three months after your kid’s born, you’ll be the sexiest of all us, once again.”

“Sexiest but still single,” Charlotte sighs. “I know my reputation, I know I’m going to have to earn trust again… May as well get on with that sooner rather than later!” I giggle with Charlotte as we head back inside and quickly descend into one of our old-fashioned one on one gossiping sessions. The session comes to an abrupt end when Stuart arrives just over an hour and a half later- though as this means I get to cuddle up to him on the sofa, I don’t mind too much! Mikey returns a short while afterward with Krystie clinging tightly to his back, and every time the couple engage in a public display of affection, I find myself glancing over at Charlotte to see if she is upset by it in any way- but she giggles happily with every single kiss or cuddle the two share.

“Keep that up and soon there’ll be THREE mothers in the Angels!” Charlotte teases as Krystie and Mikey cuddle each other yet again.

“No chance!” Krystie argues. “Besides, it’s Viks’s turn after you, then-“ Krystie abruptly pauses as she points over at me. “S-sorry Jamie, sometimes I forget…”

“Eh, whatever, I promise I’ll adopt before you give birth!” I tease, making Krystie giggle happily.

“Angels: The Next Generation!” Stuart quips, making everyone in the living room giggle happily. We spend the whole evening laughing and gossiping, before Krystie and Mikey depart just after 9pm. Before they go, however, Krystie takes me to one side to talk privately.

“You spotted what I did, didn’t you?” Krystie asks bluntly. I feign innocence at first, before realising that Krystie knows me far too well.

“Yes…” I sigh. “My question is: Why, exactly?”

“I really, really like Mikey,” Krystie sighs happily. “But I need to know that I can TRUST him. Charlotte, too… I figure if they were going to mess around, better to know that now rather than later when the relationship’s been going on a while and it’d hurt more…” I lean forward and give Krystie a big hug, realising that I’m guilty of the exact same behaviour she was testing Mikey for.

“You’ve got a keeper,” I giggle. “He really is working hard in the nursery… Make sure you get a ring put on it before too long!”

“One step at a time!” Krystie teases as she heads out to Mikey’s van. “And look who’s talking!” I giggle as I wave the happy couple off, before sighing happily as Stuart comes outside and wraps a strong arm around my waist.

“What was THAT about?” Stuart asks.

“Oh, nothing,” I say with a smile. “Come on, time for bed!”

“It’s only 9:30,” Stuart argues. “I’m not sleepy, neither of us have work tomorrow…” Stuart’s voice trails off as he realises exactly what I mean by ‘bed’.

Less than 30 minutes later, the two of us are laid in bed, our naked bodies glistening with a sweet-smelling sheen of sweat.

“I love you so much,” Stuart whispers in my ears as he wraps his arms around me. I take a deep breath, realising that I need to tell Stuart what I did earlier today.

“Stuart,” I say softly, “earlier today, I- I went to see Keith…” Stuart abruptly releases me from his cuddle, before taking two deep breaths of his own.

“I’m guessing when you say ‘see’ you just mean see and not, well, ‘see’,” Stuart says. “Like, as in, how much of him did you ‘see’?”

“I went round to bollock him for not helping more with the kid,” I explain. “And he wasn’t even there, anyway, I only spoke to his mum, who said he’d pass on a message and get him to call me.”

“…And has he?” Stuart asks, to which I sadly shake my head.

“Didn’t really expect him to,” I sigh. “But doesn’t it strike you as odd that you and Mikey are here every day helping out, but the child’s actual father is nowhere to be seen?”

“He’s probably still hurting from losing Charlotte,” Stuart sighs. “And losing you, for that matter… Still no excuse, though.”

“No, it isn’t,” I mutter.

“He’s lost me, too- well, more that I’ve lost him,” Stuart sighs. “You know how close we used to be, now I barely even see the guy, it’s like we were never friends to begin with…”

“That sucks,” I sigh. “I remember when I fell out with Charlotte, some days I’d have given anything for her to be my BFF again… And now she is, so there’s no reason you and Keith can’t make up!”

“Yeah, you and Charlotte didn’t fight over a girl, though,” Stuart says, before letting out a frustrated moan. “Ugh, by which I of course mean that you shouldn’t blame yourself for me and Keith being macho idiots-“

“Oh, believe me, I don’t!” I laugh, silencing Stuart with a kiss. “Get some sleep, SEXY macho idiot!” Stuart chuckles and wraps his arms around me again, and we’re both quickly asleep, waking the following morning at 7:30am feeling more contented than we’ve been in a long while.

“Come on,” Stuart urges as he unwraps himself from around me and heads into the shower. “Dilate, then shower, then dress quick, you’re not going to be late for another lesson!”

“Yes, MISTER Milton,” I say in a mock-schoolgirl voice. After dilating and showering, I dress in a comfortable black bra and thong set, followed by a short denim skirt, ribbed black tights and a warm sweater. I’m not planning on going anywhere today, so I tie my hair back into a very plain ponytail, but I (of course) apply a light layer of makeup.

“Right, get yourself seated,” Stuart orders, setting up a small stool in front of a keyboard he’d bought for me last month. After hearing Stuart play all his instruments, I explained that I’d always wanted to learn how to play the piano, and whilst Stuart’s not a teacher, he agreed to give me lessons- which consist of about 25% actual teaching and about 75% teasing or trying to get into my pants. And yes, most of the time I let him into my pants.

On this occasion, however, last night’s discussion of Keith has somewhat sapped Stuart’s libido, so my fingers remain firmly on the keyboard, as does his- and by the end of the lesson an hour later, I feel I’ve actually started to get the hang of the complicated instrument.

“You’re getting really good at this!” Stuart says proudly as he packs away the instrument. “Certainly better than I am at golf…”

“Oh yes,” I say happily. “How was the big boy’s day out, anyway?”

“Fun, albeit frustrating,” Stuart laughs. “Your dad’s practically semi-pro, whilst I seemed to end up in the sand on virtually every hole…”

“First time playing?” I ask.

“First time in a while,” Stuart says. “Your dad said he once took you out for a game, though?”

“Yeah, when I was fifteen,” I laugh at the memory. “Doubt I was any better than you were…”

“Yep, that’s what your dad said,” Stuart teases, making me playfully whack him with a pillow.

“I actually kinda wish I’d gone with you,” I confess. “I mean, you and dad are getting so close… I’m kinda jealous, you know? I mean, it sounds silly, he IS my dad and always will be…”

“No, I get it,” Stuart says. “You and he were never really father and son because you were never really his son… I reckon Mark’s trying to make up for that with me instead of you, and of course that wouldn’t work with my parents as they already have two other girls…”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “But it’d be nice to, you know, do some father-daughter things once in a while…” A brief pause fills the room as neither of us know how to respond to what I’d just said.

“So, we’ve got the whole day free…” Stuart says to end the pause. “I could always teach you the guitar if you’d like?”

“One instrument at a time!” I giggle, before taking a deep breath. “Stu… Do you know what days Keith has free? As study days?” Stuart bristles at the mention of his former best friend, but answers anyway.

“Tuesdays and Thursdays,” Stuart says. “Why?”

“Today’s Thursday, so he’ll be at home,” I say. “I want… I want to try to talk to him again, to get him to step up.”

“I’m coming with you,” Stuart instantly says. “Hey, I’m the kid’s godparent too, we’ve got to provide a united front, I-“

“That’d be good,” I say. I of course know the REAL reason Stuart wants to come along as well, and I can’t say I blame him one bit. I want Stuart to trust me- though just like Krystie and Mikey, I know I have to earn that trust back again. After I apply a little more make-up and repair my nail polish, I head with Stuart down to his car. Charlotte has work today so left early with Nikki, so there’s no problem with leaving her on her own because, of course, she won’t be home alone.

We arrive at Keith’s house just over half an hour later to discover his car parked in his driveway. Taking a deep breath, I ring the doorbell, gulping as the man himself opens the door.

“What do you two want?” Keith asks with an air of anger in his voice.

“We just want to talk,” I say, softening my voice even more than usual in an attempt to calm Keith down.

“About what?” Keith asks.

“About your son,” I say, causing Keith’s defensive demeanour to all but vanish.

“There’s nothing more to be said,” Keith mumbles. “I said I’d support the child and I will. End of discussion.”

“The child needs his father!” I plead, but Keith simply shakes his head.

“I’m not fit to be a father,” Keith moans self-pityingly.

“Everyone who finds themselves in your position says that,” Stuart says softly. “You owe it to your son to at least TRY.”

“I can’t be in the same house as HER,” Keith moans. “It still hurts too much.”

“HER happens to be the mother of your child,” I argue. “You’ll have to interact with her sooner or later.” Much to my frustration, Keith simply shakes his head.

“It’s even worse with you two living there as well,” Keith sighs. “That entire house is a reminder of everything that’s been taken away from me.”

“You need to man up,” Stuart says bluntly, earning a truly foul stare from Keith.

“The hell do YOU know about ‘manning up’?” Keith snorts, earning himself an evil stare from my boyfriend.

“BOYS!” I shout in a much angrier voice than I usually use when I say that word. “Not the time, not the place!”

“Have you even been back to Charlotte’s since Christmas?” Stuart asks, and Keith simply shakes his head in response.

“Once the child is born, then I will,” Keith says. “If you’ve got me anything for my birthday tomorrow, don’t bother giving it to me.” Keith slams the door in our face before we have a chance to argue further. I ring the bell again and again, but neither Keith nor anyone else in the household answers it.

“Jamie,” Stuart says softly, leading me away from Keith’s house. “We should give him some time.”

“He’s had over six months,” I spit. “How much more time does he fucking well need?”

“Let’s- let’s just go home,” Stuart sighs as we get in his car and drive away. When we arrive home, my heart sinks when I find Charlotte in her living room, wrapping presents with ‘happy birthday’ written on them.

“Oh god, Charlie,” I sigh, sitting down next to my BFF. “Please tell me they’re not for Keith…”

“Know anyone else who has a birthday coming up soon?” Charlotte asks.

“Um, March 2nd…” Stuart says feebly, raising his hand before a stern stare from me convinces him to make himself scarce.

“I bought these ages ago,” Charlotte sighs, continuing her gift wrapping unabated. “Saved them especially for his 24th…”

“I got the additional wrapping paper you wanted,” Nikki calls from upstairs, raising my ire. After making sure Charlotte’s okay, I intercept my protégé before she can re-enter the living room.

“Why did you leave her by herself?” I hiss, barely containing my anger. “Moreover, why are you actually enabling this?”

“Um, uh,” Nikki splutters, almost dropping the tubes of wrapping paper in her arms. “She- she asked me to help- I’m sorry, I didn’t-“

“Oh- never mind, it’s not your fault,” I sigh. “I’m sorry Nikki, it’s just- Keith’s kinda a sore spot for her right now…”

“She was talking about him a lot on the drive to the studio,” Nikki sighs. “I didn’t want to say anything- hell, what is there I CAN say?”

“…Never mind,” I sigh, leading Nikki back into the living room where she hands the tubes over to Charlotte.

“How are you planning on getting these gifts to Keith?” I ask my BFF.

“Nikki’ll drop me round tomorrow,” Charlotte says, making me shoot another disapproving stare at my still-upset protégé.

“It’s not a good idea for you and Keith to see each other, not so soon,” I sigh.

“Well he’s obviously not going to come here to pick them up,” Charlotte sighs. “Got to get them to him somehow…”

“Charlie…” I say cautiously. “Me and Stuart… We just came from Keith’s, he told us specifically that he doesn’t want us to drop any presents round to him tomorrow. I’m sorry.” Charlotte pauses at the news, as though processing the information, before angrily stabbing her scissors into the expensive cushion beside her.

“How?” Charlotte snaps, before starting to sob. “How can he hate me THAT much?” Instinctively, I reach in to give Charlotte a big hug- even though she’s still holding her scissors.

“FUCKING MEN!” Charlotte wails. I the corner of my eyes, I see Stuart open his mouth to respond, but a quick shake of the head from me convinces him not to do so. I hold Charlotte in my arms for the next ten minutes as she cries herself out, eventually calming down enough to speak coherently.

“I mean,” Charlotte sniffs. “It’s not like I expect him to take me back or anything, but I thought we could at least be friends…”

“Testosterone makes people stupid,” Nikki says. Again I have to advise Stuart against interjecting, though the smile on his face tells me that under the circumstances, he doesn’t mind his adopted gender being run down.

“All men should be forced to see things from a woman’s perspective at least once in their lives,” Charlotte spits, before smiling a few seconds later as Stuart returns from the kitchen, handing her a small tub of ice cream. “See? It worked for Stuart, the only REAL man I know!”

“Taking that as a compliment!” Stuart giggles as he also hands myself and Nikki ice cream before sitting down with a tub of his own.

“I don’t know what I expected, really,” Charlotte sighs as the ice cream cools her temper. “It’s just- in the past I made such a fuss of him on his birthday, it just seems wrong that I now completely ignore it…”

“That’s a break-up for you,” I sigh, making Charlotte sadly rest her head on my shoulder.

“He should at least let me send him ONE present,” Charlotte sighs. “There’s something I got specially… Something I KNOW he’ll love.”

“We’ll drop it round to him,” Stuart immediately offers, making me stare at him quizzically. “What? We’re going through the audition tapes faster than expected, we’ll have plenty of time to spare tomorrow. Besides… I kinda got him a present too that I want to drop off.”

“You’d do that for me?” Charlotte asks.

“For you AND my godson,” Stuart says with a warm smile.

“I need to get going,” Nikki sighs. “Promised Sarah I’d pick her up from college… You sure you’ll be alright?”

“I’ll be fine, you go!” Charlotte giggles.

“Will you be okay tonight?” I ask cautiously. “Because we can always stay home tonight…”

“Absolutely,” Stuart concurs, sitting down next to me and gripping my hand supportively.

“Oh, you guys,” Charlotte says, tears of happiness forming in her eyes. “But you had a big date planned tonight…”

“We’ll re-plan it,” Stuart shrugs, and I nod in agreement.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, not for me…” Charlotte whispers emotionally.

“You’re not asking, we’re offering!” I giggle.

“We’re INSISTING,” Stuart laughs, making Charlotte weep openly.

“I don’t deserve friends as good as you,” Charlotte blubs, giving us both a tight hug. “You can’t cancel dates every time I’m feeling a little down, though… I’ll call Hannah, Dannii, anyone who’s free and single, we’ll have a onesie party. You enjoy your night out!” I look across to Stuart, who merely shrugs.

“Only if you’re one million per cent sure,” Stuart says.

“Already texting the twin towers,” Charlotte giggles, using her own pet nickname for the 5’ 9” Hannah and the 5’ 11.5” Dannii. “Consider yourself off the hook, if- and ONLY if- you let me help you get ready for your date!”

“Deal!” I giggle happily as Stuart and I return Charlotte’s earlier hug. A short while later, I find myself sat in front of Charlotte’s dresser, having changed from my comfortable underwear into a sexy midnight blue lacy bra and thong set with a matching suspender belt, attached to which are two sheer seamed stockings.

“God, this brings back memories,” Charlotte giggles. “The very first days you used to live here, I’d do your hair and make-up… Is it- is it bad that I- oh god, I can’t believe I’m actually thinking this- is it bad that I kinda want Keith junior… To grow up like you?” I pause as Charlotte asks me this obviously personal question.

“Only if it’s what he truly wants,” I say. “Then again, I didn’t know that this was what I wanted until I was nineteen…”

“I’m not going to hide it from him,” Charlotte says as she treats my long blonde hair with strong-smelling hairspray. “Who you really are, who Stuart or Nikki really are or any other transgendered friends we make in the future. He’s going to grow up knowing that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to be the opposite gender.” I grin at Charlotte’s compliment, but deep down, I know what her TRUE concern is.

“Just because you’re a gorgeous girly girl,” I say, “it doesn’t mean that you’d have less to teach a boy.”

“Yeah…” Charlotte sighs. “But I’m never going to be sat in front of a mirror doing my daughter’s hair, am I?”

“Yes you are!” I insist. “Just because your first child is a boy, doesn’t mean your second will be! And before you say anything, yes you WILL find a partner, you WILL have a full family in the future. You’re one of the most beautiful and amazing women in the whole world. I guarantee it.”

“I guess,” Charlotte sighs. “I could always settle for being godmother to yours & Stuart’s daughter, if you choose to adopt…”

“If we ever get that far,” I laugh.

“Says the woman getting tarted up to extreme levels for a date with him!” Charlotte teases. “Seriously Jay, you HAVE to keep hold of him. Don’t- don’t make the same mistake I did…”

“Never,” I whisper. “If anything… The way Keith’s acting, it just proves to me that I made the right choice. And the sex isn’t THAT bad once you get used to it- Stuart certainly knows what he’s doing ‘down there’!” Charlotte and I share a naughty giggle as I pull on my dress, a short, tight dress in a nearly black shade of blue with a thin straps and a very low cut décolletage. After slipping my feet into a pair of 4” heeled stilettos, repainting my nails to match the dress and grabbing my handbag, I do a twirl for Charlotte, who wolf whistles approvingly.

“Attention London!” Charlotte giggles. “The personification of sex is here, and her name is Jamie-Lee Burke!” I giggle excitedly as I step out onto the landing and come face to face with Stuart, who looks DAMNED sexy in his black trousers and pristine white shirt- though the illusion of cool sexiness fails slightly when his jaw drops open as his eyes slowly pan up my body, drinking in every millimetre of my image.

“Let me get that for you,” I say, walking over to my boyfriend and gently closing his mouth, before giving that same body part a long kiss.

“You look amazing,” Stuart whispers. “I mean, you always do, but-“ I giggle and silence Stuart with yet another kiss, before looking back at Charlotte, who simply nods approvingly.

“We won’t stay out late,” Stuart says to my BFF, who giggles as we walk down the stairs, hand-in-hand, greeting the arriving Hannah & Dannii on our way out.

“Hubba hubba!” Dannii and Hannah simultaneously coo as we get into Stuart’s car.

“Thank you, ladies!” Stuart teases, before we drive away to the posh restaurant we’ve booked for the night. As per usual, we eat quickly and skip dessert, heading straight home after the meal where we quietly- so as not to disturb Charlotte, Hannah or Dannii- head up to my bedroom, where our clothes swiftly find their way to the floor as Stuart and I collapse back on my bed, our bodies entwined in a passionate embrace…

An hour later, the two of us are laid back in bed, our bodies completely drained from our ‘exertions’.

“I love you so much,” Stuart says, wrapping his arms around my waist and burying his face in my neck.

“I love you too,” I sigh, happily relaxing into Stuart’s cuddle. “Stu… Have you really got a gift for Keith?”

“…No,” Stuart confesses. “I got him a card. Guess I could always post that…”

“Why did you tell Charlotte that you had a present, then?” I ask.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Stuart asks me.

“…Blindingly obvious,” I sigh. “She still loves him, and he obviously still lover her…”

“He’ll never admit it, of course,” Stuart sighs. “He was always the alpha male, now he’s the alpha male without an alpha female…”

“We can go over this tomorrow,” I sigh, rolling over into a comfortable sleeping position. “With HIM. Get some sleep, babe.”

“Night, gorgeous,” Stuart says, settling down with his arms still wrapped around me.” When I wake up the following morning, I’m momentarily confused to find myself alone under the sheets, though my confusion disappears when I hear my boyfriend’s deep, sexy voice coming from the end of the bed.

“Yes mum,” Stuart sighs into the phone. “I know it’s been a while since I’ve been back home… No, I’ve not permanently moved out… Charlotte’s just been feeling a bit low, Jamie and I need to help her out… I don’t recall you giving Emma this hard a time when she moved out… No, as I said, I’m NOT moving out…” I giggle happily as Stuart continues arguing with his mother, crawling along the bed and encircling his naked body from behind.

“I’ve got to go now,” Stuart chuckles into his phone. “Yes, yes she is. See you later mum. Love to you, dad and Becca.”

“Aww,” I coo as I cuddle Stuart close to me. “Momma’s BOY!”

“Heh,” Stuart sighs. “Guess I’m going to have to sleep there tonight just to get her off my back- eh, pun not intended considering where you currently are!”

“Hehe,” I giggle as I press myself harder into Stuart’s narrow back.

“You’ll be on one of your girls’ nights outs anyway,” Stuart reasons. “Want me to shower first whilst you dilate?”

“Please,” I say, taking the thick orange tube from my nightstand drawer. After I dilate and shower, I pull on a comfortable, sleeveless thong bodysuit, followed by a pair of black tights and a short, long sleeved purple dress. I slip my feet into ankle booties with a 2.5 inch heel- just enough to put me level with Stuart’s height- before grabbing my bag and heading downstairs, hand in hand with the man I love (who is of course just wearing a pair of comfortable jeans and a dark blue sweatshirt).

“Morning!” Charlotte greets us with a tired smile. “Coffee’s already on the go.”

“Do I smell bacon?” Stuart asks, his eyes lighting up as he sits down.

“Yes,” Charlotte chuckles, patting her belly. “This little one needs his protein…”

“Here I was thinking all supermodels were devout vegans,” Stuart laughs.

“Not really practical for two reasons,” Charlotte giggles. “One, as I said, this little one needs his protein, and two… I love eating meat!”

“Cheeky,” I retort, earning a playful shove from the mother-to-be. After finishing breakfast, Stuart and I watch TV with Charlotte for an hour before Mary arrives with Kristina-Leigh, which we take as our cue to leave (but not before we both demand a cuddle from our goddaughter!). Charlotte waves us off as we drive away- fully aware of precisely where we’re going, and why.

My hand actually shakes as I ring the doorbell of Keith’s vast house, and I take a deep breath when the birthday boy himself answers.

“Happy birthday, Keith,” I whisper to the tall man, who simply shakes his head- and from his facial expression, I can tell he hasn’t had a very happy birthday so far.

“I told you both to stay away,” Keith moans, readying himself to slam the door in our faces.

“Wait!” I say, holding the door open. “You said you didn’t want any presents from us or from Charlotte-“

“-And I still don’t!” Keith snaps.

“BUT!” I snap. “You need to understand that you’ve been given the greatest gift of all. A gift Stuart and I can never have- admittedly by choice, but still…” I hand Keith a small, carefully wrapped parcel, forcing it into his hands when he tries to refuse it. Keith cautiously unwraps the package to find a small, plastic model of a foetus inside- the same gift I’d given Charlotte for Christmas, only larger.

“That’s your son, mate,” Stuart whispers. “It’s a 3D printed representation of Charlotte’s last scan.” Keith’s jaw drops as he cradles the tiny model in his hands.

“I, um,” Keith stutters, clearly overwhelmed by emotion. “I think you should go…” Stuart and I silently nod as we leave Keith and his ‘son’ standing on his doorstep, gobsmacked by the gift he’s been given.

“Do you reckon he’ll be okay?” I muse as Stuart drives us back to Charlotte’s house.

“He’s not a kid,” Stuart says bluntly. “He’s got a responsibility now, to HIS kid. Hopefully this’ll shake him out of whatever funk he was in.”

“Hope so…” I sigh. Before long, we arrive back at Charlotte’s house, interrupting Charlotte & Mary’s gossip session to demand yet more cuddles from our goddaughter, before Stuart gets out his laptop out and we finish reviewing the last of the audition tapes from last week, with Mary and Charlotte offering ‘advice’.

“Ooh, she’s pretty,” Mary coos at the video of a flame-haired Scottish girl singing ‘Say What You Want’ by Texas.

“I really like her jeans,” Charlotte concurs.

“Baahhhh,” Kristina-Leigh laughs happily at the video.

“No offence, ladies,” Stuart giggles. “But I think Kristina-Leigh had the most productive comment there!” I can’t help but laugh as Charlotte and Mary both grab cushions from the sofa and hurl them at Stuart. We don’t finish our ‘review’ of the videos until well after 7pm, by which point Mary’s gone home with her husband and the three of us have all eaten dinner.

“I’d better get going,” Stuart says, standing up and giving me a kiss. “Enjoy your night out babe, enjoy your night in with the teenagers, Charlotte!”

“See you Stu,” Charlotte sighs as my boyfriend departs. “I’ll say again: KEEP. HOLD. OF. HIM. With your teeth if need be!”

“Believe me, I intend to!” I giggle. “What time are Nikki and Sarah getting here?”

“My ‘babysitters’?” Charlotte snorts. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do Jamie, but really, you CAN leave me alone in the house and I’ll still be in one piece when you get back…”

“I know, I know,” I sigh. “It’s just- you have to admit, you are kinda, you know, ‘delicate’…” I wince as Charlotte shoots a withering gaze at me.

“’Delicate’?” Charlotte asks. “Really?”

“I’m sure it’s just the pregnancy hormones,” I say, Charlotte preparing to retort when a bleep from her phone distracts her.

“It’s from Nikki,” Charlotte sighs. “Sarah’s sick so they won’t be able to come round…” I sigh- I’d been looking forward to a night out tonight, but some things are more important, and my BFF is DEINITELY one of those things.

“Netflix night it is, then!” I say happily, parking myself next to Charlotte on the sofa.

“NO.” Charlotte says firmly. “You are NOT giving up your night out on my behalf!”

“There’ll be one next week,” I shrug. “Unless, of course, you want to come with me…”

“Oh, no no,” Charlotte chuckles. “Going to be AGES before I can squeeze my feet into a pair of heels again…”

“Then girls night in it is!” I say excitedly. “Besides, you ‘let me out’ for my date last night, and I HAVE got work tomorrow…”

“Only if you’re ABSOLUTELY sure,” Charlotte says.

“What are BFFs for?” I shrug, making Charlotte lean into me, giving me a long, tight hug. We spend the rest of the night on the sofa before heading to bed just after 10:30pm- where I stay awake for at least an hour texting with Stuart! I can’t help but smile contentedly when Stuart says that he’d have come back round immediately to keep me and Charlotte company if he’d known that I wasn’t going out, regardless of how much trouble it’d have got him in with his mother.

My mobile wakes me just after 7:30am on Saturday morning, and immediately as I click off the alarm, I send another text to the transman who I wish was laid next to me in bed right now. After showering and dilating, I select my outfit for the day. For the first time in what feels like ages, I’m going to be doing some actual modelling today, for a high-end online fashion store. It’s certainly a boost to the ego that they paid additional money to the studio (and to me!) to have me work on a Saturday rather than hire another model, so I don’t intend to make a bad impression. After pulling on a plain black bra and thong set and a pair of sheer black tights, I fix my make-up for the day- a full, sophisticated look with light gold eye shadow and deep red lipstick- before pulling on a tight, royal blue top and a flare black miniskirt. I finish my look with my favourite earrings and the necklace Charlotte got me for Christmas, before slipping my feet into a pair of 4” heeled stilettos, grabbing my favourite handbag and heading downstairs, where Charlotte and Nikki are both waiting for me, and both looking girly and gorgeous as well.

“She’s a model and she’s looking HOT!” Charlotte giggles, giving me a quick hug.

“Aren’t I?” I ask smugly, doing a quick twirl for my best friends. “You sure you’ll be alr-“

“Just go!” Charlotte laughs, practically shoving myself and Nikki out the door and into the teenager’s car. Nikki and I both giggle happily as she drives us into the centre of London.

“Hate driving on Saturday mornings,” Nikki moans as we slowly make our way through the busy London traffic.

“You’re doing great,” I say to my protégé, before taking a deep breath. “Nikki… I’m sorry I kinda snapped at you on Thursday…”

“Nah, you’re right,” Nikki sighs. “It’s just- Charlotte’s kinda hard to say ‘no’ to, and not just because she’s my employer…”

“Believe me, I know what you mean!” I laugh. “How’s Sarah? I heard she was unwell…”

“Yeah, she always seems to get sick this time of year,” Nikki sighs. “Heading straight back there after we’re done, so I’ll have to miss the girls’ night tonight, sorry about that…”

“Oh, don’t worry about it at all,” I say. “Some things are more important than gossip!”

“I don’t want to know what those alleged thing are!” Nikki says, making us both giggle girlishly.

“God, now I feel bad about keeping you away from her,” I sigh.

“Oh don’t be, I need the money!” Nikki giggles. “We both feel really bad about letting you and Charlotte down yesterday…”

“You hardly ‘let us down’, especially not Sarah if she’s sick!” I say reassuringly. “Besides, I kinda enjoyed having a night in with Charlotte, was just like the old days…”

“Yeah, but we cost you a girls night out,” Nikki sighs. “Got woken up at 1am again by Katie texting us photos…”

“So glad I leave my phone on silent overnight!” I giggle. “But I really like your friends, even if they are a little eager to please at time!”

“I’m glad,” Nikki says. “Almost here…” Within minutes, as my protégé predicted, we arrive at the studio where I’ll be plying my trade today. After Nikki escorts me to the dressing room that has been specially prepared to meet my needs, with Colombian coffee, my favourite brand of bottled water and chocolate covered Rich Tea biscuits, I inspect the fashionable dresses, skirts, tops and swimsuits I’ll be wearing today. As always, the company is allowing me to help myself to a handful of items to take home- and I already know what I intend to take!

The photoshoot lasts almost three hours, at the end of which I get back into Nikki’s car carrying a healthy clutch of clothes. It’s become a sort-of tradition amongst the Angels that every time we do a fashion photoshoot, we turn over an item of clothing to Nikki- Nikki herself is almost the same size as Krystie or Hannah, whilst Sarah is almost the same size as myself or Charlotte- so I separate out a sexy blue-gold swimsuit as a gift for Sarah.

Nikki drops me home shortly afterwards, before driving herself back to her sick girlfriend. After waving goodbye to my protégé, I head back into my home to be greeted by the beautiful sounds of a baby’s laughter.

“Started girls’ night in without me?” I ask as Mary hands me Kristina-Leigh for a quick cuddle.

“More like ‘girls’ afternoon’!” Mary giggles. “Actually got an invite to a product launch tonight, think Krystie did too… Not as fun without all six of us there!”

“Where was my invite, I wonder?” I ask, mock-offended, as I hand the wriggling infant back to her mother.

“Think these big companies need to learn that it’s either six of us or none of us!” Charlotte laughs, rubbing her expanding belly. “Well, SEVEN of us!” The four of us- Kristina-Leigh included- giggle loudly as the living room quickly descends into gossip about babies, families, boys and parties. Krystie arrives shortly afterwards, followed by Hannah, Viks, Becca, Adeola, Katie and Lauren, and by7:30pm (after Mary’s husband has taken Kristina-Leigh home), Charlotte’s main room- which the ten of us decamped to- is pulsing with excited energy, definitely helped by the presence of TV cameras recording our girls night for season 2 of our reality show.

“You ARE allowed to be in front of the cameras, right?” I ask the still-seventeen year old Lauren, who simply rolls her eyes and laughs.

“Yes,” the short, dark-haired girl giggles. “God, feel like I’m back at school, having to get permission slips from my parents…”

“Thank god I don’t need one anymore,” Katie giggles, giving her BFF a quick hug. “God knows my parents would NEVER have approved of this…”

“Well just stay away from the booze until you actually turn eighteen!” I giggle, before sighing as Stuart’s younger sister and her dark-skinned BFF make a beeline straight towards me.

“So tell us!” Becca demands.

“Yeah, you have to have SOME idea, right?” Adeola insists.

“You’ll see for yourself at the second auditions next week!” I laugh. “You’ve waited long enough for this band, you can wait a little longer, right?”

“Can’t you at least say how many second auditionees there are?” Adeola asks. “Are they pretty? Are they talented?”

“Wouldn’t have invited them back for a second audition if they weren’t!” I giggle. “I think Krystie’s got a list of names on her phone if you’re really interested…” I grin evilly as the two young women leave me without another word, immediately seeking out Krystie and subjecting her to the same level of interrogation. Seeking some respite from the constant interruptions- and the cameras- I head into the kitchen, where I find Charlotte reaching into a cupboard for some wine glasses.

“God’s sake, Charlie!” I sigh, getting the glassware out of the cupboard for the heavily pregnant woman.

“God’s sake, Jamie!” Charlotte mirrors. “I can get a bloody glass out of a cupboard…”

“Yes, but I can do it faster and won’t coil my back up like a snake doing so!” I laugh, making my BFF giggle.

“Jamie…” Charlotte whispers, her face falling. “You never did tell me how Keith took his gift. I’m assuming he accepted it, given that you didn’t bring it home…”

“He seemed almost shell-shocked,” I say. “It’s like, this was the first time he actually saw the baby AS a baby… Whilst it’s inside you, he can just see it as a lump in your belly rather than a person… Which could’ve been accomplished if he’d ever bothered to go to any scans with you too…”

“And it’s not like I didn’t ask him,” Charlotte sighs, placing the wine glasses on a tray. “Come on, best get back to the party before Becca and Addie steal ALL the camera time!” I giggle as I follow my BFF back into the party, laughing harder as I see Krystie- who, as predicted, is being aggressively questioned by Becca and Adeola- flick a sly middle finger in my direction. Within fifteen minutes, Charlotte has crashed on a sofa with Mary- inevitably discussing baby matters- whilst I’m deep in a gossip session with Hannah and Viks about the latter girl’s upcoming wedding, when the doorbell suddenly rings, surprising everyone in the room.

“Did someone order pizza?” Charlotte asks. “I thought I’d laid on enough food for everyone?” I follow my BFF as she heads to the front door, and the two of us simultaneously gasp when she opens the door to reveal the smiling face of the father of her unborn child.

“Hi Charlotte,” Keith whispers nervously. “Hi Jamie… I thought wanted to thank you for my birthday present- it’s probably the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever been given. Um, thank you.” My heart flutters as Keith leans in and gives Charlotte a light kiss on her cheek. Even as recently as a few months ago, this action would have made me green with envy, but now I’m almost excited at seeing the two parents-to-be act in such a friendly manner toward each other.

“It was actually Jamie’s idea,” Charlotte confesses. “She got me something similar for Christmas…” Keith smiles, before approaching me and giving me a light kiss on my cheek that makes my heart beat faster. I’d forgotten how amazing the man smelled…

“Thanks,” Keith says. “I, um, I should go, I just wanted to say thanks…”

“Do you want to come in for a drink?” Charlotte asks. “I’ve opened a bottle of wine, obviously I’m not going to drink it.”

“Best not,” Keith laughs, miming a steering wheel.

“You can share my diet coke then!” Charlotte giggles, making her former lover smile and roll his eyes.

“I guess one glass won’t hurt,” Keith says. “Of the diet coke, I mean.” I smile as I follow my two friends into the main room, where the jaws of the other eight women simultaneously drop as they see Keith walk in side-by-side with Charlotte.

“Oh, Jamie,” Keith says. “My brother’s girlfriend asked me to ask you if she passed her first audition for the band.” I scream in mock-frustration as everyone has a laugh at my expense, but I really don’t mind- the sight of Keith back in this house, which was his home for a good amount of time, is almost like something out of a dream.

The camera crew depart shortly after 11pm, followed by the rest of the girls, but Keith sticks around, chatting with Charlotte in her living room even after I head to bed. I quickly fall asleep after dilating and sending a goodnight text message to Stuart, waking up the following morning just after 9am. After showering and applying a very light layer of make-up (not even bothering with any lipstick), I dress in a comfortable long-sleeved black bodysuit, a pair of thick black tights and a knee-length denim skirt, before heading downstairs to the kitchen- where I gasp with shock as I see Keith sat at the breakfast table, eating his bacon and eggs as though he’d lived here all his life.

“Hey Jay!” Charlotte squeaks happily. “LOVE the bodysuit! Coffee’s already brewed, help yourself to a cup!”

“Thanks,” I say, my face wrinkled with confusion. “Umm, Keith, did- did you-“

“Slept in my son’s room,” Keith says between mouthfuls of his breakfast. “Heh, that’s gonna take some getting used to, ‘my son’s room’…”

“Can I speak to you for a sec?” I say to my BFF, grabbing her by the arm and leading her into the relative privacy of the living room.

“What’s up?” Charlotte asks innocently.

“You- you do know that this isn’t the two of you getting back together, right?” I ask.

“Yes,” Charlotte sighs. “He made that VERY clear last night… But he also wants to actually be a dad, and I can’t deny him that, right? I mean, better late than never…”

“Just- just be careful, okay?” I say. “Don’t want to see you hurt again, especially in your current condition, and ESPECIALLY not after the kid’s born.”

“I’m not going to fling myself at him!” Charlotte laughs. “You worry too much…” I sigh and nod as Charlotte returns to the kitchen, where- despite her protests- she acts VERY familiarly with Keith. After breakfast, I head back upstairs and change my comparatively slouchy skirt and bodysuit for a more chic light blue dress, before applying a full face of make-up. Satisfied with my sexier look, I grab my phone and immediately dial the first number on my speed dial.

“Hey you!” I say to my boyfriend. “Hope I didn’t wake you…”

“Nah, I’ve been up a while,” Stuart says.

“And you DIDN’T text me?” I pout, making Stuart giggle.

“Sorry, sorry,” Stu laughs. “I’m just setting off now, I should be there in about 25 minutes.”

“Change of plans,” I say. “We’re going to my parents’ today rather than staying at home.”

“Okay,” Stu says. “I’ll wear an actual shirt, then…”

“Good boy,” I giggle. “See you in a bit!”

“See you,” Stuart says. “Love you!”

“Love you too!” I say. Less than half an hour later, as promised, Stuart pulls into our driveway, and I give him a long, deep, LONG kiss as I get into the passenger seat of his car.

“God, I missed you…” I sigh as we drive away.

“I missed you too,” Stuart says with an air of confusion in his voice. “Jamie, that car next to your Alfa… Was- was that-“

“Keith’s?” I ask. “Yep!”

“So does that- does that mean the gift actually worked?” Stuart asks.

“You sound surprised!” I tease.

“More like astonished,” Stuart laughs. “Are he and Charlotte…?”

“No,” I say firmly. “At least… Not for now. This time last week, they couldn’t even be in the same room as each other, now they’re having breakfast together…”

“Breakfast!?” Stuart shouts. “So he spent the night?”

“In the nursery,” I say. “That’s what Keith says, anyway.”

“Well- as long as they’re both happy,” Stuart sighs. We spend the rest of the day at my parents’ house- they’re obviously surprised, but pleased to see the two of us arrive, and listen intently as we fill them in on what’s been happening with our lives. After a large lunch and a (thankfully) light dinner, Stuart and I hop back in his car and head back to Charlotte’s house, where- much to the surprise of both of us- Keith’s car is still parked outside.

“Hello?” I ask as I open the front door. “Charlotte? Keith?”

“Upstairs!” Charlotte shouts. After exchanging a concerned glance with Stuart, the two of us head up the stairs, following the sound of hard work to its source in the nursery, where- as was the case with Mikey a few days earlier- Charlotte is supervising Keith as he hangs wallpaper (with a toy car theme) on one of the walls.

“Keith junior’s going to grow up to be the next Lewis Hamilton!” Keith boasts as he smoothes the wallpaper into place.

“O-kay,” I say, stepping over the decorating materials littering the floor. “Has he been here all day?”

“Yes ‘he’ has,” Keith laughs. “Alright mate?”

“Hi Keith,” Stuart says, taken aback by Keith’s sudden friendly attitude. “Um, d’you need a hand or anything?”

“Nah mate, just about done,” Keith says, and a couple of minutes later he steps back to admire his handiwork.

“Perfect,” Charlotte giggles, sighing happily as Keith gives her a quick hug. Keith departs a short while afterward, but as Charlotte bids him farewell, there’s a wide, happy smile on her face.

“Charlie,” I whisper. “Are- are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Charlotte asks.

“Umm, because you just spent a day with your ex, with whom you had a VERY messy break-up?” I retort.

“We talked through it,” Charlotte explains. “Obviously I assumed full responsibility for it- which believe me wasn’t easy- and we’ve both agreed to act like adults around each other for the sake of this little one. Fingers crossed, I think Keith’s actually looking forward to being a dad!”

“Only if you’re absolutely sure,” Stuart says, offering Charlotte a small pout of ice cream which she refuses.

“Trust me, I’ll be fine,” Charlotte says, rubbing her belly. “WE’LL be fine!” I giggle happily along with my BFF, but inside, I’m still worried- for all her protests, there has got to be a part of Charlotte’s mind that thinks she could still get back together with Keith. Hell, there’s a part of MY mind that thinks that, and as I relax in bed with Stuart- after a fairly lengthy love-making session- I can tell he’s uneasy as well.

“Do you REALLY think they’ll be fine?” I ask.

“Charlotte and Keith?” Stuart whispers as he gets his breath back. “Wish I could say. I dunno… I don’t think Keith would risk getting hurt again, then again I really don’t believe Charlotte would ever cheat again and risk the same…”

“I know she wouldn’t,” I say confidently. “This whole experience- losing Keith, becoming a mother… She’s changed, she’s matured. She’s going to be a great mother, and I really do believe he’ll be a great father, too.”

“They will,” Stuart says, giving me a tight hug. “Jamie- and stop me if you think this is a bit too soon, but…”

“Go on,” I say softly.

“…Have you ever thought about becoming a parent?” Stuart asks, and I sigh heavily.

“I’ve only just become a WOMAN,” I mumble. “Bit soon to be thinking about becoming a mother…”

“I know what you mean,” Stuart sighs. “But with Charlotte and Emma both expecting… I just, you know, I HAD the opportunity to know what that was like, to feel a life growing within me, and I gave it away… Probably the only thing I regret about transitioning, if I’m honest, but it IS still a regret…” I cuddle Stuart tight as he bares his soul to me in a very un-masculine way.

“Charlotte actually offered to pay for me to have some sperm frozen,” I confess. “I turned it down, figured I’d never need it… REALLY regretting that now.”

“Same here, dad offered to freeze some of my eggs, and I said no…” Stuart sighs. “Though of course, if we did conceive a child, we’d need somewhere to put it…” I giggle as Stuart rubs his sexy abdomen.

“Medical science needs to get a move on, and fast!” I laugh as I also rub Stuart’s belly. “Get some sleep, sexy!” Stuart chuckles as we share one more kiss, before quickly falling asleep, and I can’t help but feel that things are finally getting better, a feeling enhanced the following morning when I see Keith drive Charlotte home after our traditional morning ballet lesson. Keith junior may not have parents that love each other anymore, but I’m confident that he’ll have parents that adore HIM, and that’s all that matters.

And yet, Stuart’s words stick in my mind. When I began my transition, I voluntarily gave up the chance to sire children of my own, but as more and more of my friends- and, assuming you count Stuart’s older sister, family- fall pregnant, as the ‘Next Generation’ swells in numbers, I find myself increasingly envious of their new lives, their new families… I'm even envious of Stuart's increasingly-close relationship with my own family, even though I know that should make me happier than anything.

If I marry Stuart, I could always adopt, of course- and he’d be an AMAZING father, as he demonstrates all the time with Kristina-Leigh. Specialist hormones I could take mean I’d even get the opportunity to breast-feed, and I know my parents would take to grandparenthood like ducks to water, but it wouldn’t be the same, not really.

And it’s not like I haven’t got the rest of my life to become a mother- I am only 23 years old, Stuart’s only 24… There should be no rush, but the same could be said about my SRS, or rushing into a serious relationship with Stuart… Or even being a woman full stop. All of those things have made my life infinitely better- why should I settle for anything less?