Charlotte, Part 3 free porn video

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- Krystie 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 Krystie 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 Krystie 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!" Krystie 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 Krystie to infer how it went. "That bad, huh?" She asks. "Could've been worse," I concede, "at least he didn't fire me." Krystie 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," Krystie retorts reassuringly, "that was meant to be a congratulatory tort!" I smile gratefully as Krystie 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," Krystie replies. "Doesn't really help though." The difference between Krystie 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?" Krystie 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." Krystie 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 clich?." 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 Krystie 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. Krystie, 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 Krystie 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- Krystie 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 o