‘Didn’t you?’
Four sceptical faces peer back at me.
‘Does the bombshell usually have any say in what happens on this show?’ I argue, placing a hand on my hip. I refuse to be bullied. I came in here for… actually, I’m no longer sure what I came in here for, but I know it wasn’t to be heckled by these stunning, jelly-lipped, identikit girls with their all-over tans and superb hair and nail extensions.
‘Are you being funny right now?’ she tuts. ‘You can never tell with the British. Can you Mimi?’
‘No, Amber, honey. You can’t.’
Well, you can, I want to say but decide to keep quiet. I don’t want my second time on camera to be me being rude. I shake my head and smile. ‘I just meant…’
‘We know what you meant. You came in here to find love just like the rest of us and you’ll do anything to get it,’ says Mimi, quite the forceful blonde. ‘Including being savage.’
No, I definitely won’t. It’s not theHunger Games.
‘We’ve been told to get ready for a night of fireworks,’ says a petite Asian-looking girl, I recognise as Amber, leafing through a hanger full of outfits. ‘What’s everyone wearing? Glam? Semi-glam? Mimi, where you at hun?’
‘I’m going all out to catch my man’s attention,’ says Mimi. ‘He ain’t lookin’ no place else tonight!’
Phew. I’m already yesterday’s news.
The girls start pulling out seats, rummaging round in the wardrobes and flicking switches on hair straighteners, hair tongs and all manner of hair styling tools. Out come industrial-size make-up boxes, rolls of brushes and endless pots and pots of make-up. We have all jostled for seats at the central carousel in the dressing room to apply our ‘looks’ for tonight. The carousel was custom built for the show at a cost of twenty grand – Cam told me yesterday – so that we can all get round it and gossip, while the cameras can pick up everyone’s faces andvoices clearly. The mirrors and lights are professional standard and reveal every single flaw. I try not to flick my eyes to the camera hidden above in the Hello Gorgeous neon sign. It will be recording my every movement.
‘It must be so hard to be the bombshell,’ says Mimi, swishing a big fat brush over her face. ‘I’m glad I’m an original. Amber, can I borrow your blusher?’
‘Heck, yeah,’ Amber says, handing her a paint palette so big you could paint your whole house with it. ‘I’d hate to be the bombshell. Coming in, having to be all that.’
They are making me nervous. I’m not sure how they managed to bond this quick and take an active dislike to me but that’s how it feels. I’m getting distinct negative energy vibes from the lot of them.
‘All I had to do was walk six feet in a pool of mud and slide down to the firepit,’ I joke to ease the tension. ‘Nothing hard about that.’
They look at each other in disbelief. ‘We meant it must be so hard having to look better than the rest of us put together.’
How ridiculous.
‘I doubt I’ll manage that,’ I say, watching them all glam up. ‘I mean look at you all. You’re all gorgeous.’
Just saying the words reminds me of how I felt when Cam told me I was gorgeous. I melted inside like an ice-cream in the hot sun.
‘We are, babe,’ says Mimi, noticeably pleased at the compliment. ‘We so freakin are! We are so freakin GORGE!’
Bit much.
‘Anyway, beauty is only skin deep,’ I remind her before she gets carried away with her own reflection.
‘But you could still steal our guys from us,’ says a small blue-haired woman. ‘Is that what you’re planning?’
‘That’s right, Binky. She could,’ says Mimi. ‘I’d watch your man when he’s around Libby. I saw him giving her the eye.’
‘I’m hardly a man-eater. Besides, you’ve only had your men for five minutes. You barely know them. You,’ I say, pointing to the weakest-looking girl at the back. ‘What’s your fella’s name?’
She looks shocked, like she has no idea. ‘It’s Germaine. Or Germanji.’
‘No, Kassy. My one is called Germanji, your one is called Brid,’ says Mimi.
‘It’s not Brid. It’s Brad. He’s Australian,’ says Amber.
‘Is he?’ says Kassy.
