“You gonna be much longer in there?” my flatmate asks as I apply the finishing touches to my make-up and give my ever-growing hair one final brush.

“Just a sec,” I reply. “Just got one last thing to do….” I smile as I reach into my medicine drawer and retrieve the two packets of pills that over the last two weeks have become beyond precious to me. The fact that one packet is labelled ‘progesterone’ and the other ‘oestrogen’ should be all you need to know why.

In the two months since my ‘debut’ at Heavenly Talent, the agency has certainly kept me busy, helped by the fact that both Martha and I have been in high demand. I’ve travelled to Manchester, Bristol and, yes, Scotland for TV segments; I’ve done almost twenty photoshoots; almost daily endorsements on my social media channels and have earned more money in that time than even I know how to spend. I’ve had my face plastered over countless different types of merchandise — many of which I’ve signed for fans — and on billboards all around the country, and even on some upcoming television adverts. I’m even in talks with a major cosmetics company about having my own personalised line.

In a very short space of time, I have become one of the most famous women in the country, despite the fact that legally, I’m not even a woman — not yet anyway. But even there, Heavenly Talent’s retained gender identity counsellor (who also happens to be our PA’s mother-in-law) has helped fast track my prescription for HRT and is helping me compile evidence for my eventual application for a gender recognition certificate. And yet, I still feel uneasy.

Of course, I’ve had my fair share — assuming any share is ‘fair’ — of online abuse from trolls, TERFs and right-wingers, sad little people who have nothing better to do with their day than sit at their computers all day typing vile messages to make their own lives seem that little bit less pathetic. Heavenly Talent’s social media department have worked hard to try to filter out the majority of the morons, but some still occasionally sneak through, and as much as I wish I could say it didn’t affect me, each vile comment still feels like a knife in the back, not least because I can so easily imagine them coming from members of my ‘family.’

Even despite my vastly increased public profile, I have had no contact with any members of my family — my biological family, anyway. Ordinarily, this wouldn’t be so bad — the bridges may be burnt, but I knew that was always going to happen anyway. What makes it worse is that in every interview I do, the interviewer always, ALWAYS asks about my family. Each and every time. I’m asked about my childhood, about my grandfather, about any contact I’ve had with the royal family….

Naturally, I try to brush off these questions as irrelevant- my ‘real’ family are, as far as I’m concerned, the Angels and the rest of Heavenly Talent. But those questions just won’t stop coming, especially with the Constables refusing to comment further beyond the original statement that they put out. And, obviously, the royal family have remained completely silent, as is their wont.

There’s a part of me that tries to rationalise this interest as just me being the new girl in the group, and everyone wanting to get an exclusive from me, and that interest will eventually naturally fade. And that would be true if it wasn’t for one thing — the new season of the Angels, the original show that I fell in love with all those years ago, starts filming in just a few days, and one of the storylines the producers have pitched for me is ‘attempt to reconcile with family.’

Obviously, I have the power of veto over anything the producers propose that I really don’t want to do, and I have most definitely exercised it in this instance. And it’s not like there aren’t already plenty of storylines to explore, not least ‘the new girl joining the established group.’ However, the producers are eager to delve deeper into my backstory for the show, and like it or not, that includes my family. Hell, they’ve even attempted to track down my oldest brother for a potential on-screen reunion. It wouldn’t surprise me if they dig even deeper and try to track down Dina Black….

Thankfully, up until now, my work has kept me distracted, but the new season starts filming tomorrow, meaning I need to prepare myself both mentally and professionally. Not least because, like all previous seasons, the start of filming coincides with one of the biggest nights of the Angel calendar — Hannah Dexter’s birthday party.

“Okay, all yours,” I say, putting my lipstick (nude matte, of course) back in my make-up bag and allowing my flatmate to replace me in our bathroom.

“I still say we should’ve gone for the place with the two en-suites,” Martha complains from behind the bathroom door.

“That would make entertaining guests very awkward,” I retort. “Especially if your bedroom’s as messy as it was in the last week of the show.”

“You say ‘messy,’ I say ‘personalised,’ ” Martha snorts. “And believe me, it could’ve been worse. You should’ve seen Lydia’s room during that last week.”

“Umm, I did,” I remind my friend. “Watched literally every second of the show, heh. Well, the bits after I was eliminated, I mean.”

“Heh, I know what you mean,” Martha chuckles.

“…You were in literally every second of the show,” I remind my friend, earning an even louder chuckle at my (slight) exaggeration.

“Yeah, but I mean, like, seeing myself on TV,” Martha explains. “Hell, even editing my own Instagram videos makes me cringe sometimes, thank God we’ve got someone else doing that now, heh.”

“It’s definitely made my life easier,” I chuckle. “Both from a time saving standpoint and — well, the ‘other thing,’ heh. Better get used to the ‘other thing’ soon, though, especially with filming starting soon.”

“God, you said it,” Martha says with a nervous chuckle. “I must’ve watched every episode of the Angels at least four times, heh. When I was a kid, I used to dream about what it’d be like to actually be one of the Angels, to go to all the parties — heh. I suppose I don’t need to tell you of all people what it’s like to have a dream come true, do I?”

“Indeed you don’t,” I reply, earning a giggle from my flatmate. “But it doesn’t make your dreams any less valid, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Martha replies, accompanied by a flush of the toilet to let me know that we’re both now ready for the day ahead. “Did we need to bring anything along today?”

“Just ourselves,” I reply with a shrug. “And, of course, the sexiest professional outfits we own!”

“Hehe!” Martha giggles as I do a slow twirl in my outfit.

As we’re in the office today, we’ve both dressed appropriately, but we still of course have appearances to keep. I’ve opted for a slinky knee-length pencil dress in a grey and black block colour pattern with a high vent at the back. Normally, this would cost £240 from the designer’s website, but I, of course, was gifted it for free to promote it on my Instagram. The fact that I’m wearing it today almost guarantees that the website will send more ‘work’ my way too — not that this is a bad thing, of course. I’m wearing my hair in a tight French braid, held in place by a fancy silver unicorn clip (unicorns, of course, being the national animal of Scotland) while I have a dainty silver necklace around my neck with a small heart charm. Both of these items of jewellery are, of course, also items given to me for promotional purposes.

Martha, meanwhile, is wearing a lightweight but still warm-looking black suit with a fitted blazer and short clingy pencil skirt, under which she is wearing a white bodysuit with a lace trim at the collar. All of these were also, of course, gifted. Martha’s now well-known love of bodysuits saw her sign a very lucrative exclusive deal with the designer that saw her photo on several websites, most notably the designer’s Amazon store. She also, of course, tried to sell me on the garments’ good points — not that I needed much persuading to slip into a form-fitting, sexy bodysuit!

Both of us are also wearing designer shoes, of course — black pumps with 3.5” heels for both of us, both pairs bought from Harrods using our clothing allowance, and as it’s October, both of us are also wearing tights, with even these being gifted designer garments. I’m wearing a very dark black pair that makes my legs look slender and seem to be continuous with my shoes, while Martha’s are dark brown to complement her skin tone, but also have delicate lace patterns weaved throughout.

Both of us look like exactly what we are — young, famous and talented women who are swimming in more money than we’ve ever known. Which is for the best, as like I said, we have appearances to keep up, and there are plenty of people outside who are desperate for a photo of us as we step into our waiting taxi. Okay, I say ‘people,’ most are actually paparazzi, but there are still plenty of fans we stop for a couple of quick selfies with before being driven the short journey to Heavenly Talent’s head office.

“…I still sometimes wonder how my dad’s reacting to his youngest son becoming one of the most famous women in the country,” I muse out loud as I scroll through the many notifications I’ve received on my phone in the last twenty minutes alone.

“Girl, seriously,” Martha sighs — and in fairness, she HAS heard this musing before. “Forget about those crusties. Please. It’s your life, your success. You owe them precisely none of it, not even to rub your success in their faces.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” I sigh. “It’s just — ugh. It’s still a lot to adjust to, you know? Especially after the first 23 years of my life. But, like you said, my REAL life has only just begun, hehe!”

“Damn right it has!” Martha giggles. “And like I’ve told you before, when it comes to things like Christmas, you’re more than welcome to come and spend it with my family. Heh, if nothing else, because Redhill’s a lot closer to London then Scotland is.”

“Most of northern France is closer to London than Scotland is,” I retort, as I briefly wonder about my brother — my oldest brother, Robert, who I haven’t seen or heard from in years. I wonder who he spends his Christmases with? It’s only a couple of months away, is he still with the partner he introduced to the family all those years ago? I also can’t help but wonder where Dina Black spends her Christmases, and whether or not she makes the long trip back to Edinburgh. Or even whether or not she has a partner to spend the festive season with….

“I reckon I might have a little competition, though?” Martha asks, snapping me out of my reverie as we pull up outside the shiny, tall building that contains the head offices of Heavenly Talent. “For the honour of hosting Miss Dina Williams for Christmas?”

“…Maybe,” I reply with a teasing grin as we exit the taxi and head into the building, both of us smirking at the familiar sight of a bright pink London taxi among the cars parked outside the building — a taxi that also bears the images of twelve young women, with Martha and myself the two newest additions. While I knew in advance that all of the others Angels would be present today, the presence of the Angelmobile (as the pink taxi is known) also means that its most regular driver is probably here today — and, indeed, is also the first face we see as we enter the busy lobby of the agency.

“Hey girls!” Nikki, our — or rather, all of the Angels’ — executive PA says with an excited squeak as she skips over to us. “Everybody’s already here, you’re the last to arrive.”

“We — we’re not in any trouble, are we?” I ask nervously, trying not to blush as our PA giggles.

“No, you’re still well early!” Nikki giggles. “Everyone’s just getting some coffee and catching up. And, of course, getting excited about tomorrow night!”

“Ooh, yes!” Martha says, almost bouncing up and down with excitement as the three of us (with masks on, of course) ride the lift to the floor with the main conference room. “I mean, the Saturday parties are cool and all, but a proper, big birthday party’s something else, you know? Especially as it’s the first one since lockdown.”

"And whose fault is that?" I tease my flatmate, reminding her of her own birthday last month — and how she had a very small celebration at home in Redhill with just her family.

"Play nice," Nikki chastises me, smirking behind her mask and rolling her eyes as I giggle. “Though the presence of an entire production company would be kinda off-putting for a small, family celebration, heh. I hope you're okay with all the cameras being there for Hannah's big party, though?”

“I’m kinda in the wrong modelling clique if I wasn't okay with it!” Martha replies, causing the three of us to giggle as Nikki opens the conference door and we’re greeted by the smiling faces of our six fellow Angels — our peers, as insane as that still feels to say.

“Hey, new girls!” Hannah giggles as she approaches us, before stopping two metres short, holding up her hands and wiggling her fingers at us. “Virtual hugs and kisses!”

“Virtual hugs and kisses!” Martha and I say as we mirror the blonde woman’s gesture.

“Though we did both test negative this morning,” I reassure the other women in the room. “And we will be keeping our masks on.”

“Despite that very lucrative deal you just signed with the maker of your favourite lipstick?” Kelly teases me as I sit down next (well, as ‘next’ as you can get with social distancing) to her.

“Literally every other person in this room has some sort of cosmetics deal,” I retort, earning giggles that only louden as the conference room door opens and a familiar tall, dark-skinned young man walks through. “Well, NEARLY every other person….”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Jonathan snorts as he sits down in one of the chairs at the head of the table and starts setting up his laptop. “Quick reminder that my missus isn’t one of you anymore, so I CAN tell you off if I need to.” Needless to say, this earns loud ‘oohs from all of us!

“And if he can’t,” the booming voice of Joshua Benedict calls, preceding his entrance into the room, “then I will be as entertained as all of you ladies!” The eight of us share a genuine chuckle as the distinguished older gentleman sits down next to his nephew/adoptive son at the head of the table.

“I didn’t think you’d be in today, boss?” Martha asks, earning an uncharacteristically restrained chuckle from the owner of the agency.

“I am always here for the start of filming a new season,” Joshua replies. “There are some parts of the business too important to not get personally involved in, and this is definitely one of them.”

“I think what my uncle is trying to say is ‘no pressure,’ ” Jonathan quips, smirking as Joshua gives him a playful slap on the arm, before we all pay attention as a PowerPoint presentation appears on the side wall of the room.

“The pre-season briefing usually does take a while,” Kelly explains to me with a sympathetic look in her eyes.

“Like my uncle said: very important part of the business,” Jonathan clarifies. “Amazon give us a LOT of money to make these episodes, we need to make sure they’re getting their money’s worth.

“And as Jonathan clarified: ‘no pressure,’ ” Joshua says with a chuckle. “But six of you already know that and know this process inside out and backwards and forwards. As for the two of you who are new: you would not have been chosen if it was felt you could not fulfil your responsibilities as Angels.”

“In short: as much as we all love Krystie, Mary, Viks and Malaika,” Charlotte interjects, “the best eight women in the world for this job are all sitting in this room right now.”

“Definitely,” Hannah concurs. “And hey, change can be hard, but sometimes, it’s definitely for the better.”

“There are three women in this room who can personally attest to that,” Jamie says with a wise, knowing smile, even as I fidget uncomfortably in my seat — it’s obvious that the three women she’s referring to are herself, Kelly and me, and the 'thing' we share is even more obvious.

“Is that — is that going to be, like, ‘highlighted’ at all?” I ask timidly, biting my lip as everyone turns to look in my direction. “I mean, that before, the proportion of trans women to cis women was two out of ten, but now it’s three out of eight?”

“So what?” Charlotte asks with a shrug. “Eight women are eight women. End of story.”

“Exactly,” Martha says with a supportive look in her eyes as I start to blush behind my mask.

“…Thanks,” I mumble. “Not everyone agrees with you, though.”

“And we have seven years of trying to convince the world under our belt,” Joshua reminds me, deepening the red colour of my cheeks even as he smiles supportively. “Your question is nothing that has not been asked before, but it is still a valid concern. A concern that shall be addressed in the presentation, especially when we reach what shall be your focus for the season.”

“Which actually brings us nicely onto the first slide,” Jonathan says as he clicks his mouse and the picture on the projector changes. “As you’ve probably all sussed out by now, one of the major ‘threads’ for this season is going to be how Martha and Dina integrate with the group as a whole. Obviously, we’re absolutely thrilled that you’ve all become genuine friends so quickly, but we don’t want to simply gloss over any bumps in the road you might have.” I sit back and listen along with the rest of my fellow Angels — once again, a surreal thing to say — as the details of the recording dates are laid out.

I will admit to zoning out a bit when individual plans for the other Angels are discussed, such as Jamie and her husband raising another adopted baby, Alice planning her wedding to her fiancé or Abbey-Gayle visiting her family in Jamaica for the first time in over two years. I was laser focused when it was my turn, however, even though most of the news was nothing new — the main focus of my season would be on the start of my transition, along with integrating with the group and settling in to living together with Martha (which was also, obviously, part of her focus for the season).

The meeting continues until early afternoon, with only a brief break for lunch, by the end of which everybody’s head is spinning from the information we’ve taken in. However, I still have pressing questions that haven’t been answered — and it quickly transpires that I’m not the only one.

“I just have a couple of questions before we go,” Hannah says before I have the chance to ask my questions. “Sorry, everyone!” I can’t help but giggle as I join in the playful jeering of the blonde Angel as she smirks. “What’s going to happen with Viks, Mary and Krys? I mean, they may not be ‘proper’ Angels anymore, but they’re still our friends, Viks and Krys will be at the party tomorrow and Mary would be too if she wasn’t staying in Ireland an extra week.”

“Well we’re not going to ban them from being on-screen,” Jonathan replies with a chuckle. “God knows my home life would be over if I tried, heh. But we won’t be promoting them as much, that’s all. Trust me when I say they still have plenty of work!”

“What — what about the other candidates,” I ask nervously, trying not to blush as everyone’s eyes once again turn in my direction. “From the show — the competition, I mean? They ARE signed to the agency….”

“…They won’t be promoted as much either,” Jonathan replies quietly. “Brutal as it sounds, we ARE running a business, and we have to focus on our biggest income earners — namely, the eight of you. We’re not gonna ban Lydia, Hayley or any of the others from being on the show, and if they show up in the background of an episode, then great. Heh, I can almost see the cameo compilation videos on YouTube now. We might even put one out on our official channel, heh. But — but you can trust me when I say that they’re getting work as well, and good work. Just maybe not twenty grand’s worth of endorsements every week, heh.”

“All nine of them HAVE been to Saturday parties since the show ended,” Charlotte reminds me. “Well, seven of ‘them,’ I guess, as two of ‘them’ are now two of ‘us,’ heh!”

“Hell yeah they are!” Kelly giggles as Martha and I blush.

“And Lydia will be there tomorrow night, obviously,” Hannah says with a proud grin.

“Hayley would’ve been at my party too… if I’d had one,” Jamie chuckles. “Kinda hard celebrating your birthday in the middle of a pandemic when you’ve got a child under one in the house, heh.”

“What Mrs. Milton ACTUALLY means is she didn’t want people to focus on her reaching the big three-oh,” Charlotte teases her BFF, who rolls her eyes and blushes. “Which means her big three-one will just have to be a triply big party to make up for it!”

“Better mark the nineteenth of September 2022 in your diaries now, girls,” Kelly teases Martha and me as we all chuckle again. “Heh, by which time I imagine we’ll have all had a brand-new batch of potential Angel candidates coming through the agency?”

“You imagine correctly,” Joshua replies with a wide smile. “The first season was a definite success, thanks in no small part to our new girls!” I bite my lip as Martha and I blush once again. “There will be a second season once we have finished filming the main show. No rest for the wicked, I’m afraid!”

“Or the angelic, even,” Hannah corrects her — or I suppose, our — boss with a confident smirk.

“Indeed!” Joshua booms across the conference room. “And unless anyone else has more questions, I feel I have taken enough of your valuable time! I hope you have a perfect day tomorrow, Hannah, and I look forward to seeing the videos from the party. As do your millions of fans!”

“Thanks, boss,” the tall blonde woman says, all of us smiling as she leads us out of the room and down to the lobby, where our PA is waiting for us.

“Hello, ‘other boss!’ ” Jamie teases, giggling as Nikki sighs and rolls her eyes as I suddenly find myself feeling uncomfortable — and it’s easy to figure out why.

Jamie and Nikki have known each other for, according to the latter, over eight years. Jamie and Charlotte have known each other for over ten years. Even though the latter isn’t technically an Angel anymore, Hannah and Viks have been best friends for over seventeen years. Seventeen! I, meanwhile, have barely been an Angel for seventeen weeks. In that time, I’ve been shown nothing but acceptance, inclusion and even love by the other women, who appear sincere in their desire to help me become ‘one of the girls,’ and I have no reason to doubt their sincerity.

And yet, this environment is still alien to me. The casual teasing between friends, the relaxed and approachable attitude of Joshua and Jonathan and the sheer ‘openness’ of everyone is a far cry from my time working for my family’s company — or even from my family full stop [wording]. I would never dream of teasing my parents — or God forbid, my grandparents — the way the Angels tease Joshua, a man with a net worth of over £80 million and who has been awarded an OBE by the Queen herself. However, it’s clear that this is not only his preferred management style, but also his genuine character.

My family would no doubt have looked down on Joshua — would have, in the past tense. He arrived in the UK at the age of 21, an African immigrant with mere pennies to his name. Sure, in Nigeria, his family was well-regarded, but that wouldn’t matter one bit to my family. Nearly forty years later, though, with all he’s accomplished, they’d be much more ‘receptive’ — not least because he’s even richer than my grandfather. And yet, the Heavenly Talent offices might be the most open and friendly workplace anywhere in the country right now. Sure, they might be in completely different lines of business, but the difference between the two companies I’ve worked for is still enough to make my head spin even months later. The only thing they have in common is the dress code — but even here it’s as much to promote clothing brands as anything….

“I’m giving lifts home to Kelly & Charlotte,” Nikki explains, “but that still leaves two seats in the Angelmobile for anyone who also wants a lift home. Or, you know, to Harrods, to maybe get a gift or two….” I smirk as several of the Angels’ hands raise — including Hannah’s, much to everyone’s amusement.

“What?” The tall blonde woman protests. “Got to start my Christmas shopping at some point, right?”

“ ‘Christmas’ shopping, sure,” Alice teases Hannah, before both descending into fits of giggles.

“Okay, you two just forfeited your ride,” Nikki teases, smirking as Alice and Hannah playfully stick out their tongues at her. “Jamie, Abbey-Gayle — you’re with me, I’ll arrange lifts home for the rest of you before I go.”

“Yes, boss!” Jamie teases our PA once again, who rolls her eyes before heading to the reception desk. “Ah… we love her really, though.”

“Absolutely,” Kelly says, before turning to me and Martha with a smile on her face. “And don’t worry, you two. I know this whole situation can seem a little… ‘in-jokey’ to outsiders, and believe me, I’ve been there myself when I first joined the Angels five years ago.”

“It’s… very different from everywhere I’ve worked before,” I say with a chuckle. “Admittedly that is only one other place, but still, heh.”

“For — for your family?” Kelly asks, making me bite my lip as the question immediately lowers the mood of the group, with all the Angels being aware of my family history.

“Yeah,” I whisper. “Well, my biological family, anyway. I’m sure someone’s said somewhere that you should never work with your family, but I’m kinda enjoying my current job with my new family, heh!” Thankfully, this immediately lightens the mood again as our PA returns.

“Okay!” Nikki giggles as she jingles a set of car keys. “Angelmobile’s ready to go, taxis have been booked for the rest of you.”

“…Shopping, or home?” Martha asks, turning to me with a cheeky grin on her face.

“As if there’s a choice,” Alice teases us as I giggle and blush once again.

“Harrods it is!” I say, earning an excited squeak from my flatmate as one of Nikki’s underlings fetches our coats from the nearby cloakroom and we head outside to wait for our ride.

Naturally, the rest of the afternoon is spent damaging our debit cards at the high-end shop, me walking away with two new skirts and a pair of gorgeous strappy sandals while Martha takes home a stretchy jumpsuit and a pair of boots. Neither of us buy anything for Hannah, largely as we sorted our presents for her weeks ago, and after all, what do you buy the girl who has everything — not least, over twenty million followers on social media?

When we return home and check our emails, though, I get at least a partial answer to that question: namely, ‘something that looks impressive when opened on camera.’

“…And I thought the briefing today was long,” Martha moans as she scrolls through the extra-long pdf file we received while out shopping. “Maybe I’m being naïve, but I’m pretty sure when I applied to be an Angel, they didn’t mention that there’d be this much paperwork?”

“Most of it’s stuff we’ve been sent already,” I reply. “Take it from someone who’s worked in a corporate environment: when you’re dealing with big money contracts like ours, absolutely every I needs to be dotted and every T crossed before you even start.”

“At this point I think it’s my ‘I’s that are crossing,” Martha moans. “Who knew that reality TV needed to be planned out so carefully in advance?”

“Yep,” I chuckle.

“Still, once we get down to it, all we’ll need to worry about it looking cute on camera, right?” Martha asks with a giggle that I echo. “How — if you don’t mind me asking, like, but — how long d’you reckon you’re gonna stay with the Angels? I mean, now that some of the originals have left, a lot of the others either have families or are planning them….”

“I — I genuinely haven’t thought about it,” I reply. “Maybe that’s just me not properly planning ahead, but — but I’ve barely even started to be an Angel. Heh, and there’s no guarantee that we’ll be successful, no matter what the bosses say.”

“Love the optimism,” Martha teases. “But — yeah, I can’t say I haven’t had the same thoughts myself. Like, tomorrow isn’t just a party, if you get what I mean?”

“100%,” I sigh as I hold up the small parcel that arrived this morning, while we were at the office. “The same way my next dress-up session won’t be just a dress-up session, heh.”

“Ooh, exciting!” Martha giggles, discarding her phone and excitedly sliding next to me on the sofa as I open the box. “What’ve you got? What’ve you got?” The two of us squeak with excitement as I unwrap the delicate wrapping paper within the box to unveil a very small but very stretchy black lacy bodysuit, which immediately makes Martha green with envy.

“Okay, I am TOTALLY buying one of those, hehe!” Martha giggles. “Reckon they come in my size?”

“Ah,” I say, grimacing as I read the note that was included with the bodysuit. “Maybe- maybe not.” Martha frowns with confusion as I hold up the garment, before nodding with understanding as I unfasten the crotch of the garment and slide my fingers into a telltale ‘pouch’ in the front of it.

“Ah,” Martha mumbles. “D’you reckon they, you know, sent samples to Jamie and Kelly too?”

“I doubt it,” I reply. “As they-”

“They — they’re post-operative, of course,” Martha interrupts with a sigh. “You know, this is literally the first time today I’ve thought of you as ‘built differently’ to me, even when they were talking about you transitioning in the meeting it didn’t spring to mind at all.”

“Thanks,” I say, smiling to let my flatmate know I accepted her compliment. “And yeah, it is kinda the ultimate insult to ask a trans person what’s in their pants, even for girls like Jamie and Kelly, whose operations were, like, heavily blogged about. And like mine, which will be heavily blogged about, heh.”

“Are you — are you definitely getting the operation then?” Martha asks, before grimacing at her perceived faux pas. “Ah — sorry if that’s too, like, ‘personal’ a question….”

“…It is, but I know you’re asking as a friend rather than out of, I mean, ‘sick curiosity’ or whatever,” I reassure my friend. “And yes, I plan on having it as soon as I possibly can. No hesitation.”

“Life as a woman is THAT good, then?” Martha teases.

“You tell me!” I reply, sharing a giggle with my friend as I take my new bodysuit through to my bedroom and place it on the pile of clothes I need to film promotional material for.

“That bodysuit is cute, though,” Martha says, not even bothering to hide the envy in her voice. “A ‘bodycute,’ heh. And if the manufacturer does any more clothes for pre-op girls, well, I suppose you’re now top of their list of girls to call?”

“I wouldn’t say no to them,” I reply, before pausing and allowing myself a tired chuckle. “Heh, never thought I’d end up accepting the responsibility of ‘Britain’s most visible pre-op transgender person.’ ”

“I know what you mean,” Martha says, making me frown with confusion until she clarifies. “As in I know what it’s like to, like, represent. The fact that my skin’s more brown than pink pisses off God knows how many people, and yet the fact that one of my parents is white pisses off even more people.”

“Yeah, but you don’t piss off your parents simply by being you,” I sigh. “Still, I can’t exactly ‘shirk’ my responsibility now, heh. Both to my ‘community’ and the people sending me cute clothes, heh!”

“It’s a tough job, but someone’s got to do it,” Martha giggles. “Well, actually, it isn’t really, and I’m very glad I’m the one doing it, heh!”

“WE’RE the ones doing it,” I correct my flatmate, who giggles as she heads to the kitchen area and puts the kettle on. As she does, though, I can’t help but muse on her words, specifically that I now have a responsibility to the community that has taken me to their heart, and that I have implicitly agreed to represent.

Of course, ‘representing’ is something I’m hardly new to. For as long as I can remember, I was told that I ‘represented’ my family every time I stepped out in public. Sometimes even behind closed doors, too. The difference there, though, is that I had no choice but to represent my family — a fact that was drilled into me repeatedly throughout my entire life. Joining the Angels, however, was something that I chose to do. Probably my first ever ‘real’ choice, come to think of it.

Obviously, I didn’t ‘choose’ to be trans. No one does — who would willingly inflict upon themselves the dilemma of either living every second of their lives in abject misery or relieving the misery, but at the cost of every friendship and family relationship that had been established up to that point? I did, however, choose ‘Dina Williams’ as my new identity — my TRUE identity. I did choose to enter ‘So You Want to Be an Angel?’ and as such, chose the responsibilities that went along with the many, many rewards of being an Angel. If one of those responsibilities is being a role model for other trans girls, then so be it, and if there’s even one girl out there who is inspired by my story to become the woman they truly are on the inside, then as far as I’m concerned, it’s all worth it.

With a busy day tomorrow, Martha and I opt for an early dinner before recording our latest social media videos and then getting an early night. As always seems to be the case lately, though, as I lay in bed, I find myself drawn to my phone to check the response to my latest posts. Ever since Heavenly Talent took over the editing, uploading and promotion of my videos, my subscriber and view count — and as a consequence, my income — has gone through the roof, while obnoxious and abusive comments are much more swiftly dealt with (following a recommendation of the agency’s social media team, I haven’t dared look at my accounts’ block list in weeks). Of course, nobody’s infallible, so the occasional idiotic comment does still slip through, but I can usually rapidly deal with them myself, and what usually brings the smile back to my face is seeing the same usernames over and over again on each of my posts, as though I’m developing a genuine cult following of my own. Usernames like ‘DinaW_fan_21’ are certainly a boost to the ego too!

Eventually, though, my phone goes back onto my nightstand and I lower my head onto my pillow, quickly drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

My phone’s alarm wakes me the following morning just after 9am, though the sound of breakfast television coming from the living room tells me my flatmate is already awake. The smell of coffee that wafts into my room when I open my door only confirms this suspicion.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty!” Martha giggles as I wrap myself in my dressing gown and head toward the bathroom, frowning as always at the feel of the very not-beautiful faint stubble on my face. Those laser hair treatments I booked through my counsellor can’t come soon enough….

“Morning,” I mumble in reply. “Just need to take care of — well, yeah — then I’ll be out for breakfast,” I reply.

“Yep, well, I’d save some space if I were you,” Martha advises. “Had a text from Nikki about 20 minutes ago, apparently there’s gonna be a big ‘Angel brunch’ this morning, taxi will be here in a bit. And so will cameras.”

“Nice of them to give us so much notice,” I grumble as I close the bathroom door and set about the task of removing not just the stubble on my face, but every trace of hair below my eyelashes, before hastily showering and applying my make-up for the day.

After leaving the bathroom to Martha, I head through to my room to get dressed for the day ahead. I start with the new ‘control’ bodysuit I received (and washed) last night, which easily passed the ‘look and feel’ test despite the control panels around my waist that will hopefully remove the ten pounds that the camera supposedly adds. Next come a pair of shiny translucent black tights, over the bodysuit owing to the latter garment’s thong back, before pulling on a warm, ribbed grey turtleneck sweater with a zip-up back (so as not to smudge my make-up), a slinky black textured pencil miniskirt and a pair of knee-high boots with a chunky 4” heel. Following my ‘slip-up’ in the first challenge of ‘So You Want to Be an Angel,’ I’ve developed the habit of having several outfits ready to go at a moment’s notice, something Kelly and the other ‘original’ Angels have not just approved of, but adopted as part of their routines too.

After ensuring that my nails are free from flaws (HD cameras pick up EVERYTHING, after all), I rendezvous with my flatmate in our corridor, and before we even have the chance to catch our breath we each receive a text to let us know our ride is waiting for us on the street outside. Thankfully, the last-minute nature of the brunch means that there are no paparazzi waiting for us, unlike yesterday, but we still have to almost fight our way past reporters’ and fans’ cameras as we enter the high-end coffee shop that’s been selected for this morning's rendezvous. The appearance of several friendly faces, though, quickly puts my mind at ease.

“Hey, new girls!” Kelly says, grinning behind her face mask as she waves her fingers at us. “Virtual hugs and kisses!”

“Virtual hugs and kisses!” Martha and I reply simultaneously.

“Is the birthday girl here yet?” Martha asks excitedly.

“Not yet,” Kelly replies. “Always arriving fashionably late, heh. I think she’ll be arriving with Viks.” The surprise mention of the former Angel's name makes me frown with confusion — why would she be coming today?

“Viks?” I ask. “I thought she’d retired from the Angels?”

“Well — yeah, but she hasn’t ‘retired’ from being Hannah’s best friend,” Kelly replies. “Heh, Viks and Hannah might be THE definition of ‘BFF.’ I know what was said yesterday, but — but today is Hannah’s day before anything else, so — yeah, basically.”

“O- okay, then,” I say, accepting and understanding my mentor’s explanation even if I am still a little taken aback. Then again, I’ve never really had a ‘best friend’ before — none that I didn’t copy the name and style of, anyway….

“Hey, I thought I heard another arrival!” Alice says with a giggle as she skips toward the three of us. “Virtual hugs and kisses!”

“Virtual hugs and kisses!” Martha and I reply excitedly.

“So… ready for today?” Alice asks, no doubt grinning devilishly behind her mask.

“…Almost?” I reply, earning a sympathetic chuckle from the copper-haired woman.

“You’d think that neither of you had been on streaming TV daily within the last few months!” Alice teases us, making me snort with laughter and Martha, much to my surprise, roll her eyes.

“Yeah, but in the house, everything was structured,” Martha retorts after a brief pause. “We all knew what goal we were working towards. Here it’s… well, we’ve obviously both seen the show so we know what’s expected of us, but I guess it’s just a case of knowing how we’ll fit in with the group, whether the fans will accept us… what- what’s so funny?” I frown along with my flatmate as the two Angels — or should I say, other two Angels — both giggle at our expense.

“…You’re probably talking to THE two people in the world who best know what you’re feeling right now,” Alice replies in an almost smug sounding voice. “Even more than Abbey-Gayle, I mean, she was already dating Charlotte’s brother-in-law when she joined the Angels, but me and Kelly? Total newbies.”

“I wasn’t even signed to Heavenly Talent at the time,” Kelly chuckles. “I jumped over from Spencer and Hall after some advice from Jamie, and less than a week later I had my 'halo and wings,' heh.”

“What about Malaika?” Martha asks, reminding me of the African Angel whose departure, in a way, set the ball rolling for my and Martha’s arrival. “Is it a coincidence that she was the last to join, but the first to leave?”

“Only in the sense that Covid made it really difficult for her to travel back and forth to Kenya,” Kelly replies. “If she wasn’t so homesick we might well now be a nine-woman band instead of eight.”

“And she was just as much an Angel as any of us, even Charlotte or Jamie,” Alice insists. “And so are the two of you.”

“I’ll say it as many times as I need to,” Kelly says, looking directly into my eyes as she speaks. “We would not have even given you a chance of becoming one of us if we didn’t think you were up to the task. The eight current members of the Angels are the best eight women for the job anywhere in the world right now.”

“No offence taken,” the refined voice of Viks Benedict calls from the entrance of the coffee shop as she approaches, accompanied by a very excited looking birthday girl. Naturally, Hannah immediately becomes the centre of attention, and while I can’t begrudge her under the circumstances], I can’t help but feel like my and Martha’s stress has been a little too easily brushed aside.

“Happy birthday!” Alice squeaks as the four of us exchange our ‘virtual hugs and kisses’ with the newcomers. “So… what’s it like, being 29?”

“Basically the same as being 28,” Hannah replies with a tired chuckle before turning to myself and Martha. “Which I know sounds ancient to you two kids, heh!”

“I was about to say, I thought turning 24 was bad!” Martha retorts, triggering a mass giggle. “But seriously, happy birthday!”

“Did you open anything exciting this morning?” I ask, biting my lip as Hannah and her BFF exchange knowing glances.

“…I see you’ve found good replacements for me, then!” Viks giggles.

“No one can ‘replace’ you,” Hannah says, exchanging a gentle one-armed hug with the dark-haired woman as I again find myself feeling sidelined. “But you can never have too many friends, hehe! And to answer your question, Dina: yes, plenty of pressies! The REAL gifts are gonna come this evening, though!”

“Yeah they are!” Alice giggles as she leads the six of us back to an area that’s been specially roped off and decorated with ostentatious pink streamers and balloons, with the table seemingly set for afternoon tea. Naturally, Hannah lets out a squeak of excitement as she sees the table, though I can’t help but wonder how much of the excitement is because of — or maybe even for the benefit of — the TV cameras recording the scene.

Despite my nerves — this will be the first ‘proper’ scene I film for the show that helped me so much throughout my youth, after all — I smile too, though I am surprised when I’m directed into the seat next to the birthday girl (with Viks obviously sitting down on the other side). Kelly then sits down next to me, with Martha on the other side of Kelly and Alice sitting next to Viks as the six of us remove our masks.

“This is AWESOME,” Hannah enthuses with another excited squeak. “If this is what 29 is like, well, you guys will REALLY need to pull out the stops for 30, hehe!”

“Oh, I think that can be arranged,” Viks replies with a smug grin. “And, well, WILL be arranged, hehe!”

“Maybe focus on ‘29’ first, though!” Alice teases the blonde Angel, earning a giggle as a waiter comes around to take our orders. Much to my surprise, despite the coffee shop advertising alcoholic drinks on the walls inside, the only beverages offered to us are teas and coffees. Hannah must obviously take the ‘afternoon tea’ theme seriously.

“Given that ‘28’ didn’t happen at all, I intend to,” Hannah says with a happy, but at the same time still sad-sounding sigh. “I’m just happy to be back with my family, heh.” That word again, I think to myself as it inspires me to at least try to contribute to the conversation.

“Did you — did you see them this morning, then?” I ask. “Your family, I mean.”

“Umm… I’m seeing them right now!” Hannah replies with a giggle as she gestures to the women sat at the table — myself included.

“Yeah,” I say as I share a chuckle with the other women. “I mean — I mean your, like, ‘family,’ like, your parents?” I bite my lip as Hannah — usually one of the sweetest women there is — flashes me the briefest of angry glares, before turning back to face the rest of the table.

“Got all the family I need right here,” Hannah says with a warm smile, which changes into a wide grin as a waiter places in front of her an elaborate (and very delicious smelling) mug of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream, marshmallows, chocolate sprinkles and even glittery pink syrup.

“Okay, I think I need to hit the gym just sitting at the same table as that thing,” Alice teases, giggling as Hannah rolls her eyes, though the excitement levels at the table rise again as the three remaining members of the Angels make their arrival.

“Hey guys!” Charlotte says as she leads Jamie and Abbey-Gayle to our table. “And a special hey to the birthday girl!”

“Thanks!” Hannah squeaks as she stands up and exchanges the ‘virtual hugs and kisses’ with the three newcomers, all of whom quickly take a seat at the table. As the nine of us get settled, though, I feel a hand on my arm — the hand of my mentor, who urges me to lean in close to her.

“A word of advice,” Kelly whispers. “Don’t press Hannah about her bio family. It — well, you of all people should know.” I bite my lip as I suddenly start to realise what I’ve done — God knows if I’d had people, supposed friends even, pressing me about my parents and my siblings on my birthday, I’d be angry. I’d be angry even if the questions weren’t asked in front of a TV camera. Then again, my relationship with my bio family isn’t exactly a secret….

“Should I — should I apologise?” I whisper back.

“Hannah’s not the type to hold a grudge,” Kelly advises. “But it wouldn’t hurt. In private, obviously.” I nod and bite my lip as — deliberately, this time — I slip into the background of the conversation, while the other eight women, even Martha, discuss the birthday girl and this evening's big party.

Eventually, though, the opportunity to speak privately with the birthday girl presents itself as the show’s director calls a pause in filming and many of the assembled women take advantage of the break to head to the ladies’ room — the birthday girl included. Even though I’m far from desperate, I figure 'better safe than sorry' so I head that way too, musing as always at how none of women even look twice as I enter the convenience that millions worldwide feel I should be legally barred from entering.

I find a stall and go about my business, but my attempts to be quick are hindered as, not for the first time, I struggle to refasten my bodysuit after wiping myself, a task made all the harder by the bodysuit's 'special pouch.' Eventually, after a lot of quiet grunting, squeaking and swearing, I manage to fasten the two flaps together. After rearranging my outfit and stretching to get myself comfortable (and praying that my bodysuit doesn’t pop open again, as has frustratingly happened many times before), I flush and leave the stall, only to pause when I see the birthday girl staring straight at me with a neutral expression on her face. I’m in trouble now….

“Umm… hi?” I mumble at the tall blonde woman.

“Are — are you okay?” Hannah asks, allowing a small giggle past her concerned demeanour, which becomes a full-blown laugh when I roll my eyes.

“Bodysuit problems,” I reply. “As I have, like, a long torso, so-”

“Yeah, I — I get it,” Hannah interrupts with a giggle. “Not a problem I have, heh, but have you ever thought about, you know, wearing a top instead?”

“When the company that paid me to wear this bodysuit send me one, I will,” I reply, earning a giggle and a nod from my fellow Angel.

“Say no more,” Hannah giggles as she goes back to touching up her make-up while I wash my hands, though obviously, considering the reason I came in here in the first place, saying more is exactly what I intend — what I NEED to do.

“Hannah, I — I’m sorry if I, like, touched a nerve earlier,” I say in a much more timid voice than I intended when I opened my mouth. As sweet and down to Earth as everyone says Hannah is, she is still a major celebrity with a social media following well into eight figures. “Umm, I mean, when I, like, talked about-”

“It — it’s okay, honestly,” Hannah interrupts, before letting out a long sigh. “I don’t — I don’t talk about my family much, especially not in, like, public, or interviews or anything like that.”

“The irony being that when I’m interviewed, they ask me about nothing else,” I muse aloud, biting my lip nervously as Hannah pauses fixing her make-up, only to let out another long sigh.

“Ah — yeah,” the birthday girl sighs, turning to me with a sympathetic look in her eyes. “And I DID know that, so — yeah. I’m sorry if I, you know, jumped down your throat or anything.”

“Umm, hardly,” I chuckle. “I just try not to think about my family anymore, really. There’s only so much rejection I can put up with, heh, but I — I’m sure you know that?” I bite my lip as Hannah pauses again, only to close her eyes and sigh — I’ve really screwed up this time….

“Not — not quite,” the blonde woman whispers. “My family, they — they didn’t reject me. I — I rejected them.”

“I — I’m sorry?” I ask incredulously, before blinking and shaking my head. “No — no, don’t tell me if you don’t want-”

“No, it — if we’re going to be working together for years, it’s only fair that you know,” Hannah interrupts. “If only so you don’t put your foot in it again, heh. I — I don’t want this to come across as snobbish, but my family, they — they’re really, like, the complete opposite of yours.”

“Umm, okay…” I reply, smiling sympathetically as Hannah takes a deep breath before continuing.

“My dad… I haven’t seen since I was eighteen,” Hannah explains. “My half-brothers — we have the same father, different mothers — have been in and out of prison so many times since they were eighteen they basically have a loyalty card at Pentonville. Pretty sure they’re currently inside for supplying class A drugs and firearms offences. Won’t be out this side of 2030.”

“Yikes,” I say, the news hitting me almost like a hammer blow.

“I know, right?” Hannah sighs. “I doubt either them or my ‘dad’ even know it’s my birthday today. And my mum… yeah. Constantly in and out of rehab and currently ‘in.’ For, like, alcohol, nothing ‘stronger.’ But it’s enough where every time she gets out of rehab, a few months later she calls me demanding money that I know she’s just going to pour straight down her throat. And when I tell her I’ll pay for her to go to rehab — again — I get called everything. She tells me she hates me, she wishes I was never born, that I’m an ungrateful, stuck-up bitch… and then an hour later she calls back sobbing hysterically down the phone, telling me she loves me, I’m the best daughter in the world and she’d do anything for me, even go back into rehab. And the damning thing is, I know she’s being sincere when she tells me that she loves me. But I also know she’s being sincere when she tells me she hates me as well. Booze, it — it rots your brain. That’s why I never drink more than a couple of glasses each night.”

“Why — why not just stop drinking altogether?” I ask, understanding now why champagne or anything similar was off the menu this morning.

“Because I want to be better than her,” Hannah replies. “If I stop drinking altogether, that means I know I can’t control myself. But I can. I will. And I have.” I smile as Hannah composes herself, before putting the finishing touches to her make-up and turning back to me with a sad smile on her face.

“…Thank you,” I whisper. “For — for, like, feeling that you could trust me with this.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Hannah replies. “I mean, like, we — we are family now, aren’t we?”

“Absolutely,” I reply with a warm smile that my fellow Angel mirrors. “A — a better family.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Hannah whispers, before leaning in and giving me a gentle hug, which I of course reciprocate. “Let’s not tell the producers or anyone ‘Coviddy’ we did this, okay?”

“Sure,” I whisper, my warm smile turning into a grin as we emerge from the ladies’ room and head back to our seats — something my mentor quickly picks up on.

“So…” Kelly teases, not even bothering to hide the smirk on her face. “Did you and Hannah talk it out?”

“Good guess,” I reply, giggling as Kelly grins widely.

“I knew you were the right woman for the job,” my mentor says with a smug voice. “And this is going to be one of the best seasons yet of our — OUR — show!”

“Thanks,” I whisper. “It — it’s nice to know where you’re from, but — but where you’re going is far more important, I guess.”

“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” Kelly whispers even as my thoughts yet again turn to my family — or rather, my biological family. My ‘former’ family.

Even though they claim to have completely disowned me, a part of me still believes that someone, whether it’s James, Arabella or even my parents, will still watch the show that I’m recording at this very moment. They’ll see me in my skirt and my make-up. They’ll see me tonight in the designer dress and shoes I’ll be wearing to Hannah’s party. They’ll see me three and a half weeks from now in a very skimpy and extravagant costume at the annual Angels’ Halloween party, Covid permitting. And they’ll tut and sneer and act like they’re better than everyone else, just as they’ve done their entire lives, just like they did when my oldest brother came out. And I couldn’t care less.

Sat around this table right now are eight of the best sisters I could ever have asked for. They’re from all walks of life, different socioeconomic backgrounds, different ethnic backgrounds, and obviously different LGBT+ backgrounds. And yet all of them don’t just preach a lifestyle of tolerance, understanding and love, they genuinely live it too. Hannah is the perfect example of this — she could easily have been the so-called ‘alpha female’ I saw so many of while growing up, which includes my sister. And yet in the privacy of the ladies’ room, away from the cameras, she was just as kind and empathetic as she always comes across on screen. Never mind entertainment, my family could derive a lot of education from the Angels’ show — OUR show. If they had, maybe they wouldn’t have been so quick to disown me. Or my oldest brother, wherever he is — and I can’t help but wonder if he’ll watch the show either.

And of course, the same applies for Dina Black, too….