Flicking through a celebrity gossip magazine, Melissa Webb reclined back on a pink leather cushioned chair, waiting for the Senior Hair Stylist to become free.
Her appointment was supposed to be ten minutes ago, but Salon 404 seemed to be busier than the usual Thursday afternoon.
Cheerful pop music and chatter between the staff and clients filled the air, as Melissa looked at the articles of glamorous celebrities showing off their wealth and success. The pretty 22 year old brunette lived with her parents near the Essex town of Basildon, their modest semi-detached house was not a match for the impressive Hollywood mansions on the pages of the magazine.
Staring down at the magazine, Melissa smiled to herself as she started to daydream of how wonderful it would be to become famous, the beautiful dresses, designer shoes, parties, film premieres...
"Miss Webb, Miss Webb?"
Melissa's thoughts were suddenly disturbed by the voice of the Hair Salon's receptionist attempting to get her attention.
"Sorry to keep you waiting Miss Webb, we should be ready for you in a couple of minutes."
Melissa nodded and lifted her hand to brush her fringe away from her eyes. Placing the glossy magazine on the table in front of her, the young woman reached further forward and picked up a local newspaper.
The stories in the paper seemed to be dull and depressing, as Melissa turned page after page. She was about to put the newspaper back on the table as the football and sport sections were of no interest to her either, when she saw a page full of small adverts.
One in particular stood out. Melissa became more than a little excited inside as she read its words from the page.
-
FAME SEEKERS WANTED!
We are looking for contestants for a new live streamed TV game show where an international audience will see everything you have to offer in a chance to win some big prizes. 18+ only. Email photo and details, and we will respond to you.
-
Melissa glanced up and saw the Salon's receptionist walking towards her. Quickly, she pulled her iPhone from her handbag and took a picture of the advert.
Getting up, Melissa smiled again at the receptionist as she guided her towards her usual Stylist Mark's chair.
As she waited for him, Melissa looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes bright as her mind raced through the possibilities an appearance on TV could bring.
"Hi there Melissa," Mark rested his hand on the barbers chair, "What look are we thinking of today?"
****
Light rain splashed into the pavement, as Melissa opened the glass door of the Salon and waved goodbye to Mark.
Holding her handbag above her head to partially protect her new hairstyle from the rain, she moved as quickly as she could in an effort to avoid the small puddles now forming on the road.
Pressing the key button with her slender fingers, the indicator lamps of Melissa's pale blue Fiat 500 flashed as it unlocked. Pulling at the chrome door handle, she briskly got inside the small car, before putting her handbag on the passenger seat and closing the door shut.
Melissa reached inside her handbag to take out her mobile. She was still thinking of the newspaper advert, and how exciting it could be if she made it on the show.
She eagerly started to type out an email, saying how she had seen the advert and wanted to apply, and how it was her dream to appear on TV. Melissa looked down at the casual loose fitting top, leggings, and Adidas trainers she was wearing, deciding that despite her new hairstyle, a better picture was needed than just a simple in-car selfie.
Looking hurriedly through her old Instagram posts, Melissa saw a picture of herself looking fabulous in a dark coloured Pinghe neoprene dress that was taken at a friend's birthday party a few weeks ago, and she knew immediately that this was the one to attach to this important email.
Soon her index finger tapped 'Send' and the email was gone. Melissa smiled broadly to herself as the rain fell more heavily and ran down the blue car's windscreen. She hoped so much that this would be her big break at last.
Slowly driving away, Melissa decided to herself that she would keep quiet about the game show. She had previously completed application forms before for X-Factor, Big Brother, and a number of other television shows. After weeks of talking to her friends and family non-stop about them, she discovered each time that she had been turned down for every one.
After a short drive from the town centre, Melissa steered her Fiat onto the driveway of her home to where she could see her father Stephen was standing, holding open the front door with his body. As his daughter got out of her car he spoke to her sounding a little impatient, "You're back at last, come inside your mother is just getting dinner ready."
"Sorry Dad, I'm coming now." Melissa hugged her father as she passed, before making her way towards the kitchen. Sitting down at the dining table, she felt her iPhone vibrate. Looking at the screen she saw she had a new email.
Upon opening her inbox Melissa saw it was a reply to her earlier mail. Her heart beat quickened as she clicked on the message and started to read it.
-
Good Evening Melissa,
Thank you for your application to appear on 'Keep Your Eyes On The Prize!'
I am pleased to say that after considering your application we feel that you are just the ideal fame hungry and beautiful young woman, with the apparent required level of intelligence, that we have been looking for in this special one-off European edition of the show.
Please read the attached material release and other relevant documents, and then reply to this email as your agreement of these.
We will forward details of the filming location when we hear back from you.
Yours,
Kieran King,
Director and Presenter,
I.F.H. Productions.
-
Melissa wanted to scream and shout out loud in happiness at being selected. With her mind now completely caught up in the excitement of this amazing opportunity, she started to type a reply to the email, but was almost immediately interrupted by her mother placing a plate of potato mash, peas, and sausages in front of her onto the table.
"I wish you would stop playing with that phone of yours?" Her mother Gemma's voice quietened in volume as she stepped into the kitchen to retrieve another plate of food. Melissa resolved to stay silent about the show until after it was filmed. She giggled quietly a little to herself at thought of keeping her chance at fame a secret.
Melissa finished typing her reply and sent it just as her mother came back into the room and sat down. "Do put that thing down, just eat your food." Gemma gestured towards her daughter with a fork. "Have you been at work today Melissa?"
Her phone vibrated again as another email came through. "No mum, I was out of the office today. I went to, err, the Salon..."
Melissa's words tailed off as she picked up her iPhone and read the latest email. It simply stated that filming was starting at Saturday 8pm, the following night, and gave an address and postcode which sounded like some sort of business address.
Looking up, Melissa saw her mother shaking her head. Putting her phone down, Melissa picked up a fork and placed some of the mashed potato into her mouth.
****
Saturday afternoon soon came, and with her parents out shopping at Bluewater, and then meeting with friends, Melissa had the house to herself. Loud dance music echoed through her home as she came out of the bathroom, a white towel wrapped around her moist skin.
Wanting to look her very best for the show, Melissa had already decided what to wear. Glancing at the bed, laid out on it was the same black Pinghe pleated neoprene dress she wore in the picture she had sent. Next to the dress was her favourite matching black and grey lace detailed bra and panties, and a pair of dark coloured tights. Melissa's black peep-toed Michael Kors' high-heeled pumps sat next to the bed ready for her to put on.
Sitting in front of her mirror, Melissa carefully applied her make-up. Dark eye-shadow and bright red lipstick completed her look.
The front door of the semi-detached house opened, and finally Melissa was ready to go. She took one last look at herself in the hallway mirror. Her short black hair framed her pretty face, make-up immaculate, and the tight-fitted dress followed the curves of her young body perfectly. Its classy design had a high neck line, and it's pleated hemline was just below the knee.
Melissa's high heels clacked on the concrete as she walked towards her car. Getting into the little Fiat, butterfly's in Melissa's stomach grew as she knew she was now only less than an hour away from being on TV for the first time, a dream she had held so close since she was just a small girl.
Following the sat-nav instructions, Melissa drove her pale blue car away from Basildon, along the A127 and towards the East End of London. The address she had been given seemed to be in a large industrial estate near the river. The businesses Melissa drove past where closed and deserted on this dark Saturday evening. Doubt started to creep into her mind over if she was being led in the right direction, when suddenly her sat-nav spoke and said that she had reached the address.
Turning off the road, Melissa parked her Fiat next to a large white van which seemed to have foreign number plates. Switching off the engine, she looked up at the anonymous looking grey industrial unit and thought it hardly had the appearance of a television studio that she had been expecting. A pair of large roller shutter doors dominated most of its frontage, but Melissa noticed a smaller door within one of them.
Stepping out of her car, Melissa looked around before making her way to the door, nervously clutching her black tote handbag to her chest as she walked.
The small door opened just as Melissa approached. "Come on in Miss Webb, we have been expecting you." A strong American accent spoke the words unseen from behind the roller shutter.
Melissa ducked a little as she came through the doorway, before being greeted by a smiling man wearing a black tuxedo, crisp white shirt, and a black dickie-bow tie.
"Hi Melissa, I'm Kieren King!" He looked in his late 40's, clean shaven, with his greying black hair neatly combed.
