‘They’re all super excited to get their hands on you.’ I don’t like the sound of that. I’m hoping it’s just a Professor Merton turn of phrase. It better had be, because I promise you, if Brogan or Charlotte (I can only refer to them in their original gender,) attempt to lay a finger on me – I won’t be responsible for my actions!
Actually, that’s just angry talk – I HAVE to be responsible for my actions, I can’t risk our victory by losing my temper.
Deep breath!
I take deep breaths to calm and control myself while en-route to the ‘Fitting/make-over bus.’ Professor Merton keeps twittering like an excited girl, “Your team are the very best in the business, they’ve been responsible for some truly wonderful make-over’s…” she’s interrupted by the trill of her device. She looks at the screen and immediately slams it to her ear, “Hello…really…ah, maybe he has an underlying condition that’s already compromised his immune system. Anyway, he nor the girl are our priority. How is Troy responding?” I listen with interest; this is obviously the medic reporting her findings. It looks like The Kade’s doing a convincing job. I watch Merton’s face crack her weird smile (her teeth are too perfect and white for her brown wrinkled face.) “Splendid, absolutely splendid. He’s obviously a supremely fit young man, but then he has been bred from an exceptionally pure gene pool. Please remove Troy from the other two, I don’t want this Kade guy to in anyway compromise Troy’s recovery,” she says.
Merton looks at me, “It seems your handsome fiancé is recovering nicely, you’re so lucky to have such an eligible man genetically engineered specifically for you. No other girl in the world can lay claim to that fact,” she says.
“I know, it’s pretty awesome,” I say, with a forced smile.
The way I’m feeling right now I’m concerned about my ability to keep up the pretence. I mean, I won’t willfully blow it; I’m just worried I might let down my guard. It’s just that Kade is constantly in my head. I find my mind wandering back to the things he said when I should be concentrating hard on today’s events and convincing this team that I’m on side.
Maybe I was gay, or maybe the enforced sex change has ‘blurred’ my sexuality? I don’t know!
I don’t have to time to think about this now: I have to FOCUS!
I force myself to stay on track by engaging with Merton, “So which of these mighty fine vehicles is my dressing/make-over room?” I ask, as we approach the three mammoth busses. She looks at me with an irritated face, “It’s the middle one, I told you that on the video conference, do you not listen girl?” She snaps. “Oh, I just needed a gentle reminder, my minds constantly on Troy and our wedding at the moment, I can’t think of anything else – I’m just so EXCITED!” I accompany my exclamation with a full on, arms wide, head thrown back, Disney Princess spin around.
Shoot – that was a bit over the top – I see a sudden hint of suspicion in her eye, “Let me show you inside our observation hub,” she says, as we near the first bus.
…..
Inside, the intense bright light momentarily blinds me. Once my eyes adjust I note the space is sparse, sterile and gleaming, not unlike an operating theatre. In the centre, elevated on a podium is a large King Size bed; dressed with sparkling white silk bed linen. As my eyes search upwards, my heart lurches downwards when I see an array of cameras all positioned to capture every corner and crevice of the bed and space.
“This is your wedding night boudoir, we’ll ensure it’s scattered with freshly plucked rose petals before you and your husband enter. It’s so romantic, isn’t it?” She asks, running her hand across the soft silk.
