The Contest

17. Backstage

After the performance was over we were taken back stage to meet the line-up of celebrities, still dressed in their dazzling stage costumes. We proceeded slowly down the line, shaking hands and socialising briefly with each one.

Hugh was on fine form, oozing confidence and charisma, dishing out compliments as if they were going out of fashion.

Over a lingering handshake with a dancer in a skimpy, barely there, costume, he complimented her on her routine. “That was just awesome, you’re so fit,” he praised. She fluttered her false eyelashes like a demented butterfly, before offering to teach him some of her moves.

Next, it was one of the female singers. “I’m one of your biggest fans, you have such an amazing voice,” he enthused. She stuffed a piece of paper into his pocket, winking flirtatiously. “I’ll be honoured to sing for you, anytime.”

For the first time in my life I felt a stab of jealousy slice through me. I looped my arm possessively through Hugh’s sending out a clear, hands-off-he’s-with-me, message.

Tugging on his arm and casting a defiant stare in her direction, I said, “Hugh, we do have other people to meet.”

The celebrations continued during an ‘after show’ party, and so did the flirting.

A very attractive actress, wearing a cocktail dress that left very little to the imagination, approached him. “Oh Prince Hughchube, would you like to dance with me?”

“Maybe later,” he tactfully replied.

Then, a particularly pretty waitress who deliberately turned her back on me, began to fawn over him like an adoring puppy. “Let me get you another drink,” she offered, licking her lips seductively.

By now, I was seriously jealous, (I don’t mind admitting). He must have noticed, because he leaned towards me and whispered in my ear. “Eemay, don’t worry, I only have eyes for you.”

Reassured, we danced the night away becoming closer as the evening progressed. The room was throbbing with music and buzzing with people, but it was as if there were just the two of us in the room, completely absorbed in one another. I felt the pull of his magnetic personality, like a moth to a flame, unable to resist.

Before I knew it, the taxi had arrived to drive us back to the palace. It had been the most amazing evening, and on the journey back I fell asleep, my head resting comfortably against his arm.

“Eemay sweetheart, wake up we’re back.”

I opened my eyes, smiled and yawned.

“Thank you for a terrific evening,” he said.

“Yes, it’s been fantastic.”

We walked across the courtyard hand in hand. “Do you fancy a cup of coffee, we can always go down to the kitchen to make one?” I offered.

“If you don’t mind Eemay, I think I’ll just turn in, I’m really tired.”

Suddenly, I remembered the rose. “Oh Hugh, I must have left the rose you gave me in the taxi.”

“No you didn’t,” he said, proudly producing it from behind his back.

I took it from him gratefully. Now that the evening was over, the rose meant so much more to me than it had earlier.

He kissed my hand tenderly, before our eyes locked. “I would be honoured to become your Prince Charming, if you will have me.”

“Thank you Hugh, I’ve had a fabulous time and I really think we have something special, but it’s still early days.”

“Trust your instincts, Eemay. I know we are meant for each other.”

I lay on my bed absolutely exhausted but unable to sleep.

What I’m doing is just wrong. I can’t have them both but I can’t decide which one to choose. The dark horse of The Contest is most definitely Hugh, who I find irrestible and compelling. Whereas Scott is just so open and adorable.

If I choose Hugh, I know Scott would accept defeat with dignity, and would even wish us happiness for the future.

But if I choose Scott, I suspect Hugh would harbour a grudge, and want revenge. I’m a fighter myself and respect the fact that someone would want to fight for me, but I also admire a person who can accept defeat and move on.

My head throbbed. Unable to sleep, I restlessly tossed and turned desperately trying to think of a solution to my dilemma, eventually falling into a fitful sleep filled with weird and disturbing dreams.