Camping ~ a Joel Dommett FanFiction

OVERWHELMED

"Breathe in... And out..." I steady myself in front of my slightly chipped mirror. Self-consciously, I smooth my shirt dress down before changing the part in my hair for the one millionth time. To the centre? The right? God knows. I end up letting it flop messily over the left shaved side. Running my fingers through my mass of dirty blonde hair, I remind myself of how brave I am. I'm doing it. I'm doing it.

I may have tripled shampooed my hair this morning to prepare myself, I'm actually dreading how greasy it will get.

I look around the lonely hotel room. The bed has been made, the full rucksack lying innocently on top of the silver sheets, my phone is charged fully and the last blog entry has been uploaded. I'm ready to go, but I can't physically get myself to leave the room. I'm not ready. Not ready.

What was I thinking? Why did I accept? I stress as I pace back and forth, the curtains swaying due to the slight breeze. I'm not ready for this.

Two minutes. I have two minutes until I have to be in the car and on my way. Quickly, I check to see if the tap is off as well as all the plug sockets. I'm slightly weird about things like that. I rummage through the rucksack, have I packed tampons? Did I pack the nice pink bra with the lace at the top? Yes. You're ready.

Time to go.

No. Not yet. What if no one likes me? What if I don't get on with anyone?

What if I get hurt? What if I die? No. You're not going to die. Calm down.

One minute.

Look in the mirror, turn off the light, pick up the rucksack, phone in your pocket. Go.

It's all one huge blur, the car, the helicopter. I keep being reminded that there are cameras on me, which only increases my anxiety. I cannot really recall the helicopter, I was too busy picking at my nails and looking down at my blank phone screen before my phone was ripped away from me.

The helicopter stops. I'm here.

I stand up, clambering out of the vehicle, flattening my red shirt dress down once more. Do I look flat chested in this? Did I shave my legs!?

I steady myself, taking my five foot frame up towards a hut where many crew stand, holding a change of clothes for me.

When asked to do the show, I was shocked as all hell. I haven't been in the acting industry long, and I didn't think anyone even cared about me. I've been writing a blog too since I was seventeen, or eighteen? No seventeen, it mainly focuses on nerd culture.

Take the clothes.

The cameras are immediately on me, luckily my hair flops over my face like a curtain, shielding me from the flashing lights. What am I doing.

Walking into something where everyone else is already aquatinted is really awkward and difficult for me. It's like being the new kid in class again. I guess I could think of it like I haven't been in the jungle as long as other people meaning I will probably smell the best out of all of them. Positive thinking for once.

I look at myself in a different mirror, this one is surprisingly less chipped than the one in the hotel room. I look plain.

I strip the little makeup I have on off of my face and pull out my earrings. I have two piercing in the lobes of both ears, next to each other. It was an impulse thing.

I fold up my shirt dress before pulling on the basic camp clothes, red shorts, red tank top covered by a cargo button down, some clunky mud coloured walking boots and sombrero thingy to shield my head. Not forgetting taking several bandanas from the small wicker basket to my right.