Bonnie glances at herself in the reflection of her computer monitor as it fires up for the day. Her eyes are puffy after spending too many hours last night pathetically sobbing for a relationship that didn’t even get the chance to start. Her head aches with a dull hangover, her belly is bloated. She’d spent much of the night in the bath with a bottle of wine and a tub of ice-cream.

But today is a new day and she’s back at work, waiting for her first clients to show up for their newborn shoot.

She clicks on her emails to load when there’s a beep, beep from the street. Bonnie looks up to see Carla radically swerve in to park. She’s waving frantically from the driver’s seat.

Bonnie’s heart jumps into her throat. What’s happened? Is her mum all right? Carla’s kids? Her feet move fast, her head spinning as she runs out the door and onto the pavement.

Carla pushes open the driver’s door. The car is parked with its tail still sticking out on the street. She rushes around to Bonnie.

‘What is it?’ Fear is laced through her breath.

‘You got in.’ Carla’s breathless, her hair and makeup not done. Bonnie absentmindedly admires how beautiful she looks, unable to remember the last time she saw her sister not ‘done’. Her hair, makeup and clothes are always immaculate. Seeing Carla like this is oddly comforting. ‘What?’

‘I just logged into your email and you got in. They chose you as a contestant on The One.’

Bonnie’s head spins at this information, her thoughts colliding. But for some reason she asks, ‘How did you log into my email?’

Carla waves this away. ‘Your password has been the same for the last ten years.’

Bonnie really should stop using the same password for every account.

‘Hello? Why are you not screaming with excitement right now?’ Carla’s face is grinning wide, a stark contrast to her panicked arrival.

Is Carla right? Should she be shrieking with joy? The One producers want her? They want her on the show? Bonnie thinks back to her audition. She thought she’d failed epically. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes!’ Carla reaches for her phone and pulls up Bonnie’s email account. There’s a stack of emails. She hasn’t checked it since yesterday, before lunch with Paige. The idea that Carla can just log into her account at any time is certainly unsettling. ‘Look!’ Carla thrusts the email from The One under her nose.

Bonnie’s eyes scan the email. It’s true. She’s been selected as one of the final twenty-two girls to appear on the show.

Bonnie gulps. She can’t deny she isn’t a little bit flattered.

‘You have to let them know by Monday, then it’s pretty much pack your bags and you’re out of here.’

Out of here?