Roses (A Ricky Wilson Fanfic)

Two

We arrived at the studio. When I said earlier that I was terrified, now I was even more scared. I was going to mess up. I knew it. Nothing ever went right for me. I was going to mess up.

We walked into the studios. I saw hundreds of people sat down talking. None of them seemed as nervous as me. They were lucky if they weren't nervous.

I followed a line of people going to get ready, leaving mum waiting.

I got changed into my knee length mint-coloured dress, and my silver-coloured flats. I then found a spare mirror, and began working on my makeup. Mum had surprised me with some new MAC eyeshadow and lipstick. They went perfectly with my dress. The glittery blue-green shade of the eyeshadow and the stark pink lipstick looked like they belonged with this dress. I used some of my well-loved Rimmel mascara as well. I know most people wear eye-liner as well, but having a lazy eye makes that really hard to put on.

People seem weird with me when I say I have a lazy eye. They think it means that one eye goes in a different direction - but it doesn't. Not always. It just means that I can't see much out of one of my eyes. I grew up wearing glasses all of the time - people used to make fun about how one eye looked so much bigger through one of the lenses. Then I realised that I could see without glasses, so now I only wear them when I'm tired. Most people don't even know that I have something wrong with one of my eyes.

I slipped my feet into my flats, and began to work on my hair. I had a hair cut a lot like Taylor Swifts - well, that's what a lot of people say anyway. It was medium length, dark blonde, with a side-fringe. It took me half an hour to cur it - my hair is just so thick - but the look afterwards was worth it. I looked completely different.

I reemerged from the contestant dressing rooms, feeling completely different form when I walked in. I felt more confident straight away. Of course I was still nervous, but now I felt like the rest of the crowd. I felt like I matched in. There was no better feeling to me than blending in. It's what I had to get used to at school - it's always better to blend in there than stand out.

'That new makeup really suits you.' Mum said, smiling.
I sat down next to her. 'Thanks.' I said.

I knew that what I looked like really didn't matter - the show is called The Voice for a reason. But I still wanted to look like I tried. I wanted to look like I made an effort. I wanted to look like I deserve this.

I knew that I didn't really deserve this chance compared to a lot of people. Some people were here for their second time. Some people were hear after applying year on year and never making it. And then there was just me. Applying and straight away getting onto the show. Having just a normal, boring life, that no-one cares about.

But I still wanted a chance to prove myself. I wanted a chance to show who I was, and what I could do.

'Hazel Jones?' A voice called out.

I stood up, and mum did too. Someone from the production team was stood at the other edge of the room with a doorway looking around.

We walked up to him.

'Hazel Jones?' He repeated, this time directed at me.
I nodded.
'Come through,' He said. 'This your mum?'
I nodded again. I seemed to have lost the function to speak.
The man waved for another person to come over. 'Take her to the relatives room while I show Hazel to the stage.' He said to him.
'Good luck.' Mum whispered.

I would need it.