Seventeen-year old first year college student Josie Clarke would prefer not to blush the colour crimson at every little thing, but Idiopathic Craniofacial Erythema, a chronic facial condition doesn't play fair.
In fact, it's as uncontrollable...
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"Is this the last of everything?" Linda calls out, holding the car boot open.
Max swings his guitar case over one shoulder and nods. "That's all of it, yeah."
Linda shuts the boot and jangles her keys. "I've got to go get on with some work, but I'll be back this afternoon."
"You'd better be! We've reserved seats for you so you can watch when we're crowned winners!" Mel says, dragging a mini amp over to the curb as we gather all our gear out the front of the college entrance.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Linda replies, casting her gaze over to me. "Are you're parent's coming Josie?"
"Yes"
"Well, I look forward to meeting them," she says, winking over at Max, whose begun to walk away with leads wrapped round is arms like coiled black snakes. "And good luck, all of you! Rock on!"
Mel buries her head in her hands and acts embarrassed whilst Libby reaches out and catches Linda's enthusiastic high five.
"Come on guys, let's get this show on the road."
I follow behind and wave Linda off, thanking her for the lift over and lending us her six-seater to cram all our equipment into for today's show, though I hope she doesn't notice just how shaky my hand is.
All morning and all the way here I've hoped that no one has, which is highly unlikely. Unfortunately, but as expected the nerves about this big day have their claws in deep and won't let up. Not even for a minute.
"Where do we need to take all this stuff?" Mel asks Max as we navigate empty college halls because not only is it D-day, talent show wise, it's also the last day here for all students at Southbrook.
The summer break starts now, and I should be as excited as the few students still milling about near the cafeteria, throwing jelly beans and binning old mock exam papers and sketchbooks, but I can't. Not when I'm this nervous.
With one hand, Max gestures for Mel and Libby to continue following him and I pull back the doors of the main music room where we've been instructed to store all of our gear before the show.
There's no turning back now.
"I was kind of hoping that we'd be the only band..." Libby says dryly, as we take in the room and all the students huddled into every corner. Most are too busy setting up drum kits and tuning guitars to notice that we've come to join the party.
I watch as Max casts his eyes to the furthest corner and a wall lined with shiny, expensive guitars and amps.
Mel begins to cast her own judgements about the rest of the competition as she rests her arms on top of her bass case. "I wouldn't be too worried if I were you."
