Sabotage

Prologue 1 | Faye

A/N : As prologues are introductions to the story, they will be a little short. The real chapters will be a lot longer. Enjoy!

It arrived in the mail. A classic thick, creamy envelope with ink black swirly writing depicting two words on the front: Faye Laurel.

I had heard about these envelopes. They were legendary in the world of reality TV; being on the receiving end of one of these envelopes could catapult you to wealth and stardom. If you got one, soon everyone in the world would know your name. You'd be instantly famous.

That was why I hesitated to open it. I couldn't tear my eyes away from my name on the front of it, couldn't stop thinking about what it represented. I would never be anonymous again; I would never be unknown. Most of the eighteen year old girls I knew would be dying to be a household name, but I thought differently. I always had.

My face would soon be plastered across every screen. Afterwards, if I wanted to stand a chance of not being mobbed on the street, I would have to have plastic surgery. Change my face, change my name, change everything that made me me.

For the most part, that was more than okay with me. I'd never really been a big fan of Faye Laurel anyway, with her average-at-best looks, her lack of friends and her non-existent family. But I had been Faye Laurel for eighteen years, so it was only natural for me to hesitate.

Was I really sure I wanted to do this? Was it really worth it?

But ever since I'd first started watching Sabotage, I'd been obsessed with how the show operated. The media wouldn't shut up about the show for weeks after the latest series ended, yet the contestants never publicly talked about it. They all took part in the After Sabotage post-show special, which took place a week after the winner had been declared, before going off to embrace their new fame and careers. They never spoke about Sabotage again, and if they were asked questions about it, vague phrases such as 'great experience' and 'so much fun' were used.

I had always been curious about it - to me, it had just seemed strange. If I knew anything about TV and magazines, they would have been getting offers for interviews left right and centre, but never accepted them. I had always longed to know exactly why these fame-hungry, money-grabbing girls had steered clear of the most profitable area of being part of Sabotage.

Which is why I was going to find out what happened in between the two-hour episodes of Sabotage. I was going to compete in Sabotage and ensure I won, then release my full story as an exposé to every single magazine and newspaper that would take it. After getting as much money as I could out of it, I would reinvent myself. With a brand new identity, I'd head to America, leaving my crappy life and tragic backstory behind. I'd always wanted to live somewhere nice and sunny, like California. I would ride off into the sunset, live on my earnings until I got a decent job. I wouldn't look back.

I had everything figured out. I didn't want to be famous, and I didn't want to find out what happened to people who sold their story. I knew the number of an amazing plastic surgeon that, for the right price, was extremely discreet. I had the computer-generated photos of my new face he'd agreed to supply me with. I had fake birth certificates, school reports and outstanding GCSE and A-level results for my new identity, Rachel Montgomery. 'Rachel' had gotten in touch with a few colleges in California that would be happy to accept a highly intelligent English girl that was moving across the seas because of her father's new job.

I was completely prepared. All I needed to do was devote three weeks of my life to Sabotage. I might even enjoy it. And after that, it was goodbye Faye Laurel, hello Rachel Montgomery.

People always said that Sabotage players could do anything they wanted after they left. All I wanted to do was become someone else. Was that really so bad?

Taking a deep breath, I turned the envelope over. I would never set foot in this house again. I would never set foot in this town again. Sabotage would be Faye Laurel's last hurrah. But Faye had to die. Faye had to go. I didn't want to be her anymore; I wanted to be Rachel. And it came with the handy bonus of finding out Sabotage's secrets. I would finally put my curiosity to bed. For as long as other girls had obsessed about the player's hair and clothes, I'd obsessed about what went on behind the scenes, and I was finally going to find out.

It was the perfect way to kill two birds with one stone.

The time for hesitation, for last-second nerves, for any lingering doubts had passed. With a small smile curved across my face, I ripped open the letter.