"Okay guys, welcome to the xfactor studios, you're very lucky to be here, please remember that. We don't tolerate slackers and un-appreciative members. You've been warned", asserts a stern, ageing woman in what seems to be a juicy couture, matching orange tracksuit and sparkly silver uggs. Devastatingly un co-ordinated for our "Team authoritive : Julie" as so it states on her badge.
I glance around at the rest - a group of young, primarily female dancers. Everyone looked rather star struck, maybe it was this foul creature before us but to be honest, I'm sure we were all just nervous. I was particularly nervous. Training, auditioning and practising for 3 years has all come down to this: being one in 25 of the 2012 xfactor dancers. And I was un-conditionally excited.
"You come to me with any problems and issues. If they're not brought up, I will do nothing about it. We're all sophisticated employees now, I don't expect you to behave in a childish manor" she scanned us with stern, drooping eyes. I couldn't then help but notice her awkwardly pencilled on eyebrows which assumed every facial expression of hers was angry.
"Now, head down these steps" as her brows lead the direction "and meet Melanie my executive. She will mentor you from here until tomorrow morning. You must be up and in the main hall for 8am sharp. I expect you all to be there on time or there will be consequences."
Her face created an eerie smile "ok, you may be dismissed".
What is this, a boarding school or the magic that seemed to be show business?
The stairs led us through nauseatingly small hallways with identical black doors either side until we came to a wide clearing welcomed by a grinning brunette, who I assumed was Melanie. She enthusiastically positioned herself in the middle of our group.
We went through security checks, rules, timings and bedroom arrangements.
I'm sharing a 9th floor room consisting of 2 other girls – Tillie and Melissa.
They're both extremely gorgeous.
Tillie with long sleek black hair, piercing brown eyes and Merissa with short waved blonde hair and blue eyes.
It's rather ironic really as I have medium curly brown hair and green eyes which makes us all unique.
None the less, they're both so lovely and social, I'm sure we'll get along.
I was curious to explore this new found home of ours, so excused myself from the bedroom and explored the rest of the hotel. Apparently floors 13+ are reserved for A-list celebrities, so is out of bounds. But that doesn't mean I can't explore floor 10-12 right?
The elevator is spacious and explicitly clean with surrounding mirrors, I press a golden button entitled floor 10 as it shoots upwards and arrives within seconds.
To my distress, the floor is identical to ours, must be for the male dancers I suppose. I'll come back to that...
So jam the button for floor 11.
The doors open, presenting a sleek hallway with double doored rooms and exotic plants lining the walls. This is definitely not for the dancers.
Maybe presenters, like Olly Murs? Oh my, don't get ahead of yourself Frankie. I always build things up to be extravagant and then it all tumbles down.
Instead I decide to step out into the wonderland hallway and towards the end, finished by an ostentatious little balcony.
The brutally cold air pierces my exposed skin, I would surrender back into the warmth but it's so beautiful.
Colours of green, blue, pink and yellow in forms of flowers, trees and bushes present themselves to me.
The sound of a busy London street echo's in the background but wild insects buzz through the air, able for me to hear. I explore the garden before me and enter what seems to be an abandoned green house as most of the plant life is over grown yet still splendidly beautiful. Then in the distance I spot a spiralling, iron staircase which hurdles out through the top of the green house.
My prurience gets the better of me so I have to explore it.
It spirals so high, I'm anxious it has no end, but I still climb staring at my feet, careful not to trip up or fall back.
Suddenly, I bellow into a figure in front and lapse out a cry of fright.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry", my heart pounding at the unexpected shock, still staring at my feet.
"No, no, it's my fault for standing at the opening of a staircase. Only I've never met another person here before" a deep, charming male voice answers me.
I look up anxiously. A smouldering, curly chocolate haired boy with oozing dark eyes and a melting, dimpled grin stares back at me.
I must be drooling like a love struck school girl by the look of worry on his face.
He uses his finger to lift my face up to his. "Are you okay?" he asks apprehensively.
I stutter "uh, yeh." I pause "I'm just a little shocked that's all. I was in my own world you could say".
"Well I'm sorry to have interrupted you" he laughs slightly.
I smile back, shyly.
"So, I'm George Shelley. You mustn't be a contestant, or I would've met you already? Am I wrong?"
"No, you're right. I'm Frankie, a dancer." I put a hand out with a smile, "nice to meet you."
His soft and agile hand grips mine.
"It's nice to meet you too".