I hope you'll all indulge my reposting my story in revised form:


MELISSA

Myths develop like pearls.  They become embellished with retelling until they no longer resemble the grains of truth that started them.  It's certainly so with my story.  Perhaps more so than with some, because mine had already matured and fragmented into different versions many generations ago.

My childhood could hardly have been happier or more fortunate.
As the youngest of three sisters and something of a late lamb, I always had someone attending to my every whim.  That's what everyone said, anyway, and I have no reason to doubt it.  I was doted upon.

Dad ran a shipping company when that still implied vessels crossing oceans with cargo.  His wharfside office provided endless opportunities for a pretty little girl with a mop of unruly red hair to play hide-and-seek, splash paint onto crates, or learn to knot and splice.  We had a house with a garden not far from the docks, but I preferred being fussed over by his clerks and their assistants and by the fishermen with whom I shared tea while we mended their nets and baskets.

I was not quite eleven when Mr Nepton first strode into the office as though he owned it.  Finely tailored clothes advertised his wealth and fit over a frame that showed he hadn't inherited it.  Arms like thighs waved hands like paddles.  His sausage fingers were soft and wrinkly, but had obviously once worked hard for every penny.  More than a few of those pennies had been traded for the gold hoops that weighed down his earlobes and the chains tangled in the coarse hair that sprouted from his collar.  His silvering queue and beard were fastened with more gold.  Inky eyes acknowledged nobody between him and the stairs leading to the mezzanine balcony.  Two leaps and as many hauls brought him to the top, to Dad's desk, onto which he flung a banker's note as if it were a sack of gold coin.  Everyone downstairs suddenly had work to do.

It was the same on each of the many times he darkened the doorway to conduct his business.  Until I was twelve.  He may have intended to see Dad again, but those black pits of eyes had spotted me first, lounging in a coil of hawsers.  Those boots had tacked away from the office.  One terrifying hand had plucked me out of my nest.  The other that flung my doll aside had made it clear I wasn't being asked to comply.

I didn't feel pretty after that.  That's the first speck of grit in the tale.  I resisted becoming a young lady.  I avoided the well-intentioned ministrations of my sisters who'd begun practising the feminine arts.  Unlike theirs, my hair defied all efforts to brush out the tangles until it was clear that my curls could never be restored to their former glory.  I left my braids to mat, and my skin to sallow until even my pimples had pimples.  My smile vanished too as my eyes darkened and my teeth came in crooked.  Despite their and Mom's best efforts, if I couldn't avoid attending my first ball, it would be in mousy grey gunny, not bright satin and lace.
I looked cadaverous.  I preferred it that way.

I actually burst out laughing seeing Percy trying to look dignified the first time he rapped on our door.  He seemed the last person my family would have turned to in their quest for a miracle.  I'd been lectured, blessed, incanted and prayed over.  Bled, prodded and poked.  I'd been subjected to the best efforts of herbalists, apothecaries, surgeons, physicians, and even a priest to exorcise my demons.  Vile potions, acrid smoke, holy water or leeches -- nothing delivered what they all prayed for.  Their little girl had been replaced by a fang-toothed goblin, and it seemed that nothing and nobody could return their daughter and sister to them again.

He looked barely older than I was, twice my height, half my weight and clinging to his ornate walking staff to avoid being blown away by the breeze that teased his trouser legs.  He looked ridiculously adorable in his battered hat, threadbare topcoat and shirt that looked several sizes too big.  He seemed as antithetical to masculinity as I was to femininity.  I was wrong, as it happens, but that immediate impression led to my agreeing to one more pointless examination before Mom resorted to trephination.

Dad had no trouble with his surname, and pronounced it correctly the first time he said it.  It might have been because Dad had several Greek clients.  It might also have been that he'd treated Dad with the respect of equals rather than as a wealthy prospective customer.  Dad had no hesitation sending Percival Asclepiades upstairs with Mom and me.

"Helping you regain your confidence will take time," he said when we'd reconvened downstairs again to hear what he had to say.  This was when the family and anyone else who happened to be visiting usually gathered for a bit of light entertainment.  Nobody sniggered at Percy.  He was the first healer who'd ever addressed me rather than the person he'd hoped would pay him.  "If you allow me, there are several things I can do, but it will mostly be time that will do the work while we're busy."
"What will it cost?" Dad asked.
"A dance with the most beautiful young lady in the land."  He'd turned to address me again.  "... but only when she feels ready."  I already felt ready.  "Do you have a veil or maybe a wig?  We'll have to start by shaving off those ropes.  Your hair is such a pretty colour.  And you have such a beautiful smile."
"... just a pity she never uses it," Mom said.  It was true that my natural expression had settled into a scowl that hid my teeth from view.  On a scale of nought to vampire, they were around werewolf.
"She will, Missus George.  All in good time.  We know bone's alive because it knits after being broken.  It can be reshaped as well.  Cleopatra's beauty didn't come easily either."

My skin healed quickly, most likely from our walks around the village.  One or other of my sisters would chaperone us at first, but they soon had better things to do and we never went beyond earshot anyway.  I knew I wouldn't need to call out, or even want to.  Everything else took time.  Lots of time.  When we weren't walking, I wrote countless letters that he burned without reading them.  I sang to his accompaniment on the flute and I read him poems as best I could while wearing the ivory splint he'd so painstakingly fashioned and then repeatedly refashioned and refastened again to my teeth with catgut.  I pinched my teeth whenever he removed it until they and my fingers and thumbs ached equally, then scrubbed them with his powders before he tied it in again.  It did take a long time, it was painful, and the results were imperfect apart from learning the worth of my smile.

Percy earned far more than a dance.  He's the love of my life.  And afterlife.  And we both laugh at the myth.  The only bronze mirror was the one he had me use.  Unlike other men, he was never afraid to look at me.  My head remains firmly on my neck.  Of his hundreds of sketches, the only one that had showed my snake-like elflocks had been consigned to the fire with them.  I never did regain the fiery curls of my youth, but I did grow a strawberry-blonde mane.  Percy never minded its fading into dawn clouds as we aged.  By then, he really had begun to rely on his staff, and we'd had a similar one made for me.  The spiral on mine wasn't as clearly defined as the snake that climbed his.

Oh, and as for my name -- it's Melissa.  Melissa George, although my name in the myth does reflect well the way I must have mumbled through his remarkable contraption.

-------------------------

Great job

I don't know how much this will help other writers.

I use Google Docs when I write and have the Grammarly add-on installed and running.

I write my stories in chapters and make any changes I need to make as I am writing. When the chapter is how I want it to be, I load it into Grammarly and edit it.

If I feel I can improve it, I do it at this point, but I only make minor changes to make it clearer what I want to say.

Once I post it, I leave it alone, other than to go back if I need to verify something I have written.

I have never written a story I am 100 percent satisfied with. I know I can do better and try to get better with each story I write. I don't write to satisfy the people who read my stories, I write stories I want to read myself.

I don't try and write the perfect story, I just try to write a better story than the last one I wrote.

I have to be honest... I've fallen out of love with writing stories for here in particular, although I still turn my hand elsewhere. I write for fun, for pleasure, to de-stress, and sometimes, writing for here now feels like you're putting yourself up to the editing panel of HarperCollins. Without singling out anyone in particular, some of the feedback above just reinforces that for me.

Like others, I struggle to write a short story because I like adjectives - I want the reader to be able to imagine the same scene that I am. I'm also writing a story for a specific interest - I like braces forward, and I like the story complete -redactions for explicit content (explicit erotica doesn't do it for me of any sort) leaving a Swiss cheese story, yet jumping on anyone who dares put in a strict stepparent. And thats before we get to the fact your work gets edited and put somewhere else. Writing for here has just become... Too much hassle?

But hey, that's just me and my opinion. I may well be an outlier, and good old braces forward, shove in the metal and deal with it stories are up there with video recorders and leaded petrol as old hat. So tempted though I was... I'll pass.

I'm usually drawn to these little exercises where lots of people create a story from the same original idea or theme.  I remember once I went to an amateur writer's gathering where they had us write a scene according to a theme they gave and then they had two professional actors read the lines from your scene.  Gosh would that ever be cool if it was braces themed and they somehow came up with real props for the scenes.

Snakes and Ladders by m1090y

At Sigma Ampersand Lambda, the sorority house near the University campus, the occupants would normally play a game of Snakes and Ladders on a Thursday evening as they were waiting for the party to get going but for the pretty girl Surpendia the game would seem to be a model for her life that semester.  One particular evening, even before the first move, Surpendia declared to the group, "My Dad just got insurance through his work and it will cover a treatment for my jaw pain!  I get a device next week."

Gary looked at her pretty smile as he made the first move and thought how unfortunate it was that a girl with a naturally beautiful smile had jaw pain.  Now she would have to wear something to treat her jaw just like a person with crooked teeth might have to wear braces to straighten them, except her smile did not look like it had to be repaired.  Surpendia's glee continued as she landed on a fairly long ladder and seemed to be reaching quite high on the board, only to lose even more ground with the next move which brought her all the way back to the bottom.

The following Thursday as the group commenced play again, the other guy in the sorority, Laddermer, made the first move while asking the quiet and pensive-looking Surpendia how her jaw treatment was doing.  As she made her first move she said, "I had hoped it would be an injection or even a minor operation, but I have to wear this thing in my mouth for the whole semester!"  The group could see a silver bar across her teeth as she talked and could hear a different sound in her voice.  She pulled a clear piece of acrylic from her mouth and held it out.

Gary said, "Oh gosh, that's like retainers we got in middle school after our braces came off.  Is that all it's going to take to tackle your jaw pain?  No surgery or wiring the jaw shut or anything?  Wow, did you ever get it easy!"  Surpendia had only seen the downside of the solution:  She'd have to talk a bit funny, keep taking it out to eat, spend as long cleaning it as she did her teeth, and show an embarrassing wire across her pretty smile to everyone she talked to.

Laddermer added, "And it makes your smile kind of cute in the process of curing that jaw pain.  The nice thing about that thing is that you can take it out for photos and stuff."  One of the other girls around the coffee table agreed and assured Surpendia that she had gotten off quite easy.  Surpendia's mood improved and she started smiling more during the game, even when she landed on a snake several times and finally lost the game.

With her pain seeming a little easier, she spent the next couple of weeks feeling optimistic – at least until at an appointment to review the treatment.  The technician explained to her that the progress so far was great in opening her bite as she was wearing the appliance all the time so she was ready to get to the next step already.  He inserted some bits between her back teeth on the Friday and she would have to go back the following Monday for more.  That weekend the pain from the bits was more than her original jaw pain.  It was subsiding by her appointment Monday where they put some silver things on her back teeth which she could not take out.  She was thankful they did not show but disappointed that they still wanted her wearing the silver bar across her front teeth.  As she was leaving, she was asked to come back Thursday for the last bit, which she had not been able to fully understand previously due to the doctor's strong accent.  She was prepared to miss the Snakes and Ladders game that week when she went to that Thursday appointment, especially when she found the waiting room crowded and it was so late in the afternoon.  She soon realized that the couple of patients with appointments had families along and so the room soon emptied and it was her turn.

She sat back in the chair, watching the national Snakes and Ladders championships on the little TV mounted in the ceiling above her.  When the doctor came in, she did not bother to ask what he would be doing that day, as she always had so much trouble with his accent.  He noticed her attention to the TV and did not say any more than when to open and close.  He seemed to be messing with some instruments, sometimes in her mouth and sometimes out of it, then finally he instructed her as he left one in her mouth and put something behind her neck, under her hair, handing her a mirror to hold, that she still needed to wear the acrylic part all the time.  She froze as she looked at herself in the little mirror.  She was wearing orthodontic headgear!  This would be way too embarrassing to wear around campus!  It would almost be easier just suffering with jaw pain than being seen in this.  He went on to tell her that she would have to wear it for short periods for the first few days and then she must wear it every night, all night in bed.  Her heart lifted a lot upon understanding that:  She would not be wearing this dreadful device around campus, in fact not even around Sigma Ampersand Lambda.  This good news allowed her to pay attention as the doctor showed her how to remove it and then put it back in again, and how to attach the strap around the back of her neck.

A pamphlet she took home with her new headgear suggested she should wear the headgear at first only an hour at a time, working up to more until she could wear it all night.  She understood it to be telling her that she could not just start by putting it in at bed time and waking up to remove it when it hurt.  Apparently she had to wear it while awake and out of bed and then after she could tolerate it for long enough periods, she could get used to sleeping in it.  But as Surpendia ran through her evening in her mind, she realized the only time she could wear it that evening was during the Snakes and Ladders game.  She certainly did not want to wear it later when they had their party and all the students swarmed their sorority house.  But wearing it in front of the others in the sorority was going to be demeaning enough!

Surpendia actually got home fifteen minutes before the game was to start, so was grateful to fate that she did not have to miss that week's game, although on the flip side, she was still terrified of revealing the fate of her appointments that week to her sorority sisters and brothers.  She went to her room to change into something comfortable and also to get that damn headgear put in.  She found it fairly easy to put in using the bathroom mirror; however she realized that having to use a mirror in the bathroom and then walk back to her bedroom, would mean that frequently one of the others in the house would see her walking back.  She spent a few minutes and soon found she could feel the ends of the thing into the tubes without using the mirror.  She did, in this case, leave it in as she was about to go down to the Snakes and Ladders game.  She brushed her hair into a casual, loose style.  She felt this would at least hide much of the strap, even if it left two giant bars running up her cheeks.  Jada, one of the others in the house, was just approaching the top of the stairs as Surpendia came out of the bathroom.  Jada stopped and took in a big breath and said, "My god!  What did they do to you?  You need *THAT* to treat your pain in your jaw?  It looks like the treatment is worse than the malady."

Surpendia let out a huff and dipped her head, saying, "Should I maybe just skip the game this week?  I'm feeling really stupid in this contraption."

Jada smiled and said, "I'm sorry.  My bad.  I reacted before thinking.  You must feel really awful.  Um, no.  I think you should get used to that in front of a small group that you are comfortable around, rather than people you are not this close to."

They walked down the stairs to the place the game was to be played and the rest of the house watched up the stairs in wonder as a house-mate strapped up in headgear followed the second last contestant.  After she sat down it was Laddermer that spoke.  He said, "Surpendia, I admire you for taking control of your pain problem.  That headgear looks pretty cool on you, compared to how all the others in middle school looked.  Maybe they would have done better to wait until they were adults to get them."  Surpendia thanked him for his consideration of her feelings.  He continued, "I really like the way the front hugs your lower lip and lets it touch the upper, rather than going between them, and it is almost stylish the way the whiskers slant up your cheeks towards your ears.  That must be what makes it look cool on you.  And you still have that cute bar along your top teeth.  It's all pretty flashy if you ask me."  She had been turning a little red, but after he turned to start the game, she realized it was a relief to have someone mention it and to do so as considerately as he had done.  The others had taken a good look at her and then turned their attention to the game as it started.  After a few moves Laddermer brought up the subject of her headgear again.  "You know, Surpendia, these recent events in your jaw pain problem are a lot like this game.  Your Dad suddenly got insurance and you were at the top of the board with the finish line in sight; then you got the first stage of the treatment and it was not a simple injection or minor surgery and you slid half way back down a snake; but then you mentioned last week that the pain was actually reducing, running you back up a ladder to near the top row; after which they slap *THAT* on you and you slide down so far you aren't even at the starting point anymore."  He looked at the others and suggested, "Guys, I think we have to work together to try to make a very long ladder for Surpendia.  Look, thinking back to middle school, does anyone remember how one drinks a cocktail in one of those?  How about slow dancing or making out.  She *HAS* to enjoy the party tonight, despite how she feels wearing it around others."

Surpendia laughed and corrected him, "I will only have to wear it when I sleep, but for a week, I will be getting used to it in short spurts during the day.  I won't be able to wear it any longer than this game tonight without dying of the pain from it."  Laddermer seemed to be studying her but said nothing.

The Snakes and Ladders game that night went rather the way Laddermer described her treatment for her jaw, however once Surpendia had climbed back out of last big snake slide, she progressed relatively smoothly towards the finish line and although not the winner that week, she felt like she had accomplished something in wearing her headgear throughout the entire game.  Just before the people would start arriving for the party, she excused herself to go up to her room for a minute.  Her headgear was not only hurting her but would have to come off anyway and be stored in her locked room before anyone arrived.  As she was getting up from the couch, Laddermer got up also and seemed to be following her up the stairs as if going to his own room.  When she got to her door, he stopped and did not pass her to go on to his own.  He seemed to be searching for what he wanted to say and finally came out with, "So you will be wearing it all night by next week's game and won't have to wear it to play."

She looked at him in surprise and said, "Yeah, but why do you say that in such a disappointed way?"

He cleared his throat and said, "I guess I used to try hard to find the girls wearing them in middle school to be attractive as I was just developing into a man, but now all these stupid feelings from back then are flooding back.  Now I'm seeing a girl who really, really rocks headgear and I only get to see it for one evening."

Surpendia had kind of fancied Laddermer but never tried to entice him because they shared the house, but now it appeared she was enticing him without trying.  Perhaps it was the building pain resulting in her eagerness to get into her room and get the headgear off her face and into her drawer, but she threw out, "Well, maybe we need to study together tomorrow after school.  Are you around this weekend?"  He suddenly cleared his throat and confirmed that he was now and that he would tell his parents he was not coming home that weekend.  Surpendia, it seemed, now had a funny kind of date the next night.

And while he did talk to her a lot during the party, she did manage to chat with some of the other party-goers that night.  That evening, she realized she would get less studying done than usual, but she was okay with that.  The two of them studied until it was time to go to bed and Surpendia was rather impressed how she could keep the headgear in longer when a guy was distracting her.  But it was Saturday afternoon when she tried to do a four hour period of wear with a break before the same for the evening, that Laddermer made it clear he was looking to get closer than just study-buddies.

"Surpen," he shortened her name, "After tonight you'll maybe be able to wear it all night tomorrow night.  So will that be the end of any daytime wear?"  She got him to clarify what he was talking about and then agreed, after which he begged, "I know this is only kind of a second date, but I want so badly to kiss you with headgear."

And no joking, 2500 words put me exactly to that point in the story, even at the end of a sentence!

Charlie, I appreciate you sharing both versions. I always like to see the process when it comes to writing. Thanks for sharing about the program you use, it looks so useful but it seems it’s only for Windows as of right now those features seem so helpful for a longer piece! So the snakes are her hair, and the ladders… are her climbing up out of her awkward adolescence? Maybe? Anyway, it’s a really nice short story, much better than I could do, so thank you very much for sharing.

Duncombec, I also struggle to write short stories. It’s not something that comes naturally to me. But I actually thought of something you’d written when I saw this prompt! If the definition of snakes and ladders is “a race to the top where the winner is determined by chance” it makes me think of your Halloween story where all the contestants won different ortho treatments and was hoping you would take this prompt and run with it, because it seemed like it would be your cup of tea

After reading the other stories that have been written for Sparky's challenge, particularly m1090y's, I got to thinking about a different version of Snakes and Ladders. 2444 words, close to the limit Sparky set.



Snakes And Ladders #2

By Braceface2015


It was just another one of those silly gameshows where people competed to win prizes by making it through a maze. I’d worked on quite a few sets in a variety of positions, working my way up from the bottom to the job I had just been hired to do as an assistant to the assistant of something-or-other.

The pay was okay and the person I was assisting had been where I was and wanted to help me learn what I needed to do. He didn’t mind when I asked questions, and most of the time I attended the meetings with him, staying in the background with the other assistants to the assistants of this-and-that.

I”d flirted with him a little and he’d been gentle with me when he told me I wasn’t his type. At first I’d thought it was because of my looks. I’d been blessed with her mother's tropical beauty and figure, and cursed with her father's British empire teeth. I’d seen the pictures of him when he was growing up before he was ‘blessed’ with NHS braces in school, so I knew where my teeth came from. My mother’s teeth weren’t straight either, which didn’t help.

I’d been a bit offended when he’d told me in a roundabout way that I needed to do something about my teeth if I wanted to move up the ladder any more, because I was at the point where my image was important. He’d eased the sting a little by saying I had a natural kind of beauty most of the other women were jealous of and tried so hard to match by using makeup. The one thing I didn’t have was the smile to go with my beauty, and I wouldn’t until my teeth were fixed.

The reason I wasn’t his type was rather simple, he was gay and it was obvious when I looked at the way he was always flirting with the new guys working on the set of the new game show. He simply wasn’t interested in the women throwing themselves at him.

The guys building the set were interested, and they were blatant with the looks they gave the other women around the set. I got my share of the looks, until I smiled at them. Then they were suddenly busy working.

The set they were working on was a life-size version of the game 'Snakes and Ladders' and had two levels. The lower level held the 'board' and the upper level had the bypass catwalks. Land on a ladder and the contestant avoided a pitfall challenge. Land on a snake and the contestant ran the risk of being eliminated from the game.

As more of the set came together, the staff began to challenge each other to try out each new section. The first few sections were easy. The ladders were made of wood and metal and were easy to climb. The snakes were ropes easy to grip and swing or hang from to cross a water or sand pit.

Each section became a little more complex. The ladders were made from rope and chain and became straight up and down. The snakes were harder to grasp and had sections with substances to interfere with the contestant's grip, such as soap, grease and baby oil.

The competition among the crew fell into two categories, the guys seeing who was masculine enough to make it through, and the women doing it to get the attention of the guys watching.

My dad was in the military and I grew up on a succession of military bases around the world, and the training courses on the bases put this to shame. I didn't look like it, but I had more training and muscles as a result of it. I was an army brat and spent far too much time on the obstacle courses as punishment.

The ladies I worked with weren't kind with the comments they made about the freak working with them, and it didn't take long for the snide remarks about me being afraid to break a nail or mess up my hair to begin.

I let them have their fun, falling off the ropes into the water so the guys could come to rescue them. I took it slow at the beginning of the course, not showing how easy it was for me. After spending the day in my office clothes, it was nice to get into my shorts and t-shirt and get a little exercise.

The ladies hated how much attention I was taking away from them, and the freak comments increased. I noticed there was one guy who always seemed to be around when I was on the set, and he didn't seem to mind my smile. It just made the ladies try harder to get his attention when I was around.

The final few obstacles were just about finished and the guys got into a competition to see who could do all of the snake challenges without failing any of them. The ladies all gathered around to cheer their favourite muscle-bound hunk on.

I figured it was time to do something about all the comments about how I must work so hard to look as good as I did and still scared away the guys. I waited until all the guys had tried the course at least once, then came out in my shortest shorts and barely-there, looks-like-it’s-painted-on t-shirt.

It really got the attention of the ladies when all the guys lined up to watch what the ladies thought would be a feeble attempt by me to make it through the course. For the first time, I didn't hold back and flew through the first half of the course, only slowing down slightly on the second half of the course when the ‘snakes’ became more challenging.

One of the ladies had started the clock running when I started, to try and embarrass me, and much to the ladies' dismay, my time was better than the fastest of the guys. A few of the ladies stomped away when the guys gathered around me and congratulated me on my time.




The producers of the show heard about my time and approached me with an offer. It turned out the guy who always hung out when I was on the course was related to one of them and he told them about me beating all the guys. They sent him to talk to me before they made the offer, to see if I was interested.

He had seen how the ladies treated me and wanted to set them in their place, so rather than just talk to me in my office, he waited until several of them were around to ask me to have lunch with him. It didn’t take long for the rumours to start flying. Before long, they had it sounding as if he was asking me out on a pity date.

While they were all gossiping, he sent me a note asking me to dress up for the lunch and said to wait for a surprise when he picked me up. Everyone had seen him driving around in an older slightly beat-up truck, definitely not something a person with money would drive. The look on the ladies' faces was priceless when he drove up in a high-end foreign sportscar and stepped out to open my door for me, wearing designer clothes.

The lunch didn’t go the way I expected. Maybe I had been listening to too many rumours. He took me to a nice upper-market place and didn’t just dive right into the offer they had for me. We had a nice meal first and talked about other things not directly connected to the new gameshow, but stuff we both had an interest in.

The dessert cart came around before he finally put the written offer on the table for me to read. Most of it was in legal language, spelling out who was offered what and for how long and at what price. He waited until I had a glazed look on my face to tell me to get a lawyer to go over it before I signed it.

He’d been looking at me as we ate and not just at my teeth, though he did seem to be interested in how they looked. He told me to set the contract aside for the time being and let him summarize what it said. As he began explaining it, it got interesting.

The original plan for the gameshow was to have people compete for prizes and money. After my thrashing of all the guys, they decided to alter the game a little to make it more interesting. They wanted me to compete in the game as a guest champion. Anyone who made it through the course successfully would have to beat me to win the grand prize.

They didn’t want to just have me show up if someone made it through successfully, they wanted me to do a quick walk-through of the game at the beginning of each episode. They would provide me with clothes for the entire season and uniforms for when I would compete with the winner. And the amount of money they were offering was quite generous, and there were bonus clauses if a variety of things happened.

There was one clause that the whole contract hinged on, I had to get braces to fix my teeth. They could use camera angles to hide my teeth some of the time, and I didn’t have to say anything where the camera could capture my mouth, but there was a limit to how much they could hide my teeth. I was supposed to be the face of the show, and my looks mattered to them.

I wasn’t as upset as he expected me to be. My teeth had been something I had lived with all my life and I knew how I looked. He was just barely into apologizing for having to bring my teeth up, when I smiled at him and told him not to worry. We had talked a little bit about our lives before the show and he knew why I was so good at the course. I explained how moving so often created a problem with anything beyond basic dental care. I also told him how my parents put more effort into getting us the best education possible, with the understanding we would be in a better position to fix our teeth with a well-paying job.

All through the conversation, he didn’t take his eyes off my face. He flinched a little as he asked the question he was dreading. “Are you willing to get braces to meet the conditions of the contract?”

When I didn’t walk away from the table, and smiled instead, he looked relieved. I told him to get out his pen, because I was about to make a few changes to the contract. My changes were fairly simple. I would agree to get the braces if they paid for them and I was the one to choose what I got after consulting with the orthodontist of my choice. It would be on company time and I would be paid a bonus if I followed through on getting the braces.

He looked relieved I hadn’t turned down the offer, and said he was sure they would accept the changes to the contract. Then he said he had one more thing to ask me, and it wasn’t part of the contract and I didn’t have to agree to it. He asked if he could help me find an orthodontist and take me to my appointments when I went to them.

I didn’t turn down his offer and asked to have time to think about it. What I really meant was I didn’t want to seem too eager to accept his offer to have him around me more. My mother didn’t raise a fool, I had a good-looking guy with money asking me if he could spend time with me. If it meant I was being paid for something I knew I needed, I was going to jump at the chance. It also meant I would have something the women at the show wanted and didn’t have.




I had a lawyer look over the contract with the changes I made, before I told him I would sign it. He took me out to dinner to celebrate and I signed both copies of the contract at the table with him watching. I also told him he would be driving me to all my orthodontist appointments, with a heavy emphasis on ALL.




He kept his side of the agreement. I signed in at the front gate before each appointment and then he drove me to the orthodontist's office. He never objected when I told the orthodontist I wanted my ‘driver’ in the room, and he told the orthodontist where to shove his objections when he started recording me getting my braces on.

He was pleased when I kissed him on the cheek after my appointment to get them on and 'accidentally' rubbed my brackets against his skin. When my teeth were sore after an appointment, there were always meals easy for me to eat, delivered to my office. The nice things didn't all come from him. After the first couple of appointments, he received a kiss, first on the cheek, and then a few appointments later, on the lips as well.

The show never did as well in the ratings as they hoped. I still got my bonuses as listed in the contract. I also got revenge on the ladies who were so mean. One by one, they were replaced and black-listed in the industry by my boyfriend. The show only lasted for one year, and then was cancelled.

My orthodontic treatment was fully paid for by the company, and my boyfriend got to enjoy seeing me wearing the face-bow, Herbst, and at my request, the older-style non-self-ligating braces. I figured if I was wearing braces, I might as well do it with pride and show them off. In each episode of the show, I had my ligatures matching the outfits I was wearing.

I wasn’t bothered when we decided to break up. He had found another girl with teeth as bad as mine used to be, and I had offers from other networks to work for them. Some even asked if I would be willing to keep the braces longer if they paid me. All I did was space out my appointments and let my orthodontist bill them for doing it.