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Behind them a screen lit up. On it the camera focused steadily on Helen, particularly on her low-cut bodysuit. Was this being filmed?!
‘Don’t you think she looks beautiful?’ A huge cheer erupted from the crowd. ‘Now obviously this isn’t my area of expertise but that skin, those, dare I say it, cheeks?’ They gestured towards Helen’s bottom to loud hoots from the crowd. ‘Oh my, my, my! So what’s your name?’
The mic swung uncomfortably towards Helen.
‘I’m Helen …’
‘A classic name … So Helen, can you do me a favour tonight? First of all, can you just tell the crowd that you are beautiful?!’ The crowd roared as Helen struggled back a lump in her throat.
‘Sure, I’m Helen and I’m beautiful.’ Helen could see Elle’s head was in her hands.
The cheering got louder still. Some of the sleeping people shuffled away, probably to the meditation tent.
‘Was that really so hard?’ The person batted their eyelids at her. ‘The problem, my lovely friends, is that we’re told day in and day out that we’re not beautiful. That if we don’t look like some perfect, preened, and undoubtedly heavily filtered picture on Instagram that we are somehow not worthy. And we are worthy!’ They held the mic up to the crowd. ‘Repeat after me! I am worthy.’
‘I am worthy,’ chanted the audience.
‘I am beautiful!’
‘I am beautiful!’ the crowd parroted back.
‘I am enough!’
‘I am enough!’ Was Helen saying this too? What had got into her?
Max Savage stepped into the front row and pointed at an imaginary wrist watch.
‘Helen darling, I fear our time on this stage is drawing to a close, before we depart, is there anything you’d like to say? Any love you feel like you want to share?’
I guess she could say something? Elle shrugged, her eyebrows two centimetres higher than they usually were.
‘Thank you …’
‘It’s Marty … or Martina depending on my mood …’
‘Thank you Marty. Well, first of all I want to thank everyone here today for being so … so … fabulous.’ The crowd cheered. ‘I also want to thank my best friend Elle for getting outside her comfort zone and coming with me to Ship/Wrecked; it’s already been an experience. I also want to thank Brody for the best last first date, I hope to see him again soon …’
‘Romance isn’t dead people!’ Marty grabbed Helen’s hand and lifted it up like she’d just won the Grand Prix. People were standing and clapping. Elle’s mouth was hanging open, as Helen wobbled off the stage. She looked nervously towards her armpits. Would sweat show through the bodysuit?
‘You don’t need me to tell you, you’ve got sweat patches.’ Elle shook out her hair.
‘I really don’t think he’s here …’
‘No shit,’ laughed Elle. ‘But seriously Helen, since when did you get such bigcajones?’
‘I don’t know … maybe it was your pep talk yesterday?’
‘Don’t forget to give Marty some credit too.’ Elle waved goodbye as they stumbled outside of the tent, blinking into the light.
Outside in the sunshine, Helen doled out wet wipes from the utility belt. ‘This thing is actually really useful.’
Elle’s eyes narrowed. ‘You know whatamiga? I was expecting you out here crying about not seeing Brody, and instead you’re talking ugly fashion accessories. This is real progress. Perhaps …’
‘I’m getting over him?’ Helen shrugged, and instead of that leaden feeling she expected in her stomach, she felt nothing. Well, she felt a little tired, and hungry, but the emotions she expected to find just weren’t there.
Elle stood on her tiptoes and waved her phone in the air. ‘Well that’s all good because I’ve just seen a story that Alice is down by the main stage …’
‘Where?! When?’
