KMC Forums - 'Untitled' by me

Right, so this is my story, if you have any ideas or anything please tell me!

~Chapter 1 ~

"Damn it!" was all I thought, "Damn it, another stupid pop up!" But this time it wasnt telling me I'd been the lucky millionth visitor to the site, or a little man in a suit telling me to take up car insurance with him. No, this time it seemed well. . . classy.
It kindly informed me in a softly curling, yet legible font, that a reality show had been organised for the internet. As I scanned down the elegant text, it went on to say that a Big Brother style show named 'Four Weeks' was planned, with 24 hour web cams capturing six volunteers every move.
The pop up said that the six volunteers (three men and three women) must be comfortable with cameras, and would live together in a countryside house, in an unspecified location, for four weeks.
Unlike other reality shows, noone was to be voted off, and as long as noone left the house, each person would win �200 000!
I could hardly believe it - how easy would it be to get that money?! Just sitting in some house for four weeks could send me to University in Australia and buy me a posh new flat! the possibilities sprinted through my mind, the outright winner being a Yamaha motorbike I'd been drooling ove only last week
Before I knew what had happened, I had clicked on a tiny link labelled 'more information'.
"Never click on pop ups, never click on pop ups!" I kicked myself. the last time I had clicked on a pop up was when I was about thirteen and the virus that followed wasnt pretty. But now I was nineteen - a pro with computers due to evenings spent in chatrooms and message boards. I wasnt stupid enough to click on any old pop up.
But clicked I had. I saw a dark blue screen loading, with white writing sprinkled over the top. Auditions were being hel at the local theatre (not to mention about fifty other locations across Britain, even some in America). There was an age limit though, eighteen to forty fivr year olds only. Well, thats fine for me I thought.
One thing puzzled me - my computer was showing a private connection to the site. There must have been some mistake, this was obviously an advertisement - open information. i dissmissed it to the back of my mind. My computer was forever broken and this must have been something to do with my PC.
******************
That Saturday afternoon I carefully chose my outfit, baggy jeans (creased, but I couldn't be bothered ironing) teamed with a plain black, shoulderless sweater. I scraped the chestnut, frizzy bombsite otherwise known as my hair into a messy ponytail. i hatd the way it danced along the line between being brown and being ginger. i attempted to fix some particularly unruly hairs that insisted they had to stick straight out, but in the end I gave up.
"Oh jeez, almost two already!" I quickly snatched up my bag, grabbed some lipgloss and fell over trying to put on my ancient trainers. I ran out of my tiny flat, legged it past the out of order lift and sprinted down the three flights of stairs.
I skidded out onto the street on my old moped. At one point it had been white, but now the colour was indistiguishable because of layers of dirt.
I pulled up beside the theatre. to start with I thought I'd come on the wrong day. There were no wannabe models or out of work actors lining the street.
I checked my watch - 2:03pm - I was practically on time! I walked over to the billboard nailed ot te left of the imposing wooden doors. 'Four Weeks open auditions - 2:00pm' Well at least I was at the right place.
I pushed open one of the heavy oak doors and walked up to a bored looking receptionist encased in a square birch desk. She gave me a dirty look. i could tell by her manicured nails, blonde highlights and overly made-up face that she wouldnt take kindly to me.
"Uh, um, I'm here for the, uh auditions?" I mumbled, a bit intimidated by her unconcerned demeanor.
"Yes, they're down the corridor on the left, in the Old Hall." she smirked. She looked me up and down with a flick of her blue eyes. She looked at her nails self-importantly.
I read her name tag - Laura. I was getting pissed off by her attitude. As long as people are polite to me I stay awkward and dorky, but when people annoy me, I'm not exactly nice to them.
"Thanks, Laura. . ." I said, " I hope you have a nice day, not too stressful standing there doing nothing I hope." I continued in my most patronising tone. She glared at me through so much mascara I was surprised she could see.
I stalked off grinning to myself. I knew it was lame, but that was what I counted as standing up for myself.
******************
I walked along a wood panelled corridor until I came to a heavy door with a sign saying 'Old Hall'. Outside on a bench sat two people. one was about my age, maybe a bit younger. He had mouse brown hair and thick framed glasses. He wore a long canvas trench coat and a stripy scarf. in my opinion he looked like a bit of a freak, but he sitll sta with his head back and eyes half closed as if he owned the entire theatre.
I could hear the music coming from his headphones. I even recognised the song. . . 'I Aint Sayin my Goodbyes' by Tom Vek - one of my favourite artists.
I quitely mumbled 'Hey'.
"Yo." said freakboy smoothly. Yo? I thought, who even says that?!
"Hi." said the lady sitting next to him politely. She was in her thirties, with gorgeous dark hair and a lavender sweater that looked like it came from Dorothy Perkins, or somewhere equally alien to me.
I took a seat next to her and fiddled noiselessly with my sleeve.
"They're gonna call us in one by one, shouldn't take long." the woman smiled at me.
"Ok, cool." I said, unsure of how to reply.
*******************
A few minutes later the door to the Old Hall creaked open, and a tall man of around sixty poked his grey head around the door.
"Ah, Jeremy, could you join me in the hall please? Jeremy Winterbourne?" the man smiled happily.
Freakboy turned his head, coolly slipped his headphones off and fixed his colourful scarf.
"Yup." He replied brushing down his faded coat.
"Come on in then." said the tall man, his pale eyes twinkling endearingly.
The door slammed shut behind them.
"I'm Jennifer." started the lady in lavender, "Jennifer Kimberly." she added. "Kimberleys my last name by the way." she continued, beaming.
"Uh, I'm Paige, Paige Bracelet." I stuttered slightly, failing to keep eye contact. She seemed very friendly.
"Bracelet," she kept talking, "thats an unusual name, d'you know where it comes from?" God she was chatty! i couldn't help thinking she was a bit strange. . . talking to me when I was a complete stanger. A dorky stranger at that.
"Um, I think its a place, in Wales or something. . ." I trailed off.
"Oh, cool." she continued beaming at me. "And there was me thinking you were named after jewelery!" she guffawed loudly. I backed away from her a bit. She was scarier than freakboy and the receptionist put together!
Her eyes sparkled wildly as I let out a small 'ha' to her joke. Or at least I thought it was a joke. My eyes flicked shiftily away from her, looking for some way to end our conversation.
"I really hope I get into this Four Weeks thing." she said earnestly. She was talking very loudly. I silently cursed her for continuing our 'chat'.
"Do you think I have a chance?" she asked me, staring intently into my murky brown eyes. No! I thought, not unless they actually want weirdos.
"Yeah, sure you do." I smiled forcedly.
Just hen, to my relief, the door swung open and freakboy strolled out unconcernedly.
"Jennifer." He said, motioning for her to enter the hall.
"See ya 'round." he said to me seriously, before turning and putting on his headphones in one smooth movement and striding towards the exit.
*************************

~~Ok, so thats it so far embarrasment

There is some more, and I'll post if you want. Please point out any mistakes or suggestions you have. Thanks~~